"Grab the wheel now!"

A small hand shot out and clamped on the steering wheel as Sara’s head once again popped up so she could peer over the dashboard. "Oh God, Xena. We’re gonna crash," she moaned.

"Hush, now. Just do the best you can." Twisting in her own seat, Xena kept her head below the level of the headrest, forcing the blunted barrel of her shotgun between the headrests of the bench seat. Peering above the protective barrier, the warrior took a second to aim, then caressed the trigger.

The resulting boom caused Sara’s hand to jerk on the wheel, which in turn caused Xena to fly over into the passenger’s seat, her strong body cracking Sara’s head against the dashboard. The wheel jerked again, and the warrior was thrown back in the opposite direction. She peered over the seat again, gauging the effect of her shot.

The trailing car’s windshield was shattered, but the driver appeared to be unharmed. The distance was closing by the second. Chambering another round, Xena sighted and let loose, grunting in satisfaction as the driver’s head exploded like an overripe melon, splattering the car’s interior with great gouts of blood. The car jerked sharply to the left and down a steep embankment. The resulting explosion lit up the night sky briefly.

Throwing the gun into the passenger’s seat, Xena twisted around again and liberated the steering wheel from Sara’s panicked grip. "You ok?" she asked her now silent partner.

"I-I think so. I feel kinda dizzy though."

"Look at me. Damn." The young woman’s forehead was split from her impact with the dashboard. Xena grabbed the sleeve of her own shirt and ripped, wadding the cloth up and pressing it against the freely flowing wound. "Keep the pressure on. Scalp wounds bleed a lot, but you’re gonna be ok. Just stay down, alright?"

"No worries there. I don’t think I could sit up if I wanted to." There was a long moment of silence, then Sara’s tremulous voice spoke up again. "Xena, what’s going to happen to us?"

Xena spared a glance at her young companion. Sara’s face was pale in the fractured moonlight. Blood made garish, tear-like tracks down her rounded cheeks. Her injured jaw was well shadowed with bruises. "We’re gonna get out of this, Sara," Xena said forcefully. "I refuse to let myself be pawed by some ape in a monkey suit only to be taken out by a bunch of idiots who have to be told how to tie their own shoes, got me?"

Sara’s relieved giggle was music to the warrior’s ears. She nodded to herself. "Alright then. Just keep pressure on that wound and let me worry about our guests."

With a last jig to the left, the road smoothed out, becoming a straight plain with a slight decline. Xena gunned the engine, eyes darting left and right in an effort to spy some sort of park maintenance turnoff where she could hide the car briefly. If she could just get rid of the tracer, they should be home free.

Her search was cut short by the sight of high beams splaying across the fractured windshield, causing her to throw up a long arm to shield her eyes. A large car was heading toward her at a high rate of speed, fishtailing severely as the driver tried to keep the vehicle on the narrow road. As she watched, Xena saw the head and shoulders of a man as he popped up through the car’s sunroof. Fire erupted from the muzzle of the gun he was carrying and the warrior ducked again as the cruiser’s windshield shattered, filling the air, and her face, with diamonds of glass. She blocked Sara’s terror-filled scream from her mind as she concentrated on keeping the cruiser on the road.

A spray of bullets flew past her right shoulder as the warrior leaned over to retrieve her gun. Sara screamed again and Xena spared the young woman another glance. Sara’s face was deathly pale, her jade eyes wide and rolling in her panic. The warrior clamped one strong hand on her shoulder briefly and squeezed, grinning ferally at her. "Sit tight."

Using her long, strong legs to clamp onto the steering wheel, Xena slammed another two rounds into the chamber of her weapon, locking the barrel and poking it out of the driver’s side window. Mafia bullets were puncturing through the cruiser at an alarming rate, attesting to the marksmanship skill of their current assassin. Xena held her fire until the car was almost upon them. She could see the evil smiles of the men inside the car and she flashed them one of her own. As the car came alongside, she pumped the trigger, watching in satisfaction as the assassin’s head was torn from his shoulders in a fountain of blood and gore.

The dark car flew past, turning in a slow, banking skid, then looped around twice more, unbalanced by the dead weight of the man still lolling out of the sunroof.

"Gotcha," Xena grunted, tossing down the gun and grabbing the wheel once again.

Banking left along a broad curve, the warrior noted with dismay that the road narrowed quite severely in this section of the park. Ancient huts, used to house Washington’s tattered forces, stood sentinel over the undulating fields. Xena’s appreciation for the crude constructions which had managed to survive the centuries was cut short by the sight of another car bearing down upon her. Her eyes narrowed as adrenaline pumped through her system anew. Her teeth gleamed in the darkness through sneering lips. Her night-black hair flew back from her striking face in wild abandon, blown by the gale caused by speed and the lack of a windshield. Ya wanna play chicken, huh? C’mon, boys. Let’s do it.

Centering the cruiser carefully on the narrow lane, Xena pushed the pedal to the floorboards, grinning wildly, her blood singing with malevolent joy. The two cars headed toward one another, gathering speed as they approached. The warrior’s gaze never wavered, her grin never faltered. She was in her element and no two-bit son of a Caesar was going to ruin her fun.

Closer and closer the cars came, neither driver willing to give way. The road was too narrow to swing around. Either way lead to death.

Xena never faltered. Her very birth had prepared her for moments like these. She was an elemental force in its purest form, unsullied by the encroachment of man’s knowledge and penchant for destruction.

Sara looked up from her crouched position, tears springing unbidden from her eyes at the vision before her. It was like the looking at the majestic beauty of a volcano as it spread it’s tendrils of lava along the ground or a tidal wave reclaiming what belonged to the sea, fearless and terrifyingly beautiful in its destruction. From her position, the young woman didn’t know what was happening, but, like in that quiet forest glade, she knew she was experiencing a moment so primal, so profound, that no words would ever do it justice.

At the very last second before impact, the large black car carrying the Mafia men swerved, occupants screaming their last as the vehicle flew off the road, hit a downed tree, and flipped, hood over trunk, in giant loops as it went down the side of the long, steep embankment.

Xena sped forward, never glancing back, all her concentration centered on the road ahead. A small shack surrounded by wire fencing came into view on her left and she slammed on the breaks, bringing the car into a controlled, looping skid. Hitting the accelerator slightly, she pulled the battered cruiser into the small paved driveway next to the maintenance shack.

"Why are we stopping? What are we doing?"

"Just keep out of sight," Xena ordered, slipping quickly out of the car and squatting near the front fender. Reaching under the wheel-well, she grasped the tracking device and pulled it away from the metal. Standing, she arched back her arm and threw the thin metal square like she would her chakram, watching as it flew high and far into the air. "Track that," she grunted in satisfaction, slipping back into the cruiser.

Seconds later, a car blew past them, the headless body of the Mafia assassin still lolling out of the sunroof. Grinning in malevolent delight, Xena jammed the cruiser into reverse and backed out onto the blacktop, turning the car to go back the way they had come. "Time to say our good-byes."

"But the party was just getting started," Sara mock-complained, her ears suddenly filled with the totally delightful musicality of Xena’s laughter.

The warrior had ‘disabled’ two cars and sent a third on a wild goose chase. Only one remained, and she had a pretty good idea just where it was hiding. Her suspicions were confirmed as the cruiser breasted a mild rise heading toward the park gate.

There, parked at an oblique angle to the gate, sat the fourth of the Mafia cars. A lone man stood against the front of the vehicle, a semi-automatic machine gun perched casually at his hip, pointed in the direction of the oncoming police cruiser. A sneer curled his lips. "You die now, bitch," he whispered as his finger caressed the trigger of his weapon, grinning as tongues of fire spit from the mouth of the gun.

Xena headed straight for the man, doing her best to ignore the hail of bullets as they threaded their way through and around the cruiser. Raising her own gun yet again, she took careful aim and fired. A sudden unseen dip in the pavement caused the shot to miss its mark, instead exploding one of the car’s front tires. The gunman yelped and dove back into the now listing car.

Twisting the wheel to the right at the last second, Xena aimed the nose of the patrol car into the small space between the Mafia vehicle and the standing cemented post of the gate. She winced at the loud squeal of metal over metal as the cruiser shot through the narrow gap, leaving half of it’s paint job behind.

"Is it over?" Sara asked from her place on the floor, her hand still firmly pressing the makeshift bandage over her head wound.

Risking a quick glance behind her, Xena nodded. "All clear."

"Thank God. Can I sit up now? Please?"

Grinning tightly, the warrior grabbed the young woman under her arm and hauled her back up into her seat.

Oriented now to her location, Sara was able to lead the pair home through back roads, correctly deciding that a bullet-ridden police cruiser would attract a great deal of unwanted attention on a more public thoroughfare. Within an hour, they were back at the sight of the abduction. Both exited the cruiser and Xena steered it off the road and down a small embankment, watching in satisfaction as the car rolled under its own downward momentum to come to a stop, fender deep in a sluggish stream.

"Takes care of that," Xena proclaimed, dusting her hands off and walking over to the surprisingly intact Mercedes. "Let’s get outta here."

They made it back to the city without incident, Xena keeping carefully to the imposed speed limits. Pulling into to the parking lot of a motel a step up from the squalid hovels they’d occupied before, Xena quirked a half-smile at her quiet companion. "I think we deserve a little luxury tonight, don’t you?"

Sara could only nod, trying mightily to hold back the dam of tears that threatened to spill over as the events of the past few hours flooded into her now unoccupied mind. Vivid images passed behind her eyes, bringing with them shudders of tension.

"Hey," Xena said softly, reaching over to cup the young woman’s chin and guide her face over and up. "What’s wrong?"

"N-nothing. I’ll be ok. I’m just . . .really tired."

Disbelief shone in the sapphire brilliance of Xena’s eyes, but after a moment she nodded and released her grip on Sara’s chin. "Wait here," she said, opening the door and slipping her long frame out of the car. "I’ll get us a room." With a slam of the door, the warrior was gone.

Refusing to give in to the emotions railing against her defenses, Sara wrapped tight arms around herself, rocking slowly in the soft leather seat. "Oh God," she whimpered. "Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Don’t cry, Sara. Don’t you cry. Cause if you do, you won’t stop." The sound of her own voice comforted the young woman slightly and she continued to hug herself tightly and rock.

Moments later, Xena returned, slipping back into the car. "I’ve got us a room around back. We’ll unpack, you can wash up, and I’ll take a look at your head, ok?" Her voice and eyes were gentle on the distraught young woman.

Sara simply nodded.

Xena led the way into the hotel room. Despite her current emotional state, Sara looked around in enjoyment. The walls were tastefully papered, the obligatory "ship sailing into the sunset" painting featured prominently over the large bed which was swaddled in what the young woman always called "Golden Harvest for Hotel Beds" paisley bedspread. At a gentle nudge to her hand, Sara snapped out of her reverie to look up at her companion.

"Let me take care of unpacking. Why don’t you go in and get cleaned up. I’ll take a look at your wounds when you’re done, alright?"

"Alright," Sara breathed, dropping the bags and wandering dazedly into the bathroom, wincing as she snapped on the light. Taking a look at her battered face in the mirror, the young woman gasped. She ran disbelieving fingers over the bruising on her cheek and jaw as she stared at the gory tracks of dried blood descending from the scalp wound. The tears welled up then, the dam bursting under the replayed horror of the day. She collapsed against the sink, sobbing.

Hearing the muffled weeping, Xena dropped what she was doing and strode into the bathroom. "Hey," she cooed, walking over to Sara and enveloping her in a strong embrace. "Hey, it’s alright. Everything’s alright."

Sara allowed the comfort for a brief moment before forcefully pushing herself away. "You’re wrong, Xena. Everything is not alright. It’s not! We were . . .we were almost killed tonight! That police officer tried to rape you! How can you say everything’s alright?" Sobbing, she stumbled against the warrior, pushing her flushed face against the warmth of Xena’s upper chest.

Xena’s long arms wrapped around the grief-stricken woman yet again as one hand raised up to stroke soft blonde hair. "Shhhh. We’re safe now. I wasn’t raped. We weren’t killed. We’re here. We’re safe. Shhhh."

After several long moments, Sara’s death grip on Xena’s torn shirt lessened and her sobs trickled off to a few isolated tears. Still sniffling, she pulled away again, giving the warrior a watery smile. "You must really think I’m a crybaby, huh."

Xena returned the smile, gently stroking the young woman’s cheek with the back of her hand. "No, I don’t. You’ve had a very traumatic experience. You’re just reacting the way any normal person would."

"I don’t see you crying," Sara countered.

The caressing hand stopped as the mask came down over the warrior’s features again. "I don’t think I have any tears left," she said softly before turning and leaving the room.

A troubled Sara washed her battered body and changed into the nightshirt Xena had brought into the bathroom with her. Hesitantly stepping back into the main room, she looked at the tall warrior who was staring out of the window. "Xena? I’m sorry if I upset you. I . . .I didn’t mean to."

A long minute later, Xena turned from the window to face Sara, the mask still in place. "You didn’t upset me," she said softly, walking over to the young woman and urging her gently onto the bed. "Now let’s take a look at that face of yours, shall we?"

The tall warrior stepped into the bathroom, returning with a wet rag. Gathering some jars from her luggage, she came forward to kneel in front of Sara’s seated form. Working gently, she washed the dried and clotted blood from the young woman’s face, examining the cut closely. Nodding in satisfaction, she turned her attention to Sara’s bruised jaw and cheek, probing it gently with tender fingers. "Nothing appears to be broken," she remarked softly, uncapping one of the jars and spreading the minty-smelling salve carefully over the bruising. "We’ll leave your cut to air out overnight. It isn’t deep enough to need stitching."

"Wow, that stuff really does feel good," Sara remarked, smiling slightly against the diminishing pain in her jaw. "But it’s making my eyes water."

Xena gave the young blonde a gentle half smile as she rose fluidly to her feet, recapping the salve jar. "Then I guess it’s lucky you’re going to sleep. You’ll be fine once you close your eyes. C’mon." With a tender clasp of Sara’s arm, Xena urged the young woman to her feet as she turned down the bed linens. "Hop in."

Sara slipped into the fresh clean sheets and Xena pulled the covers over her form, bending down to place a kiss on one golden temple. "Goodnight, Sara," she murmured before straightening again and retreating into the bathroom with fresh clothing.

Pulling off her ruined shirt and bra, the warrior viewed her image in the mirror. The bruising and bite marks on her breasts were almost totally healed and she grunted in satisfaction. Her wrists still bore telltale circlets from the too-tight handcuffs, but she was sure that by morning, those too would be back to normal. Stripping off the rest of her clothing, she washed quickly and pulled on a long T-shirt and cotton shorts, then stepped back into the main room, intending to do a little computer work before she turned in.

"Xena?" came a sleepy voice to her left.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering." Sara’s voice hesitated for a second and Xena tensed. "Could . . .I mean would you be able to . . .um . . . ."

"What is it, Sara." Though inpatient, she kept her voice steady.

"I . . .well, after everything that’s happened today, I really don’t want to sleep alone. Do you think you could sleep here with me tonight?" A faint blush crawled over Sara’s face. "I’m sure by tomorrow I’ll be better but . . . ." Her voice trailed off.

Smiling slightly, Xena changed the direction of her travel and pulled the linens back again. "Scoot over."

Grinning in grateful relief, Sara did as instructed, feeling the warrior’s warm body slide easily next to her own.

"Better?"

Impulsively, Sara leaned over and kissed Xena’s cheek. "Much. Thanks." Burrowing down into the covers once again, the young woman fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Upon hearing Sara’s deep, even breathing, the warrior turned her head to study her young companion. Her hand came up to tenderly stroke golden hair, a gentle, loving smile on her face. "Oh, Gabrielle," she sighed, eyes misting slightly. Turning her face toward the ceiling again, Xena fell into a deep sleep, her hand still entangled in Sara’s thick hair.

Sara awoke the next morning feeling oddly refreshed, her mind at peace and mercifully free of the past day’s terrors. Until she uttered a bone cracking yawn and the pain in her jaw flamed anew.

Xena was there within seconds, hands gently probing Sara’s wounded face as long fingers spread soothing salve over the dark bruising. Her steely blue eyes took in the cut on the young woman’s forehead. "Healing nicely," she said in a low, purring tone.

The dark warrior’s voice threaded its way down Sara’s still drowsy nerve endings and she resisted mightily the urge to sink into the lips so close to her own. Instead, she let her eyes drift slowly closed, feeling Xena’s fingers as they tenderly caressed the skin of her face.

Suddenly realizing that her touches had become something more than clinical, Xena pulled back, closing her eyes briefly before raising gracefully to her feet. Setting the jar of salve down on the nightstand, she turned back to the desk, sinking into the chair and gazing into her computer screen.

Sara’s eyes snapped open as her body noted the quick absence of the warrior’s intoxicating warmth so near her own. The stern remoteness was stamped over the dark woman’s face once again and Sara sighed, pushing herself off the bed. "So, what’s up for today’s grand adventure?"

The blue eyes which met Sara’s were flat, almost lifeless. "I figure we’ll spend the day laying low. I’ll give Jarrod a call to come around this evening. You two can have dinner together while I take care of business. Sound good?" Without waiting for an answer, Xena turned back to her screen, simply staring at the flat surface.

Closing the distance between the two, Sara stepped behind Xena’s chair, laying her palm atop the warrior’s shoulder. "Xena?" A long moment of silence passed. Sara removed her hand. "Did I do something to upset you?" Her voice was soft, hesitant.

The warrior spun quickly, grasping Sara’s hand and holding it gently in her own larger one. "No. You did nothing wrong. I’m just . . . .I have a lot of things on my mind." Her steely gaze softened as the arched plains of her face smoothed into a small smile.

Which Sara returned in full measure, relieved beyond the telling. "Alright then. If you can do without me for a few minutes, I think I’ll take a shower." Grabbing some clean clothes, the young woman happily made her way into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind her.

Turning back to the computer, the smile left Xena’s face. Waking up holding Sara this morning had almost shattered her. Her waking body, still alive with the fire of yesterday’s battle, reacted immediately to Sara’s intimate presence, demanding satiation. The sense of temporal dislocation, her constant companion since she’s met the honey blonde twin of her soul’s mate descended full force and the warrior came very close to making a very big mistake. The bruised swelling on Sara’s innocent face snapped Xena back into her present reality and she disentangled herself from her companion’s firm grip as if burned, disgusted by her body’s betrayal.

But the blood fire refused to be dampened and it was making her edgy. The thought of spending the entire day indoors, in close personal contact with the woman who wore her beloved’s face was something she wasn’t altogether sure she could handle. She sensed Sara’s attraction, sensed the passion dance that was often an undercurrent to their brief, enforced companionship and was at a loss to understand what to do about it.

When Sara came back into the room, her golden hair freshly washed, her cheeks flushed from the warmth of the shower, Xena bolted to her feet, the desk chair crashing to its back behind her. "I have to get out of here. I won’t be gone long." With that, she escaped, leaving a totally puzzled young woman behind.

Grabbing her sword from the trunk of the Mercedes, Xena raced off into a small wooded area just behind the motel. This time, the gentle peace of the windblown trees did not fill her with the calm she was seeking. It only served to increase the distance between where she was now and where she most desperately wanted to be. "Damn you, Gabrielle," she shouted, slashing through the underbrush with powerful strokes of her brutally sharp sword. "Damn you to Tartarus! Why did you have to die? I could have saved you! Why did you do it? Why?" Tossing the weapon to the ground, the tall woman sank to her knees, her head thrown back to face the heavens. "Why??" The wail pierced the stillness of the quiet winter morning, sending a flock of late migrating birds into startled flight.

Retrieving her weapon, Xena twirled it in the air above her head before thrusting it, point first, into the winter-hardened ground. Wrapping both hands around the hilt, she bent forward to rest her forehead against the chilled pommel.

Gabrielle’s voice settled around her soul like a warm cloak, comforting the grieving warrior. She remembered that conversation as if it had taken place only yesterday.

"Yes, Gabrielle," Xena whispered from her place on a small forest floor. "I remember." She also remembered what had happened later that evening, when the full weight of just what she had unwittingly become was set down heavily on her shoulders. And the knowledge that Gabrielle would die one day and be taken from her life forever became more than she could bear. She had collapsed into the sturdy soothing arms of her lover, curled up fetally, dark head pressed against the bard’s strongly beating heart, wishing with everything in her that she could simply stay there forever, willing that strong muscle to never stop beating.

Xena felt the hand on her shoulder at the same time she heard the voice softly call out. "Xena?"

Within a split second, she was on her feet, lethal edge of the sword resting against the neck of a wide-eyed Sara. After a beat, Xena let out a pent up breath and lowered her sword, her eyes narrowing. "Don’t ever come up behind me like that. I could have killed you."

Sara swallowed hard through a dry throat. "I know that. Now." She took a step back, eyes never leaving the warrior. Xena’s skin was flushed with a rosy hue, her eyes simmering and violet. Waves of dark energy emanated off her body effortlessly, buffeting against Sara’s smaller form and causing a responding surge within the young woman. Licking her lips, quite against her conscious will, she took a step back toward the tall woman who’s magnetic pulsing drew her in and held her tightly.

When their bodies were separated by mere inches, Xena reached up and placed her hand against the soft leather of the duster Sara was wearing. "No. Not here. Not like this."

"I . . .I don’t understand." And she didn’t. The pull was too strong to be denied.

Xena’s eyes gentled as they regained their normal ice blue color. She stepped away, severing the connection between them. "I think you do," she countered, hefting her sword and laying the deadly edge against one shoulder. "You’re Sara."

Jade eyes blinked once, confused. "And?" Then the understanding came and with it, sadness. "Yes," she said softly. "I am."

The warrior smiled slightly, jerking her head in the direction of the recently abandoned hotel. "C’mon. Let’s get inside where it’s warmer." As she strode casually from the small wood, Xena felt some of the edgy tension mellow within her. The energy was still there, but it had been harnessed to a somewhat more manageable level. The smile bloomed again, taking on a slightly evil cast as she thought about the night ahead. Maybe some of Calladosi’s men will stick true to form. I could use a good fight right about now.

The rest of the day was spent companionably, Sara watching every snippet of news she could, waiting for word of the missing policemen or the park’s invasion. The second story never came. Apparently, Calladosi’s men were more adept at cleaning up after themselves than in eliminating a rather frustrating Mafia wife and her dark haired protector. The two missing policemen were the top news story of the day but so far, there were no leads. The Mayor was asking anyone who witnessed anything to please step forward. Sara looked over at Xena, watching as the warrior shook her head in the negative once. With a sigh, the young woman went back to watching the television. After a long moment, she turned her attention back to the engrossed warrior. "Xena?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think they have families?"

"Who, Sara?" Xena asked, not diverting her attention from her study of the blueprints of the interior of Calladosi’s mansion.

"Those two policemen."

"I s’ppose."

"Do you think they’ll miss them? Wonder where they are? It’s almost Christmas. Maybe they had children. Do you think?"

With a sigh and a slight roll of her eyes, Xena turned her attention to Sara. "They probably should have thought about that before kidnapping and assaulting us, Sara," she said patiently. "And I highly doubt that we were the first."

The red/gold head nodded. "I know. Still, if they do have kids, they shouldn’t have to pay for the sins of their fathers, should they?"

"They’re already paying." When the green eyes would not leave hers, Xena sighed again, propping her elbows against the chair back as she stretched out her long legs. "What would you have me do, Sara? I killed a police officer! I can’t very well protect you if I’m sitting in some prison cell."

"You didn’t mean to, though! It was self defense!"

"You forget who we’re talking about here. These are the same people who turned you in to Calladosi’s thugs when you called for help."

"I haven’t forgotten, Xena. But it’s Christmas. And their families . . . ."

"Oh alright," the warrior replied, pushing herself up off the chair and rising to her feet in a graceful, almost feline movement. "I’ll have Jarrod place an anonymous call into the Mayor’s office. Will that do?"

Sara grinned, the brightness of her smile seeming to light up the room. "Thanks, Xena. You’re the greatest."

"Yeah, well don’t go spreading that around, ok?"

Still grinning, the young woman made a crossing gesture over her heart and went back to watching the television, her countenance and mood much brighter than before.

As daylight passed into dusk, Xena excused herself from the room and stepped into the bathroom to shower and change. Quickly pulling on black pants, a black turtleneck and black boots, she returned to the main room, finishing off the tight braid that bound her hair, looking every inch the lethal predator she was. The startling blue of her eyes was the only point of color on the woman and they were made all the more vivid because of it.

"Wow," Sara commented from her place on the bed. "I wouldn’t want to meet up with you in a dark alley."

Xena favored her companion with a slight smile. "Be glad we’re fighting on the same side, then."

Sara’s sharp retort was interrupted, in utero, by a sharp knock to the door. Instinctively, she stood to answer when Xena’s strong hand curled itself around her bicep, sending her in the opposite direction.

"In the bathroom," the warrior ordered, whispering as she headed toward the door.

Nodding, Sara did as she was bade, a stab of fear twisting itself through her belly as she slipped behind the partially opened door, leaving it open just enough to peer through with one eye set against the wooden frame.

The knock sounded sharply again as the tall warrior bent slightly to look through the tiny peep hole. A moment later, she relaxed, unbolting the door and flinging it open wide, a beaming, welcoming smile wreathing her face. "Jarrod," she said in her husky voice. "Good to see you again, my friend."

The man stepped through the door and, to Sara’s great surprise, engulfed Xena in a massive bear hug, almost lifting her off her feet. "Bluu jicho. You’re a sight for sore eyes." Kissing her soundly, the huge man set the warrior down and turned, grinning, to where Sara stood. "You must be Sara," he said in a musical, lilting voice.

The young blonde’s voice left her as she stared. Jarrod was one of the largest and certainly most handsome men she had ever seen. His ebony skin was so black it shone almost blue under in the room’s subdued lighting. His body appeared well muscled and she guessed his height at over six and a half feet tall, dwarfing even the very tall warrior standing beside him. His teeth were a brilliant, blinding white that contrasted startlingly with his midnight skin and his smile lit up his face, crinkling the corners of his gentle brown eyes.

"She is," Xena spoke for her, resisting the urge to snap her fingers in front of the wide, staring eyes. Smirking slightly, the warrior closed the distance between them and gently guided Sara back into the room. "Sara, this is Jarrod. Jarrod, Sara."

"A pleasure to meet you, Sara," Jarrod said, holding out a huge hand in the frozen woman’s direction.

Jade eyes blinked once, twice, and the young woman seemed to come back into herself, flushing slightly. "I’m sorry. I’m pleased to meet you too." Smiling, she took the proffered hand and felt its tender, warm grip as it gently engulfed her own.

The two broke apart after a moment, turning as one to watch as Xena wrapped a thick belt around her narrow waist. Attached to the belt were several nylon pouches and she shifted it to settle the material comfortably around her body. Reaching into one of the satchels, the warrior withdrew several small metal discs, each wrapped in anti-static material. These she slipped into her belt pouches, zipping them back up and resettling the whole rig yet again.

Her hand disappearing again into the luggage, Xena pulled out a snub-nosed .38 which she tucked into the waistband at her back. Slipping into her duster, the warrior eyed her two companions. "Can I trust the two of you to behave while I’m gone?" she asked, a teasing glint in her steel blue eyes, one arched eyebrow disappearing beneath ebony bangs.

"I’ll be the perfect gentleman, bluu jicho," Jarrod commented, grinning.

"That’s what I’m afraid of."

Laughing, the large man tossed the warrior a set of keys. "The yellow Sting-Ray."

"Ahhh, my favorite." She dropped a subtle wink to her blonde companion. "Behave. I’ll be back soon."

"Be careful, Xena," Sara replied.

"Always." With a feral grin, she was gone.

Pulling the canary yellow Sting-Ray to the curb behind a line of other expensive automobiles, Xena stepped out and locked the door carefully behind her. She smiled at the turn of luck. There was obviously some type of holiday party going on in the neighborhood and her car would not be as out of place here as it would have been parked on an otherwise empty street. The line of cars extended to the bottom of the long hill, with Calladosi’s mansion being at the top.

Settling her heavy coat around her shoulders, the warrior proceeded up the hill at a brisk walk, looking for all the world like a young socialite working off a large pre-holiday feast. Keeping up her quick, long-limbed stride, Xena powered past Calladosi’s home, her eyes darting to the top of the massive rock fence, noting the positions of the cameras sitting atop the corner posts. Slipping along the wall to the far side of the estate, Xena ducked into the neighboring yard, coming to a halt at the gnarled base of a huge oak whose thick limbs thrust themselves conveniently over the Calladosi property.

Reaching into the pocket of her duster, the warrior pulled out a black ski-type mask and slipped it down over her head, effectively disguising her features. Then she slipped off her coat, folding it carefully and tucking it against the roots at the base of the tree. Then, with a powerful flexing of her legs, Xena leapt soundlessly onto one stout limb high above the rock wall, bracing herself against the thick trunk of the ancient oak. Her keen eyes peered through the darkness, noting the location of each guard as they patrolled the exterior of the mansion.

She stayed there for some time, nestled against the tree’s rough bark, watching the patrol patterns of the guards. Satisfied at what she saw, the warrior stepped off the branch, silently landing on the other side of the wall, keeping close to the chilled rocks so as to escape the detection of the ever-vigilant cameras. A low bristling growl came slightly to her left and Xena looked in that direction, spotting three canines loping toward her, white fangs bared. Drawing herself up to her full height, Xena employed one of her old mentor’s tricks, staring at the alpha unwaveringly. With a soft whine, he sat, then laid down, his mates following suit, all looking up at her adoringly. "Good boys," she whispered. "Remind me to get you a treat from the kitchen later." Three tails wagged happily at her statement.

Nodding once, she left the dogs, stealthily moving along the perimeter of the property, keeping to the dark shadows cast by the wall and the numerous trees growing on both sides of it. Her eyes darted back and forth between the guards and the mounted cameras, freezing in place when the attention of either was directed her way.

Long moments later, she found herself at the more sparsely guarded rear of the house. Looking up, she spied the large balcony from which she would make her entrance into the mansion. After checking to make sure she was unobserved, Xena took several running steps towards the house and then leapt, turning once in a tight tuck and landing neatly on the large escarpment, flattening herself quickly to the chilled flooring as she peered intently through the wood and glass doors.

The guest bedroom was empty and she breathed a bit easier, leaping quickly to her feet and approaching the doors noiselessly. As with all the other balcony doors, these were not set with alarms and she smirked at the arrogance of the Mafia lord. Reaching into her belt pouch, Xena removed a thin lock pick and set to work. Within a few seconds, a soft click was heard and the tall warrior opened the door and let herself in, closing and locking the door behind her.

Treading quickly and soundlessly through the thickly carpeted, garishly adorned room, she reached the door that led to the hallway, pressing her ear against it, listening for movement. When silence greeted her sensitive hearing, she eased the door open and peered down the corridor, eyes sweeping its length and breadth. Satisfied that she was, for the moment, alone, she squeezed through the barely opened door and started down the long hallway, keeping very close to the hideously papered walls. Her long strides ate up the distance and she quickly approached the intersection. Marble stairs leading down to the first level curved around in a U before reaching the floor. The railing was matching marble with a hideously worked lion perched on the balustrade. Someone should really give this guy some decorating tips.

Peering down the brightly lit stairwell, she could hear the crackling of a fire, some brash conversation and the muted click of pool balls as they were chased around the table. The air from the first floor was scented with a curious combination of wood and cigar smoke with a hint of pine.

The warrior breathed deep of it before darting her eyes down the hallway. Her luck was continuing to hold. After checking the stairwell once more, Xena darted across it, flattening herself against the wall again once she had crossed. Looking up, she took note of the highly polished ceiling beams and the canopy of stars that shown down through the vaulted skylights which decorated the ceiling every ten feet.

Suddenly she heard the murmuring of voices and the loud tread of booted feet coming in her direction. Uttering a curse under her breath, she jumped, catching hold of one of the beams and swinging her weight atop it, anchoring herself firmly in place with one arm.

"I dunno Charlie." one of the suit-encased men said as he turned into the far hallway, eyes looking around for any disturbance, "Ya know, Sheila's one hot babe but she belongs to the boss."

"Yeah, I know but a guy can dream, can't he?"

"Dream hisself right into a 6 foot hole."

"Okay, okay. I get your message. How 'bout that one bitch the boss is looking for. Joseph's old lady?" he asked as they made their way down the hall, checking each door to make sure it was locked.

"Who? Sara??" the goon grinned, revealing teeth that were chipped and yellow, "Yeah. Now her I wouldn't mind going a round or two with especially if she was fighting a bit, ya know?"

Both laughed as they turned the far corner on the circuit and long legs slowly unfolded from the ceiling in the hallway as Xena lowered herself from one of the beams. Even at her 6 foot length, the floor was still half again that distance away. Snarling in the direction of the two guards, she released her grip and dropped soundlessly into a crouch on the hardwood floor, looking very much like a jungle cat on the hunt.

Straightening up, the warrior quickly made her way down to one of the multitude of doors lining the hallway. Unlike the others, which were made of solid wood, this had a large glass insert with heavy wire crisscrossing through it. Peering inside from her position flat against the wall, she noted with no small satisfaction that the guard was fast asleep, his feet propped up on the small desk in front of him. Makes it all the more easy for me.

Quickly jimmying the room’s lock open, Xena slipped inside, striding to the stuporous guard, smirking. "Sleep tight," she snarled, insuring her statement with a quick right cross to the jaw. Her strong grip kept the man from falling out of his chair.

After making sure the guard would stay put and unconscious for a good while, the warrior set out to work. Scanning the room, her eyes lit upon the large bank of video monitors that dominated one entire wall of the room. Looking around, she assured herself that this particular room did not have a hidden camera poised anywhere recording her movements.

With a grunt of satisfaction, she turned away from the unconscious guard and headed toward the video monitors, eyes taking in the audio panel and small microphone that sat in the middle of the long ledge that ran along the wall. Pulling out a tiny screw-driver, Xena removed the audio panel and carefully examined the snarl of wires exposed to her view. Selecting two, she separated them with her fingers while her other hand reached into the belt pouch and came out with one of the listening devices. With easy, practiced movements, the warrior worked the intricate circuitry, connecting the bug to the two wires and stuffing the whole snarled mess back into its hole.

Screwing the panel back together, she looked up at the monitors yet again, gaze freezing on one image. Tapping a button on the audio keyboard, she increased the volume slightly, listening intently.

Lips curling in disdain, she watched Calladosi heave and pant atop the body of an amply endowed blonde. To the blonde's credit, she was doing a fair approximation of ecstasy but the sheen in her eyes was more of coke than copulation.

Xena leaned back on her heels, watching the monitor screen intently. As she thought, it didn't take Calladosi long to finish. He rolled off the blonde and sat on the edge of the bed, his pudgy, hideously pale legs barely touching the floor.

"Less talk, more action, angu eusi simba."

Xena’s hips jerked sharply upward at the first touch of his tongue on her. When his mouth engulfed her heated center, his tongue beginning a teasing dance over needy flesh, the warrior threw back her head, her eyelids tightly clenched, her hands white-knuckled as they grasped the edges of the chair, digging into the ersatz leather. A low hissing moan sprung forth from between gritted teeth. "Ingine, eusi simba," she moaned softly, hips rocking in tandem with his questing tongue. "Ingine. Mpindani, ingine.''

Embarrassment over perceived weakness coupled with innate rage over the loss of her beloved fueled Xena’s next actions. Pushing against the strong man, she grasped his broad shoulders, her lips twisted into a snarl. "Angu geuka, angu simba." Her eyes sparkling and feral, she used her great strength to push the African back away from her, bearing him down to lay flat upon the hard ground.

Continued...Part 5 of 6

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"Is . . .is that how she died?"

A half smile appeared. "No. I managed to get the antidote in time."

"I don’t understand. How could I say those things? I mean, I know it was just a dream and all, but I don’t know Greek and I sure as hell don’t know Gabrielle. Unless . . .maybe it’s a repressed memory thing? Are we related somehow? Like maybe distant cousins?"

If you only knew how distant. "I’m not sure. I’ve checked your genealogy on the computer, but the records are incomplete. It’s doubtful, though."

"Then why?"

"I wish I knew."

Sara stepped back, knowing not to push the issue any further. Though intrigued by the possibility of being genetically linked to Xena’s lost love, she wasn’t willing to push her companion so hard that the walls between them would go back up permanently. She was enjoying the new-found openness too much. Unable to resist one last comment, however, she grinned. "Did Gabrielle know how to cook?"

A smile of memory came to Xena’s face. "Oh yes. She was a wonderful cook. We were on the road more often than not, but she always managed to make due with what little we had."

"Well, we’ll just see if I can cook Greek food as well as I seem to be able to speak the language."

Continued...Part 5 of 6

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