"When in Greece..."

Part Six

The Conversation...


Xena cleared her throat, a little unsure of where to start. Talking was Gabrielle's forte, and, true to her nature, the bard jumped right in.

"Could you tell us about yourself?" Xena looked at her friend, but thought they might as well start somewhere.

Mariah laughed a little in an effort to dodge the question. "That could take some time. What do you want to know?"

Gabrielle thought for a moment. "How old are you?"

Mariah sat back. "I'm twenty-eight."

Well that didn't get us anywhere, Xena thought, but the plucky bard had another question ready. "Where were you born?"

"Lombard. It's a town outside the city of Chicago," replied Mariah.

Xena and Gabrielle exchanged glances. Lombard? Chicago? Where in Hades' name were *those* places, Xena thought to herself. I *knew* something wasn't right. Just how wrong would it get, she wondered.

Mariah was purposefully being a little vague; not out of spite, but because of the nagging, disquieting thought running through her mind, a thought that slowly seemed to be developing into a reality. And that reality was almost too terrifying for her to even consider. "Where were you two born?" she asked.

"I was born in Potadeia, and Xena's from Amphipolis," Gabrielle answered.

Potadeia? Amphipolis? Where in the hell are those places, thought Mariah. The names had a Mediterranean, almost Greek flavor. Greek...Greek???

Gabrielle's mouth opened, but Mariah had another question ready and quickly asked, "What's the name of the biggest town in this area?"

"Athens," replied Xena. "It's about a week's walk from here."

"Athens. Athens, Greece? And it's a week's walk away?" Realizations dawned upon her.

"Well, of course," said Gabrielle, looking at Xena a little doubtfully.

The young teacher leaned back, exhaling audibly as her suspicions were confirmed. The clothing the two women wore and their reactions to hers, Gabrielle's questions about my scars and the sunglasses, the waterbag...I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore, Toto, she thought ruefully, that famous line from *The Wizard of Oz* running through her head. She looked down at her hands. She was surprised they weren't shaking. They would be soon enough. Be careful for what you wish for, Mariah, her mother had always told her...you might just get it. But Greece...ancient Greece? Why here, of all places? Xena interrupted her thoughts with another question.

"Can you tell us more of what happened when you hit your head?" the warrior asked.

"I think I can, but first I need to ask another question," said Mariah. She took a deep breathe and took the plunge. It was do or die, she thought...crunch time...got to know one way or the other. But how to be sure? Suddenly, inspiration struck--*The Iliad*!! She had taught it often enough. And it was based on an actual event. That would have to be her point of reference. "The city of Troy," she asked, "is it still in existence? Is that war between the Trojans and Greeks still going on or did it finally end?"

"It ended some time ago," said Xena. Mariah's heart sank as her worst suspicion was just confirmed. The time had come for all to be told. Chin up, girl, she told herself. What's 2,000 years between friends?. Hysterical laughter began to bubble up, but she pushed it back under the surface. She got up, and paced back and forth in front of the fire, ignoring the throbbing in her head, the roiling in her stomach. She paced silently for several moments, her sneakers kicking up dust as she phrased her thoughts.

"What I'm going to tell you sounds impossible," she began. "I'm having a hard time believing it myself, but it must be true, it has to be..."

"Mariah," said Gabrielle, but Xena gently waved her silent.

"You were right, Gabrielle, when you said I wasn't from around here. I can't really explain how I got here. It must have been that crack on the head I got when I fell on the ice. I'm from a place thousands of miles away, a place across the seas, a place most travelers have never been to, a place that hasn't even been discovered yet by civilized man. And that's not the worst of it. I'm not only from another place; I'm from another time as well. As near as I can figure, I'm from a time more than 2,000 years in the future. I'm from the twentieth century." There!! Now it's been said, she thought.

There was silence. Gabrielle spoke up, lightly joking, trying to ease the tension which could be cut with a knife. "Mariah, I think you hit your head just a *little* harder than you thought." Xena said nothing. She had feared Mariah's tale would turn out to be something like this. The clues all pointed to it. She mulled over what she had just heard; the implications were staggering.

"Well, do you have a better explanation, Gabrielle, because I sure don't!!" The hysterics rose to the surface. Tears streaming down her face, her breaths coming in gasps, Mariah stormed out of the camp.

"Hey, wait..." said Gabrielle, getting to her feet, but Xena stopped her.

"Let her go, Gabrielle. She's had one shock on top of another. She won't go far. Let her be by herself for awhile. She needs to work through this. And you and I need to talk."

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Part Seven

Reality Bites...


My god, thought Mariah, as she marched down towards the stream. What am I going to do? I'm stuck here! I've got no friends, no family. And my job? Could I even *do* my job here, she thought. Most of what I teach hasn't even been *written* yet. Would they even allow a woman to teach, let alone some stranger? What am I going to do? How will I live? She sat down and held her throbbing head in her hands, the tears streaming down her face. How could this have happened? I crack my head open on some damn ice, and suddenly I'm 2,000 years back in the past, in ancient Greece? It sounds like something out of *Star Trek*! She thought back to when she was a young girl, immersing herself in books like *A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court*, watching television shows like *Dr. Who* and movies like *Somewhere in Time*. She used to dream about traveling to other eras. She always wished something like that could happen to her, but she knew things like that didn't happen in real life. Be careful for what you wish for...well, I got what I wished for all those years ago.

Mariah grappled with her churning emotions as the reality of her situation began to sink in She stood up, walked around, trying to control her shaking hands and her ragged breathing, her head throbbing with every beat of her heart. The Tylenol would wear off soon; she would need to take some more. Tylenol, she thought wildly. Now there's an image--Tylenol in ancient Greece!! Hey!! It's good for what ails you!! After a hard day battling those Trojans, take some Tylenol to sooth that aching head and those sore muscles. Trojans...stop! Don't *even* follow that line of thought. Whoa, you've got to get a grip, girl. Calm down. Deep breaths. Come on...you can do it. If you're stuck here, you better figure out what you're going to do to survive. It's battle-mode time, she thought. You need to learn how to fit in. Eat what they eat, wear what they wear...do whatever it takes, Mariah, she said to herself, you do *whatever* it takes. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Except you're not *in* Rome, are you? Suddenly, a thought struck her. Would her actions here interfere with future events? Oh, that's just GREAT, she thought, momentarily angry. If I do anything here, I could muck things up down the road! I can't think about that now. And then the truly frightening thought hit her, the one thought she wasn't yet ready to face: what if my cancer comes back again? Her face went white. I'd die, she thought bleakly...that'd be it for me.

She slowly sat down again, burying her head in her hands, sobs racking her body as she allowed the emotions running rampant through her body to get the best of her for now. Cry, she thought. Get it out of your system now, kid. You won't have time for the tears later. You'll be too busy surviving. She knew the time for clearer thinking would come after she exhausted her emotions....

Mariah, however, wasn't the only one puzzling things out. Xena and Gabrielle sat around the fire, discussing this recent turn of events.

"Xena, do you believe her? That's one heck of a story!!"

"She has to be telling the truth, Gabrielle. How else can you explain all the strange things she has? The clothing? Those scars? We know she's not from around here...maybe the gods are involved. You know how Zeus loves to stir things up...or maybe it *was* an accident. I don't really know," Xena said with a sigh as she leaned back. "But think back to all of the strange things that have happened to us. Remember when the Fates altered reality so I could see what my life would have been like if I hadn't followed the sword? Or when I was cursed with madness by the Furies? Or when you, Joxer, and I were caught in that repeating day because of a lover's plea to Cupid? Try to see it from her point of view. It's frustrating when you're the one that's being affected, and no one else seems to be. My bet is she's scared witless."

"So what are we going to do? We can't just leave her here, Xena."

"No, we can't..."

"Could you send her back? You know, give a little crack on the head, knock her out again? If it was a blow on the head that sent her here, what about another whack to send her back? It might work!"

Xena gave her friend a doubtful look. "No, it would probably kill her. She's still suffering from that first head wound. Another hit on the head...no, that's not an option we have, Gabrielle. And it probably wouldn't work. We're going to have to keep an eye on her. We don't know what knowledge of the future she has. If she fell into some warlord's hands, and he managed to get information from her...it could change everything we know ."

"What do you mean, Xena?"

"Well, think about it, Gabrielle. You saw how different her clothes were...she's from 2,000 years in the future. And the clothes were just one little thing!! What kind of world did she come from? What does she know? Remember...knowledge is power...and knowledge can turn the tide of battle in an instant! Ten years ago, I would have done *anything* to get the kind of knowledge needed to defeat my enemies!! And knowledge of the future? If I had that kind of knowledge ten years ago, and used it to my advantage, I would've been unstoppable."

Gabrielle looked at her best friend. "Maybe you're right." The young bard thought for a few moments before speaking again. " You know, if we taught her *our* ways, she would fit in better, Xena. Taught her how to dress, how to live off the land, how to defend herself, how to act in a crowd so she wouldn't stand out...she needs to learn how to keep a low profile so she *won't* become a target. That might help her keep her mind occupied, too. And we won't always be here for her; eventually, she'll need to find her own way here, and she's going to need the skills to do that."

Xena thought this over, and nodded her head in agreement. "Sounds good. That's what we'll do. Come on. Let's go find her."

The two women got up and walked along the stream until they found Mariah, sitting on the shoreline, staring out over the water. What thoughts were running through her head, wondered Gabrielle, as she put herself in Mariah's place. How would I deal with it if I were taken from my world? No Lila, no family, none of her Amazon friends, and, worst of all, no Xena...how would I cope? What would I do? How would I react. Probably much the same as Mariah, thought the young bard. Fear, anger, tears...

"Mariah?" The two women sat down on either side of the young teacher. Gabrielle put her hand on the girl's shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you earlier. It's just that-"

"I know, Gabrielle," Mariah replied, clasping the bard's hand. "I-I'm still having a hard time believing it myself."

"We do have a plan to help you," said Xena. "Now that you're here, you're going to need to learn our ways so you won't stand out. There are some pretty unscrupulous people around here, people who would use your knowledge for their own means, and if word got out about you..." the warrior left the statement unfinished.

Mariah sighed. "Yeah, I guess I would be a pretty tempting target, wouldn't I?" She laughed a little and looked down at her pants and sneakers. "I guess I better start getting with the program by getting some new clothes."

"That's not all," Xena said. "You're going to have to get rid of a lot of your things. Hopefully, you can keep a few small items, but those...what did you call them, sunglasses? You'll have to get rid of those, your footwear, and your clothes. Probably your bag as well."

Xena rose to her feet. "Come on. We better get to work. I bought you some clothes when I went to town. And you could probably use something for the pain in your head," she finished, as she reached down to help up Mariah.

Mariah reached up and grabbed Xena's wrist. "I don't know how to thank the two of you," she began, as Xena hauled her to her feet.

Smiling, Xena said, "The best way you can thank us is to learn, and learn well so you can fit in and have a life for yourself. That's your only hope if you want to make it here, Mariah. "

Mariah agreed. What other choice did she have? They headed back to camp.

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Part Eight

Fireside Chats...


It was nighttime of that first fateful day of Mariah's new life.

Earlier, the women went through Mariah's belongings, tearing all of her twentieth century clothing into small strips, putting the strips on the fire to burn. The sunglasses were tossed on the fire; the flames licked greedily at the plastic and metal offering. Mariah, dressed in one of the outfits Xena picked up for her that morning, threw her watch and her sneakers on the fire as well. It would do her no good to hang onto them. Most of the contents in the bag were also tossed on the fire...her students' essays, her portable Shakespeare book, her checkbook, money, wallet, credit cards, pictures, the bottle of Tylenol. None of these things will help me here, she thought sadly, as she dragged a bare big toe through the dirt. Mariah stared at the flames and wondered. Will I be like the phoenix that rises from the ashes to start my life anew? Or will I slowly burn out and die like most fires? She had no answer for herself. Finally the bag itself was burned. After the fire burned itself out, the ashes would be buried deep within the earth, hopefully never to be found.

There were, however, a few things Mariah refused to part with.

"I can't get rid of my rings," she said. "My parents gave me those rings before they died. They're my only link with them. When I wear them, I'll turn them so the designs face inward. That way, they'll look like other rings." Xena agreed, but cautioned her to not forget to do that.

Then there was the matter of her journal.

"I won't give this up," she said tersely, cradling the book in her arms. "Words are my life, writing keeps me sane. Look, I'll keep it hidden somehow, but, please, you can't burn it, Xena. It would be like burning my soul."

Gabrielle, who herself realized how much words and language meant to her, sympathized and offered a solution. "We could keep it covered in the bottom of my scroll bag. That way, if anyone just looked in the bag, it wouldn't be seen." Mariah threw the emerald-eyed bard a grateful look.

"Fine," replied Xena. "You two work it out. But whatever you do, Mariah, you have to keep it hidden away. And the only time you can use it is when we're alone in camp."

Afterward, the women returned to the creek. It was time to start thinking about supper, and what better supper than fresh fish? The warrior and the bard taught Mariah how to fish. That wasn't too hard; Mariah had fished when she was younger, and, after a few tries, she was handling the pole with ease.

Xena and Gabrielle looked at each other. Maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all.

"Gabrielle, stay here with Mariah, would you? I'm going to brush down Argo after I feed and water her." The warrior smiled at her friend as she walked away.

Mariah turned to Gabrielle. "So how did you two meet up?"

Gabrielle smiled, her green eyes sparkling, eager at the chance to tell a good tale in front of a willing audience. "It's quite a story. It was a few years ago when I was still living in Potadeia. The village had just been attacked by slavers. We were being taken away when I hit one of the men. He was going to whip me when this woman appeared from out of nowhere. It was Xena. You should have seen her fight!! It was amazing. I'm still awed watching her fight. She's incredible. After that, I just had to get to know her better, so I followed her. She didn't like it at first; I think she was too used to being on her own. She soon came around. We've been traveling together ever since."

"So where did Xena learn to fight?" asked Mariah.

"That's a story in itself, and even *I* don't know the whole of it. What I do know is this: ten years ago, *her* village was attacked by a warlord named Cortese. She led an uprising against him, and her brother Lyceus was killed in the fighting. She started taking more and more land around her village to protect it. Soon, all the killing and mayhem turned her into one of the most ruthless, bloodthirsty warlords around. She was out absolutely out of control, a killing machine. That was the time when the name 'Xena: Warrior Princess' brought nothing but fear and dread. Then she met a man who helped her turn her life around, a man who took her from her path of destruction put her on the path of good. She was just starting to travel that new path and turn her life around when I met her."

"So what exactly do you two *do*?" asked Mariah, as she pulled a fish from the stream. "Is Xena some kind of soldier-for-hire? A mercenary?"

"Oh, no!! Xena would never do that. Those days are behind her," I hope, the bard said to herself, thinking of the few lapses Xena had had since they met up. "No, we travel. We help people. We see the world," Gabrielle said simply. "We live."

"And you...are you a warrior too, Gabrielle?"

Gabrielle laughed at that. "I'm more the bard type than the warrior type. Xena's taught me a lot about handling myself in a fight. I'm not too bad, but I'm not *nearly* in her league. No, I'm more comfortable telling a good story than mixing it up in a fight. Don't worry, though. We'll teach you some moves so you can take care of yourself when we get in a fight."

"'When we get in a fight,'" Mariah repeated.

"With Xena, it's never 'if,' it's always 'when,'" replied the bard, laughing. "You'll see."

"What kind of weapons does she use?"

"Anything. Everything. Her main weapons are her sword and her chakram, but she can use anything in a fight, from her fists to fish to frying pans. And has." Gabrielle chuckled to herself, thinking of some of Xena's more memorable fights.

"What do you use? Do you use a sword, too?" asked Mariah.

"Oh, no. Xena said carrying a sword makes you a target. I use an Amazon fighting staff," said Gabrielle, as she struggled to pull another fish from the stream. "I think we have enough. Let's clean these and start cooking them."

After their dinner of fresh fish, the women sat around the campfire. Xena sharpened her sword, Gabrielle worked on her scrolls, and Mariah, after cleaning up the dishes, stared silently into the fire. I have to tell them, she thought. She screwed up her courage, and looked at her two new companions.

Mariah spoke up. "You asked me a question earlier today, Gabrielle, and I never answered it. I-I think I'm ready to, now."

Gabrielle put down her scrolls and Xena set aside her sword. They both looked at Mariah, waiting for her to begin.

Mariah sat back, crossed her legs, tucking in her bare feet, the flames of the fire reflected in her blue eyes. "You wanted to know about me. It's only right that I do tell you. You two are going out of you way to help me...it-it's the least I can do."

"Mariah, you don't have to do this now..."

"No, Xena, I want to." Who am I kidding, she thought to herself, I *need* to. She exhaled audibly. "It's a long story..."

Gabrielle perked up, her green eyes dancing in the firelight. That was her favorite kind!!

"All you know about me is that I'm from another land, another time. I am a teacher." They could hear the quiet pride in her voice. "I taught teenagers. After they finished their studies, some went on to study more, others chose to go out into the world. There were over 3,000 students at my school, and over 200 teachers. Some of those teachers taught mathematics, some taught science, others taught history. I taught speech, literature, and writing."

Gabrielle smiled at her. "So that's why you couldn't give up your journal! Hey! I don't mind. I think it's great we have something in common. I mean, something in common besides fishing!"

Xena spoke up. "Yeah, great...now I got *two* of you who'll be talking my ears off!" She rolled her blue eyes in mock frustration, a smile on her lips.

Mariah smiled back at them. "Books, reading, writing, teaching, my students, school...that was my life for the last few years. In fact, I was leaving school when I slipped on that ice, cracked my head open, and wound up here. It was a life I loved. And I will miss it." Tears welled in her eyes as she continued her story.

"But I had another life while I was a teacher...it was not a pleasant life." Her eyes closed with the pain and fear of those memories, visibly struggling with her inner emotions. "It was a time of sickness...it was during this time that I got those scars you asked me about earlier, Gabrielle."

Xena's eyes narrowed as she listened more intently to this part of the story.

"It began around seven years ago. I had an illness, a disease that caused growths to form in my body. It was a deadly disease. If I had done nothing, the disease would have killed me. I didn't have many choices if I wanted to live--and *I* wanted to live!! The first thing that needed to be done was to cut out the tumors--growths--they knew about. So I went to a surgeon who did that. That's where I got this scar," she pointed to the barely visible four inch scar in the fold at the base of the left side of her neck, "and the scar on my stomach." She lifted her top so her companions could better see the vertical foot-long scar that ran down the center of her abdomen.

"But surgery wasn't enough. Soon after, the tumors started growing again. It was worse the second time. I began to have pain in my back, terrible pain, and soon after, lost the ability to walk. It was then they discovered the growth on my spinal cord. They had to cut me open and scrape it out. That explains the scar you saw on my back earlier today, Xena."

Gabrielle winced at the thought. By the gods, what this woman had gone through!!

"The second time, I was treated with drugs that killed the disease. It was hard, though. The drugs made me very sick, and I still had the problem of learning how to walk again. I had to be on those drugs for almost a year..."

"But I did it," she said, her eyes hardening against the memories. "By god, I did it. I took all that medicine. I vomited, I hallucinated, I stumbled around like a baby, when I was learning to walk again. And after all of that, I vowed to do something with my life, to make something of myself. I *survived*," she said, blue eyes blazing in the firelight. And, she said silently to herself, if I could survive all that, then I damn well can survive this.

For a few moments, no one spoke as Mariah breathed deeply to reign in her emotions.

"No one doubts that," said Xena, as she watched the young teacher calm herself down. "Sometimes, though, in order to survive, we need help. I didn't understand that myself until I met Gabrielle." The warrior smiled at her best friend, who smiled back. "And not just help in surviving the physical side of injury or disease, Mariah Sometimes the soul needs healing as well." Xena's eyes searched Mariah's, the warrior remembering her screams of that morning.

Mariah stared back at this warrior woman who seemed to be able to see into the deepest recesses of her heart, as Xena said, gently, "We're going to help you. And, by the time we're done with you, you *will* be able to make your own way in this world. You'll see."

Xena stood up and stretched. "We've had a long day...all of us. We better get some sleep. Gabrielle, don't even *think* about staying up talking half the night. It's hard enough to wake you up now," Xena said with a smile. "Sleep would do us all good, especially you, Mariah. With a head wound, you want to get all of the rest you can. We'll stay here one more day so you can get some of your strength back, and then we'll be on our way."

The warrior walked over to her sleeping place. Gabrielle sighed, got up, and walked over to her own bedroll. Mariah stayed by the fire a few more moments until she too decided to turn in.

She hoped the dreams wouldn't bother her tonight.

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Part Nine

Xena In Action...


Dawn slowly approached as the morning sun peeked over the eastern sky.

Surprisingly, Mariah had a relatively calm night, the tossing and turning due more to sleeping on the ground than any tossing and turning in her psyche.

As she awoke, she again took in the peaceful surroundings. The quiet was almost palpable. It was strange waking up and not hearing the all-too-common noises of cars driving past her house, train whistles blowing as the tracked vehicles moved through the downtown area...

She sat up slowly, her head throbbing slightly, the pain considerably diminished. She wished she could say the same about the pain in her back. The muscles shrieked in protest as she moved her arms and shoulders about in an effort to loosen up her sore, aching muscles.

Looking around as she stretched, she saw Gabrielle, asleep, snoring softly. Xena was not there, nor was Argo.

Quietly getting to her feet so as to not disturb the sleeping bard, she walked over to the waterbag for a drink. It was getting low, so she decided to go down to the stream and fill it up. Mother Nature was calling her, so first she went behind the bushes to relieve herself.

After filling the waterbag and cleaning herself up in the stream, she felt the need to stretch her legs. She wasn't used to this much inactivity, and after returning the waterbag to camp, she decided to go for a short walk.

She took in the sights and sounds the forest offered her. It's so calm, so peaceful, she thought to herself as she walked, her bare feet catching the dampness of the morning dew upon the grass, her muscles loosening up from the walk. She stuck to the trail. There was no sense wandering off in some unfamiliar wilderness.

As she walked, she heard a new sound. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. At first, she couldn't describe it, and then she realized what it was: it was something moving, cutting through the air at a fast rate of speed. Curious now, she followed the sound and came upon Xena, alone, in a small clearing, wielding her sword.

Mariah had never seen anything like this, not even in the Hong Kong action movies she so dearly loved The warrior's movements were as graceful as any dancer's as she kept the deadly blade in a twisting, whirling, glittering, constant stream of movement. She makes it look easy, Mariah thought, the blade flashing in the early morning sunlight, but the teacher knew it was an ease born of many years of practice. Her eyes had a hard time following the blade as Xena worked through a range of motions and movements designed to keep the warrior at the top of her form.

As she worked on the movements, Xena knew that Mariah had been watching her for some time. No use hiding it, the warrior princess thought to herself, as she slowed the movements of the blade. If she's going to travel with us, she needs to get used to it.

When the blade was still, Mariah stepped out into Xena's line of vision.

"You wield a pretty mean sword, Xena," the teacher said with a smile. "May I?"

Xena stared at her, her eyes narrowing. "You know how to use a sword?"

Mariah shook her head. "No. I never was much of a fighter. Well, not in the *physical* sense, anyway," she said, as Xena carefully handed her the weapon.

"It's beautiful. It's heavier than I thought it would be," said the teacher as she hefted the sword. "I don't know why, but I always thought swords of this size would be lighter." She handed the weapon back to the warrior.

"Do you have weapons like this where you come from?" Xena asked.

"We have worse," the teacher said simply, and Xena let the subject drop.

It was then that Mariah noticed the golden hoop on Xena's hip. She pointed to it. "Is that your," she searched for the word, "chakram? Gabrielle mentioned it yesterday."

"Yes," the warrior said, sheathing her sword in the scabbard on her back.

Mariah looked at the frisbee-shaped object closely. It looked like gold, but she was sure it wasn't gold. It was unlike any metal she had seen before, and was beautifully engraved.

Xena looked at her, amusement reflected in her blue eyes. "You want to see how it works?"

"Sure."

"Well stand over there, and whatever you do, *don't* move."

In a flash, the warrior reared back and threw the chakram. Mariah watched in amazement as it ricocheted off five trees before it returned to Xena, who caught it on the fly and returned it to its accustomed place on her hip.

"Amazing," the teacher said. "I've never seen anything like it."

Xena looked at her. "You're up early this morning. How do you feel?"

"Better," she said. "The head is much better, thanks. My back and shoulders, now that's a different story."

"Did they stiffen up on you? I was afraid of that. Here, sit down."

Mariah did as she was told, tucking her bare feet under legs, Xena kneeling behind her.

First, the warrior checked the gash on Mariah's head, which was healing nicely. The stitches could probably come out in four more days, she thought She then had Mariah lean over while she gently massaged the tender muscles in the girl's neck, shoulders, and back.

Mariah sighed as Xena's fingers kneaded her aching muscles, wincing only slightly when the warrior hit an especially tender area.

"Mmmmm, that feels good." Mariah said, as her weary muscles loosened up. "You're a healer, a warrior, a philosopher a masseuse..."

"Oh, I have MANY skills," Xena replied.

"I don't doubt it, Xena. I don't doubt that for a moment. Xena?"

"Hmm?"

Mariah wasn't exactly sure where to start. "Yesterday, Gabrielle told me a little about the two of you and the kind of lives you lead. She said that the two of you would show me how I could handle myself when a fight came along."

Xena didn't say anything for a moment as she continued to work on Mariah's aching back. "I always told Gabrielle 'words before weapons,' but it doesn't always seem to work out that way," she sighed. "Now that you're here, you *will* need to be able to defend yourself. Lone women make a tempting target. A *very* tempting target," she said grimly.

Mariah was quiet a few more moments. "Xena?"

"Yeah?"

"No offense, but I don't think I could use a sword. It's like what you told Gabrielle, that carrying a sword makes you a target. I won't go looking for trouble, but if trouble comes looking for me, I want to be able to deal with it."

The warrior laughed. "You're sounding more and more like Gabrielle. No, I don't think it *would* be wise for you to use a sword." Xena thought for a moment. "What about a fighting staff like Gabrielle has? It's a good weapon that doesn't look threatening."

Mariah thought it over. "Sounds good to me. I'll give it a try."

"Well let's go see if we can find you one," said Xena as she finished massaging Mariah's back. "How does that feel?"

Mariah flexed her muscles. "Wonderful. Thanks. Let me know if I can ever return the favor. I've given a massage or two in my time."

"Oh, I don't doubt it, Mariah. I don't doubt that for a moment," Xena said, parroting what the girl had said earlier.

Mariah blushed, and Xena took pity on her new friend. "Come on," she said with a smile. "There's a stand of wood over there that might have what we're looking for." She whistled sharply, and Argo appeared from the woods. "And after we find you a staff, you and I are going to town," she said looking at the girl's bare feet. "You need some boots."

Gabrielle was slowly waking up when the two women walked in the camp, Argo trailing behind. Mariah was walking in a new pair of brown leather boots, Xena was carrying what looked like a staff. She turned a sleepy eye to Mariah. "Oh, great...I suppose *you're* a morning person, too," she grumbled good-naturedly.

Xena spoke up, smiling at her sleepy friend.. "You two work on breakfast while I smooth out this staff," she said, pulling out a small cutting knife. She sat down, whittling off small branches and notches, smoothing out the rough edges.

Gabrielle got up, restarted the fire, and put water on to boil while Mariah laid out the food. It was a cold breakfast of the leftover bread and cheese, washed down with hot tea. The three ate, Xena while working on the staff.

Afterward, the warrior got up, picked up the staff and tossed it to Mariah, who caught it easily. It was a little longer than she was tall, with both ends rounded off. She ran her hands down the shaft. Xena had done a good job smoothing it out, she thought. Then she noticed something.

"It looks more like a walking stick," she said.

"That's the idea," said Gabrielle. "Who would ever think you'd be a threat with a walking stick?" She got her own staff out, as Xena took a hold of Mariah's.

"But watch what you can do with it," she said. The bard began twirling her staff in a series of practiced, intricate movements. She then stopped and went into a defensive mode as Xena lunged at her in a simulated attack, Gabrielle deflecting blow after blow. Then they switched roles, with Gabrielle being the aggressor and Xena being on the defensive.

Mariah's eyes widened as she watched the two friends spar.

When it was over, Xena tossed the staff back to Mariah. She caught it and twirled it around a few times, a pale imitation of Gabrielle, and almost knocked herself upside her head.

"Take it easy," Xena cautioned. "For now, get used to the weight and balance. Don't try anything fancy until your head, shoulders, and back heal up more. When you're more comfortable, we'll take you through the movements, and show you how to defend yourself against an attack."

"Yeah, there's no rush," added Gabrielle. "We've got plenty of time, Mariah."

Yeah, Mariah thought to herself. We've got time all right...about 2,000 years.

------------------------------

Part Ten

Training Days and Mondays...


Time passed quickly, the days turning into weeks.

Mariah's head wound had healed up enough for Xena to remove the stitches. The first thing the young teacher did was go wash her hair, luxuriating in the feel of the soap and water on her scalp. Her back and shoulder muscles soon lost their soreness, helped by swimming and learning how to use the fighting staff.

It was hard at first, especially with all of the walking and the breaking in of new boots. It wasn't that Mariah wasn't in good shape. She had worked out faithfully in both the swimming pool and the weight room, but now she was using muscles she had never used much before. She knew enough to stretch often, keeping her muscles warm and limber, especially her calf muscles and her hamstrings. Xena and Gabrielle gave her some tips and pointers, too.

Mariah learned much during those weeks. She learned how to start a fire, what plants were safe to eat and which ones she needed to avoid, the art and science of outdoor cooking (courtesy of Gabrielle), and where/how to successfully forage for food. Xena and Gabrielle even taught her the fine art of haggling when they visited village marketplaces.

The young teacher was a sponge soaking up all of this information. Now that she had resigned herself to her situation, she decided to make the best of it. Mariah had never shied away from a challenge; to her, next to beating cancer, this *was* the ultimate challenge, and she intended to come out victorious.

Now and then, there were some hurdles she had to conquer.

First, there were her hands.

Her twentieth century world and lifestyle didn't condition her hands for the kind of life she had to live in this world. Her hands were soft, tender. In fact, the first time she had sparred with Gabrielle, the stinging shock of the two staffs colliding made her palms and fingers sing in pain. After that session, she had to soak her hands in the cold waters of a nearby river to get the swelling down. Her hands soon adjusted, and through the sometimes painful process of training and living, they began to toughen up, developing some much-needed callouses.

Her rings posed a second problem.

She found out early that wearing the rings affected her grip on the staff. If she gripped it too tightly, her ring fingers would swell up Gabrielle suggested they put the two rings on a long necklace she could wear, and she could tuck the rings under her top. "Just think of it this way," the young bard told her. "You're wearing them close to your heart." Mariah smiled at Gabrielle, who seemed to always know the right thing to say.

There was the issue of her clothing.

Try as she might, Mariah was having a difficult time adapting to the wardrobe limitations of ancient Greece. Unlike Xena, she didn't feel comfortable wearing leather, and, unlike Gabrielle, she couldn't show off that much skin due to her scars. She didn't want people asking too many questions. With her friends' help, the young teacher finally created an outfit that was functional, yet comfortable, an outfit that covered her entire upper body from shoulder to hip. She finished it off with a wrap-around, above-the-knee skirt like Gabrielle wore.

And then there were her two companions.

Gabrielle reminded her a great deal of her friend Sandy. Like Sandy, Gabrielle loved to talk, tell stories, and chitchat around their nightly campfire. Mariah was grateful that Gabrielle like to talk so much; that meant she didn't have to talk about herself. Oh, she told Xena and Gabrielle some things about herself and her life in the twentieth century; they both tried to draw her out, but she didn't tell them *too* much. Mariah truly liked the young bard; it was almost as if she found a part of Sandy's soul in this young woman from Potadeia.

On the other hand, she had a hard time figuring out Xena.

There was the public Xena, ever alert, ever on guard, showing no emotion whatsoever; that Xena was one tough customer, Mariah thought. I'd hate to meet *her* in a dark alley. Then there was the private Xena, the one she had met that first night, the one who laughed easily around the campfire, the one who had helped her find a fighting staff and a good pair of boots. Mariah couldn't quite reconcile the two sides of this warrior woman. And so Mariah continually worked on the dynamics of the relationships with her companions.

And, while she was working things out, she found new loves in her new world.

She loved her staff.

Mariah loved the feel of the wood in her hands, loved working the intricate patterns and twirls, loved the sound it made as it cut through the air, loved the fact that it was her improving hand-eye coordination and reflexes that made it all come together.

The only thing she didn't love about it were the mistakes.

At the beginning, she made a lot of them, her body covered in the bruises of her mistakes. She thought she would never catch on, that she would only succeed in killing herself. Gabrielle and Xena were patient, repeating moves over and over until the teacher began to understand the movements and rhythms involved in wielding the weapon. She grinned triumphantly the first time she worked through a rather complicated pattern of moves and didn't hit herself once, Gabrielle cheering her on the whole time. Xena and Gabrielle didn't spar with her too much during this time; they wanted the young teacher to get familiar and comfortable with both the weapon and her new society.

So Mariah hadn't used the staff to defend herself. Yet.

Her favorite time to practice was the predawn early morning. This was her time of the day, the time when she could practice and be alone with her thoughts. She was usually the second one up; she wondered if Xena *ever* slept. The warrior's sleeping gear would be folded up and stowed away. Gabrielle would still be snoozing when Mariah would quietly pick up her staff and walk a short distance away so she wouldn't wake up the sleeping bard. There, she would stretch, warm up, and slowly start twirling the weapon, her muscles bunching and tightening, her body sweating, as the patterns she wove with the staff grew increasingly more and more complex. She practiced lunges, feints...practiced all the things the two women showed her. After, she would go to a nearby stream, clean up, and, if time allowed, go for a quick swim. By the time she returned, the sun was just coming in over the horizon, Gabrielle was waking up, and Xena was returning from her own practice and her hunting forays. The bard and the teacher would make breakfast and clean up the camp while Xena looked after Argo's needs. After breakfast, they would pack up and spend the day traveling to a new location. They would stop and rest during the day.

The young teacher found a second love--traveling.

This was unlike any traveling she had experienced before. And Gabrielle made it fun, the young bard talking a mile a minute about the many different adventures she shared with her warrior friend. Mariah, in turn, would tell the two women stories based on some of the movies she had seen and the literature she had read and taught. She had to change the stories around a bit so they'd fit the time. Gabrielle was especially fond of romance, and loved the stories of *Romeo and Juliet* and *Gone With The Wind*, while Xena was more partial to the action-based stories of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table and *Escape From Alcatraz*.

Her flute was her third love.

One thing that Mariah missed tremendously from her time era was music. She had loved music, and had always found solace in her favorite songs. Songs from the Beatles, Celine Dion, Madonna, the Carpenters, her favorite movies...often, she found herself humming and singing her favorite tunes when she was by herself, or while she rested from staff practice.

One day early in their travels together, the three women came upon the village of Tyldus. It had quite a complete marketplace, so they decided to pick up supplies. It was there that Mariah spied the flute. It wasn't much to look at; about a foot in length, and a little bigger in width than her thumb. It wasn't much different from the one she had played while in high school. The merchant saw her eying it, and told her to try it. She put it to her mouth, her fingers exploring the holes, and blew. Her fingers moved along the holes as she continued to blow, testing the instrument and her ability to master it. She liked what she heard; it had a fine musical quality, but she put it down, a little wistfully. They were a little short on dinars, and the money had to be spent getting supplies.

The old merchant looked at her. "You like it?"

"Oh, yes," replied Mariah. "But I can't afford it right now." She sighed. "I guess I'll get one another time."

The merchant carefully studied his customer, and then made a decision. "Then you leave me no choice: I will give it to you, but on one condition; that when you travel through this area again, you must come back here and play for me."

Mariah protested. "But I may never be back this way again. And it-it's too much."

But the merchant insisted, smiling at her all the while. "Your eyes tell me you have a greater need of it than I do," he said gently. "Take it. I hope it brings some of the peace you seek." Mariah, tears in her eyes at the old man's generosity, gratefully accepted the gift, hoping she *could* one day return and play for him.

She often took the flute with her during her morning staff practice sessions, adding that to her predawn routine. It took her some time to remaster the instrument; she hadn't played the flute on a consistent basis in ten years. The merchant had been right. Playing it *did* give her a peace of mind. She searched her memory for her favorite songs, and was soon roughing them out on the instrument. She was reluctant to play it around Xena and Gabrielle, for she didn't want to disturb them. After a hard day's traveling, Mariah thought, the last thing they needed to hear was her fooling around on her flute.

The young teacher also rediscovered her love for writing.

For the past few years, she hadn't written as much as she wanted. There always seemed to be something that cut in on her time. But now, she made an effort to get back to her writing. Around the nightly fire, as Xena sharpened her sword, and Gabrielle worked on her scrolls, Mariah wrote in her journal.

At first she wrote of her fears--how would she survive, what if the cancer came back, how could she deal with the dangers inherent in her new life...all of the negative things she could think of.

But as time passed, she noticed her entries took on a different tone, one of acceptance and hope and understanding. Mariah also began to write poetry, something she hadn't done since she was in college. Gabrielle must be rubbing off on me, she thought wryly. It was her hope that one day she could even set some of her poems to music, when she remastered the flute.

Gabrielle was always eager to share her work, the bard having a wonderful talent for poetry and stories, but Mariah was more hesitant, more shy. She rarely shared, and Gabrielle did not press her, feeling the young teacher would share when she felt ready.

Mariah also found the most important love of her life--friendship, camaraderie, acceptance.

She didn't find that new love right away. It wasn't anything that Xena or Gabrielle did; Mariah was reticent, restrained around them as she was around many people. She knew these two women had been together for a long time, and were the best of friends. She was respectful of the relationship between the bard and the warrior, and didn't want to intrude upon their friendship. They had gone out of their way for her, had done much to make her feel welcome, and she didn't want to be the third wheel infringing upon their close friendship. Gabrielle was as open and free as the wind, but the warrior sometimes kept a fairly tight rein on showing any form of emotion, and it was hard for the teacher to get a read on her. Just as Mariah had developed her "battle-mode" for dealing with illness, Xena had developed a "warrior's face" for dealing with life.

But she saw just how close their friendship was that night in Popolis.

They had been traveling the better part of a month. It had been a long day, one of those hot, humid, sticky days without a breath of air. Argo's head drooped in the heat, and all three women walked tiredly, sweat streaming down their bodies. They had come upon the village of Popolis, and decided to stable Argo and spend the night at the inn.

They ate dinner after they cleaned up. It was good to have someone else have to make the meal for a change. They were relaxing, Xena with a cup of wine, Gabrielle with her mead, and Mariah with a cup of ale. The three women talked easily about their recent travels, keeping to themselves as was their habit. It was a slow night at the inn; the local musician who provided the entertainment was home sick. Looking to perk up his business, the innkeeper asked if anyone would like to make a few dinars entertaining the crowd.

Gabrielle immediately spoke up. They could use the dinars and she hadn't performed as a bard since Mariah joined up with them. The young blonde got up on the makeshift stage, and told the story Xena freeing Death.

Mariah had heard the story from Gabrielle while they were traveling, but here the bard told it with all of the skill and nuance of a trained professional. She's found her calling, thought Mariah, marveling at Gabrielle's performance and presence. She's a natural with quite a gift.

And then Mariah looked at Xena. There was a mixture of embarrassment and pride on the warrior's face: embarrassment at being the topic of Gabrielle's story, and pride at her best friend's ability to skillfully tell a good tale. Her eyes glowed as she watched Gabrielle work the room, wringing every bit of emotion from the story she told. Xena looks like a delighted mother or lover, Mariah thought to herself.

When Gabrielle finished, Xena was leading the applause. Customers tossed dinars at the young bard, yelling for more. Gabrielle told three more stories, and then begged off, saying she needed to get some sleep. As they walked up to their room at the end of the evening, their ears rang with applause, and their purse was full of money.

Yeah, it's quite a pair I've met up, thought Mariah. Lucky me. I would be dead by now if it wasn't for those two finding me. And now, they're stuck with me, she thought. They're stuck with a cancer-traumatized, twentieth century high school English teacher who's ill-equipped to deal with ways of ancient Greece.

So she did what she could to keep out of their way.

Xena greatly admired and respected the young teacher for dealing with the realities of a situation many would have found incomprehensible. The warrior saw a lot of herself in this stranger from the future. She liked Mariah, and thought of her as a friend. Xena knew what the young teacher was doing, and was appreciative of it. She may have been a difficult read to Mariah, but the warrior easily picked up on the young teacher's cues. She and Gabrielle had been on their own for some time, and the warrior knew how difficult it was to suddenly be an outsider thrown in with two people who knew each other so well. But Xena also knew that Mariah was all alone in this strange new world, and her only link to survival was her two traveling companions. She had to open up more; she had to learn to *trust*. A few days after leaving Popolis, Xena talked to Gabrielle about this while Mariah was out for a swim.

"Gabrielle, I'm worried about Mariah. It's like she goes out of her way to avoid us so she won't be *in* our way."

"You noticed it too? I thought it was just the bard in me being overly sensitive," Gabrielle said, smiling at her best friend. She was very fond of the teacher who told such great stories and who wrote such wonderful poetry, and she sensed that wall of reserve Mariah had built around herself. She wasn't too sure how Mariah would like her charging over that wall. "So what do you want to do about it?"

"We have to find a way to draw her in more, make her feel like she's a part of us." Gabrielle opened her mouth, but Xena gently cut her off. "No, it's nothing that either of us has done to her to make her feel like an outsider. I think, deep down, she's afraid."

"Afraid? Afraid of what?" asked the bard.

"She sees how close we are; I think she's afraid she'll ruin that for us by her being here. You know: two's company and three's a crowd. We've got to get that idea out of her head, Gabrielle."

The opportunity for doing just that presented itself that evening.

------------------------------

Part Eleven

Much Ado About A Lot...


It was a beautiful night. There wasn't a cloud in the sky as the stars shown down from the heavens.

It started like every other night. Gabrielle and Mariah cleaned up after dinner and laid items out for breakfast in the morning while Xena fed, watered, and brushed Argo.

After the chores were done, the three sat around the campfire; Xena with her sword, Gabrielle with her scrolls, Mariah with her journal. Mariah had a hard time focusing on her journal, and after getting angry and frustrated with herself because she couldn't concentrate, she decided to go to bed earlier than usual.

She awoke a few hours later in a cold sweat, shivering under her blanket, plagued once again by her cancer dreams. It had been a few weeks since she had had the dreams; she thought she was beginning to leave them behind as she left the rest of her twentieth century life behind. Gabrielle hadn't heard her, but Xena had. Mariah sat up and rolled herself in her blanket, and sat, hunched over, shivering with the coolness of the night air, her rapidly drying sweat, and her memories.

"You want to talk about it?" a quiet voice asked.

"Xena! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"That's OK. I'm a light sleeper," the warrior said, getting up from her sleeping place and coming over to sit down next to Mariah.

The two women sat in silence, one upset and fearful, the other patiently waiting.

"Mariah, it would help if you talked about it."

"I-I don't know if I can. I've never talked about my dreams with anyone."

"Why not?"

Mariah was getting a little uncomfortable. "I always figured it was my own business, that I had my own private demons to deal with. And I thought I could handle it by myself."

Xena thought for a moment. "Mariah, how long have you been having these dreams?"

"For about seven years. Ever since," she stopped, swallowed hard, started again, "ever since I was first diagnosed with my illness."

Xena put an arm around her, pulling her close, not saying anything. Mariah, enveloped in the warrior's warm, solid arm, soon began to cry. Xena wrapped both arms around her, hugging her, rocking her, soothing her as she did Gabrielle in those horrible days and weeks following Perdicas's death. Mariah clung to the warrior as she wept for her pain, her fears, her anger, and mourned the part of her innocence that died when she was forced to come face to face her own mortality at so young an age. As she cried and mourned, she felt the burden of her illness begin to shift a little off of her shoulders. She felt better. She felt hope.

As her tears dried up, Xena was still there, holding her, rubbing her back to calm her down. Mariah, her face burrowed in Xena's shoulder, emotionally spent, said to the warrior, "I-I don't know what to say. Thank you doesn't begin to cover it. I know this sounds funny, but I haven't felt this good in a long time."

"No, it doesn't sound funny at all," Xena replied gently. "Do you feel more like talking now?"

Mariah was, but wasn't ready to let go of the comfort Xena provided. As Xena held her, she told the warrior what she had told no one else: told her of her struggles, her hopes, her fears, her anger. She began to cry again as she broke down and told Xena about the dreams. Xena held her tight. When Mariah looked up, she saw tears in Xena's eyes, tears running down her face.

"Oh, Xena, I didn't mean to get you crying, too!" said Mariah, sitting up.

"There's nothing wrong with tears, Mariah. Remember what I said to you a few weeks ago about healing the soul? Well, I think you began you're healing tonight. You know, you and I are a lot alike...more alike than I think you realize. We've both gone through some very painful times, and we've both thought that we could carry that burden all by ourselves. But being with Gabrielle has taught me something; being strong doesn't mean being alone. Being strong means having the courage to ask for help when you need it, sharing your joys and your sorrows, and letting people get close to you in your life. Gabrielle and I...well, we're the closest thing you have to a family. We *are* your family now, Mariah. And you're a part of ours."

"But Xena, I would never want to get between yours and Gabrielle's friendship. I mean, you two are so close..." Mariah trailed off, looking down. "I don't want to spoil that friendship," the teacher said softly.

"You couldn't, Mariah," said Xena, cupping the teacher's chin, lifting it so she could look in her eyes. "Stay with us as long as you like. Please. And when the day comes that you're ready and you want to set off on your own, you'll have mine and Gabrielle's blessing. And our love. And Mariah...never forget who *we* are....we are not just three people who travel together. We are more than that. We are three friends...three sisters."

Mariah looked at this woman who had given her so much. "Thank you," she said, unshed tears glittering in her eyes. She grabbed the warrior in a ferocious hug. "Thank you for everything...my sister friend."

Xena returned the hug, glad that she could help her friend begin healing the hole in her heart and the rift in her soul.

As they separated from their hug, Xena looked at Mariah and said, "Now when will you play your flute and sing for us?"

Mariah stared at her friend in amazement. "How did you know about that? I never sang or played around you or Gabrielle!!"

"Oh, I have MANY skills," Xena said with a big smile, arching her eyebrow. "One of which includes checking on a certain friend of mine who gets up so early every morning and goes off by herself." Mariah blinked. "Well, I have to see how you're coming along on your staff practice, don't I?" said Xena. "And we should start working with you more on defensive strategies. We haven't run in to any trouble yet, but you never know."

"But why didn't you say anything earlier?" Mariah asked.

"Sometimes, Mariah, we *need* to be by ourselves," the warrior said simply.

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