#i have a FIVE HOUR LONG grad school interview tomorrow

[anna-scribbles]

comic of my morning

[fuwafuwamedb]

GilTech (Gilgamesh, Ritsuka, Siduri, Hakuno)

“Gilgamesh is GilTech.”

Ritsuka hurried after the woman, both he and Mash looking at one another as the CEO’s very own secretary led them through the hallways.

“Every advance, every improvement and patent that has come out in the last five years, it has all come from these very offices. Our people work around the clock, testing and brainstorming, imagining new ways to bring people into a more and more successful future,” Siduri told them, motioning at the windows as they walked by various rooms.

The monitors that could be brought forth from small projectors and typed upon were in each of the rooms. A group in another room were testing the glove card, one that would require a person to be wearing the glove to approve authorization and allow for one to wave their hand over a register at checkout. The cash register they were testing in another room had the capability of letting items simply move over a belt in order to be scanned, the objects permitted to face any direction they pleased.

“This is great,” Mash murmured.

Siduri laughed. “These are bored trinkets. Our CEO thought of them while out recently. The scientists in the labs have been concocting ideas to solve the everyday tasks of the everyday man.”

More rooms.

There were chips being tested with samples of different vials. A monitor showing illnesses flashing with each thing tested.

“What’s that?”

“Pet project” Siduri replied as she smiled, motioning them on.

The halls were gold. The floors were black tile with gold veins running through them. They could see rich fabrics hanging from the walls as they approached the highest office in the building.

So it was true…

The greatest man in all of history, the cutthroat, vicious bastard of the technological world: Gilgamesh.

He actually allowed new employees to be introduced to him before they began to work for him.

It was a good thing both he and his friend Mash had both dressed up for their first day. Actually, it was probably just a good thing he’d listened to Mash’s worries rather than telling her to not worry about them.

They could hear voices as they approached the offices.

“…What do you mean you don’t have time?!”

“I told you, I’m working the afternoon shift. I want to keep my income coming.”

“If you need money, you should just use-“

“I’m not using your money when I can earn my own, Gil.”

Siduri paused in front of the door, her mouth forming a silent ‘o’. She motioned for them to keep quiet and took a step away.

“Hakuno…”

“You have this business and it keeps you happy. I should do my part as well while you’re helping me by loaning me my grad school money.”

“You could work for me,” the other voice told her. “Siduri could no doubt use an assistant. We could set your office in here and-“

There was a silence.

Then a snicker came, footsteps moving in the other room.

“You make such entertaining faces, Hakuno, but your work is so futile. You’ll never work off the debt that I have sent you into.”

“Stop raising my interest rates.”

“I lower them sometimes.”

Another moment of silence.

Another second of snickering.

“Jerk.”

“How long are you working today?”

“Six hours. By the time you get done with work, I’ll only need an hour to be off myself.”

“We’re eating dinner together.”

“We live together, remember? Someone moved all my belongings into his house and stuffed them into one of his garages.”

“I’ll take you to that restaurant with the three-page dessert menu.”

“…Are you bribing me?”

“Think of it as an investment.”

“I want my loan interest down to 1%.”

“5%.”

“2% and I can order anything on the dessert menu.”

3% and I feed you every bit of whatever dessert you decide you need from that menu.”

“Deal.”

The smug voice was met with the other laughing again.

“What?”

“I don’t even remember what percentage your interest was at from the last time we bickered.”

“You had it at 20%!”

The laughter became louder as a series of footsteps headed their way. Mash pulled him aside as both he and Siduri took another step away from the offices.

“I have to go to work now, Gil.”

“Hakuno, come here.”

“I’m not having sex with you until my loans are paid off.”

“…Don’t overestimate yourself, Hakuno. I am waiting for your proper farewell.”

“I said I’m going.”

“Hakuno…”

The tone was darker.

Siduri moved forward, biting her lip as she listened intently to the two in the other room. He could almost see her praying to the woman in the other room.

“Are you really going to insist?”

“No, leave.”

“Alright.”

Nothing moved.

A pin could have dropped with all the noise of a plane taking off for how silent the area was at the moment. The sounds of their heartbeats filled the air. Or perhaps it was just his heart that was so damn loud.

“I thought you were leaving.”

“I haven’t given my farewell yet.”

Now there were footsteps. The sound of something being pushed on a desk could be heard, joined by the sound that couldn’t be anything other than two people kissing.

The shuffling sound continued in the other room for a minute before-

“I have to go, Gil. I’ll be late.”

“I’ll take tomorrow off.”

“Take the weekend and we can go camping. Enkidu said they saw some baby wild cats out where they have their resort.”

“…I shouldn’t.”

“I’ll leave my homework behind.”

“Siduri is already fixing my schedule.”

The footsteps came a minute later. Hakuno, the woman who seemed to have the greatest bastard on earth… human stepped into the hallway and closed the door only to look at the three of them.

There was no mistaking the grocery store uniform.

“Siduri.”

“I hope you enjoy your weekend with Gilgamesh, Miss Hakuno,” Siduri told her, smiling. “He does long to take breaks. Maybe the weekend break will be a nice change of pace.”

The woman nodded, glancing their way.

“New recruits for GilTech?”

“M-my name’s Ritsuka. This is Mash.”

The woman pulled a pair of sunglasses over her eyes and smiled. “Just don’t be useless and Gilgamesh will be great to work with. He is a great person… on occasion.”

On occasion?

The woman was already heading away as Siduri moved forward and pulled the office doors open.

Ritsuka and Mash both looked in, sensing the dark, foreboding presence before they saw the glowing red eyes, the dark room and the back lighting making the man look more like a mob boss than a businessman.

“I see the new researchers are already at my door, Siduri… You’re all ten minutes early.”

The man has to be a mobster.

Or a felon, Ritsuka amended, noting the security director he’d met during interviews coming in through a side door. The red tattoos on the man’s face, the long hair slicked back into a ponytail, and the razor teeth made Alt Cu Chulainn the most feared man in this building.

“Ah, the personnel files,” Gilgamesh purred, taking the folders from Alt’s hands. “Let’s see what our two new people have to offer.”

[uncivilengineering]

What Kind of Two Years Has it Been

At the end of an experience, and therefore a blog, I usually write a reflection on the experience. The Master's programme ended six years ago and due to life and procrastination and other excuses, I'm finishing this blog only now. But this delay has its advantages, because I know how the story ends and I can tell you what happened to the characters. So maybe, for the first time, this is truly an epilogue.

The journey to this program started in 2012. I was living in Germany and working as a consultant. I always knew I wanted to work first before continuing with any kind of education, because toward the end of undergrad, I had classes with grad students and the ones who had work experience before going back to school seemed to bring more to the experience from applying what they learned from the real world. As I researched Master's programmes, I focused my search in Europe because I was still paying off the loans for my Bachelor's degree. I Googled another program when the MIND programme turned up in the results. After a process of applying, obtaining references, phone interviews and traveling to Munich from Stuttgart to take the GRE in Germany (really), even though this is Europe, the choice came down to Humboldt University in Berlin, with a scholarship from the DAAD, and the MIND programme, with a scholarship from the European Commission. (Lappeenranta University of Technology in Finland takes a close third because I had a really, really pleasant scholarship interview with a very pleasant young man and sometimes I think about how my life might be different if I went there and studied Innovation Management instead.)

I'm sure there was a long decision process and I'm sure I spent a lot of time thinking about it, like most decisions. This all took place eight years ago and I cannot remember the salient details. But I can imagine that I felt like it was time to leave Germany, even though I love (LOVE) Berlin, and the appeal of having an adventure in two countries (I didn't yet know that Asia was on the table) was great. So I gave notice at the consulting firm, said goodbye to my friends in Stuttgart, (wrapped up my last performances as a roller skating Greek muse in the local military base's production of Xanadu - that's real) and moved to Sweden.

In the two years that ensued, I met the best people, took wild risks, had the best time, made my dreams come true and had the adventure I sought. I lived.

I lived in Sweden for a year and was inspired by their example of how to treat guests in your country. I had a job interview in a sauna in the winter and learned what gender equality in society might actually look like. After an application process, I had the opportunity to spend a semester in Thailand. In Thailand I learned how to get from the university to town (Bangkok) and back again. I hosted a cultural show that lasted for eight (or more?) hours. I felt closer to my mom than I had ever understood before. C pointed out that after the midterm exams, I have sat for exams on three continents. I celebrated my birthday at a German brewery in Bangkok. I saw Angkor Wat after the semester ended. I went to all the Disneylands in the world (at the time...back then, there were only 11 parks). I didn't stay long in Austria, but I was there long enough to experience a Buschenschank and run into visa problems. I also saw Carousel and Cabaret in German, and puzzled as to why it was an hour longer than Cabaret in English, which I saw soon after on Broadway. In Glendale I lived in a conference room turned into an ad hoc intern bullpen for four and a half months writing my thesis. I saw things I had been nearby my entire life but never dreamed of seeing in reality.

Blogs are cheesy and navel-gazey but I am glad I did it. I am glad that this and the Germany Part I blogs exist. Sometimes I will look at an old post because someone asked for a travel recommendation (for example), and I will discover something that I forgot. I didn't remember that I was contacted by Swedish public radio to talk about the 2012 United States election. I forgot I had this conversation at NASA JPL about living in Germany. So what's the moral of this paragraph? If you can't blog, at least journal. You think you will remember the exciting things that happen in your day to day life but the truth is, you won't. I am proof!

What happened to everyone? Some stayed in Europe. Some went home. Some went home in Europe. Some got married. Some had babies. Some moved to Amsterdam. Many stayed in Sweden. When I left C, she wanted to stay in Italy. She has since worked her way up to an awesome job at a major company and had a baby! A has moved and is engaged to be married! I was happy to attend C's wedding in Ankara in 2015. I was happy to attend Z's wedding in Czechia last year, and to see my friends again at both.

What happened to me? I accepted an internship in Florida where I spent about five years (and made a bunch of new friends and had a bunch of good times) before moving back to the country where I left when this all started. To be honest, I never expected to be back. Not in this country. In 2017, I was fortunate to attend my class reunion in Leiden; it was also the celebration of the closing of the program. They invited all alumni back to watch the last class graudate. I met the newest generations of the program and saw a lot of old friends. It was just like old times. I came to the first afternoon of the organized program. I thought we would observe the new kids doing their work. No. We kicked off with a case exercise and divided into groups to discuss and then present our results. Our groups consisted of current students, alumni, professors and mentors. In Europe, we are all equal. It was just like old times.

The rest of the program consisted of lectures, discussions and watching the final presentations of the graduating class. Before I left for this trip, I joked that my master programme was ending because it lost funding (truth) from the European Commission because of Brexit (also true but I didn't realize it until I got there and they confirmed that Brexit was one of the factors that cut funding to the programme). There was a party the final evening. In the way that we do. I remember telling all my friends that it would be a very long time before I will see them again. I couldn't foresee an immediate excuse to get to Europe and hang out with them. The day I returned to work in Florida from the trip, I received an email about joining a project that is based in Germany. If I chose to accept this mission, I would have to move to Germany for a period of time. What.

I learned later that, basically, someone found out that I know German. (I promise that I have other skills.) When I was in high school, if you told me I was going to move to Germany, I would have said that you're crazy. I was just this nerd who went to Space Camp and really liked The West Wing and Saturday Night Live. If you told me I was going to move to Germany twice, I would have said, "Then why did I spend all this time learning Spanish?" (among other questions) I know that's true, because I did ask myself that in the first two months of intensive language school in 2010. But the truth is, Germany made things happen for me. When I talk to young people who (for some reason) ask for my advice, in addition to telling them to "follow your dreams," I also tell them the story of how moving to Germany (the first time) changed my life. (And then I tell them why so they know I'm not exaggerating.)

I couldn't refuse. I'm back in Germany. I'm working on getting better at German.

I should have seen this coming. The fall I moved to Sweden in 2012, I came back to Germany to celebrate Thanksgiving. During my Swedish spring, the squad from Germany came to visit Sweden and I put in my tea and hairspray requests (from dm, of course). After my thesis defense in 2014, my first destination was Nuremberg to see E, then on to Quakenbrück to wait with C who was finishing her defense. I attended S's wedding in Leipzig in 2015. I went to Oktoberfest in Munich in 2016. The point is, I cannot stay away from Germany. This is evident and not a surprise.

So far, I have been fortunate that this opportunity has allowed me to meet up with so many friends. A and M are in Amsterdam and have introduced me to Y and T, who are also in the MIND network. S is back in Oslo from Thailand. A is in London. S has moved from Stuttgart to Berlin. A and P and B and K and E are in New York. I still cite the meal in Haarlem (note that's Haarlem in the Netherlands, not Harlem, but I can see why you might be confused because I just mentioned New York) as the best I've ever had and J told me that the restaurant has received a Michelin star since 2014 when we were there so now it's overpriced and overrated. So funny! At Z's wedding in Czechia last year I was happy to reconnect with A, B and M. Everyone else, I'm coming for you! (And I mean that in the creepy way!)

What's going to happen next? Let's find out! Thank you for reading and joining the adventure.

Good night, have a pleasant tomorrow and see you in the future!

Lauren

[forallyourikemensengokuneeds]

Leason learned ch 1

This does have a few warnings. Mention of date rape drugs and drugged rape. Single pregnancy also.

On moblie and can’t put in a break. Sorry.

The teacher list who needed Ta's had been posted for a week before she had got the chance to look at it. She was kicking herself now even more than she had been already. If her life hadn't been going down hill since she got the news that changed everything and then her parents had cut off the financial aide because of her decisions this was going to be the next bad thing in her life. At twenty two she was technically an adult and had been for four years as she had gone to college and then Grad school this was her final year. She had managed to scrape up enough for tuition and books and even a small apartment but she needed to make a little money to prepare for her new reality.

The last teacher accepting  Applications was the one she had avoided for the five years she had been at the school. There was something about him that set her awareness off. Not only was he one of the best forensic  investigators in the world he was handsome as hell as well. She hung her head low and swallowed her pride as she headed to his office. There was a box of applications outside his door and she took one and sat down by the door to fill it out when the door opened and there was a woman who was crying as she looked horrified and nearly ran from the door.

"Oh another one, good." The professor said as he looked down at the woman sitting in the floor. His sarcasm was thick, "well come on and let's get this over with."

"Sir, I-was just filling this out. I didn't expect an interview today." She replied.

"Does it truly matter if today or tomorrow? Will the information change in twenty four hours?" He asked.

"No sir." She replied as she stood.

"Then let's get this over with." He said as he took her application and turned and went into the office and she followed as she squared her shoulders and then looked around the room and saw there was no personal touches. There were no windows and she looked at the door and saw the same. "Well Mouse what do you see?"

"Nothing." She replied.

"And that means?" He asked.

"I honestly see nothing. There is nothing in here that shows who you are. I believe this room was once a storage closet. The lack of windows gives that away, the door is the same. No window." She replied.

"What else do you see?" He asked now amused at this one person.

"You're a Private person. You don't take your accomplishments too seriously. You're not married or at least you wear no ring. You must work out as the sports bag in the corner. Im guessing that with your impatience to complete this interview you never wanted a TA to begin with but the department just got a grant to hire one for every professor and your hand was dealt." She said.

"Why do you need this job?" He asked with a gleam in his golden eyes.

"To make money." She replied.

"We all need a job for that. You could easily qualify for assistance obviously why this job?" He asked.

"You're the only professor left." She replied. "I meed a job that can work around my schedule here at school."

"Why?" He asked.

"Because I need to cram two semesters into one." She replied.

"So you only plan to work for one semester? I thought the job posted was for both?" He asked fully knowing that it was.

"I will work for you as long as I can into the second semester." She said swallowing hard.

"And the reason for your departure?" He asked.

"Is personal." She replied.

He stared at her for a moment and then nodded, "Quite right. Some things should remain completely personal. Be here at eight am tomorrow and we will go over your hours and responsibilities."

"Wait you're hiring me?" She asked surprised.

He chuckled and the sound filled the room, "Mouse I do believe you will fill the job well."

"Thank you sir!" She said.

"First rule don't call me sir." He said as his eyes snapped back into a hard stare.

"Yes professor." She said as she stood and placed her hand out.

"Miss Hanson I will see you in the morning", as he took her hand and shook it and she turned out of the office. She had a shocked smile on her face but she was breathing out easier. Not only did she get a job but she had virtually said she would have to leave the position mid semester as well and he was accepting of that. She nearly bounced out of the building to her car.

This was going to be a new start of her being self reliant. She had a long way to go but this was her new start. She made her way back to the small dingy apartment she had and looked around it had potential for something but for now she sat down on the futon and sighed.

She was up at sunrise and on her way to the building. She squared her shoulders again and took a deep breath and instantly regretted that. She felt like she was going to be sick. She tried to swallow the feeling. It wasn't going away. She walked up the stairs to the office of the professor who hired her and found him sitting at his desk as she knocked on the door that had been propped open. He was hunched over his desk with a bowl of food that was mushed and mixed together, she tried to swallow the feeling again but couldn't. She turned and ran to the rest room and threw up. She finished and washed her mouth and tried to clean herself up before she walked out and back to the office.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Fine." She replied.

"Miss Hanson is there anything I need to know?" He asked.

"No." She replied as she took the seat across from the desk. "Now what exactly will I be required to do?"

"Straight to business. I appreciate that." He said with a smirk. He began listing everything that she would have to which included helping grade papers, making copies, fetching items for him at times, helping with office hours, and keeping his schedule open. She nodded as he listed everything and he was watching her as she took notes. She knew he was. She knew she should tell him as it would be out soon enough but she wanted to show him she could do this job and finish her course load. For some reason proving herself to one person would make all the difference. He was that one person. She would be the best assistant he ever had, she resigned herself to being that.

She would show the world she was okay with what was thrown at her. She would roll with the punches that life gave her and though she was down and out right now she would rise again. She had so many things to worry about this job didn't seem to be one of them. She smiled to herself. This was going to be alright as she sighed to herself.

"Mouse are you paying attention?" He asked as it seemed she zoned out for a moment.

"Yes professor." She replied with a smile.

"Really now? What was the last thing I said?" He asked as he sat back in the chair watching her.

"You said you preferred your coffee black and that certain blend." She repeated.

"Good. You surprise me mouse." He said as he leaned forward. "I do believe we shall work well together."

"Professor my name is Noelle, not mouse." She said.

"However I will continue to call you Mouse." He smirked, "it seems to fit you more."

"Thanks a lot." She said sarcastically.

"You're very welcome." He replied with the nonchalance that only someone who didn't care what people thought of them. She wondered if she could learn that from him as well. She hadn't taken his class before so she would have to crash study it as he taught it so she could keep up with the demand of being his assistant. "Now mouse, you look exhausted did you stay out partying last night?"

"I don't party." She replied.

"Hot date then?" He asked with his eye brows up.

"I don't date either." She said.

"Then what?" He asked.

"My neighbors were fighting all night. The apartment I live in had paper thin walls." She said as she rubbed her eyes.

"Then you should move." He said.

"I wish I could." She said as she nervously laughed slightly, "I barely can afford that one."

"Then This job should help out with that." He replied.

"I have other things to buy then a new apartment." She said and he again looked her over.

"I expect that you will be dedicated to this position Mouse. If I give you work to do I expect it to be done in a timely manner and your personal life to not effect your job here."He said.

"And that means what exactly?" She asked.

"Do not bring your significant others here to distract you." He said. She started laughing almost to the point she had tears in her eyes.

"That won't be a problem, Professor." She said.

"I am not sure I follow." He said softly.

"I have no 'significant other' to worry about and I don't see that issue arising anytime soon." She replied.

"Why ever not?" He probed as he looked her over again.

"I just don't." Noelle said as she looked back at him. Now was the perfect chance to say the reason why but she couldn't bring herself to say it. The last time she said the words her parents looked at her with disgust saying she had thrown her life away. She knew life was never going to be easy again but she was determined. For some reason beyond her knowledge she wanted one person to see she could do it and make something for herself. Again it fell to This Professor for that to happen.

As he gave her the list of things he needed before classes started the next week and she set off to get them for him. This was going to be the most difficult thing she had ever done but she was going to do it all.

[faveficarchive]

Together

By Blue Dragon

Pairing: Mel/Janice

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Mel and Janice are on another dig with friends, and come to terms with the shifting nature of their relationship.

Staring out at the sun setting low on the desert horizon, Doctor Janice Covington pulled a cigar from the inside pocket of her jacket. This was her favorite time of day. The locals hired on to be diggers had all gone home, except for those few trustworthy enough for sentry duty, that is. The rest of the staff was either taking a breather before dinner or preparing for tomorrow's labors.

Hopefully, they'll get better, Janice thought as she lit her cigar. The day's labors were nothing to write home about.

It was the time of day where Janice was free to stand outside her tent in the meager shade, relax with a cigar and survey her kingdom.

Not that its much of a kingdom, she told herself, letting the thick smoke play in the air as she exhaled. But it will suffice. At least for now. She thought about that for a moment or two. "No, this is all I want. All I can handle." She muttered aloud. Looking around to see if anyone was in hearing distance, Janice chuckled. "Wonder if Gabrielle talked to herself. Guess I'll never know."

Janice relaxed after ascertaining that no one would be privy to this little habit she shared with both her father and mother. Thinking aloud was apparently a genetic trait. At least in her family. At least that was what her father told her. How could she know?

Shaking her head to free her mind of what ifs surrounding her family, she settled on contemplating the more recent past. Three months recent in fact. She grimaced at the memory of Ares and his "cursed" tomb. It had taken this long for the team to regroup, move the dig about two miles to the south, and get settled in. Surprisingly, the cover story they devised had worked and the crew was able to continue with their work unsupervised for at least the last month. The first two months had the Greek officials out to the sites every other day to make sure no more accidents occurred.

The cover story was that Smythe had held Janice, Melinda and Jack hostage in the tomb while his bullies searched it. Unfortunately, they didn't find anything. Also unfortunately, when one of the thugs opened a previously sealed door to another cavern, Smythe himself went to investigate. Too bad that the cavern was filled with natural gas and Smythe was a smoker. Apparently his cigarette caused a massive explosion. Janice, Mel, and Jack were barely able to escape with their lives. It was only fair, they were in a different part of the tomb after all and couldn't see what was going on.

The Greek officials said nothing condemning towards them. It wasn't their fault. These things happen. It was a risk in Archeology. Everyone knew that. They did warn Janice to be more careful about trusting certain people and to make sure that the caverns were aired out properly in the future. She agreed with appropriate humility, and all was well. The head of Greece's Department of Archeology didn't like Smythe anyway. He was happy it was "all above board" as he called it.

Getting Jack to agree hurt. A lot. She ended up bribing him with two of the Joxer Scrolls as he called them. She wasn't too much worried. Knowing Jack, he'd have them translated, put in a box and they'd be the archeological find of the next century when his great grand kids finally clean out his attic. With her luck, they end up being the basis for a cheap movie or radio program. What was it Ares had said? Idiocy was a family trait? Nope, She thought, nothing to worry about there.

The locals that had helped set everything up for the explosion eagerly went along with the idea. In exchange for an extra two days off, one with pay, of course. Most of them were just happy to be rid of the curse that had haunted the dig site. None of them realized that Smythe was cause of the curse. Then again, they really didn't care.

Convincing the rest of the staff and the students working the dig was also not a problem. She simply told them what she told the Greek officials. The senior staff members were all on a holiday anyway, playing around in one of the nearby villages buying supplies, getting laid, relaxing, whatever. Janice really didn't care what they were doing at that time, just that they believed her story. They did. After all, being able to talk her way out of anything also ran in the family. She did, however, tell two of her most trusted friends on the staff, Julie Waitreford and Roger Grant, the truth. They didn't believe her. She hadn't expected them to really.

Melinda, on the other hand, had posed a problem until Janice had her recite the story aloud. Janice had laughed hearing Mel's version of events. She could still hear the Southerner's voice in her head:

"Well, Smythe and his bunch of bullies accosted us and dragged us into the tomb. We found the Scrolls after Smythe had disappeared, and then found half of this round killin' thing that had belonged to Xena. Smythe showed up with the other half and tried to kill me. Dr. Covington saved me and we went into this other part of the tomb where all the torches lit by themselves. Then I was possessed by Xena so she could fight Ares, the God of War. The next thing I know was Dr. Covington helpin' me to my feet and then blowin' up the tomb to keep Ares from escapin'."

It still made Janice smile. After hearing for herself just how incredible the story sounded, Melinda agreed that the lie was better. Although she still didn't agree with the concept of falsehoods.

The dinner bell rang at that moment, tearing Janice away from thoughts of the tall, dark and enigmatic Southerner. She took one last look at her little kingdom, extinguished her cigar, put it away to keep it safe for later and went to wash up for dinner.

***

Dinner in the common mess type tent was a self serve affair. It was set up in a buffet style line and the staff, whatever field workers stayed at the camp, and their families could help themselves to whatever the cooks had decided to make that day. The kitchen was only open for three meals, and only for an hour and a half for each meal. It was a strict policy that if you missed out, you were on your own. Long ago, on one of her father's digs, Janice had learned never to wait and try her luck. She didn't appreciate missing a meal.

Janice grabbed a tray and walked through the line mindlessly gathering food onto her plate. She, like certain ancestors before her, didn't care what it was, as long as it was edible. She had that one, of several, advantage over most of her colleagues. She had found very few types of food that disgusted her in her travels. Most of the time she barely even noticed what she was eating unless it was either very good, very bad, or squid. Squid and sushi fell into the very bad, do not touch, I-can't-believe-you- want-me-to-eat-that category. She made it a point to interview the cooks closely to ascertain their feelings of seafood. If they believed fish should be cooked and squid should be used only for bait, they were hired.

Dr. Paul Stafford, Julie, Melinda, and Roger were already sitting at the "Round Table" when she finished gathering enough food to satisfy her appetite. She walked over and sat her tray down as Melinda was engaging Stafford in a conversation on Southern cooking.

"Really, Dr. Stafford, you must try some of our cuisine. Why I'd give almost anything to taste some of old Melba's hush puppies, turnip greens, creamed corn, fried chicken, catfish, black eyed peas, corn bread and white gravy. You just haven't lived until you've had a plate full of good ole home cookin' Southern style." Melinda finished by looking at her plate as if by sheer will it would transform into the food she was just describing. The rest of the party seemed satisfied by the food in front of them, and showed no interest in turnip greens. Janice was actually wondering what on earth they could be.

"My dear Ms. Pappas, I've actually been to the South. Mississippi in fact. I had to go and stay in this town, they called it a city, but still...Biloxi, I believe. They wanted to find the original site of the founder's landing. I was only there for two days before going to New Orleans, but they had the best shrimp. Its right on the Gulf of Mexico, and some of the restaurants catch their seafood fresh daily before dinner. It was marvelous. I could live without the hush puppies, but everything else was great. Especially in New Orleans. Now, that's a town that knows cuisine." Paul smiled kindly in Melinda's direction before returning his attention to his tray.

As Julie began her dissertation on her favorite meal, Janice studied her companions as she ate. The five of them were the top rungs of the dig's hierarchy, and commanded a table the undergrads and grad students working the dig had nicknamed the "Round Table" in reference to the sharing that went on there. Janice was not a control freak. She asked questions of her teammates and expected questions to be asked of her. In her mind, it was a group effort. Her tiff with Melinda over the discovery of the Scrolls was due to her distrust of the Southerner, and her disgust with what she thought was a spoiled, rich, naive woman-child trying to live off of her father's accomplishments. Xena's appearance straightened that out, but Janice still was not comfortable around Mel, and had only talked with her when necessary. She had only recently begun to warm up to the Southerner. More than warm up to her, if she would admit that to herself, which she wouldn't.

Straight across from Janice sat Paul. Dr. Paul Stafford was with the university funding the dig. He had actually arrived the day after Melinda. His mission, which he had chosen to ignore, was to spy on Janice. He chose to ignore it for two reasons. They were old friends from their days as undergrads and he had kept in touch with her enough after school to know that she did not share her father's moral views on the value of antiquities. He was a nice enough guy, intelligent, funny, compactly built with blond hair and blue eyes that twinkled with mischief. Paul and Janice had gotten into a lot of trouble with pranks their senior year when the dreaded senioritis hit them both with a vengeance.

To her left sat Julie "Curly" Waitreford. She was nicknamed Curly in adolescence because of the unruly blonde curls that she insisted on wearing long. Julie was the camp's secretary and generally Janice's right hand. Her father had been one of Harry Covington's most trusted staffers, and her mother was the camp nurse. After Janice's own mother deserted them, Mama Waitreford took charge of a young Janice and her baby sister Amanda. Add to the mix of Julie, Janice and Amanda, Julie's younger brother Robert, who was the same age as Janice, the four of them raised hell on the digs. It was kind of fitting that the four paired off. Janice and Julie still worked together continuing their parents' work and Amanda and Robert were married just before Harry was killed in a cave-in.

"So Janice, what do you think?" Roger asked interrupting her train of thought. Roger had also been one of her father's closest friends and staffers. Both Roger and Niles Waitreford were the only ones who stayed with him until the end.

"I'm sorry Roger, I was thinking about something else. What do you want me to agree to?" Janice asked turning to face him.

"Poker. Just poker. It must have been some heavy thinking if you didn't hear the plans for your favorite weekend activity." He teased.

"Well, I'd have to say that poker isn't my favorite weekend activity," The group chuckled at Janice's innuendo, all except for Melinda who blushed faintly as was befitting a proper Southern woman. Janice cleared her throat after seeing that. "Yeah, sure, I'll play. Same as always? Here about 8 o'clock?"

The rest of the group nodded. Julie excused herself after making a comment about pretending to take a bath in her tent. Paul left a moment or two later heading in the same direction Janice noted. Roger got up to refill his coffee mug, leaving Janice where she didn't want to be. Alone with Melinda Pappas.

"So, Dr. Covington, have y’all ever been to the South?" Melinda asked, obviously trying to make conversation.

"Yeah. I flew through Dallas on my way to Mexico once or twice. Does that count?"

"My dear Doctor," Mel laughed. "We in the deep South don't consider Texas as being all that Southern. Its more Western with the Mexican influence and all." She stated gently.

"Sorry, I guess my US geography isn't what it should be." Janice looked down at her cup and silently begged Roger to hurry back. She wasn't good at small talk, and the beautiful Southerner made her nervous in a way no one else ever had.

"That's ok. I'll forgive ya for it. Its really an easy mistake to make because only Southerners bisect themselves further than the rest of the county." Melinda on the other hand was a master at small talk. It was a Southern art form that had prompted Mark Twain to scorn their favorite topic, the weather, by saying something like "everyone complains about it but no one does anything about it." Melinda never could remember the exact quote, but it was a favorite one of her daddy's.

"So what are you two ladies discussing?" Roger asked as he sat down. Janice hid a sigh of relief and was about to excuse herself for more coffee when Roger placed the pot on the table. He filled Janice's glass and reached over to refill Mel's but the Southerner just shook her head, declining his offer.

"Geography." Janice replied to his question as she reached for the sugar and proceeded to empty at least three tea spoons of the white powder into her coffee.

Roger looked to Melinda for an explanation, but the tall Southern belle just shrugged.

"Well, if ya'll will excuse me, I think I'm gonna go back to my tent and rest awhile. Evenin' Dr. Grant. Dr. Covington." Melinda rose, gathered up her personal belongings, and exited to her left.

Roger watched her leave and then contemplated his companion in silence. Janice just drank her coffee. Finally the silence became unbearable for the older man.

"Janice, honey, why do you avoid Melinda?" He asked as he turned his chair to face hers.

"I don't avoid her Uncle Roger. I just don't know how to talk to her outside of the Scrolls." Roger smiled at the term of endearment. He had adopted Janice as soon as he hired on with her father a little less than twenty years ago. Janice was only five at the time. It had amused her father and scandalized her mother. They did make an interesting sight, a little strawberry blonde imp with a nice base tan as was only befitting the child of an archeologist, and a six foot five black man chasing one another through the camp. For awhile, Roger would have sworn that he was only hired as a babysitter. He didn't mind, and he taught Janice a lot about life. After Ms. Covington disappeared a year later, the confirmed bachelor took it upon himself to assist Harry and the Waitrefords with the two kids she left behind. He made his vow to continue looking after his stubborn adopted niece at Harry's grave side.

"Just talk. She won't bite you."

"I know, but I'm not good at making small talk, and...well...I don't know." Janice continued to stare into her mug as if it held the answers she was looking for. She refused to admit her fear of falling for her.

"Little one," Janice smiled at the endearment and lifted her eyes to meet his. "You know we raised you best as we could..." He started unsure of how to continue. Janice saved him the trouble by interrupting him.

"I have never once, and I mean NEVER, regretted the way I was raised or by whom." Janice made sure to keep eye contact with her uncle. "You helped raise Amanda too, and she turned out fine. Even if she did marry Robert."

"Now Janice..."

"I'm just kidding. Robert's a nice guy and will keep her happy and safe. I'm just glad its her and not me he wanted. I can't see myself doing the whole marriage with children thing." Janice chuckled at the image. So did Roger.

"No, although I can see you happy with someone, but you'll never know if you don't open up to others." Roger dropped his eyes to his cup. "I will tell you that if I was younger, I'd spend a lot more time with Ms. Pappas. She's quite smart and very lovely" Janice almost inhaled her coffee.

"What, I mean..." She sputtered frantically looking for a way to turn this away from where she thought it might be leading. "Are you trying to tell me that you have the hots for our translator?"

"I didn't say that. And no, I don't. I just thought that maybe she'd make a good friend. That was all I meant." He covered a grin by refilling his coffee mug. "Why? Did you think I meant something different?" He asked innocently. She had never told her father about her preference for women. He had never asked, and as far as she knew neither her father nor any of his contemporaries knew. She was wrong. Harry Covington had never asked because he hadn't had to, neither did Roger. They knew it, accepted it, and got over it. It was just one more thing that ran in the family. "She'd make a great partner."

"How did you know?" Janice asked looking at him with a mixture of confusion and fear. "I mean other than the clothes, which is mostly because of the heat and for comfort and stuff like local customs..." Janice realized she was babbling. A nervous habit that also ran in her family. "Did Dad know?"

"Yes your father knew. No, it did not disappoint him. No I do not think less of you." He answered the questions her eyes asked. "Little one, as for how we knew, we raised you. We just knew." He answered vaguely. Roger Grant was not a coward by any means, but he felt this conversation would be more appropriate at a later date. Janice seemed to agree and let the matter drop.

"I, ah, I think I'm going back to my tent and get ready for the poker game," She said standing up and pushing her chair back underneath the table. "Be ready to lose a lot tonight, old man. I feel a winning streak coming on." Janice grinned and left him alone at the table.

Roger sighed and finished off his coffee before he too left the table and headed back to his tent.

***

Melinda Pappas sat on the bed in her tent contemplating the changes her life had gone through in a year. God, has it only been a year? She asked herself, taking a sheet of paper and using it for a fan. I really need to start dressing in something more appropriate for the climate. Mother would never make it here. No wonder Daddy never took her along. The paper fan helped a little, but not much. Mel let her thoughts return to her recent past.

Not long after her daddy died the year before, a week and a half after the funeral as a matter of fact, her mother and grandmother began planning her wedding. It didn't matter to them that Jason was stationed on a ship somewhere in the south seas, as soon as he got leave to come home, they wanted to have the wedding. They also disregarded the fact that Melinda didn't want to get married to Jason. Matter of fact, she didn't want a husband at all. When she first told her mother and grandmother that, they chalked it up to nervousness. She was only 18 at the time, so they decided to wait. She quit dating and began studying whatever her father would let her. That was how she learned ancient Greek.

A year ago she turned twenty-seven, and they wouldn't take no for an answer. She had been "dating" Jason for four years and her mother and grandmother felt it time to take the relationship down the aisle. Her father had gone to bat for her every time the subject came up, so had her older brother who was already married with children of his own. After Mel Pappas died, his daughter lost her edge. The matrons ignored Thomas, and to a certain extent Melinda, and set about making plans for the wedding. A week before Mel had hopped a flight to Greece, Jason's ship was sunk off the coast of an undisclosed island. There had been no survivors. The telegram had come four days after the event. Mel had allowed herself two days of mourning for an old friend, then packed and headed out.

She had actually found the telegram Janice had sent asking for Melvin Pappas's assistance shortly after her father died. He had left all of his books and papers to her instead of her mother. Upon reading the telegram and the note he had left with it, she understood why. It wasn't until Jason's death that she was able to find the strength to defy her mother and grandmother by taking her father's advice to flee the household.

What was it the letter said? Mel asked herself. She had it with her, but didn't feel like looking for it at the moment. She knew it by heart and could hear her father's voice so clearly it was as if he were reading it to her. The only way, you'll ever really be happy, my dear child, is to get out of this house as soon as you can. Greece is a good place as any to start. I know the young lady - Mel smiled at that. Janice couldn't really be called a lady, but her daddy always tried to see the best in others - who is running the dig. I dare say the two of you will get along admirably. She will at least help you to answer some of the internal questions you have about yourself and about life.

Now, here she was in a rough camp somewhere in Macedonia. She couldn't pronounce the name of the local village. “How come I can read ancient Greek, but I can't speak the modern version well enough to ask where the restroom is?” She pondered that for a moment before turning her thoughts to Janice Covington and why her father had advised her to find the young archeologist.

That woman is impossible She thought. Although, she has been getting better. And then wondered why she so badly wanted to befriend a woman that didn't seem to need more friends than she already had. And she wondered why her father insisted that she find Janice. What questions about life? She asked herself. Giving that train of thought up as being too philosophical, Melinda turned her mind to solving the problem of getting through Janice's emotional and mental walls.

Melinda Pappas didn't stop to think about why she was staging expanding her relationship with Janice into a full blown friendship as a battle. She just went a head and prepared a strategy, rehearsed it, worked the kinks out of it, got dressed, and headed out for the poker game. She was determined to at least befriend a certain gruff doctor of Archeology. Though her thoughts concerning the dig's director were not all that friendly or sisterly. Melinda didn't understand that either, but she was willing to make the first step toward finding out what her father had meant.

Melinda did know that drawing battle plans ran in her family; however, she had no way of knowing that none of her ancestors ever needed to attempt what she was going to. She also had no way of knowing that roughly two thousand years earlier, a petite strawberry blonde had set in roughly the same area plotting almost the same thing. The exception was that the Bard wanted in, not the Warrior. Never the Warrior, until now.

Neither Janice nor Mel realized that the Universe, in all its vastness has a twisted sense of humor, and when coerced by the Fates, cajolled by Time, and pleaded with by certain spirits and a forgotten god or two now residing in what has become known as heaven, it releases its power with irony in full force. As punishment for crimes neither woman committed that happened before their country of origin was even thought to exist, both Mel and Janice were forced to take on roles defined by their ancestors. The twist that made the Universe quiver with glee, and the Fates to laugh coffee through their collective noses was that the current players were not cast to play the original roles as defined by the first actors on the stage of life. The Bard had become the Warrior, and the Warrior a gentile Southern belle. Even the originals, resting on their halos in the Fields laughed and placed bets on the outcome with their friends. Neither Janice nor Mel would have appreciated the joke.

***

Janice Covington jumped out of bed. She stood in the center of her tent for a moment or two to let her thoughts catch up to her reflexes. The foremost question on her mind was why she was getting up. The answer was slow to appear, but when it did, it galvanized her into action. She had a reputation to protect, and she was not going to sully that rep by missing a poker game.

She ransacked her trunk to find a different shirt, preferably a clean one. Upon finding one and changing quickly, she grabbed her pile of coins saved for just this occasion, threw on her hat and ran to the mess tent. Janice slowed a few feet away from the entrance to compose herself before joining her friends and colleagues inside.

Paul, Julie, Roger, and (surprise, surprise) Melinda Pappas were already seated around the Round Table when Janice joined them. She took the seat nearest Mel, which had been conveniently left open. Janice peered around suspecting a conspiracy, but her friends just smiled innocently at her. That gave her curiosity a mighty tug, but she decided to play along.

"Ok, hotshot," Paul said to get Janice's attention. "I'm feeling lucky tonight. Think I might make back that money I still owe you from college." He reached around behind his chair and produced a bucket filled with water. "But first, I have a surprise for everyone. Close your eyes." He commanded setting the bucket on the table.

"Paul if I get soaked, I'm gonna kill you." Julie warned. Janice and Roger echoed the sentiment. Only Mel was close enough to see what the bucket contained and was not impressed.

"No one is going to get wet. At least not yet, so close those eyes up real tight." They complied and Paul set before each of them one bottle of German beer. Needless to say, Janice, Roger and Julie were very impressed.

"Now, then, I could only get six, and it cost me...well, lets not worry about that. Lets just enjoy the beer, game and friendship." He stated sitting back down.

Roger produced a pack of playing cards as Janice, Paul and Julie opened their beers. Melinda just looked at hers.

Well, I guess if I wanna fit in, this is one way. When in Rome and all that She thought as she struggled to open the bottle before her. Paul took pity on her and opened it with a bottle opener that had been sitting on the table.

"Ok, the rules are as follows," Roger said while shuffling the deck. "Maximum bet is twenty-five cents US or the local equivalent, dealer changes after three hands, the dealer is also in charge of calling the game, and if you get caught cheating..." He took a deep breath before continuing, "Then you obviously need more practice and deserved to get caught." The rest of the group laughed as he began dealing out the cards. "Five card draw."

"Well, I'll tell you one thing," Janice said after a long pull on her bottle. "Those Germans may be twisted sons of bacchae, but they do make great beer."

"Gee, Janice, don't you know," Julie asked as she assembled the cards before her in some type of order, "that beer is what Germans do best?"

Those at the table laughed, save for Melinda who tried to turn her grimace into a smile. She detested beer, and generally tried to avoid it. I guess its an acquired taste She thought as she took a smaller sip. Although she did have to admit that this one was better than the beer her brother drank. She soon found herself with another type of problem. She had no earthly idea what to do with the cards in front of her. Bridge she could play, poker was not one of her skills.

The rest of the group anted up and Roger prompted Mel to do the same. Mel noticed that the others were discarding cards and wondered if she should. She held a two of clubs, five of hearts, ten of diamonds, ace of spades and jack of clubs in her hand, staring at them as if they were Arabic. Taking a gamble, she placed the numbered cards face down on the table as she had seen Janice do, and waited. Soon Roger handed her three new cards before turning his attention to Paul.

Gingerly, they placed bets. Each one trying to feel the others out without looking like that was what they hoped to accomplish. Melinda kept an eye on Janice and mimicked her movements, except she refused to raise the bet any. After all, she really didn't understand what she held, and didn't want to be out that much change.

Finally, it was time to show hands, as the betting had begun to wear itself out. Paul and Julie showed only a pair each, one of threes and the other of eights. Roger turned his cards over with disgust. He really didn't have anything good to show, while Janice sat hers down with a smile.

"Three of a kind. Sorry fellas. Looks like this one is mine." She placed three nines on the table and reached for the pile of change. Roger stopped her hand.

"Wait a minute there little one, there's still one more hand to check. Melinda?" All eyes turned to the Southerner. Mel just shrugged and laid her cards down on the table face up. Janice let out a sigh of relief after seeing the pair of aces, jack, five and four.

"Yep, this one is all mine." She wiped the pile from the center of the table and proceeded to mix it with her own. Janice grinned the whole time. Mel shrugged again and handed her cards to Roger so they could be reshuffled.

The next two hands saw Paul winning one and Melinda winning the other. Dealership was then transferred to Janice as Julie went to the kitchen to fetch more beer. This time it was Greek and voted inferior to the German beer by all present. However, it was wet and it was beer so the grumbling didn't last too long.

The group talked as they played and drank. Mostly it was rehashing memories of digs gone by or voicing their hopes for the current site, even the occasional political discussion was started. Although that one was usually finished shortly before it could really begin.

Roger made the next beer run after Janice relinquished control of the deck to Mel. Mel was at a loss as to what to do. She didn't think that the others would be interested in bridge, so she did the only thing she could think of (with a little help from two beers): she dealt them all in a game of go fish. Julie and Roger were ecstatic with the choice as it was a break from the norm, however, Paul and Janice considered themselves avid poker players and grumbled at the choice.

Three hands later, Paul took control over the deck. Janice cheered, mainly because she lost all three hands of go fish, and volunteered for the next beer run. While she was gone, Mel took the opportunity to talk. She had been quite for most of the evening, nervous in Janice's company.

"I'm sorry for that game before, but I've never really played poker before tonight," She looked down at her hands while apologizing. Julie reached across the table and laid her hand on Mel's arm in a gesture meant to convey reassurance.

"Don't worry Mel, it was fun. Don't let Janice fool you. She's just upset that she lost." Julie told her with Paul and Roger nodding in agreement.

"I guess you're right, but I just...oh, never mind...its foolish and this is supposed to be fun. I guess the beer is just getting to me." Mel wanted to talk to someone and thought that Julie would listen, but she didn't want to do so in front of the others. Especially when she didn't know when Janice would return.

"Melinda," Julie tightened her grip on the Southerner's arm and looked her in the eye. Mel saw compassion and understanding there. "I know. Its tough, but its worth it." Julie would have said more, but she looked up in time to see Janice balancing five bottles of beer in her arms. Melinda didn't.

"What's worth it?" She asked before being clued in to the Archeologist's presence behind her.

"Yeah, what are you talking about. What's worth what?" Janice asked setting the beer on the table and laughing as it was snatched from in front of her.

"You are, you scamp. You're worth a pot of gold and the heart ache you give someone who tries to find it." Julie said unscrewing the top of her beer. Her eyes twinkled as Janice did something she rarely did. She blushed. "Seriously, I was just assuring Mel that all the effort we put into unearthing a dig is more than worth it."

Janice relaxed and sat down. Melinda hid a sigh of relief. She was not, by any means, a dumb woman, after all, intelligence ran in her family as well. She more than picked up on the hints that Julie had dropped, the innuendo placed out in the open, and the support of a willing ally.

By the time the evening was over, Janice had made good on her boast. She had won most of the remaining hands of poker and ended up with a good portion of the overall pot. With one annoying exception: Melinda had won the last bottle of German beer two hands before when Paul bet it in lieu of money. The poor guy had a horrible run of bad luck, and was forced to watch the remaining two hands as a spectator. They had adamantly refused to let him cash in more money. No one played with anything but the change they had collected between games. That was why they only played once a month. It kept them from getting into real trouble by losing part or all of their pay.

The last game had come down to Julie and Janice. Melinda had lost all but the beer and retired for the evening after the second to last hand. Roger pulled out early on while he still had some change left, and watched the two women go against each other. Julie had two pair, kings and fours, but Janice had three of a kind. To her chagrin, they were sixes. Roger and Paul teased her unmercifully about receiving the "unholy" hand.

After a few minutes of conversation while cleaning up and finishing what was left of their beers, the group dispersed. Janice was actually the last one to leave and smiled when she realized that Paul and Julie had walked back to his tent. She knew that they would probably see the night end and the sunrise together. A small part of her envied them, but the logical self denying part of her reminded her that she had too much to do to get involved with anyone.

As she walked back to her tent, she contemplated the choices she had made in her life. Satisfied with the outcome she dressed for bed. It wasn't until she reached up to turn out the light that she noticed the single bottle of beer on her desk. Getting up and examining it, she realized that it was the same bottle that Melinda had won an hour earlier. Janice placed the bottle in her desk drawer for safe keeping and went to sleep with a small smile on her face.

***

Days off were always done on a Saturday, and were done on a rotating schedule that had one fourth of the staff off at one time. Holidays were the only exception. Janice had adopted that from her father. It made sure that someone was always on hand in case of an emergency, and it kept the staff happy. Sundays were the one day everyone had off thanks to local law. The diggers had the entire weekend free. It kept them happy.

As a result of the relaxed schedule on Saturdays, it was generally a day to do inventory, clean the recent finds, catch up on paper work and do something other than manual labor for a change. Everyone, whether it was their turn to have a free day or not looked forward to Saturdays. Janice was no exception.

She had the chance to participate in her favorite weekend activity for as long as she wanted. Sleep. She slept long and hard on the weekends, making up for the long days and short nights the week before. When she finally did put in an appearance in the mess tent for breakfast (the only thing that could awaken her from solid slumber was food) only Melinda was there.

"Morning. Where's everyone else?" Janice asked as she sat her tray on the table and took her seat across from Mel. She was usually the last one to arrive for breakfast, which was served at a later hour on weekends, and the lack of Roger made her a little nervous. She figured Julie and Paul were worn out and still sleeping.

The tall Southerner had just finished her breakfast when Janice sat down. She hadn't been able to sleep very well the night before. Her sleep was plagued with weird dreams that she kept trying to remember over breakfast. She failed.

"Melinda?" Janice attempted to get Mel's attention, as the Southerner had yet to acknowledge her presence.

"What?" Startled blue eyes looked up into bemused green as Mel came back to earth. "Oh, I'm sorry Dr. Covington. What did you say?"

"I just asked where everyone else is." Janice was both puzzled and intrigued by the evidence of Melinda's wavering attention. The Southerner was usually on top of things as a rule.

"Oh, Dr. Grant was here earlier, but he left to go direct some grad students in proper record keepin'. Apparently they weren't doin' that great a job, and I haven't seen Dr. Stafford or Julie. Do ya think somethin' bad happened to them?" Janice almost lost the mouthful of coffee she was trying to swallow at Mel's innocent question.

"Nah, I'm sure they're fine. Probably just overslept." She assured the Southerner. I'm sure something happened between them, not to them, but I'm not sure if it was something bad or not Janice thought to herself.

While Janice ate her breakfast, Melinda sat at the table drinking her coffee and furtively inspecting her companion. Janice didn't look quite the ruffian she had first appeared to be. The clothes were pretty much the same, and she still smoked cigars, but after Smythe's unfortunate accident, Janice had quit wearing the gun. Mel reasoned that the overall appearance hadn't changed too much, but her perspective had.

When Janice had been packing up the truck to move the Scrolls to a safer site, she had promised Mel that they would see this out together. She had kept her promise, hiring Mel on as the official translator and giving the Southerner a reason to stay in Greece. The hard part for Mel was that her idea of together was obviously not the same as the good doctor's. Janice had meant being colleagues, Mel had hoped for friends at the very least. It was that hope that kept her in the camp despite the homesickness and heat. She felt drawn to the young Archeologist like no one else she had ever met before.

"Melinda? Earth to Mel. Miss Pappas are you in there?" Janice was standing above Mel looking down on her and waving her hand in front of her eyes. Mel looked up to see a faint sheen of pink tinge the doctor's face as she stepped back and allowed the Southerner some room. Gods, she really has no idea how attractive she is Mel thought. Her eyes followed Janice as the shorter woman reclaimed her seat.

"Melinda, are you all right?" Janice asked, feeling much better with some space between them. Standing by Mel's chair and looking down at her had allowed Janice the opportunity to see down the sundress that Mel was wearing. Janice brought her hand up to wipe away any drool that may have made an appearance at the sight. She should register those breast as lethal. Anyone would surrender just to see them up close.

Melinda looked down at her lap and then back up at Janice. "Yes, I'm fine. I've just had a lot on my mind. That's all." Yeah, like how to catch you and what to do with you once I've got you The Southerner felt herself flush at the thoughts that were running through her head.

Janice did something then that Mel would have never guessed her capable of. She asked if she could help with the problem.

Yeah, I just don't know how to tell you that. Mel thought. Aloud she said, "That's mighty nice of you to offer Dr. Covington, but this is somethin' I need to work on. Somethin' personal."

Janice, thinking that it was jealousy over Paul and Julie's relationship, let the matter drop. Which was good for all involved, because at that moment the two entered the tent.

"See, Melinda, I told you they just over slept," Janice changed the subject (sort of, at least she thought so) and pointed out the couple to Mel.

"That's good. I'm happy for them. You know, that nothin' bad happened to them." The tall, self possessed Southerner began to ramble. "I think I'm gonna go work on the translations a bit more. I'll drop the preliminary notes off by your tent this evening. Is that ok?" She asked standing to her feet. Janice just nodded at the uncharacteristic ramblings the older woman evidenced. Mel nodded back and blindly rushed out of the tent.

"What did you do to her?" Julie asked as she sat down her plate.

"Nothing. At least I don't think I did." Janice replied before standing up. "I think I'm going to go review the new plans and get started on some overdue paper work. Enjoy your breakfast." She smiled and nodded to both Julie and Paul who had just arrived at the table.

"Do I smell bad or something?" Paul asked sniffing his shirt.

"No, why?" Julie asked with a slight grin.

"Then why did they both leave when we came in? I know you don't smell bad."

"Thanks. I think our dear friend and our translator are just experiencing a small case of UST." Julie informed him.

"UST?" Paul looked blank at the term.

"Yep, Unresolved Sexual Tension. Don't worry, I'll have a chat with Janice about it this afternoon."

"As long as you don't resolve it for her." He warned her. "Unless I'm invited." He added waving his eyebrows up and down in an imitation of the movies.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm just going to talk to her." Julie assured him.

"Shucks"

Seconds later, the kitchen staff was complaining of water stains on their table clothes. Which is amusing because the tables weren't covered, but they were relatively new to the English language, so it could be excused.

Paul had forgotten to put up the bucket of water from last night. Because of his comment, Julie deemed a lukewarm water dowsing as fitting. Moments after that, she was running full speed through the encampment with a very wet Dr. Stafford hot on her heels.

***

"Janice, can you spare a minute?" Julie asked as she walked into the records tent. Other staffers and various students were engaged in either cleaning vases or catching up on their field reports. Janice was hunched over a list of the recent finds from the site. It wasn't a long list. This site hadn't been that productive.

"Damn it! I know there's something here." The Archeologist began pacing, heedless of the others present in the tent. Julie had long since grown used to this habit and just let Janice rant.

"There has to be something here. Maybe on the South ridge." She continued on in that vein for several minutes, all the while pacing back and forth in front of the table. Finally she stopped and noticed Julie standing patiently in the corner.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Paul decided it would be funny to drop me in the stream outside." Julie told her. She looked, to Janice and the rest of the tent's occupants, like a dirty, half drowned rat. Her blonde curls hung loosely around her face and down her back, and she was covered in clay. She looked pitiful. Those not too awe struck by the normally composed woman's appearance found it hard to contain their laughter.

"So, was it?" Janice asked trying to casually hide her mouth behind the report she had been reading.

"Was what, what?" Julie asked shaking her head. That did nothing to improve the situation.

"Was it funny?" Janice managed to get the question out before laughing. Julie looked down at herself and started laughing as well.

"Seriously, Jan, can I talk to you for a minute or two?" The blonde asked. "In private?" She added after Janice had nodded and indicated for her to go ahead with the conversation.

"Yea, I guess so. We can go to my tent if you want." Janice answered as she led the way outside the records tent.

The trip to Janice's tent was quite. Both women were absorbed in their own thoughts, and neither felt like making idle conversation. Janice thought she had a good idea of what Julie wanted to discuss, the relationship between the camp secretary and Dr. Stafford was beginning to heat up. The Archeologist assumed that they would be discussing Paul.

Julie was pondering how to broach the topic she had intended to advise Janice on. That of UST. It was obvious to Julie, Paul (well, maybe not Paul) and Roger that both Melinda and Janice were suffering from it. Though whether it was over each other remained to be seen. They could both just be incredibly horny. She also could have been misreading the signals, but she doubted it. Something deep inside her was telling her that this time, it was different.

They ended up seated in Janice's tent with one of them on the bed, and the other at the desk. They set in silence for a few moments while each one thought of and discarded possible ways to begin the conversation. Janice leaned back on her bed and took the initiative.

"So, Julie, what's going on?"

"Uh, well, I really don't know how to start this..." She trailed off and lit a cigarette to hid her awkwardness with the topic. Janice sighed and lit a cigar.

"Julie?" Janice tried to get her friend's attention after moments passed with no other sounds in the tent other than the exhaling of smoke.

"Sorry, Jan, I guess I wondered off there for a moment. We've known one another for how long now?" The blonde asked.

"Longer than I can remember." Janice answered getting annoyed with the beating around the bush. "Look, Curly, I think I know what this is about."

"You do?" Julie raised her eyebrows in question. She thought this would take the petite Archeologist by surprise. "What do you know?"

"Its kinda obvious. You and Paul have hit it off extremely well." Julie made as if to interrupt, but Janice kept on going. "I love you both dearly, and if you're worried I might be jealous or anything, don't be. I'm happy for you both. Honestly I am. Just don't try to make me wear a dress to the wedding." She chuckled.

"I wouldn't dream of it, but Janice, about Mel..."

"Melinda Pappas may be jealous a little, but I wouldn't worry too much about it. She hasn't known Paul all that long. I'm sure she'll get over it." Janice got out of bed and motioned to the front of the tent. "Now, let's get back to work. Shall we?" She extended an arm to Julie.

"But Janice, what about you?"

"What about me?" The Archeologist was confused by the turn in conversation.

"I mean, you can't do all this alone." Julie took her hand and stared her friend in the eye. "Honey, I'm worried about you. Solitaire is not a good game to play all the time."

"Thanks for the concern, Curly, but really, I'm fine. Happy even." The shorter woman shrugged. "Besides, I'm not alone. I do have friends you know. You are even one of them." Julie smiled sadly. She knew Janice was right, but she still felt she had to try.

"I know, but Janice..."

"Its fine. I'm fine. Let's leave it at that ok? Now let's get out of here before Paul thinks I've seduced you." Janice smiled as she deftly avoided the topic and started toward the tent opening.

"Well, he does have good reason to think that. You are a charmer when you want to be, Janice Covington." Julie laughed and headed out behind her friend.

"Thanks, but I wouldn't even try it a second time. Although it did work once."

"Yeah, but Janice we were only children. You were what, 16 and I was 18?" They both smiled at the memory of their long ago tryst. It was after the death of Julie's mother. Their combined tears had led to one night of misery turned to fumbling passion. It had only happened that once, and neither one of them regretted the act, denied it, nor tried to continue it. Even though Julie sometimes wondered if it would be better now that Janice had more practice. The closest they had came to it was after Harry Covington's death. Julie could now say that Janice was one hell of a kisser, but that was all.

"I think so. You were right. We're much better as friends. Paul's a lucky guy, and you're a lucky girl." Janice picked up her pace a bit before adding one last comment. "He's pretty good too you know. For a guy." At that she took off running. Julie was right behind her.

Janice made it all the way to the stream before Julie tackled her. Soon both women looked like dirty, half drowned rats. Their screams of mock outrage and laughter could be heard echoing through out the dig site.

***

Melinda, like most of the others in the camp had heard the screams as Julie and Janice ended up in the stream. She had gone to investigate, but soon realized her assistance was not needed. So she watched the two old friends frolic a bit before returning to her tent.

She hated to admit it to herself, but she was jealous. Not of Julie really. She was well aware that the two half drowned rats were nothing more than friends, but she envied that friendship. She had began to realize that she wanted that type of bond with Janice, and it depressed her that someone else had been there before her.

It wasn't until she tried to get back to work that she realized she was jealous of Janice and Julie's relationship for more than Janice. She never had that feeling of freedom both women seemed to take for granted. They laughed, drank beer, played poker, did whatever they felt like they wanted to. I bet they bed whoever they want whenever they want, the Southerner thought a little ruefully causing herself to blush. Her experience with sex was limited to maybe three nights of fumbling with Jason. She still didn't understand the attraction so many had for physical acts of passion.

Her mother and grandmother had kept her under strict control while she was growing up. She wasn't allowed to do anything that failed to meet their approval. Melinda Pappas had a lonely childhood as a result. Obviously, they didn't. She thought about the Archeologist and the Secretary. Bet they caused all sorts of trouble. Yes, Melinda was envious of their freedom both past and present. The same way she was envious of her brother, for the same reason.

Visions of Janice as a child soared through the Southerner's mind. Her imagination compared her's with Janice's in various situations. Placing them both in Melinda's memories, she saw Janice defy the Southern Matrons, and herself cower in front of them. The edges of the visions were blurred, as if someone else were showing her these things, or trying to stop her from seeing them. Abruptly they stopped.

You aren't under anyone's control now, you know.' A voice said into Melinda's mind. You have gained your freedom. Let go of the past and embrace the present. You'll never live until you do.'

Melinda jerked out of her bed wondering just when she had fallen asleep. My goodness, what did that dream mean? With each second the dream faded back from her awareness, but the voice stayed. That voice, it was so like Janice, only softer somehow. Gentle.

Melinda put her head in her hands and sat that way for a long few minutes. Finally she decided the heat was getting to her mental state, and resolved to dress more for the climate again. No matter what her upbringing had imprinted on her.

With that in mind, she collected the notes she had made on one of the Scrolls, and went to go find Dr. Janice Covington.

***

Janice had just changed out of her now filthy clothes and was reaching for a cleaner undershirt when someone cleared their throat in front of her tent.

Damn tents. No doors to knock on. She looked down at the pile of clothes at her feet and grimaced. Julie, it was fun, but now I've really got to do laundry. Maybe I can send a few of the grad students into the village Monday to have it done.

"Come in," Janice yelled to the silhouette outside her tent as she put on the white cotton t-shirt and grabbed for a more decent shirt to wear over it. Melinda walked in just as Janice had located one.

Oh, my. Melinda thought as she walked in on Janice. The Archeologist was wearing a pair of khaki pants that had yet to be buttoned, and a plain white men's undershirt, no sock, boots or anything else. Her strawberry blonde hair had been washed but not dried and was pushed back behind her ears. God, she looks great like that, and so young. The Southerner flushed.

Janice, who had forgotten that Mel wanted to talk to her after the translator had reviewed the Scrolls, just stood there for a moment pondering the look in Mel's eyes. Is that look what I think it is? She asked herself before regaining her senses. She turned around, tucked in the t-shirt into her pants, and fastened them. Nah, it can't be, can it?

"Well, Ms. Pappas, what can I do for you?" She asked turning back around to find Melinda staring at the floor.

"Well, I thought that maybe you wanted to read the notes I've made on the Scroll I've been working on." Melinda shyly looked up at Janice and handed her the notebook. Janice dropped her shirt on the bed and took the notebook from Mel's hands.

"Thanks, here have a seat," Janice cleared the papers off her desk chair and indicated that Mel should sit there. The Archeologist stared at the notes in her hand a minute before looking at Mel. "Sit down, really, I don't bite. At least not too hard." She smiled at Melinda until she realized the joke fell flat.

"Maybe I should just let you read over those. We can discuss them when you're finished." Mel had no idea why she was suddenly shy. Janice had on more clothes than those pictures she had found in her brother's room once a long time ago. She had to admit that the Archeologist looked better than those Frenchwomen in the photos, and she shaved too. That was a big plus. It was just that the tank style shirt accented the younger woman's curves, and Mel had to admit, that she look sexy disheveled. The Southerner blushed again.

"Sure, if that's what you want." Janice told her. She was slightly confused about the Southerner's reaction. Maybe there's something in the Scrolls. "Listen, I'll find you when I'm done looking these over. Does that sound ok?"

Melinda nodded and silently left the tent. It wasn't until Janice sat down on her bed to read that she realized how she had been dressed when the Southerner had entered the tent.

"Now, that was an odd reaction," She said to herself. "You'd think she'd never seen anyone half dressed before." The blonde Archeologist shook her head and started to read the understated yet neat handwriting of the dig's translator.

The story in the most recently translated Scroll turned out to be the story of the Warrior and Bard's first meeting with a god. Morpheus, the ancient god of dreams. It was obviously written sometime after the actual event had occurred. Although how much time had passed was not certain.

"This was probably written after Gabrielle decided to become a Bard," Janice muttered aloud.

The Scroll was written from an uninterested third party point of view, but the language used suggested that Gabrielle was the author. She rarely made mention of herself, but Janice felt a grudging respect grow for her ancestor. According to the Scroll, the Bard (who referred to herself as either Xena's young companion, which made Janice raise an eyebrow at the implied relationship, or as the would be bride of the Dreamworker) had managed to keep herself alive and her blood innocence intact long enough to be rescued. It sounded like it was quite a feat, and the young woman had accomplished it very well. Janice was impressed.

Janice rested the notebook on her knee and thought about the tale. She wondered if Gabrielle had really been that humble or if she had written that Scroll before she had been associated with Xena for a long period of time. It’s a shame we know so little about her. Janice thought. After all, Boswell, the man who recorded Ben Johnson's life had his own biography. Homer had his, sort of. At least, he can be proven to have existed outside of spirit saying so She wasn't sure if her colleagues at the university would accept Xena's word of her friend's existence as fact since Xena was roughly 2,000 years dead.

All in all, Janice thought it was a good story and a believable one for her colleagues. The god in question never appeared, and it read like a ancient cult acting out a ritual. The supernatural overtones of the dreamscape would be over looked as creative metaphor by those that either refused to believe or had not been trapped in a tomb with Ares. Ares had turned Janice into a believer of the so called supernatural real fast.

The young Archeologist had first begun searching for the Scrolls to prove her father right. That had been a little over two years ago. She had just gotten her doctorate and was on a dig in Mexico when word of her father's death had reached her. She had made a promise at his grave side in Cairo that she would continue his work and realize his dreams for him. It took her three months to find a replacement for herself at the Mexican dig, and to arrange for university funding to take over her father's dig in southern Macedonia, with herself as the director of course. She tried to keep everything above suspicion, for she was, like her long dead ancestor, an honest, honorable person with a very persuasive will. The university had agreed and Janice stepped into her new position.

It wasn't until they had stumbled onto Ares's tomb that Janice had begun to wonder about the identity of the Scrolls' author. It wasn't until Xena possessed Mel that Janice saw Gabrielle as something more than a tag along. She had seen it in the Warrior's eyes (Mel's eyes as...never mind) as she told the story of Gabrielle. Xena had obviously respected and cared for her friend. To Janice that translated as the Bard was worthy of admiration. From all she knew about Xena, the Warrior didn't suffer fools (except for Joxer) and had very little patience (even with Joxer).

The conversation with Xena had made Janice curious about Gabrielle. Two years after assuming her father's work, Dr. Janice Covington had turned the search for the Scrolls into her own. Oh, she'd admit that she was half in love with Xena, which was why Melinda made her so uncomfortable, but now the search was to know her family, to know her history, to learn about her so-far-removed-I'm-not-sure-you-can-call-her-that grandmother.

"Its about time," A low voice sounded in her ear. "You finally figured part of it out. Congratulations, I won the bet. The next part is easier if you'll let it be." The voice was soft and melodic with a slight accent to it that sounded Australian for some reason.

Janice jumped out of bed and looked around her empty tent. "Some dream," She mumbled as she picked up the notebook from its current resting place on the floor. She tried not to think about the dream, which involved the Warrior, Mel, the Bard and herself. She sat back down on the bed for a moment before making up her mind to go find the Southerner.

"Maybe Mel can shed more light on Gabrielle," Janice told herself. She was aware of the perfectionist side of the Southerner. Mel would translate a rough copy of a Scroll, refine it, proof it, set it aside and work on another before going back to the previous one for a final proofreading. It was a slow process, but Janice felt it was worth it. She hadn't found any errors that first time when she had checked the translation to the original. Not that she would, Mel was infinitely better as a translator than Janice was. So, the Archeologist reasoned that Mel would have rough translations for at least two or three different Scrolls.

With that in mind, Janice grabbed her hat, lit a cigar, and headed out to find Melinda. She made it five feet outside her tent before rushing back inside, pulling on the other shirt she had abandoned hours previous, and then resumed her quest.

The distant thunder sounded suspiciously like laughter. It was the Universe enjoying its game.

***

After leaving the Archeologist's tent, Melinda decided she needed to talk to someone about her confusing thoughts and feelings. She had to admit to herself that she was attracted to Janice, but had no idea what, if anything, she should do about it.

She remembered Julie's comments from the night before and thought that she would be a good person to talk to. Mel had always thought women were easier to discuss matters of the heart with, she had found only two exceptions: she had always felt as if she could tell her father anything, and never trusted her mother. That lesson had been learned the hard way.

With the thought of a willing ally in mind, the Southerner began her search for the camp secretary.

***

Julie had been sitting outside under a piece of canvas trading laughs with Paul when she looked up and noticed Melinda walk by. The tall Southerner looked so sad and distraught that Julie pointed her out to her companion then whistled for her attention. Melinda turned, noticed the couple and shyly walked over to join them.

"Well, well, Ms. Pappas, what's the long face for?" Paul asked as Melinda gingerly took a seat on the ground.

"I'm just tired, I guess." She told him. Julie was not convinced that the Southerner was just tired and searched her brain for a way to get Paul to leave without being obvious.

"Why don't we play some more poker this evening?" the blonde woman suggested. She knew Paul loved poker and would volunteer to set up the game.

"That sounds good, but what are we going to bet? I'm all out of change." They pondered that in silence for a minute before Paul had a brainstorm. "How Ôbout we use matches and stuff like that. I'm sure I can get Roger to help me locate some stuff." He stood up and dusted his pants off, excited about the suggestion.

"That sounds like a good idea. Maybe Melinda and I can go to my tent and see what we can find there. How Ôbout you tell Janice to meet us in an hour?" Julie stood up and extended an arm down to Melinda and helped the Southerner stand. They both dusted themselves off and straightened their clothes.

"That sounds like a plan. See ya there." With that, he jogged back to the camp and Melinda followed Julie to the secretary's tent.

They walked in an uneasy silence, but once in side the tent's entrance, Julie motioned for Melinda to sit on the bed, as she took a seat on her trunk.

"Wanna talk about it?" The blonde asked quietly.

"I'm not sure if I can. I'm just so confused about everything."

"You're attracted to Janice aren't you?" Julie was nothing if not blunt. Melinda nodded and stared at the floor. "Is this the first time you've been attracted to a woman?" She thought that was what caused the taller woman's discomfort. Finding a difference like that, especially in someone with Mel's upbringing, was often tough for someone to face within themselves.

"It's..." Melinda brushed a tear off her cheek. "The first time I've ever really been attracted to anyone." She told Julie in a subdued voice.

"So, you've never been with a woman, sexually?" At Melinda's shake of negativity, Julie continued. "Have you ever been with a man?" Melinda nodded again, still looking at the floor. "Were you attracted to him?" God, getting this woman to open up is tougher than getting Janice too. At least Jan will spill everything once prodded long enough. She thought to herself.

"I was sorta engaged to be married before his ship went down." Melinda took a deep breath before continuing. "My mother was going to make us get married. I had been datin' him for about four years, just to keep them quite. He was a friend, and I loved him, but I was never in love with him. Never attracted to him, never enjoyed it." She was crying openly now, so Julie got up and held her.

"When my daddy died, he told me to come here and meet Janice, but I never really knew why until now. I think I'm falling in love with her, and I don't know what to do about. I don't know what to do." Julie just held her until the tears had run themselves dry and Melinda was ready to listen to reason.

"Well, that's a tough one. Lucky for you, Janice is...," She stopped to find a way to put it delicately, "She does appreciate the female form. She's more than worth any effort. I think you need to decide what you want. If you want her, you'll have to catch her. She won't chase you."

"Why not?" The Southerner asked as she unwound herself from Julie's embrace. She had been worried that Janice would be upset or offended. Or worse, not interested in her. That would hurt.

"She respects you." Came the reassuring response. "Janice won't try anything with someone she respects, unless they give her a clear signal to go ahead."

"Did you...are you...have you..."

"Yes," Julie cut her off "Once, a long time ago. And almost again two years ago, but we're better as friends. Janice... we..." She sighed. "I wish that...sometimes I wish it could be different, but I'm just not that way. Paul's more my type."

"Why not two years ago? What happened?" Melinda was curious despite herself.

"She passed out." A rueful chuckle accompanied that statement. "It was right after her daddy died, well, right after the memorial in Cairo. We went out and got completely drunk. I held her as she cried, and one thing started to lead to another. I did learn that she has become one hell of a kisser, even intoxicated." Melinda blushed and wiped the tear stains from her face.

"Um, don't you think maybe we should go join the others?" Julie asked standing up and heading out the tent.

"Julie," Melinda came up behind her and reached for her arm. "Thank you for that. I really needed someone to..." The camp secretary cut her off by giving her a hug. The startled Mel returned it.

"It was my pleasure," The blonde told her. "Now, go get cleaned up. I'll meet you in the main tent."

The two women parted ways. Neither one saw Janice Covington standing behind them.

***

Janice had fruitless searched the area around Mel's tent and the records tent before running into Paul. He had just returned from putting all the matches and rocks he had collected into little piles on the Round Table.

"Hey, there, boss. What do you say we play some poker tonight. We're gonna bet with something other than money." The blond man was enthusiastic about the planned game.

"Sure, Paul, that sounds great. Have you seen Mel anywhere?" Janice would not admit that she was concerned, but she was.

"Yeah, she went off with Julie. I think they wanted to be alone for a few minutes." Paul didn't see the curious look that crossed his friend's face. "Listen we're supposed to meet in about ten minutes. See ya there?"

"Yeah, sure. Say Paul, when was it you last saw those two?"

"Um, about an hour ago why?"

"I was just looking for Mel. Had a question about one of the Scrolls. That's all." She turned in the direction of her childhood friend's tent and called back over her shoulder that she would see him at the game.

The walk to Julie's tent was a short one, and when she got there, she saw Julie stride out of the tent looking slightly rumpled. Melinda followed her a moment later. It was obvious to Janice that Mel had been crying. As she watched the two women hug and listened to their conversation, she became confused.

That didn't really sound the way I took it? Did it? The Archeologist thought as she headed toward her tent. She thought best while she moved. Nah, Melinda probably cried out her homesickness on Julie's shoulder. That's all.

Janice was surprised by a sudden feeling of jealousy over that thought. And it had nothing to do with her childhood friend. That really surprised her. She ducked back inside her tent to think about it.

"Ok, I know I'm attracted to Mel, I mean really, who wouldn't be? But jealous over her crying on Julie's shoulder? Why? I mean, I like her..." Janice was pacing around her tent as she muttered her thoughts aloud. She didn't hear Roger enter. She didn't see him until she walked into him. "I know I like her...oomph."

"You need to pay a little more attention, little one. Are you alright?" The big man asked, rubbing his chest where Janice had collided with it.

"Yeah, I think so," She answered rubbing her nose. "What are you wearing under that? Armor?"

"Nah, chain mail. Its easier to conceal. You're about to miss the poker game. We're all waiting for you." He advised her.

"Go ahead and start. I'll be there in a minute. I hafta make sure you didn't kill my nose." She shooed him out.

"I'm sure its fine. See ya there," He chucked and turned to leave. "Oh, yeah, Janice? I'm glad you figured it out." He left before she could reply.

"Figured what out? That I like Mel, or that his chest is as hard as his head?" That got her started on another circuit. "I like her and I'm attracted to her. What am I going to do about it? Guess I could find out how she feels. Or I could just go for broke and let her know. What would Gabrielle do?" She wondered as she followed the trail from her tent to the poker game.

Little did she know, that the situation between her and Melinda was still causing the Universe to chuckle. Had she known, then she would have understood why the thunder she kept hearing never got any closer. Janice would also have benefited from asking what Xena would have done, ok, on second thought, no she would not have. The Bard had plotted the capture of the Warrior's heart. Janice was right to ask what her ancestor would have done.

In the Fields, the Bard got pinched for laughing at that. Everyone else got a glare. Warriors are a touchy lot. Even long dead ones.

***

When Janice entered the tent she noticed that everyone was in the same position they were in the night before. She again took a seat next to Melinda. This time, she was a little nervous. She had decided to approach the Southerner after the game to test the waters. She wanted to see where she stood before anything else.

The game was already in full swing, so she just sat back and waited for the hand to be played out. Sitting in front of her was a pile of rocks, a pile of matches, and a pile of chipped pottery. She pondered the pottery for a moment before she recognized it. It was what was left of the vases Smythe's men had broken when they attacked Mel three months ago. She had forgotten that an industrious undergrad had put all the broken pieces in a box. He wanted to see if he could put them back together. Janice had told him that he had a severe obsession with Humpty Dumpty.

"Um, Janice?" Mel felt she was taking a risk by calling the Archeologist by her first name. She was encouraged when Janice turned greenish blue eyes her way and didn't protest. "Can you tell me what I should do here?"

Janice looked around and saw no protest before she nodded and scooted her chair closer to Mel's.

"Let's see what you have." Janice leaned closer to peer at the cards and almost closed her eyes as her pupil's perfume hit her. It was a light fragrance, kinda like fresh roses and vanilla. For some reason, she had been expecting jasmine and leather with the faint sent of horse. It was disconcerting.

Turning her attention back to the task at hand, She noticed that Mel had the most elusive of all hands. A Royal flush in hearts. Not wanting her companions at the table to hear, she leaned even closer to whisper in Melinda's ear. Of course being that close to the translator was a secondary reason. Well, maybe it was the other way around.

"You should hold what you have there. Its an unbeatable hand. Keep a straight face and bet whatever they ask you to." She advised. It took a minute for Mel to understand what she had said. Janice's close proximity was a little distracting, as was the warm breath that tickled her ear.

"Have you ever had one of these?" She whispered back. Causing Janice to entertain several lewd thoughts about the translator. She just shook her head and backed off to a more respectable distance.

The others took their cards and looked at Mel in suspicion when she declined to draw any others. They understood why five minutes later when she won the pot and Janice patted her on the back. The Archeologist had a smile on her face, and Mel returned it when she looked up. For a minute, neither woman could speak. Roger broke the moment when he handed the cards to Janice and explained what each pile represented monetarily.

She looked around and saw understanding smiles on her friends' faces. Well, not Paul's he was a little oblivious about the whole thing.

"What do you say? Seven card stud?" She began dealing before they could answer.

The evening went along almost like the previous one. They drank coffee instead of beer, none of them were really big drinkers. They only indulged on occasion, and the monthly poker game was one of the few occasions they agreed warranted it. Paul still didn't win that much, but Melinda did. Between her and Roger, the others lost their rocks. Nobody complained, not even Janice. They just wanted another evening of fun and companionship. It was hard to find anything else to do in west of nowhere.

Once again, Melinda left before the last hand. The rest voted Roger the clean up man since he won, and since the only things to put up were the cards and substitution betting chips. They all put away their own coffee mugs. Most were taken back to the tents for the evening.

Janice went to Mel's tent after she had lit a cigar for courage. It gave her something to occupy her hands with. She used a cigar as a tool of distraction.

To her surprise, the Southerner was not in her tent. Janice, losing courage, went back to her own.

She had just gotten into bed and fallen asleep when she had a nightmare. According to her watch, only half an hour had passed since she left the poker game. She was filled with an undeniable urge to find Melinda. The urge was so strong that Janice only slipped on a pair of pants, her boots, and threw her jacket on over her t-shirt before she was outside her tent.

Some compulsion led her to the eastern part of the dig. It was an area as yet untouched by the diggers, and looked unpromising. Janice saw her quarry sitting on a little rise staring at the moon.

***

After leaving the poker game, Mel decided to walk around the camp a little. She needed to work things out in her head, and thought the peace and quiet of the dig site would help. She sat down on a little rise overlooking the eastern part of the dig and stared at the stars.

Wonder if they ever saw them like this? If they ever had time to just stop and stare at the stars? She wondered about the ancient Warrior and Bard. Nothing she had read about in the Scrolls so far had said much about their private lives. So far most of them had been about the first year of their acquaintance, and they really didn't even seem to be friends. Just companions without the company.

Kinda like me and Janice. I guess they grew closer over time. Bet we can too, we have so far. She assured herself, after all, things had been warming up between them over the past few days. Maybe when we find more Scrolls, we'll learn more about their lives outside Xena's heroic deeds. Melinda shared Janice's view that there were more Scrolls out there to be found. They just had to know where to look. She believed that the Warrior and the Bard had several years together, and that the Bard had written more than just the nineteen Scrolls they had found. Well, twenty one if you count the two that went with Jack. Three of those not counted in the nineteen were continuations of other Scrolls, and two more contained two stories each, those like the Marcus one were short and distant. That made for a total of 23 stories, twenty one of which they had, and ten of which she had fully translated. Who knew what she would find in the others.

Melinda was so deep in thought over the Scrolls, having cowarded out and not given much consideration to the reason she was on the ridge, that she didn't hear Janice approach.

"Nice night, mind if I join you?" She asked as she extinguished her cigar under her heel. It gave her something to do while she waited on Mel's answer.

"Sure, I mean no, um..please, have a seat." Seeing Dr. Janice Covington standing in the moonlight with only a t-shirt under her jacket and shyly staring at the ground, gave Melinda the answer she was looking for. Yes, she wanted the woman before her, she loved her, she was attracted to her, and she would fight for it.

"Thanks," Janice sat down beside the Southerner. She felt the change in the air flow around them and realized that the thunder she had been hearing all day was gone. The Universe was holding its breath.

"So, what are doing out here?" Melinda asked politely. Her heart was beating so hard that she would have sworn the Turkish forces could hear it.

"I came out to find you." It was said quietly, so quietly that Melinda almost didn't hear it, but then super hearing ran in her family.

"Did you have a question about the Scrolls?" She wanted a negative answer. She really wanted a negative answer.

"No, I just wanted to talk to you. Is that ok?" Now Janice was nervous.

"Yeah, that's fine. Great. Its nice. What do you want to talk about?" Babbling didn't run in Melinda's family, but she was certainly doing that.

"Are you, uh, happy here, Mel?" The Archeologist asked her. Please say yes, please.

"I guess so. I'm not unhappy" At least not now.

"But are you happy?" Janice stressed. Seeing Melinda's shrug she continued. "What would make you happy?"

"You." It was a whisper. Janice barely heard it, and could have ignored it if she wanted to. She really didn't want to.

"I was hoping you would say something like that." The Archeologist felt the wind stir around them as the Universe sighed. "I've begun to like you a great deal. I don't want you to go anywhere like back home. Unless you want to, I mean."

"No. I like it right here. I'm not going to leave you Janice." Melinda promised. "We go together." It was a test. She wanted to see if Janice meant the same thing she did by together.

"Together." Janice reaffirmed. The Archeologist paused for a moment and then leaned over and kissed a startled Mel. "Was that alright? You're not going to flip or anything are you?"

"I'm fine. I don't think could do a flip if I tried." Mel quipped. This time she leaned in, Janice met her half way. They took their time, Janice kept all contact light. She didn't want to frighten Mel by going too fast.

"We have all the time in the world, right?" She asked. Mel, being a little short of breath, nodded. "Then let's take it slow and easy. Together." She promised again.

"Together." Melinda echoed. "Julie was right."

"How so?" Janice was confused by the sudden change in conversation.

"You are one great kisser." Melinda had the distinct thrill of seeing Janice blush for a change.

Janice stood up and brought Mel along with her. "Why don't we go shopping on Monday. We can take off and go to one of the larger villages. And I can get my laundry done."

"That sounds good." Mel stood up to her full height, and then took advantage of it by leaning down and kissing Janice. "Maybe we should go back and go to bed." She blushed again at Janice's upraised eyebrow. It had taken centuries before anyone in her family could do it, and Janice, although she didn't know that, wasn't going to let the skill go to waste.

"I know, separate tents. Separate beds. Shared dreams." Janice took Mel's hand and led her back to the camp.

Together. They both thought.

In the Fields, certain spirits were giving one another high fives, while two were claiming their rewards from each other. The Universe sighed again. The Fates warned it against sighing. That's how comets collide. It replied that this time, two hearts did. Two souls were rejoined. Together.

end

[branlovestowrite]

Complicating Factors: Chapter 3

This is my work in progress fic, which I have only been posting on fanfiction.net.  After 12 chapters, my muse has fizzled out. I hope by revising & reposting this, I can get inspired again. Your comments and suggestions (chill vibes only!) are welcome and encouraged!

Complicating Factors

Rating: M for language and smut in later chapters

Summary: Emma Swan is a single mother trying to contact her ex and father of her child, Neal Cassidy. While she expected some awkwardness when meeting Neal’s mother, Milah Gold, she never expected the undeniable attraction she feels toward Milah’s younger boyfriend, Killian Jones. No Magic, Modern AU. Captain Swan.

Previous Chapters: Ch1 Ch2

Also on fanfiction.net.

The rest of the weekend was uneventful, and Emma started the new week feeling good. On Monday she started the work of transitioning to her new role, taking on a few of the lower risk cases. These were not as lucrative as the case with Jack, but they were quick, and she was able to complete a few in one day, providing her with a take home pay on Monday of around $250. Not too shabby, and much better than the pay she was getting as an admin. She had not made progress on hiring her replacement, and Tuesday morning she committed to doing that. She was just settling at the desk when her cell phone rang. It was Milah. Emma hoped she had some news on the Neal front.

"Hello," Emma said as she answered the phone.

"Emma, it's Milah. How are you?"

"Not too bad. How about you?"

"The day is still young, but it's looking good. I was calling to see if you'd be available to have lunch with me today?"

"I think I can do that, but let me get back to you in about an hour. I need to do some interviews today."

"Ok, well if today doesn't work, let me know about tomorrow or Thursday. My mornings are slow during the week."

"Will do. I'll call you back shortly."

Emma hung up. Her time with Milah on Saturday had greatly improved her opinion of Neal's mother. Milah was charmed by Henry and seemed to truly want to be a part of his life. Emma prided herself on being able to read people, and saw no hints of Milah being anything other than what she appeared to be to be. In addition to the woman's obvious affection for Henry, Emma found she really liked Milah. She was a warm and open person. She felt now that the possessive behavior over Killian at their first meeting must have been more of a physical manifestation of Milah's insecurities than any enmity towards Emma. She wanted to get to know this woman better, and was looking forward to a one-on-one lunch with her.

She went through the few résumés they'd received since posting the admin job on Friday. Most had no experience, which was not necessarily a bad thing. Two looked promising, and Emma called them to do a phone screen. She was able to get one to come in around 11:00 for a interview. Confident she could be done with that by noon, she called Milah back and scheduled lunch for 12:30 at a sandwich shop nearby.

The 11:00 interview, with a young woman named Ashley, went well. Ashley didn't have much work experience beyond working as hotel maid, but she was pleasant and organized. She saw the files stacked on Emma's desk and offered to help sort them before the interview even began. Emma wouldn't let her do unpaid work, but Ashley gave her a few ideas of how to organize the files that would make the process go faster. Emma liked Ashley, and after a brief meeting with Leroy, they offered her the job. She happily accepted, though she did say she would need a few days to get her childcare situation in order. Leroy was amenable and they agreed she would start the following Monday.

Emma was in a good mood as she walked to meet Milah for their lunch date. They placed their orders and then sat down at a table near the back, where it was quieter.

"Did your interview go well?" Milah asked.

"Yes. We hired her, so now I have a replacement."

"Now, tell me again what you do. I have a vague idea of what a bail bonds person does, but it's more from TV shows where an unusually large man jumps over fences to chase down offenders.

Emma laughed. "My life isn't quite so glamorous. My company helps people who have been arrested and don't have the money to afford bail. If they don't show up for their court dates, we have to pay the entire amount of their bail to the courts. So, my new job is the make sure they show up for court."

"Do a lot of people skip their court appointments?"

"Not as many as you'd think. But enough that my boss, Leroy, keeps five bond agents in rotation. Most of them are small time cases. Not as dangerous as what you see in the movies."

"And how do you get paid?"

"They pay us 10% of the bond."

"Fascinating. How did you get into this work?"

"Well, it's a long story." Emma took a deep breath. She couldn't tell Milah how she got into the bond industry without telling her what came before. "Since you haven't spoken to Neal in so long, you probably don't know that he was dealing drugs."

"Neal was a drug dealer? No, that's news to me. It's really hard for me to picture him doing that. When was this?"

"About seven years ago. I met him when I was 17. I had no idea he was dealing while we were together."

"And how long was that?"

"Two years. He disappeared a few months after my 19th birthday. The cops came to search our apartment and found cocaine in my suitcase. I was arrested. They tried to get more information from me about the supplier, but I didn't know anything. They gave me two years."

"That seems a bit much if you didn't know anything."

"Gotta love those mandatory minimum sentences. I've never even done cocaine. The worst I did was pot, but even that wasn't very often. Anyway, I found out I was pregnant with Henry while I was in jail."

Milah looked crushed. "You served two years and had your son in jail because my son set you up?"

"It looks that way. I haven't heard from him since, so I don't know if he meant to set me up, or if he just forgot he'd used my suitcase to stash his supply. Anyway, when I got out, I had a hard time finding work. I met Leroy, and he took a chance on me and made me his admin. I've been his admin for the last two years. Just got promoted on Friday."

"You are certainly inspiring, rebuilding your life the way you have. Did Henry stay with your family while you were in jail?"

"No. I don't have much family. He was placed with a foster mother, Regina Mills. She was actually really great. She helped me get back on my feet once I got out. We still see her a lot."

Milah grabbed Emma's hand across the table. "I know I shouldn't apologize for what Neal did, but I am very sorry that you went through all that."

"Thank you. I don't like to focus on the past. I just keep trying to move forward and give my son better than I had." Emma let out a deep breath, keeping her emotions in check. "So, how about you? I told you my story about Neal. Why haven't you seen him in so long?"

It was Milah's turn to sigh. "I told you about Robert last time and how cruel he was. I'm sure you've guessed that Killian was the man I had an affair with."

"Yes, I thought that might be the case."

"What I didn't tell you was that Neal and Killian were friends. That how we met."

"Whoa..." Emma said, sitting back in the booth.

"Neal was a sophomore at Storybrooke, and Killian was a first year grad student. He was a teaching aide for Neal's history class, and they hit it off. Neal brought Killian home at Thanksgiving. Said he wanted to show him our English Thanksgiving."

"Neal told me about that. How you guys had traditional English dishes instead of turkey."

"Yes, well, Robert and I never celebrated Thanksgiving, but Neal begged us to do it when he was little. All his schoolmates talked about their own celebrations, so we decided to put our own spin on it."

"And Neal thought Killian would enjoy it since he's British as well?"

"He's actually Irish, but he spent a lot of time in school in England, so he's lost most of his brogue. But, yes, Neal thought Killian might like it. I felt an attraction to Killian the moment I met him, but I knew it was wrong. I tried to avoid it."

The parallels to her current situation did not escape Emma. "What happened?"

"After Thanksgiving, he was always around. He and Neal spent quite a bit of time together. I thought it would be good for Neal. He was never a very serious student. I hoped Killian would be a good influence. Killy was such a sweet boy. He lost his mother when he was very young, and I thought maybe he was looking to me to fill that role. I was alright with that. But one day, he came by when Neal wasn't home. Robert and I just had a fight, and he wasn't home either. I knew it was a bad idea, but I invited Killian in and we had dinner together. That was the first time he kissed me. I was horrified at first. Tried to avoid him and pretend it never happened, but the next time I saw him, all that attraction came back in full force. He told me that he never saw me as a mother figure. Said he loved me and wanted to be with me. I resisted for a long time, but by the summer we were seeing each other regularly. The truth eventually came out. Neal was failing, and when he found out about my affair, he decided to quit school. He ran away and cut off contact with Robert and I. Robert divorced me, and I took the paltry settlement he gave me to start my shop and purchase the flat above it."

"And you've been with Killian ever since?"

"On and off. We've had our spats. The longest we were apart was six months. I never dated anyone else, though. I truly do love him, even when he's being a complete arse. But I don't know why he's convinced I'm the only one for him."

"Why not?"

"We want different things. He wants a family. He swears he does not, but I see the looks on his face when we are at the store and a cute child walks by. Or how much fun he had with Henry. He wants a child of his own some day, and that won't be with me. I am content with my life. The only thing I want is to reconcile with Neal."

"If he's told you he doesn't want a child, why not just take him at face value? Maybe he's not lying."

"It's not just that. We fight. A lot. I hate how insecure I feel around him. And I know that Neal would not be happy if he came back to find me still with Killian."

"Neal doesn't get a say in this," Emma said. "He's a grown man and he doesn't need to be happy with your life decisions. Only you do."

"And what if I'm not?"

"Not what? Not happy? Then do something. Find out what's making you unhappy and change it."

"I wish I could be as assertive as you. I don't think I've ever done one thing in my life that wasn't tied to a man in some way. My father kept me under his thumb until I escaped to be with Robert, and then Robert changed and I jumped ship to be with Killian."

"You started your shop. That wasn't because of a man."

Milah's face lit up. "You're right. I did that for me. I love vintage clothes. The quality is unmatched by many of the things made today."

"Find other things like that. Things you like to do just for you."

"I wouldn't even know where to begin. Have you ever let a man control your life?"

"Just once. With Neal. Well, I guess Henry does, but that's different. I learned a long time ago that I couldn't rely on anyone more than myself. The only one who saves me is me."

"How did you meet Neal?"

Emma flushed. "I was stealing a car that he'd already stolen. I'd just turned 17 and was running away from the foster system. I'd only had one driving lesson, from a fellow foster kid who first showed me how to break into the car and jump start it. I took those skills, packed up my stuff, and bolted. I took the car, thinking it was an old one the driver probably didn't need anymore. I scouted it for about a week, and it never moved. But I didn't realize that Neal was living in it."

Milah's eyes grew watery at the thought of her son living in a car. She blinked a few times and sniffled. "You said you were 17 at the time? That would have made Neal...23. Is that right?"

"Yep. He was the first person who actually seemed to want me around. I latched onto that."

"I can't imagine him taking a young girl in and then abandoning her later. I thought I raised him better than that," Milah huffed. "I want to find him and grab him by the ear and make him explain himself."

"I'm guessing you've had no luck getting hold of Robert?"

"No. I tried visiting his office yesterday, but he slammed the door when he saw me coming. He threatened to call campus security and have me arrested for harassment. Still such a bloody coward."

"So maybe I should go see him."

"I can't ask you to deal with him. This is my problem."

"Yes, but he doesn't know me. He has no reason to hide from me."

"Good point. Well, if you want to go by, his office is in the Spencer building, room 204."

"Thanks. I think I will do that. What's the best time to go?"

"His office hours haven't changed since he started the job. On Wednesdays, he's available from 9-11."

"Tomorrow morning it is. I'll let you know how it goes."

"Good luck." Milah said with a smile.

Killian was trudging up the stairs to his apartment when he felt his phone vibrate to alert him of a text message. It was from Milah.

Last minute appointment. Be home late.

He typed a quick reply. Dinner?

I'll eat before. Fend for yourself. :-)

He pocketed his phone and pulled out his keys to unlock the door. He had some grading to do and thesis proposal to review, so there was plenty to occupy him that evening. After setting his things down, he walked to the kitchen and saw nothing appetizing, so he decided to order Thai food. After calling and placing his order, he sat at his desk and began working.

He was lost in a research paper about the Golden Age of Piracy when the doorbell rang. It seemed a bit too soon for the delivery to be arriving. He opened the door and was immediately pulled out of the apartment by a pair of burly arms.

"Liam?! What the blazes... Let go of me!" He pushed his brother off.

"Now now," Liam boomed in his commanding voice. "Is that any way to greet your brother?"

"You're lucky I don't give you a black eye when you greet me by putting me in a headlock."

"Comes with the territory, little brother."

"Younger brother," Killian corrected, rubbing a sore spot on his neck. "Come on you stubborn arse. Let's get inside."

They walked into the small apartment, Liam toward the couch, and Killian to the fridge. Two beers in hand, Killian joined his brother in the living area and settled on the couch. The clinked their bottles together in a toast and each took a hearty sip.

"So," Killian began, "what brings you to Boston?"

"Investigating new opportunities. My company is looking into switch carriers for some of our Trans-Atlantic freight."

Liam worked in logistics for some sort of manufacturing company. That was all Killian knew about his brother's livelihood. It seemed to pay well, however, and he was constantly travelling between his home in London and the US, though often to New York instead of Boston.

"Well, I wish you would have told me you were coming. How long are you in town for?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise! I fly back in next Friday, but I have to spend most of next week in New York. I thought I could take some time off and pester my younger brother for a few days in Boston."

"I can't cancel my classes. The administration is watching me like a hawk. I think Gold told them I was just handing out grades."

"You'd think after ten years he'd be over you shagging his wife right under his nose."

Killian gave Liam a pained look. "It wasn't like that. You know."

"I know nothing other than you jumped on her like an eager puppy and wore her down until she couldn't avoid you."

The younger Jones brother began scratching behind his ear, his old nervous tick. "You're not being fair, Liam. You know I love Milah."

"Aye, that I do." Liam clenched his teeth, and Killian knew he was holding himself back from voicing the remainder of his thoughts. Killian had heard it all before. You two are both lovely people, but you don't belong together. You're just so afraid to be alone that you cling to each other and block yourselves off from the chance to be really happy. This was a constant refrain in Killian's thoughts, fed somewhat from Liam's comments on prior occasions, and also from his own insecurities. He knew there was something missing with Milah, but he was terrified of the thought of ever leaving her.

"Speaking of," Liam said, "Where is your better half?"

"I don't know. She texted me and said she had a last minute appointment."

"She didn't say what it was?"

"I didn't bother to ask. I have some grading to do, and I ordered Thai food, so I was looking forward to a productive evening."

"Well, put off your grading and stash the Thai for your lunch tomorrow. I'm taking you out to dinner."

"OK. Let me put on something other than my professor uniform." Killian stood up and went to his room to change. As he stood in the room in nothing but his boxers, he heard the doorbell ring.

"Oi! Liam! That'll be my food. Cash for the tip is on the kitchen counter." He finished dressing in jeans and a soft t-shirt. He walked out to the living area, the rich aroma of the food making his mouth water.

"I may need to have a little nibble. I am starving." Stepping around the counter, he saw the cash he had set aside still sitting on the counter. He spun around on Liam. "You didn't give him the tip?"

"You Americans and your bloody tipping. Why isn't it just included in the price?"

"You git! They'll never deliver here again if I short change the drivers. Or if they do, they'll spit in my food."

"You really have become an American. You didn't even correct me when I called you that. And you're more concerned with making sure this crazy system stays in place."

Killian paused. "I'm not an American, I'm a Permanent Resident. And that place has the best Thai food for miles, and now, thanks to you, I can't ever have them deliver again."

Liam laughed. "Come on, Killy. Get your shoes on. I'll find us a better Thai food place for dinner."

Wednesday morning found Emma driving around the campus of Storybrooke University trying to find a parking spot. Was parking such a mess at every school? She suddenly found herself grateful that she'd never had the college experience, if only because she had no idea how she would deal with a parking situation like this every day. Finally finding a spot, nearly on the opposite side of campus from where she wanted to be, she stepped out of her car and shivered at the chilly air of the early spring morning. She hugged her jacket tighter to herself and started the long walk to the Spencer building.

After getting turned around more than once, and with the help of some students, she stood in front of the Spencer building. It was a clean, sleek, modern building. Obviously one of the newer ones on campus. Idly she wondered if the building Killian worked in was as nice. She opened the glass doors and followed the signs to the elevator. Just as the doors started to close, she heard a cry in the hallway.

"Wait! Please, hold the door!"

Emma swiftly moved to block the doors from closing and pressed the button to hold them. A petite woman with brown hair rushed through, holding a box overflowing with books.

"Thanks," she said.

"No problem," Emma replied. She turned to stare at the doors for their short ride to the second floor. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Emma found that she and the young woman were going in the same direction. She approached the door to Robert Gold's office and saw that it was closed. The woman saw her pause.

"Are you looking for Professor Gold? He'll be back in a moment. He told me he was going to grab a coffee."

"I am, thank you."

After she deposited her books in what appeared to be a small library, she turned and extended her hand. "I'm Belle. I work with Professor Gold." She gave Emma a warm smile, and her striking blue eyes sparkled with cheer.

"Emma Swan."

"Are you here to talk about pursuing a law degree?"

"Oh, no. This is a more personal matter." She felt uncomfortable revealing too much about herself to a relative stranger. To change the subject, she said "Do you teach as well?"

"No. I'm actually the assistant librarian for the school, but I am helping maintain the legal library until they can hire someone to take over."

"So, just a temporary role?"

"Well, it was supposed to be, but that was a year ago. There's always an issue with getting funding in the budget for the replacement, so I just keep helping out. I'm lucky we have enough student workers to help fill the gaps in the library."

"Why not get a student worker to come over here?"

"Oh, well, he wouldn't like that. He's very particular with how things are organized."

"He?"

"Professor Gold."

"I wasn't aware he was head of the department."

"I'm not," said a voice behind her. Emma turned to see an older man with dark grey hair and a ruddy complexion. He was dressed impeccably in a tailored, pinstripe suit and leaning on an ornate cane. His brown eyes had a cold look, but Emma recognized them as the same eyes that her son Henry possessed. The same eyes Neal possessed.

"Mr. Gold..." she began.

"Professor Gold, if you please. May I ask who you are and why you are making questions about my staffing choices?"

"Robert, please, she was just making conversation," Belle interjected. Emma did not miss the fact that Belle was not required to address him formally.

"And who is she?"

Emma steeled herself and stepped forward, extending her hand. "I'm Emma Swan. I need to talk to you about your son, Neal."

He did not take her hand. "What could you possibly have to do with my son?" He sneered.

Her patience quickly wore thin."Recently, not much, but five years ago he abandoned me, pregnant and serving time for his criminal activity. My son wants to meet his father, and since Neal has disappeared off the face of the Earth, I need you to help me find him."

Gold was speechless. His eyes changed from their previous disdainful cast and took on a faraway look. "Neal had a son?"

"No, I had a son. And if it were up to me, Neal wouldn't have anything to do with him. But that's not fair to Henry. So, how do I get in contact with Neal?"

The faraway look was gone. He stared at Emma again with that cold gaze. "How do I know the boy is even Neal's?"

"Because he has your eyes," Emma said. She whipped out the wallet-sized picture of Henry she had stashed in her jacket pocket that morning and handed it to Gold.

He looked down at the picture with watery eyes, but the emotion almost immediately receded. His eyes raised up to meet Emma's. "I don't have a number for Neal, but I have a way to contact him. I will reach out and let you know once I hear back. How should I contact you? I assume you no longer reside in jail?"

She scoffed and handed him her business card. "My cell phone number is on there." She snatched the picture back from Gold. "If I don't hear from you, I'll be back. Don't think about trying to hide from me."

"You should watch your tone, dearie."

"Let's get one thing straight. I am not afraid of you. Try to intimidate me all you want. It. Won't. Work. I am here for one reason, and that is to give my son a chance to meet his father."

"I never do anything without a price."

"Robert," Belle interjected. Emma hadn't realized she was still there. "This boy is your grandson. Stop being hostile and help her out."

The effect was incredible. One moment Gold was an angry imp ready to destroy Emma, but a word from Belle and he turned to mush. There was definitely something more between them than just a work relationship. Gold released a heavy breath. He turned back to Emma."Very well, I will contact Neal. If I don't hear from him in a week, I will call and let you know.

"Thank you," Emma said, turning to take her leave.

"Wait, Miss Swan. Might I keep the photo? I'd like the share it with Neal."

Emma hesitated. She didn't like the idea of this man having a picture of Henry. But it may make Neal more likely to come out of the woodwork. She reluctantly handed him the print.

"Pleasure doing business with you. We'll speak soon."

She turned and stalked toward the elevator. Despite the satisfactory outcome of her visit, she couldn't help feeling like she'd just made a deal with the devil.

[spideychelle-romanogers]

Heaven Lost An Angel - Part 1

First series from the Cringe-Worthy Spideychelle AUs Collection

Prompt: Trying to create the cheesiest, most unfortunate Spideychelle story possible.

Michelle Jones is a triple threat pop star that misses her old non-famous life. Peter Parker is an unemployed starving artist who is offered the chance to be her assistant.

Image credit: here Betas: @female-overlord-3  & @smileholland 

This job wasn’t just Peter’s last hope, it was the only way he’d be able to keep his secret.

Peter Parker was struggling. A few months out of grad school, Peter was already out of a job. Three years later, he was doing his best as freelance to keep himself afloat. He’d spent three months now on his best friend Ned’s couch, unable to pay his rent. It wasn’t until this offer came up through Ned’s connection at the Daily Bugle that he ever had any hope of getting back to work.

No one really told him what he was interviewing for. He dressed in a t-shirt and jeans like he would for all of his freelance work. When he stepped into the building, he realized his mistake.  He was brought into the office, noting the high ceiling and even snapping a few photos.

He was finally told the name of the man he would be interviewed by: Happy Hogan. He was interviewing people for work as an assistant, but no one could tell him for whom. He didn’t wait long before a man much taller than him came up and loomed over him in the waiting room.

“You’re a bit young,” was all he said before waving for Peter to follow him. The interview was fast paced and nonsensical. It descended from talk about his work all the way to questions like: “Can you take a hit?”

“What?” Peter asked, incredulous.

“Can you take a hit?” he repeated impatiently.

“....Yes.” No.

“How are your reflexes?”

“Good, I think.” Adjusting his glasses, Peter nervously shifted in his seat, looking around the room for help. There were records hanging around the office, trophies on shelves, this man was clearly proud, if a little bit shameless. It looked so clean, Peter could only imagine he didn’t spend much time here.

“Starting tomorrow, I need you to be able to think fast on your feet,” he warned. Peter grinned. “Don’t get too excited. This is a one-time thing for the tour. I don’t like hiring people without experience but this was very last minute and Mr. Jameson said you’re reliable. What did you major in again?”

“I got my masters in photography,” Peter answered as he distractedly wondered how much begging it took for Ned to convince Jameson to say anything nice. That man had influence, and if there was anything he’d use it for, it’s to tell everyone how useless Peter is at just about everything he does. The only use he had for Jameson was his photos. “He said you’ve been working as his assistant the past three years.”

What did Ned have on Jameson?

“Yes,” Peter lied.

“And before that you were Tony Stark’s intern?” Peter nodded, though that was not as interesting as it sounded. Peter was never even in the same room as Tony Stark. They shook hands and Peter counted his blessings that no one looked too far into this. He was desperate and nothing could stop him from holding this job. “You’ll have to start tonight. We’re on tour all summer and I need someone who can be there every day.”

“I’m ready. Wait- tour?”

“You’ll be assisting MJ,” he noted, as though Peter should already know who that is. Happy stared at him as if he was testing his reaction.

“Oh! That’s great. I’m so honored,” he answered as he stared back, willing himself not to look as confused as he was.

Walking into the concert hall, Peter caught the last song muffled through the floor. The concrete walls of the basement drowned out most of the noise. Everyone was bustling about so quickly, Peter decided to take a few photos as he walked around. The stage hands didn’t seem happy but he avoided them as he made his way past.

For the most part, Peter’s new employer was a mystery. Being so desperate, he wasn’t in a position to ask a lot of questions. The girl’s name was Mary Jane. While he’d never heard of her before, he did a bit of research before coming. After digging for hours, all he could find was information on her and her fiance. There was almost nothing available on her past or her beginnings.

MJ was known for being almost angelic during interviews and very sweet to her fans. She catered mostly to younger audiences, and her music wasn’t really to his taste. He cringed as the first few bars of music played. Then suddenly, he heard her singing and he was charmed. It would be a pleasure to work with someone so talented and humble.

Making his way backstage, Peter held his staff pass out like he was braced for confrontation. He couldn’t relax until Happy found him.

“Dress differently next time,” was all he was met with before being told to follow him. Peter looked down at himself, still wearing the same t-shirt and jeans. He didn’t realize there was a dress code for an assistant but he made an excuse anyway.

“Okay. I didn’t really have time to run home.”

“We’ll go meet her at her dressing room, then I’ll introduce you to the crew. You’ll have to memorize every face and name you meet, so pay attention.” They were about to walk on when Happy noticed Peter camera, hanging from a strap around his neck. “Do you take that everywhere you go?”

“Yes,” Peter said, adjusting his glasses nervously again. “Why?”

Happy sighed out. “Let’s just see how this goes. Shall we?” Peter Parker had never worked as an assistant in his life but he still told himself with full confidence that he’d make things up as he went along.

Stepping off her stage, Michelle would always get this rush for a moment that would make her feel like nothing had ever gone wrong. She got into this business for the fans. She loved the idea of someone looking up to her. There was this rush of happiness she felt whenever she took her final bow. Every night ended in more tasks, more news, more scandals to handle, but that one minute of bliss was all she had to hang onto.

That and the phone calls from her mother.

It had been months since she had been home to see her family. Her fiance Harry visited last night and she begged him to stay. It was desperate, it was pathetic, but then, so was she.

The stress wasn’t just taking over, it won her over. All she could feel was down. She used to have allies in this business but with time everyone showed their weakness. Hollywood is enough to break down everyone’s last reserve of good. Michelle learned that the hard way when she found her assistant flirting with Harry. He resisted this time, to his credit. Maybe this meant he was changing but Michelle didn’t really like to admit to her hope anymore.

After firing her last assistant, Michelle became sure that there was nobody left for her to trust. Her manager was supportive, but he would always put his job before her feelings. Tuning out of her own thoughts, she heard the chanting. The concert had been over five minutes now and they were still chanting her name. Well, they chanted-

Mary Jane.

They took her name from her too. Now she was MJ, but no longer Michelle Jones. Before she could use that thought to drag herself down again, she smiled to herself, knowing it was a show of love. One of the stage assistants handed her phone to her as she adjusted the shoulder of her dress. There were so many texts asking her how she was. The first one was an apology.

“I really am sorry, Michelle,” the text read. It was Harry.

Rushing back to her dressing room, Michelle turned on the television, looking for the entertainment channel. In silence, she waited. They talked about movies, sports, music, the scandals always came towards the end of the episode. The wardrobe team tried to get her out of her outfit but she kicked them all out so she could watch the news alone. It only took a minute for them to cycle the headlines before getting to the news about Harry.

Harry Osborn, billionaire fiance to the up-and-coming superstar Mary Jane was photographed kissing his ex-girlfriend outside of her apartment in Los Angeles.

Maybe she blacked out for a minute. It felt like an hour had passed before she was aware of her surroundings. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this to her, but it was the first since she really believed he had changed. Just before she could start to panic, she glanced down at her phone again to the apology. She missed the sound of someone knocking on the door as she screamed out and threw her phone to the wall.

Her manager stepped in with some kid standing behind him. She was embarrassed anyone caught her in her outburst, but she reacted as though it was his fault for interrupting. Happy looked unamused, but the kid looked downright horrified.

“This your nephew, Happy?” she asked, her tone bored. She hated when the crew would bring family by to meet her. She needed privacy, not more people poking around.

“You should be changed by now,” he noted. For someone so much older than her, he really managed to stay young. His skin was clear for someone with such a high-stress job. Michelle assumed it came with the power of their influence now. She was a household name now, he had everything he wanted out of her.

“I’m busy. Leave,” she huffed, resisting more outbursts for the moment. When the rage subsided, the tears would come. She wanted Happy and the guest out of here so she could have her moment. Looking behind Happy, she saw a short kid with a staff pass and a camera. “I’m not in the mood for pictures right now so you’ll just have to go home.”

“Meet your new assistant,” Happy said gesturing to the boy behind him. He looked so young and a little familiar but she didn’t pay it any mind. He looked unremarkable, in her opinion. Everyone did. “This is Peter Parker.”

“Are you kidding?” Michelle asked, pulling her earrings off and throwing them on her vanity.

“You specifically asked for a man.” Happy didn’t say it but she could hear the insinuation: a man so that Harry can’t flirt with them.

“Yes, a man,” she repeated, not noting she also wanted someone mute so she wouldn’t have to listen to them. The kid hadn’t spoken yet, maybe that favor had been served at least. She took a good look at him. “This isn’t a man, it’s a boy. He looks ten. He looks like a fan.”

“Mary,” her manager warned in a stiff tone. Michelle rolled her eyes and turned to Peter.

“I am very sorry…. Pedro, was it?”

“Peter.”

“Peter, I am very sorry but this isn’t going to work. I’m sure Happy can find you placement with the stage hands.”

“I don’t have time to hire another assistant, Mary, so you either keep him or you get your own coffee.” Michelle scowled at her manager, not knowing why he insisted so heavily on calling her by a name she detested. At the very least, backstage, he could call her Michelle. “Or we can hire Emily again, since it seems Harry can’t be helped regardless.”

Michelle felt that burning inside at how cruel the comment was. Swallowing, she told herself not to remind Happy it was his fault she’d ever met Harry in the first place. “I can give Emily a call,” Happy continued, reaching for his phone. Michelle knew he was bluffing but she could feel her chest closing up. She needed them to leave.

“He stays for the tour. Just for the tour.” Peter looked worried at the idea of being out of a job in a few months. Surely someone would hire him if he survived the summer, right? She had a reputation for being difficult. If he could survive this, he could survive anywhere. Michelle wouldn’t let herself feel responsible for someone else’s livelihood.

Happy left without a word, but Peter was too busy staring at her in fear to realize they were alone. She gave him another look over, at one point lifting the collar of his shirt to feel the material. Polyester, dear God. “If you annoy me once, Pedro, you’re out,” she said, getting his name wrong yet again.  “And for fuck’s sake, ask Happy for an advance and go get yourself some new clothes. I won’t have you embarrassing me.”

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[comeliashawnae]

Sneak Peek

“Finally” I thought to myself. “It’s happening, it’s finally happening. I’m finally getting my dream job.”

I sat nervously in the lobby, waiting. I’ve been waiting for 3 years now, an unpaid internship for 1 year while working part-time at fast food restaurant. 2 years of working 3 different odd jobs and making friends with each boss to build up my resume. I’m finally done waiting.

“Michela Harley” said the secretary

“Yes,” I said standing excitingly

“She’s ready to see you now.” She said with a smile.

I walked past her desk and into the office, and there was my new boss, Ms. Elaine Blaze.

Elaine Blaze is the first and only woman to fully own and operate her very own office building. Not a 200 foot skyscraper, but a five story building in downtown Nashville was still a big deal. Elaine Blaze is a self made millionaire from publishing her own magazines. Four magazines, bridal, fashion, fitness, and nature, and they’re all operated from this very building. A publishing and marketing company with ties all over the country and she’s looking to build internationally, and I am going to be apart of it.

“Michela , so good to see you.” Said Ms. Blaze standing to shake my hand.

“Great to see you.” I said shaking her hand firmly with the biggest smile on my face.

“Well have a sit, lets get to business.” She said pointing to a chair. She pulled out a book from inside her desk. “Now your portfolio is absolutely amazing. Some photos are simple, but I don’t look at simple as safe. I look at it as practical. You have to know the basics, and you do.”

“Thank you” I said still smiling.

“But what I love precisely is this one,” she said turning my portfolio to me. It was a photo of a woman hanging upside from a building, that was a favorite of mines as well. We almost got caught trespassing for that. Well worth it to be sitting in this office right now.

“Just perfect, I love that you’re a risk taker. Exactly what I’m looking for.” She said with a smile. “But, of course, you do know this more then just taking pictures. I’m a seller. I own four magazines and they need to be every store all over the world. I have over 40 journalists. That’s 10 interviews per magazine. They talk to important people that everyone what’s to know about. That’s how we make the big bucks.” She said with a smile.

“But you, my lady, will be my fitness photographer.” She continued. “For that, the real cash is by promoting. We promote the fitness gear, the exercise equipment, the energy drinks, you name it. Yes that also means you will be taking the advertisement photos as well. We have sample products, we market them, and you take the award winning pictures.”

My smile just wouldn’t fade away. How could it? Top designers from all over the country come to be in her magazines. And I’m going to be apart of it!

“The job requires major traveling, hence why I never really target anyone with children. I fully understand that everyone has a life outside of work, but to pull someone away from their children six months out of the year is unfair. Reasons why I specifically target people like you. Young, eager, and hungry.”

“And I am truly grateful” I said.

“As am I for you and the ones before you.” Ms. Blaze said with a sincere smile. “Again six months out of the year is a long time to be away from someone, my last three employees left because they were ready to get married and start families, which they all had a right to do. But to make things easier for those already married or in committed relationships I’ve decided to help with the distance.”

If she’s saying what I think she’s going to say this day just got so much better.

“For the past two years I’ve made an exception. My offer to extends to spouses or boyfriends or girlfriends. Some photo shoots they will be allowed to attend, for you that’ll be more enjoyable since the meetings you’ll attend will last an hour tops.”

“That sounds perfect” I said eagerly.

“I see that you’re very excited,” she said with a smile “That’s a good thing, but still go home, think about it. Talk it over with whoever, get all your affairs in order.”

“My boyfriend and I have talked about traveling for years, getting paid to do it. This is a no brainer.” I said no longer able to hold my enthusiasm.

“Just what I love to hear.” She said standing from behind her desk. “It was pleasure seeing you,” she said reaching out to shake my hand again. “But seriously talk it over and let me know by Friday.”

“Yes ma’am” I said shaking her hand. “I might call you tomorrow.”

I left her office smiling ear to ear. I can’t believe this is happening. At 29-years-old I have a salary job. At 29-years-old I have a career. 4 years in college, while working full time then cutting it to part-time to do my internship, 4 years in grad school, while working full time. Any free time I did get went to doing freelance photography and graphic design. No more of killing myself. Its finally happening.

I cannot wait to tell Benson.

My boyfriend, Benson Varr, and I have been dating for 3 years. Can I say that we met at a difficult time? I can. I had just finished school, starting my second internship, with a job, it was a lot happening. But here we are 3 years later. Every breakdown and stressful situation he was there. No more of that. We’ll practically be on vacation. This day is perfect.

I made a stop at our favorite Chinese bistro and got all of our favorite dishes then made a stop at the liquor store and grabbed two bottles of wine. This is amazing. I can’t believe it. He can finally quit his job. No more struggling, we can just live. This is truly the best day of my life.

I got home and realized it was still early, he wouldn’t be home for another hour. Good I have time to spruce up our apartment.

I poured the food into some metal pans and throw them in the oven on low. I vacuumed the living and around the dining area. Cleaned off the table and pulled out some candles from the kitchen drawer. Pretty fancy for a Tuesday. I checked the clock again, he should home soon. I should change, just something simple, don’t want to get to fancy. He’s going to be so happy.

I rushed to the bedroom and got into some leggings and a sweater then I heard the locks on the front door open.

“Hey baby,” I said coming out the bedroom.

“Hey,” he said not really looking at me and throwing his jacket on the couch. “What’s for dinner?”

“Oh almost forgot,” I said rushing into the kitchen to turn off the oven. “All our favorites.” I said walking to the dining table with a pan.

“What’s with the candles?” Benson asked.

“Well,” I said bringing in the second pan and a bottle of wine. “I have some exciting news. You know my interview was today?”

“Interview for what?” he asked.

“Blaze Publishing.” I said, slightly annoyed, “I’ve only been talking about for a month now. My old career advisor was still emailing about potential job offers. Saw they had a mail clerk position open, thought it’d be smart for me to apply, as away to get my foot in the door. She was even sending samples of portfolio around.”

He shook his head.

“Two weeks after I applied my supervisor from the print shop had signed a 3 year contract with Blaze Publishing passed my name around and got me a meeting with the head agent. I’ve literally talked about this non stop.”

“Sorry, long day,” he said taking a seat at the table and helping him self to a glass of wine. “Well how’d it go?”

I let out a sigh but smiled. Nothing can kill this mood.

“Well, it went exactly like I thought it would it.” I said sitting down next to him. “It went better actually. Baby she offered me the job. Elaine Blaze, herself, offered me a life changing career.”

He had started making a plate for himself as I was talking. Which had me slightly annoyed again.

“Wait, this is the job where you’d be traveling?” he finally asked. At lest that means he’s listening.

“Yeah.” I said “6 months outta the year. Not straight, but yeah lots of room service and suitcases. All expenses paid for.”

“6 months?” he asked surprised.

“Yes”

“Mi, 6 months?”

“Ben, what’s the problem?” I asked.

“Baby 6 months,” said Benson “6 months. To where exactly?”

“The agent told me Germany for 2 months, maybe 3.” I said. “There’s an athletic company trying to sponsor people in the European circuit. At least 5 different people have confirmed there spots. There’s going to be lots of photoshoots. Lots of opportunity to truly brand myself as a real photographer. Not just an ole timey tourist shop worker.”

“But you loved that job.” Said Benson.

“Yeah I did, what I didn’t love was the $8.50 an hour. That wasn’t gonna keep these lights on.” I said.

“What about the print shop?” he asked “You just gon leave?”

I let out another sigh and looked away. He does not listen to me at all.

“I gave them my notice last week.” I said not still not looking. “I literally came home and told you that.”

“Mi work has been crazy the past couple of weeks, you have to repeat shit like this to me,” he said getting up from the table.

“Or you could just fuckin listen to me when I talk.” I said finally looking back him.

“Mi, you talking about leaving the country, what about the apartment? Your family? Me?” he yelled.

“Like I said,” standing as well, “If you would just listen and not interrupt I was getting to that.”

“Your mother would really want you to leave the country for 6 months?” he asked.

“I’m not asking anyone’s permission. I’m an adult!” I yelled. “But since you asked, yes she’s quite happy about it. I called her as soon as I left the office. She started crying. She’s happy her daughter is finally reachin her goals. I’m reachin my goals Ben. I thought you’d be the littlest excited.”

“Excited? Excited?!” he yelled “Mi you talking about leaving me to go fulfill some childhood fantasy.”

“No, I was asking you to come with me.” I yelled.

“Come with you?” he asked

“Yeah, Ms. Blaze is a multi-millionaire. She can afford for someone’s boyfriend to come along for a few photoshoots.” I said turning back to the table and pouring myself a glass of wine. “You sure know how ruin a nice evening.”

“Well what about the apartment?” he asked “I mean we just renewed the lease 3 months ago.”

“We could sublease it to my sister. She works 2 miles up the road, and I know she’s ready to leave daddy’s house.” I said with my back to him.

“What about my job?” he asked “I’m just suppose to leave cuz you said so.”

I put my glass on the table and turned to face him.

“Benson are you serious? Are you fucking serious?!” I said loudly. “You hate that job. You bitch about it every day. I’m offering you the chance to leave it and you’re bitching about that too. What the hell is wrong with?”

“What’s wrong with me?” he yelled.

“Yes,” I yelled back “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m offering the chance to travel and explore and you’re telling me no!”

We both got quiet and stared at each other in a tense silence.

“I’m not abandoning you Benson,” I said “I’m trying to start a life with you.”

“Start a life?” he responded “What marriage? Kids?”

“Duh” I said.

“You went and got thing put in your arm and now you wanna start a family? You so backwards.” He said.

I shook my head and looked at my arm. A few months ago I had gone three days without taking my pill. I was so busy with my jobs that I just forgot. As a precaution I just took them all the next morning, but my period was late. He was just as nervous as I was, if not more. But three home test and an ultrasound confirmed no pregnancy. Then my doctor suggested semi permeant birth control. An armband requires no surgery, it was a simple procedure and it’s good for 3 years. I love Benson, and I know he’ll make a great dad, like I’ll be a good mom. Just not right now.

“We both agreed on this.” I said, “We both agreed that we weren’t ready. I came home and we talked about it before any decision was made. Its not like I got an abortion.”

“You a trip” he said.

“Really?” I yelled “I’m a trip, when just a month before the pregnancy scare I said we should get a dog. An animal shelter came to the print shop needing banners and flyers made for a festival for rescues and I said we should get one. What was it that you said?”

He rolled his eyes and turned away.

“Oh you don’t remember?” I yelled “Let me remind you. You said that we barley have time and energy for ourselves and that bringing a dog into our home be irresponsible. That it would be unfair and selfish. That’s why we didn’t get a dog. But a human infant is less responsible. Makes perfect sense Ben!”

“You know what, I’m not in the mood for this.” He said grabbing his jacket from the couch. ”How bout I stay at my moms tonight,”

“Yeah you do that.” I said. He walked away slamming the door as he left.

I went back to table and grabbed the whole bottle of wine and went to the bedroom.

“He’s such an idiot.” I said out loud. This seems to be all we ever do anymore. Fight over the smallest things. Everything, even something great like this turns into a fight.