Chapter Fifteen: Once...

In this world
Love has no color-
yet how deeply
my body
is stained by yours.
-Izumi Shikibu

Janice dragged her body up the cracked wooden floor boards forming three elevated steps. Her feet finally rested on a long faded welcome mat collecting dust on the discolored porch. She had gotten a few hours of sleep on the plane, but her mind kept flashing to a certain dark-haired Southern beauty lying underneath her body. And how they had almost...how she had almost ruined everything. Warm light made its way through the small front window. Janice looked up at the fading sun. Funny, the sky looked the same in South Carolina, but here she was half a world away. Settling her duffle bag and backpack on the floor, she knocked on the screen door of the old wooden house. She looked over toward the side of the structure when she caught sight of her old, beat up pick-up truck. It was one of the few material things Harry Covington had left her when he passed away. She knocked again as she looked through the window.

Suddenly a loud, heavy accented voice called from just beyond the door, "I heard you the first time. You don't need to knock again." An older gentleman answered the door. His sandy gray hair complemented his bronzed complexion. He smiled when he saw who was the source of all the knocking. "Janice...what are you doing here," he said as he opened his arms for an embrace.

"I was in the neighborhood...so I decided to drop by." She released him for the bear hug. "Check on that truck of mine."

The older man touched her face slightly as he examined her cut lip, the cut on her forehead and multi-colored right eye. "My god woman, what have you done to yourself? Can't keep my eyes off of you for a second." He grimaced as he continued to examine her wounds. "What was it this time?"

"A certain drunk southern gentleman was beating on his wife, so I decided to step in."

"Looks like you stepped into his fist," he said as he let go of her face.

"Well, let's just say that I wasn't all that sober when the fight took place. But from what I remember, he was in worse shape than me after I got through with him...and a couple of his friends."

"Come in," he said as he moved inside the small house and motioned for Janice to put her bags down near the door. "What's it been? Four months...six...you lose count."

"Try three." Janice sat down at the small table just beyond the door.

"Well, it seems like an eternity." The old man poured out two glasses of scotch. "But, after all, I watched you grow up so only a little time away from you seems like a long time." He set a glass down infront of her and promptly took a sit opposite his younger and bruised companion.

"I would think you would enjoy a little time away from me every now and then."

"To you, Janice. Good health." He poured all the liquor into his mouth in one shot and placed the empty glass upside down on the table.

"It's good to see you again, Stavros," Janice said softly looking at her empty glass. Stavros had been her father's closest friend. He was like a second father to her. She remembered how she was fascinated by his thick Greek accent when she was young. Why did he talk different was the question that she would always ask her father. As she grew older, and the relationship between her and her father strained, Stavros was their sole link to each other. After her father died, he was the one who helped her pick up the piece of her life. And he was the one who offered guidance during those difficult times.

Stavros stared at the young woman. He couldn't believe how time passed by so quickly. It seemed like only yesterday that he was bouncing a little girl with long red hair on his knee. And now here she was a grown woman drinking scotch with him. He knew her mind was somewhere else, and he had a suspicion that he had something to do with her missing traveling companion. Although, he had only met the tall Southern woman only once, he could see her effect on Janice. She was tempered somehow. Although, she still had the power and the drive, there was a certain amount of gentleness that she managed to bring out in Janice. He opened the bottle of scotch on the table and poured himself another glass. Janice placed her glass infront of the bottle's mouth. He decided to broach the subject before both of them were stone cold drunk. "Where's that woman you were traveling with...her name slips my mind. Ahh? Melissa..."

"Melinda. Her name was Melinda," she said as she downed the second glassful of scotch hoping the alcohol would soon effect her memory. "Melinda is now back where she belongs...in her big South Carolina mansion, with her servants, and nice furniture and perfect husband."

"Husband...I don't remember her mentioning that she was..."

"She isn't. But she's about to be...to a very wonderful man named Charles Lombard. Charming guy," she said under her breath.

"So why have you come back so soon? I thought you were going to take some time off."

"Well, plans change. I got some funding from the University of South Carolina. I was wasting my time in America. The scrolls are here."

"But you seem to be somewhere else." Janice stopped her marathon session of staring into her empty scotch glass. "Janice, let me tell you a story."

"A story? I'm not ten anymore Stavros."

"No, hear me out." He settled back in his chair and looked outside the small window to his right. Night had taken over the small village that he called home. "Long before I met your father, I was a different man. My mind was far away from thoughts of dig-sites and archaeology. You see, I was married to the most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth. She was gentle, caring, loving and her face would have made Aphrodite mad with jealousy. Her eyes were the deepest brown that I've ever seen and her hair was the color of a summer sunset. I was eighteen. She was seventeen. We had our whole lives ahead of us." Stavros stopped and unscrewed the bottle of scotch. "When I was with her, I felt as if I was complete. I wondered how I ever walked the earth without her. She was like oxygen to me." He poured himself another glass.

Janice watched as he did so. "What happened to her...your wife?"

"One night as we slept, she was overcome by some sort of seizure. She was taken to the nearest hospital, but by then it was too late. She was gone." He swallowed the glass. "Everyone grieved. Our small village was shaken by her death. There was not one person in that village who wasn't touched by her. I tried to move on, but it was so hard. I would see her face every place I went. I could still feel her on my skin at night. I was haunted by her memory. She was my other half...my better half. But it wasn't until years after her death that I realized something. We are still together. We will always be together because, you see, our souls are joined...beyond space, beyond time, beyond death. Nothing can tear us apart. No force on this earth can separate us. Once in a lifetime, you find the other half of your soul. I'm lucky that I found mine. I can only hope we find each other again in another time, another place."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Janice, I recognize that look in your face. I saw it many times in the mirror after my wife's death." Stavros placed a palm over Janice's hand. "But she's not dead, Janice. You can be with her. You can be happy...as happy as I was."

"Stavros, you don't understand. As much as I'd like to believe your fairy tale, Mel has made her decision. I can't help but respect it."

"Is that why you are running away?"

"I'm not running away from anything." Janice rose from her place at the table and began to pace the small room. "Maybe I am...I don't know. But what the hell am I supposed to do? Kidnap her and keep her chained to a pole so she won't marry the man she loves."

"Does she really love him?"

"Yes." Janice's mind flashed to the sensation of Mel's lips touching her fingertips. "I don't know. I don't know what is in her heart."

"Janice, you are connected to her in ways you might just be beginning to understand, but I know this, you can't fight fate. And when fate calls for two souls to be united, they will be. No one will dare stand in the way of destiny."

"And what if Charles is her destiny?"

Stavros poured Janice another drink. "He's not because you are. I saw it when you were together, and I see it now that you are apart. Trust your love for her. Believe in it and you can never go wrong."

"When did you become the hopeless romantic?"

Stavros paused and stared out at the night sky. "The day I met my wife," he said simply.
===========================
The wind blew gently across the beautiful and seemingly untamed landscape. The sky was pitch-black and Janice could only see as far as the lantern light reached, but she had to admit she liked being outside on this porch; it reminded her of her childhood. Stavros and her father would spend countless hours of the day playing poker on this very porch, when they weren't off at a dig somewhere. In the distance, Janice noticed, were the lights to some modern buildings. The temperature seemed to drop substantially since her arrival. Every so often Janice's thoughts drifted back to her earlier conversation with Stavros. Was Mel really her destiny? Suddenly, it was as if a light went off in her head. We found each other again didn't we? Why didn't she think of it before? Xena and Gabrielle, they are our descendants and they were deeply in love with each other. And thousands of years later, Mel walks into my life from out of nowhere and.... The thought that Melinda Pappas was her destiny after all, brought a small to her lips, but amid this musing about love, destiny and soulmates, her thoughts turned to Charles Lombard. If Mel loves me as much as I love her then why is she with him? Why didn't she tell him? Why did she agree to marry him? Janice shoved her hands into her leather bomber jacket and sighed deeply.

Stavros calmly watched as his younger companion stared off into the night, her mind pondering what he had told her before. "You're going to think yourself to death, Janice."

She laughed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Well, there's nothing much for me to do besides think." She lifted another glass of scotch to her lips and quickly downed it. "At least tomorrow my mind will be occupied with organizing this dig."

Stavros quickly capped the half-empty scotch bottle. "I guess there will be no more drinks for you tonight. We want you functional tomorrow."

"Yes, yes we do." Janice looked over at Stavros who stared back intently. She knew that he wanted her to talk about exactly what she was feeling. "So are you waiting to hear the sob story?"

"Only if you want to tell it?"

"That's one of the reason why I love you Stavros, you never push." She smiled at him, but then she sighed. Might as well tell someone, she thought to herself. "Apart of me wants to hate her because she chose, out of her own free will, to be with someone else, but I just can't do that. I realized months ago that something was going on between us, but my rational side just chalked it up to my overactive imagination, but when I went home with her, I slowly realized that what I was feeling wasn't in my mind, it was in my heart. I tried to fight it, suppress it, but the more time passed, the harder it was to think of anything, but my feelings for her." Janice shifted in her wooden chair. "Then, a man from her past came back into her life, and well...I think you can fill in the blanks."

"So you run away..."

"Yes. I can't help but respect the decision she has made." Janice intertwined her hands together and hunched forward in her chair.

"Even if it's the wrong one." Stavros turned his entire body to face the woman he thought of as the daughter he never had.

"Whose to say it is?"

"You! You are the other half of her soul, and you are the only one who knows how to make her happy. You belong together."

"Maybe, but for now...for now, I have a dig to prepare for. I've got to make my father proud."

"Don't!" Stavros raised his hand and cut Janice before she could go any further.

"Don't what?" Janice's eyes looked at him questioningly.

"Don't hide behind your father's dream. What good is it to fulfill a dream when you have no one to share the victory with? You're father was lucky, at least he had you, but who do you have, Janice?" Janice was about to answer his pointed question, but he cut her off before she even had a chance to open her mouth. "And don't say me. I know my days on this planet are numbered. You've been living to fulfill your father's dream your whole life. I know he's proud of you, but I don't think he wants to be the reason for you giving up on other parts of your life. You need to live your own life, Janice."

"But the question is how do you live your life without the other half of your soul? And we are back to square one!" Janice rubbed her eyes and yawned. The plane ride along with everything that happened to her in the past forty-eight hours was starting to catch up with her. Her body felt like a piece of steel. Her joints were stiff, but worse yet, the tenderness in her midsection returned along with an ache in her right arm. She rose from her chair and stretched as much as she could without straining her already bruised body further. She gave Stavros a thoughtful, long hug. "Thank you listening to my problems."

He laughed deeply and kissed her forehead. "You know, a year ago, you would have never said anything about this. You would have held it all inside of that little body of yours."

"Mel's taught me a lot. I guess loving someone agrees with me." She smiled. "I'll take my usual bedroom, that is if there aren't any objections."

"You know as well as I do that that room is yours. So stop talking and go to bed, child. You've got to organization those troops of yours tomorrow."

"Me? What Stavros, you think you are getting out of orientation duty? I don't think so."

Stavros gave a wide grin and promptly put on an innocent face. "I'm your servant, doctor. Bright and early tomorrow then."
===========================
Janice looked around the small corner room, her bedroom as a child when her father was preparing for a dig, and it was just as she left it. Of course, that was only six months ago. The wooden walls were bare except for one picture of Janice as a child standing proudly with an oversized hat and giving a lop-sided grin among the rest of her father's crew. Sure, it was a weird way to grow up, but Janice wouldn't have had it any other way. When she wasn't with her father digging from artifacts, she would stay with her aunt in the States and become a somewhat normal little girl, going to school and playing with toys. However, once school was out, she was back in this room, and she loved every moment of it.

Lying on her bed, Janice ruffled through her backpack and managed to find a folder with some sheets of paper in it. Before her hasty departure from South Carolina, Dean Richardson gave her a crew manifesto. She would be co-head of the dig with a Professor Martin Levy whose specialty was the geology/topography of ancient Greece. The rest of her university team was comprised of two anthropologists with five years digging experience a piece and knowledge of the area, Professor Rebecca Anderson and Professor Jonathan Michaels, and a third year archaeology graduate student named Madaline Rosa whose specialty was ancient languages. The proposed dig-site was about twenty miles away, but spoil samples and good instincts would be able to pinpoint the exact location of the village. Janice settled back and tried to relax. She would be immersed in work soon enough. With her hat still on top of her head, she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Fifteen: Love and Marriage

"A woman like you needs a house and home.
And if he really loves you more than me,
maybe it's the best thing for you,
but it's the worst that can happen to me."
-Johnny Maestro

Mel touched the short, nicely kept glass blades. She placed the dozen pink roses in the vase on the ground. She kneeled and leaned forward to kiss the two marble headstones. "Hi Mama, Papa. I know I haven't been here in a while, but I think you know where I've been...off discovering our ancient family tree, but I've decided that it's time to settle down with a very nice and gentle man, Charles. You remember Charles, you told me a long time ago that I would marry him someday. I guess you knew what your daughter wanted before she did. This way, Mama, I can settle down and have a family just like you always wanted for me. Apart of me does want to go to Greece and find Janice, but.... You would have hated Janice, Mama. She's everything you taught me not to be, but she's...she's a really good person. I miss her so much. I only wish she were here with me. I felt safe with her, respected and intelligent. She did rub off on me. She made me a better person, but now it's time for me to go down my own path. And I hope I make the two of you very proud. I love you, and I miss you, both." But her thoughts drifted to a certain blonde archeologist. She did love and miss her didn't she? Yes, yes she did. She tried to suppress this new revelation as she slowly rose.
===========================
The South Carolina suddenly turned dark with dense, rain-filled clouds. Melinda stood, arms crossed, watching the storm unravel before the large windows in her childhood bedroom. It had been nearly two weeks since Janice Covington suddenly and abruptly exited her life, but she could swear the room still smelled like leather and cigar smoke. She didn't know why she was spending a lot of time in this room, but she only knew it comforted her to do so. Her mind always drifted back to the memory of Janice's soft lips passionately kissing hers. Even the memory aroused feelings in Mel that she was only beginning to understand.

Melinda closed her eyes and basked in the memory of Janice's lips on her neck, her hands on her back and her body tightly pressed against her. Suddenly, she left a hand on her shoulder, but she wasn't startled. So lost in the sensations of her daydream, she thought it was just a manifestation of it. Reflectively, she grabbed the hand, kissed it and let it settle on her face.

She was snapped back into reality when Charles' deep voice whispered into her ear, "I love you, Melinda."

Mel immediately froze and was slightly embarrassed at what she had just done. She turned around to face her fiancée. "Hello."

Charles took in the sight of Melinda wearing a stunning red colored evening dress. Her hair was up which showed off her long, sensuous neck. "May I say you look stunning?"

Mel looked down at herself and suddenly felt a little self-conscious. She looked at Charles who was clad in a black tuxedo; his hair combed back and his shoes neatly polished. "You, too." Mel watched as her soon-to-be husband examined her questioningly.

"What was going on in that pretty, little head of yours? Wait, don't tell me. A wife should have some secrets from her husband." Charles took his other hand and rested it on Mel's other cheek. Slowly, he inched his way toward her mouth and touched her lips, but was disappointed when Mel's lips didn't respond. He backed away and looked into her eyes. She seemed troubled. "Is everything all right?"

"Fine. I'm fine. I'm just a little..."

"Nervous. Hey, I'm nervous too. It's not everyday that you announce to your family that you're going to marry the woman of your dreams." He smiled slightly and then looked around the room. "I haven't been in this room since I was thirteen. Hasn't changed much has it." He walked over the nightstand and picked up a silver picture frame. "Your mother always said we would marry each other. I wonder what she would say if I told her I had the same dream." He grinned sheepishly. "Well, then, shall we? We can't keep the guests waiting." He held out his arm and looked out the window. "Good thing mother didn't plan a party outside."
===========================
The ground was slick with water from the torrential downpour that mother nature let loose, but Mel scarcely noticed instead concentrating on the growing knot in her stomach. She hated large parties, but worse still was the kind of social function with the elite women and men of Charleston society circles. Even though her mother had thrown many parties at her estate before her death, Mel always felt uncomfortable at these types of events. Melinda knew that most of Charleston deemed her a social recluse, much like her father, and inevitably, there would be questions about her activities on digs in Greece, and the occasional probe into her love-life prior to Charles all of which will end up as juicy gossip at the next bridge game.

With Charles on her arm, Mel smiled and nodded at the few faces she recognized from her youth, the faces more lined and wrinkled. She heard the occasional whispered, "that's the daughter of Melvin and Evelyn Pappas," followed by, "I heard she's been out of the country for a long time."

Charles led his bride-to-be through the crowds. He garnered the occasional wink from some of the older gentlemen as well as nods of approval from some of the women. Finally, he spotted his parents in the center of a discussion group. Their laughter rose as he approached. "Mama, father, you remember Melinda."

His parents beamed with joy. Mrs. Lombard grabbed Melinda's face and kissed her soundly on the cheek while Mr. Lombard kissed her knuckles. "My word, child you have grown up since last we saw you. What has it been, ten years? Your mother always said that the two of you children would marry someday. Now, I can see what she had known all along."

"Thank you, Mrs. Lombard. I'm very happy with your son. He is a fine man." Mel cringed inwardly and hoped the falsity of her words didn't come through her voice. Mel was beginning to realize that she was not where she belonged. You were wrong, Janice.

Idle conversation followed as Melinda remained silent observer to Charles' tales about New York City. Once his tales were done, someone asked what Mel had been up to. "I heard through the grapevine that you were somewhere in the middle of the jungle looking for some lost, ancient treasure."

"Well, not exactly. I was helping a Doctor Janice Covington look for some lost scrolls that would change the way we look at our recorded history."

"Scrolls? You mean like myths, stories," one gentleman interjected.

"No, history about an ancient Greek warrior woman named Xena. She deserves her rightful place among other heroes like Hercules and Ulysses."

"But those are just myths, my child." Mrs. Lombard said. "They never existed. Next thing you'll be telling me is that Zeus himself was real."

Mel smiled knowingly. "Well, I can attest to the existence of Ares, god of war. I actually fought against him. He wanted to be released on to the world to bring about more death and destruction." Some of the gentlemen in her discussion started to chuckle. "I know all of this may seem far fetched, but..."

Charles looked upon his fiancée with concern. "Dear, you fought against Ares. You can barely fight a cold!" He smiled slightly at his own joke and condescendingly addressed the conversation circle, "Melinda has been so immersed in the stories she's been translating that she actually thinks they are real. I knew a lot of people like this in college." Assorted chuckles roses from the group.

Melinda fought the urge to kick him where the sun does not shine, but instead she simply inhaled deeply. She could not however stop herself from saying, "oh shut up!" The conversation circle suddenly became silent. Calmly, Mel continued, "I assure you that these events occurred...to me. Of course, Xena's spirit was inhabiting my body at the time, but that's another long, boring and complicated story." Mel knew what she was saying and why she was saying it. She wanted Charles to gaze upon at her with a disapproving look. She wanted to embarrass him.

Next thing she knew she was being dragged at the hand to a secluded part of the large
room, but Charles still spoke in a hushed tone. "What do you think you are doing Melinda? Why are you talking about all this nonsense, ancient warriors, gods of war, spirits...I'm beginning to wonder if someone else is inhabiting your body right now! Where's my Melinda?"

"Charles, this is who I am now. I've seen amazing, unbelievable things. I've done things you used to dream about doing."

"It's that Janice Covington isn't it?" Mel stilled and wondered if he could possibly know. "She's implanted these things in your head. I should have kicked her out the moment I realized...."

Mel regarded him questioningly. "Realized what?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"No, I want to know. She's my friend after all."

"That she wasn't normal. She had these urges toward you. And..." Mel swallowed. "And she seemed to have this love for you. She was very jealous of me. She wanted to have you all to herself." Mel's legs almost turned to jelly. She steadied herself by discreetly leaning up against the wall. "I was trying hard to keep it from you."

"Yes, yes," was the only thing Mel could utter. Could it be true? Were the same feelings that were coursing through her body be coursing through Janice's as well. Maybe Charles misinterpreted, but Mel's thoughts suddenly turned to kissing Janice. She loves me too. She almost wanted to shout. She wanted to run out of the party at that very moment, but was brought back to reality by Charles' hand on her cheek. "Are you okay, dear?" Mel could only nod, but her mind was racing a mile a minute. She wanted to leave as soon as possible. She wanted to be in the warmth of Janice's arms. There was just one problem. Mel looked down at her hand; her large diamond engagement ring shimmered in the harsh lights of the Lombard living room.

Mel went through the motions, playing the role of the prim and proper fiancée, but her mind was turning and processing all the information, plotting and planning, and hoping that the instincts now running rapidly throughout every cell of her body were not wrong. She felt a new amount of freedom in being able to admit and acknowledge these feelings to herself; the question now was, would Charles be as happy to learn of her epiphany? It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that answer.

Dinner was a silent affair as Mel only nodded and smiled at tedious conversations going on around her. Charles was immersed in his own little world of congratulations and spectacle to notice Mel's sudden lack of communication. Mel suddenly felt like a prize on display on his mantle. She fooled herself into thinking that she truly loved Charles because that was what had been expected of her. The spirit of her mother constantly haunting her, urging her to settle down and have a family. But now she saw the path of her destiny and it lead toward Greece and the awaiting arms of a blonde archeologist who had the habit of smoking in bed and cursing like a sailor on a three-day pass. But this was the woman Mel loved. The soul she had seemed to have been drawn to all of her life.

Thankfully the evening ended with assorted insincere kisses on the cheek and unwelcome kisses on the hand. Charles escorted his future wife back to her home, marveling in her beauty and firmly believing that all this was meant to be happening. "Melinda, you were simply the most beautiful woman on the face of the Earth tonight." He leaned in and was a little disappointed when Mel moved her head so that his kiss landed on her cheek, but he decided not to press the issue. "I love you."

With knowledge of what she had to do, Mel held her breath and finally said with a prophetic air, "Good-bye Charles." She touched his face once before turning toward the front door. Charles stood for a moment motionless as he briefly wondered why she hadn't returned his sentiment of love and why she had said 'good-bye' instead of 'good night.' He chose not to see beyond his good fortune though and walked toward the awaiting car. They would be man and wife soon enough and he'd hear 'I love you' for the rest of his life.

She walked into her dark and silent home, and immediately slipped the engagement ring off her finger. Letting her hair loose from her its tight bun, Mel walked toward the study and sat at the desk. With a deep breath and a silent prayer, she dialed the operator. "Can I have James Richardson, Charleston? Melinda Pappas." She was relieved when there was an answer on the first ring. "Doctor Richardson?"

"Melinda, dear, do you realize what time it is?" His voice showed signs of sleep.

"I apologize deeply for calling upon you at such a late hour, but I must know the exact location of the dig-site."
===========================
Mel finished packing a light suitcase. Janice had always said, bring only what you need. She set the bag near the door and entered the dimly lit study. She looked around the room for anything that she was forgetting to pack. A piece of paper caught her eye near the wooden chair in the corner. Picking it up, she immediately recognized it. It was a photograph Janice and her had taken a few months after meeting one another. Janice, complete with hat and bomber jacket and lightly fingering her gun, was standing next to a dirty and dusty Mel who was holding a scroll they had just unearthed. Mel smiled upon catching sight of the two of them together. They did make quite a pair. Walking over to the leather couch, she wondered if their relationship was always meant to be. Janice had always talked about her disbelief in destiny, but too many things have happened in Mel's life to doubt its existence. What if Mel had just packed her Daddy's things in the attic? She would have never gone off in search of Janice Covington and her life would be dramatically different. She would have probably been happily planning her wedding at this very moment, but destiny directed the path of her life in a decidedly different direction. She would have never known what real friendship was like, what love was like. She shuddered inwardly at the prospect of what could have been. With the small, faded photograph settled on her chest, Mel stretched out on the couch. She was now heading toward her destiny, and no force on earth would stop her until she held destiny in her arms again. They would be together forever. A deep sleep enveloped almost immediately, but not before she heard a voice much like her own echo...."And you will be apart of me forever...." Forever... Forever....

Her body felt rigid and stiff, like she had hit a wall head on, but by the force of sheer human will her legs moved forward. Fear welled up within her as she acknowledged that her will could only go so far, but she knew what she had to do and she knew whom she had to kill. Her muscles were beginning to ache as she fought the invisible force that seemed to envelop her, trap her. The neatly crafted dagger hung in midair, the dried hinsblood still visible on its blade. She watched as her own arm seemed to betray her, the blade turning toward her face. Straining, she held steady and pushed the sharp metal back toward its target. The face continued to look straight at her, eyes filled with an unstoppable rage and an inconceivable evil, but as she stared, she could not believe that these blue-green eyes also belonged to the person she loved most in the all the world. She had to suppress the feelings of conflict raging within her. This was a monster, whatever shape it chose to present itself in, but her heart had a hard time distinguishing the evil from the image. She could not remember how many times she had stared at that face and seen nothing but pure love and compassion, but now the eyes held nothing but darkness. The voice boomed, "you can't stop the will of Dahak." Inching forward, she used her own body weight to drag herself forward, her sweat mixed with blood from the deep gash on her forehead, but she barely noticed. Moving the dagger back, adrenaline, fear, hate and will coursing throughout her body, she launched herself forward. Her senses were so focused on the woman she had to kill; she barely had time to register the woman running from the other side of the room. As she was about to bring the dagger down, Gabrielle ran infront of her; her body becoming a blur passed Xena's eyes. No, her mind screamed as she stood frozen in that instant, time seemed to slow down as she watched Gabrielle grab Hope and descend down into the fiery volcano lava down below. Her face becoming etched in Xena's memory, a silent good-bye before her face disappeared from view completely. Regaining control of her body, Xena ran toward the fiery pit to see the light from her life be consumed by the hot liquid flames. Finally, she was able to yell...

"GABRIELLE!" Mel shouted as she jerked forward on the couch.