Circles
by NaruMolly (aka Gwenne-chan, or Bard)

PART SIX: Into the Breach

* * * * * * * *

Rei sighed and leaned her broom against the wall of the temple once she realized that down on the stairs of the temple, watching Phoebes and Demos hop around on the ground she had been sweeping the same three-foot area for the past twenty minutes. She flopped before her. **Who is that Bridgette woman, anyway; or what?** Rei sighed, reaching out a hand to scratch at the neck of the nearer bird. **Without blinking, she single-handedly takes down at least half the terrorists without getting so much as a scratch and without making a sound. She heals Nathan Malley from the brink of death, and then she doesn't even twitch when she rearranges the memories of over two hundred people to exclude any trace of magic, of her or the other members of the group except Nathan. And then she takes away the fact that that Joerdan guy seemed to know Nathan.** Rei rubbed at her forehead, grimacing. It hurt just to think about it.

Rei and the others had listened in fascination as the other former hostages had told the police what had happened. The parts they told that lead up to the beginning of Nathan's confrontation with Joerdan were all familiar, but as soon as they reached the part where Nathan had first spoken, the tale was completely new. She and the other Scouts and Molly could only listen in shock.

According to the students and teachers, Joerdan had spotted Nathan as some sort of prominent person and started to pick on him--eventually threatening Molly. Angered, Nathan had thrown a challenge back at the man, evidently striking up some warped sense of honor in the leader of the terrorists. They had fought--with fists and Nathan had been winning until Joerdan had shot him twice. But the fight had given the Sailor Scouts time to arrive and sneak in--and had distracted the other terrorists enough for the hostages to fight back with reasonable safety. No one knew where Joerdan had escaped to, though.

What was even odder, were Nathan's wounds. Rei knew fatal wounds when she saw them, and yet when the paramedics had arrived and carted him off to the hospital with Bridgette, whom had, according to the police's memories, been at the barricades outside all day, they had discovered the wounds were nasty, but not too serious. All that had remained of the wounds were a thumb-sized hole in his right side, and a chipped and bruised collarbone, coupled with severe blood loss. Certainly debilitating injuries, but not fatal if caught in time.

"I had to do it, you know. Tamper with the memories of all those people. I don't like to, but I had to do it."

Rei jumped to her feet, hand flying for her wand--and saw Bridgette standing calmly at the base of the stairs. The leader of Wayfarer looked nothing like the grim, cold fighter she had that morning. Gone was the gi-like clothing; instead she wore black leggings, a lace-cuffed shirt, and a dark violet jacket. All she looked like, on the surface, was a tired, and worried middle-aged woman.

Unless you looked at her eyes.

"I--how did you know what I--"

"Come now, Rei," Bridgette said, voice gentle, "for one who listens to the Fire for answers to troubling questions, and one who has long held the ability to sense other's thoughts, you certainly seem surprised to meet another with telepathy."

"I--" Rei frowned, rubbing at her arms. "I've never met someone else who could--" She shuddered. For some reason, the thought of someone being able to pick through her memories without too much effort was--

"I could, Rei, but I won't. Despite what you may think or fear of me, I do have some since of morals." She smiled faintly, some hint of humor twinkling in those too-knowing eyes. "Now; I believe I promised an explanation. This may take awhile." She shook her single braid back over her shoulder. "Come to dinner tonight with your friends; I will invite Molly myself on the way home. Bring a change of clothing."

"I don't think my grandfather is going to let me go spend the night at--"

"You won't be spending the night. To the people of this world, you will be gone only a few hours, no matter how long it takes to explain things."

Rei blinked. "How is that--possible?"

Bridgette smiled thinly. "Unless you wish to spend several years in the learning of even the basics of temporal laws, I suggest you just accept the fact that I can make a pocket of space run time faster than the surroundings."

Rei blinked, than looked at her ravens for a moment, in confusion. They hadn't moved the entire time Bridgette had been there. They had both straightened, staying statue still, and they watched Bridgette carefully. "I--"

"I will explain things to the lengths that I am permitted, tonight," Bridgette said.

Rei frowned. "Permitted?"

Bridgette raised an eyebrow. "I am bound by rules just as any other person is, Rei." She turned to go, sweeping the folds of her cloak around her against the cold wind, stooping and picking up a dark cloth back of something that clinked like glass or crystal.

"Wait--why--did you come to me?"

She shrugged, turning back to the girl. "You were on the way--eight o'clock. I fear my four are too tired to be ready before then." She smiled with a bit more warmth, then turned her eyes to the birds. "*Dilfy' hylo,*" she said, an odd almost musical hint flavoring the strange words.

Rei stared as the two birds seemed to bow, spreading their wings. When Rei was finally able to tear her eyes away from the ravens as they suddenly went back to their normal movements, Bridgette was gone. Shivering, Rei pulled out her communicator and started to call the others.

* * * * * * * *

Nathan winced, but waved Zoë and Malcolm back to their chairs as he slowly and painfully walked into the room, headed for one of the armchairs. He was enveloped in his enormous blue terry-cloth robe over his favorite gray silk pajamas, looking almost fragile. His hair was loose, some of it falling untidily into his eyes, the rest spread out over this shoulders. His right arm was bound tightly to his side in a sling that had the "just out of the package look." He carefully began to lowering himself into the chair near the fireplace, hissing in pain as he sat, then propping his feet up on a footstool and closing his eyes in pain. "Why am I the one who always gets hurt?" he groaned.

Malcolm smirked. "You're the one who keeps getting in the way."

"At least it seems to be a good way to meet girls," Jared said with a grin as he settled back in his own chair.

"And you always were the most softhearted," Zoë said softly.

Nathan chuckled softly, wincing as he moved a bit too much. He stuck his tongue out at Malcolm, then glanced back a Zoë. "You're right, I guess." He sighed, wiping the faint sheen of sweat from his brow with his good hand. "God, but m'head hurts." He rubbed at his forehead, flipping the hair from his eyes--just to have it fall back down. An annoyed expression crossed his handsome features and he blew at his bangs. "I wish I could put m'hair back up, but it only makes my head hurt worse."

"So leave it down," Zoë said. She cocked her head at him, emerald eyes appraising. "Actually, it looks nice down; why don't you let it grow out again? Bet it'd be nice to run your fingers through."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Great. So then I have the local police convinced I really am Maxfield Stanton."

"You are," Malcolm said, a faint smile quirking his lips.

Nathan groaned. "No'm not! He's dead! Molly has the bleedin' will to prove it." He glanced in the mirror self-consciously. "Maybe you're right, though, Zoë." He shoved his hair from his eyes again, glancing over at her. "You--always were the first one to worry about looks."

Malcolm shrugged fluidly, speaking up before Zoë could launch her indignant retort. "Well--if there is one thing about our former selves--we all knew what looked good, and we took advantage of that."

"Peacock," Zoë teased. "You're the one who spent hours arranging your hair." She stopped, blushing, then paling, her eyes lowering to her lap. "Sorry, Mal."

Malcolm paused, then shrugged, shaking his hair back over his shoulders and smiling. "It doesn't matter, Zoë." He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Nathan--I think I might steal one of those huge pain-pills they gave you; I think I've got the same headache you have."

Jared straightened in his chair, suddenly, his face setting in a faintly cruel expression that looked completely out of place on the younger musician--but just about right for-- "What did you expect, Lord Malachite?"

"Malcolm; the name is Malcolm, Jar--um--Jedite."

Jared/Jedite shrugged. "Whatever you wish Lord--I mean, Malcolm." He frowned, and Zoë shifted uncomfortably in her chair at the alien manner to her friend. "How much do you remember, really? Any of you should know that pain should be expected. Think! You were much more powerful than I was, Mala--Malcolm. You know that controlling that much power takes much training--and we all jumped these--new bodies into using our full powers without our--" His expression changed again, turning from the cold stare into a more familiar broad grin. "Sorta like getting into a major workout without stretching or even being in shape, right?" The face shifted again to a rather annoyed, weary expression. Jedite/Jared sighed. "I--yes." He rubbed at his forehead with his fingers, sighing deeply. "Is this more of Beryl's punishment? Being trapped in this body with that--" The posture shifted yet again. "Hey! I was here first." Jared sniffed, pouting while the others could only stare. "And don't even think about messing with the hair again! This is my body, and I'll wear my hair how I want it! If you try to cut it again, I--I'll get myself plastered and leave you with the hangover." "I think I was better off in the crystal."

Nathan and the others blinked at the one-way conversation, trying to puzzle it out. Finally Nathan shook his head. "Thank you, Jared," he said, rubbing the darkening bruise on the side of his head from where the terrorist had hit him. "I realize I'm lucky; at least this headache will eventually go away."

Jared stuck out his tongue. Zoë shook her head. "It's like watching Robin Williams."

"Robin Williams on a sugar-high," Nathan corrected.

"Who's Robin Williams?"

Malcolm chuckled while Jared grinned broadly--alternating with a glare. "By the way, Nathan--how in the world did Bri get you out of the hospital without five-hundred doctors attached to you?"

Nathan smirked. "You'd be amazed wha' the words 'international incident' c'n do when properly used before the right people."

"We're capable of causing an 'International incident?' " Malcolm asked, chuckling.

"Sure. We're prominent citizens of a foreign country." Nathan winked. "An' Bri's stinkin' rich, so--"

Zoë laughed--then grimaced as her normal laughter rose in volume and pitch. She coughed as the others jumped, Nathan shooting her a glare as he held his head. "Sorry--I--will try to keep the laughter down to human hearing range."

Jared jiggled a finger in his ear ruefully, grinning. "Hell, Zoë--where'd that come from? You think about going into cartoons with that laugh?" His expression became one of wry annoyance. "I never could stand that laugh of yours, Zoic--I mean, Zoë."

The golden-haired woman frowned, a finger idly twining in one of the curls that fell before her ear. "I'm not very fond of it either, you know. I--just did it to be annoying."

"Well," muttered Nathan wryly, "it worked. Drove me and everyone else nuts!"

Zoë shot him a glare. "You never exactly went out of your way to be pleasant to me either, Nathan."

"Did you give me a choice?"

Malcolm raised a hand, dropping his head to the other with a slight groan. "Please! I think we got enough in-fighting into our last lifetimes to last us for awhile. We've already argued through this one on the way back from the hospital. Loudly, I might add." He grimaced, sighing. "We already argued about how much of our former selves we actually are. And then we argued about it again when Jared insisted that we go with him to get the things we needed for dinner tonight."

Jared took over his body again, shrugging. "Hey--I needed to talk about it. I mean--I'm confused--Jedite's confused, so I've got a double dose here. And we get on each others nerves too much to talk about it between the two of us."

"But through three stores? And you only got out one question the whole time!"

"I couldn't find the right kind of lettuce."

"Right kind of lettuce?"

Zoë rolled her eyes while Nathan wheezed with laughter, occasionally gripping his side in pain. "You need to listen to Jedite," she said. "He was never this picky."

"Yes, but he wound up trapped in a crystal," Nathan countered, getting control of his laughter and wiping tears from his eyes.

"You wound up dead."

"So did you."

"I lasted longer."

"Guys!" Malcolm yelled. "Damn! What is wrong with you people. We have new lives--even you Jedite. Beryl is no longer here to control our lives and we are free to make our own decisions. Will you quit acting like we hate each other?"

"We were just teasing, Mal, lighten up!" Nathan said after a moment.

"Really. And besides, you have just as many memories as Nathan and I do. And just as bad." Zoë lost the teasing gleam in her eyes as she stood, back straight, her green eyes flashing with anger. "What gives you such a--"

"I fought these memories--" Malcolm snapped back, standing and glaring back at her, using his greater height to his advantage. "Yes, it is difficult to decide which is which anymore! Do you know how difficult this is?" He sighed, rubbing at his forehead as the yelling got to his headache. He winced and grimaced apologetically at Zoë. "I--I'm sorry, Zoë. It IS difficult. Remembering--what we were." He rubbed at his neck uncomfortably while Zoë blushed. "Especially that." He lowered his head, looking up through his lashes at Nathan. "Sorry, Nate."

Zoë turned away, her anger draining, leaving her tired, shoulders slumped. "Yes. Sorry."

"You've gained a bit more shape on top."

Zoë turned to stare at the yellow-haired musician who was casually lounging on a sofa. She stared at him for a long moment, her mouth open in shock. Then, with no warning, she balled up a fist and socked him in his smirking mouth. Jared/Jedite fell back, bouncing off the back and falling to the floor, clutching at his jaw even as Zoë yelped and clutched at her hand. "Ow! Damn, Zoë! That was Jedite. Remember there are two of us in here!" He worked his jaw a few times. "Damn! You been working out?" He groaned, wincing. "My head already hurt."

Zoë winced, gritting her teeth. "Sorry, Jared. I keep forgetting--you've got him in there." She flinched, raising her hand and trying to bend her fingers. "What is your jaw made of, granite!? I think I broke something."

Nathan sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose with his good hand. "What d'you expect, Zoë? He may be younger than most of us, but he's always been the most thickheaded, even before Jedite popped in." Nathan smirked slightly. "Besides--after nine years of karate, you tuck your fingers like that and don’t expect them to be broken?"

Zoë grimaced, but looked a bit sheepish. "_I_ know that, Nathan--but--Zoisite--" she shook her head. "Come on Jed--I mean--"

"Why not just call him 'J' until we get this sorted out," Malcolm suggested, stretching.

Jared grinned. "Jedite hates it. That'll do."

Zoë shook her head. "You know--you really ought to try to get along with him."

"Nah-tormenting him gives me something to do when you aren't around." Jared's grin was wide.

Zoë grinned, but she sighed. "Come on--let's go get some ice for my hand and your jaw."

"I need to start on supper anyway. It's almost 5."

"I think I'm going to dance; I'm getting out of shape," Malcolm said, shaking his head. "I'll be in the back room if anyone wants to join me."

"After I get my hand to stop hurting, sure." Zoë glanced at Nathan. "You coming?"

Nathan gestured to his bound arm with a wry smile. "Oh, aye. Dance after bein' shot all the time." He grinned while Zoë blushed.

"Sorry, Nate. I wasn't thinking."

"That's okay, Zoë. No--I think I'll just sit in here an' read somethin', 'til the guests get here."

Malcolm, Zoë, and Jared, arguing with himself, left the room, and Nathan sighed, staring at his image in the mirror once more, shoving a few strands of hair from his eyes again. "Looks like I lied t'you 'bout that parfait again, Molly." He sighed, then reached to the nearby table and picked up the book that lay there. " Hamlet. Great; just what I bloody need." He looked speculatively at the laden bookshelves on the other side of the room, and sighed, flipping the book open.

* * * * * * * *

"Mother! I'm all right, really! Nathan--stopped them from hurting me at all."

Mrs. Baker sighed and let herself be waved off for about the fourth time that hour. "I--heard." She paused, staring at her daughter's faint smile. "Molly--what is between you and that musician person, anyway?"

Molly blushed. "He's--um--"

"But he's so much older than you are."

"Older than you think," Molly muttered to herself.

"What?"

"I--he's only twenty, Momma."

"That's FIVE years difference!"

"So? Mother--he and I--we--" Molly broke off, trying to explain.

"He's probably just after the fortune that Maxfield person left you."

Molly almost choked. "No! No, Momma, there's no way he'd be after--" She blushed. "Besides--he's got plenty of money already."

"But--"

The doorbell interrupted whatever she had been going to say. Molly took advantage of the distraction and hopped up off the couch to go answer it. She opened the door--and blinked. "Hello, Miss Corwyn."

Bridgette Corwyn stood in the stairwell, smiling, raising a graceful hand to shove her long braid over her shoulder. "Hello, Molly. Are you feeling all right? Nathan wanted me to ask specifically."

"Yeah, I--"

"Who is it? Oh!" Molly's mother stopped, staring at the elder woman in surprise. "You--you're um--"

"Bridgette Corwyn," she held out her hand and shook Mrs. Baker's hand. "I was just checking in with Molly. Nathan was worried for her."

"He was--worried for her?"

Bridgette nodded. "Yes; quite a bit actually, but then Nathan's like that." She paused, brushing a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, eyes scanning the front room of their apartment with the idle curiosity that any person calling for the first time might. "Actually, I was wondering if Molly might like to come to dinner this evening.; all of the other girls--Molly's friends from her school, and the other two--are coming over as well."

"I--after all that went on today? They're going out to dinner? Their parents--"

Bridgette shrugged a little, kicking the cloth bag at her feet with her foot a little, causing it to chime and tickle faintly. "Why not? Our house is probably the safest place in the city at the moment. And it would do Nathan some good to see her."

"I--thought he had been shot. Shouldn't he be at the hospital?"

"He was shot twice, yes; but he prefers to convalesce at home with his friends."

"But--"

"Would that be all right with you, Mrs. Baker? I swear to you that she will be in good hands."

Mrs. Baker sighed deeply, rubbing at her forehead. "I dunno-I don't want for her to be any trouble or anything..."

"Oh, she's no trouble. Nathan adores her, and Jared does, too. And Zoë’s relieved to have someone closer to her age to chat with, and Malcolm really adores people..."

"Well, if you're sure she'll be no problem..."

Molly knew the look in her mother's eyes. With a grin for Bridgette's slight wink, she ran to her room to change clothes.

* * * * * * * *

"I'm not so sure that this is a good idea," said Luna from her perch on Lita's shoulder, eyeing the gate and the musician's house mistrustfully.

"I dunno how else we're going to find anything out," Lita said, shrugging, turning her head to look at the small cat and accidentally bopping her one with her ponytail.

"Besides, Luna," said Ami, hiding a giggle at the cat's perturbed expression as she swatted irritably at Lita's hair, "Nathan's proven to be trustworthy, at least. And Jared seemed all right before whatever happened to him did. You know--whatever Nathan was talking about, anyway."

"Yeah, but what about this afternoon?" Rei asked. "That certainly didn't seem like the Jared who had Serena giggling like mad the other night at dinner. It was more like--um--you know who."

"Got me," Lita said. "Maybe it's because he was being shot at. I think I'd act differently with a bunch of guns aimed at me."

"Maybe we should just go in and find out?" suggested Mina, scratching Artemis' ears, her pretty face twisted in a bit of sarcasm. "I mean--after we went through all the trouble to explain to our parents just why we were going out the night of the day a school got attacked."

Serena laughed nervously. "Umm--actually, I didn't tell--um--"

"Serena! Lita!" They all turned to see Molly trotting up, her breath misting the chilly air as she ran up the path to them. Her eyes were flashing with excitement, and her cheeks flushed from exertion. "Wait for me!"

"You got invited, too?" asked Rei, frowning.

"Miss Corwyn invited me. I was worried about Nathan, and she said that he'd probably like to see me and stuff. And she told Momma that this was probably the safest place in the city."

"Hmm," said Luna. "Well--since we're already here, and since Serena will probably be grounded once we do get back to the house, we might as well go on with this. But keep a close grip on your power wands, and be ready for anything."

"Particularly where that Bridgette is concerned," added Artemis.

They all walked up the steps to the front door. Muffled by the door, from somewhere in the house, came the sound of music; Irish, if they were able to judge from what they had learned. They all glanced at each other, and shrugged. Serena raised her hand and pressed the bell. After a few minutes, she rang the bell again. Finally the door opened slowly, emitting the music louder than before--accented with a curious under pattern of rapid beats under it.

Nathan Malley stood there, leaning heavily on the door, smiling thinly, and looking frail and almost small in a huge blue terry-cloth robe. His face was shadowed, and the bruise from the terrorist's gun darkened one side of his face, and his hair fell loosely about his face and shoulders, straggling into his eyes. "Hi." He grimaced, still keeping a grip on the door, and smiled again, eyes on Molly. "Sorry it took so long t'answer, but Zoë an' Mal are in the back dancing out their frustrations an' Jared's doing something arcane in the kitchen so that we c'n actually eat."

"Where's Bridgette?" asked Rei with a frown, peering past Nathan and into the house, while no one made a move to go in.

Nathan shrugged slightly, wincing in pain, his breath catching a little. "I'm not sure. She had to take care o' some things, she said. She'll be back."

Glancing at each other, they all entered the house, once Nathan limped painfully out of the way. Molly immediately sidled up to stand at Nathan's side, offering him support and giving him a gentle hug around the hips. "Should you even be up?" Ami asked.

"Probably not," Nathan admitted, "but here I am. I'm not known t'pay attention t' doctors' orders."

Lita giggled, and Molly smiled, helping Nathan along. Everyone went into the library that was near the door, Nathan and Molly heading for a sofa closer to the fireplace. Lita looked Nathan over once then grinned broadly, nudging Mina in the ribs and winking as the cats hopped off to explore the room. "Molly has really good taste, huh?"

"Huh?" Mina looked at Lita blankly, pausing in taking off her coat and hanging it on the hat tree to one side.

Lita winked as Nathan regarded her strangely, stopping halfway in sitting down, the bruise on his face looking darker in the firelight. "Well, I mean, look at him! He was cute enough as it was, but the 'injured' look makes me wanna--"

"You said Malcolm and Zoë were--dancing?" Mina interrupted, smothering giggles while Nathan rolled his eyes and sat carefully, breathing out in relief.

Nathan nodded, pushing his hair from his eyes with his good hand, settling back against the back of the couch, smiling a little once Molly snuggled up to his side. "Aye." He cocked his head at them, smiling a little. "Not like you're thinkin', I'd wager; they don' dance together like that much. Jar an' Zoë do, an' Malcolm's usually dancin' with Bri, if he can help it." He grinned when Mina and Lita exchanged glances. "Aye, despite the way they were past life. Anyway, if y'ladies wish t' talk t' them, they're in the back room. Can't miss them if y'follow your ears." He settled back again, closing his eyes wearily while Molly held his hand in hers.

Curious, Darien, Rei, Lita, Serena, and the two cats left Molly, Ami, and Mina to keep Nathan company, and headed for the backroom, following the sound of the music. They reached the room, and stopped, crowding in the doorway, watching in fascination.

All of the furniture in the room had been pushed to the wall, and the ornate hand-woven rugs were rolled and leaning in the corners. Zoë was standing before a portable stereo which rested on one of the tables against the wall, several CD cases held in her hand as she appeared to search for the appropriate one. Malcolm was leaning against one wall, a foot propped up on a lacquered cabinet, his body leaning on his leg, stretching. He glanced up at them, smiling and squinting a little. "Ah--is it that late already? I--" his eyes fell on the cats, and he stilled, his foot falling from it's rest to thud on the floor with a loud click. He paled, face matching his hair. "I--my god."

Everyone, stared, including Zoë. "What is it?" asked Rei finally, when he had just stared at the two cats for a full minute, the cats backing and hiding behind Serena's legs.

Malcolm shook his head. "I--I'm sorry, but I--just saw the cats and I--remembered--" He rubbed a hand over his face, scuffing his foot a little, the shoe clicking faintly when it moved. "I--almost killed you; all of you." He shuddered, looking pained. "Can you ever forgive that?"

Lita stared for a moment, then shrugged, a wide grin spreading over her face. "Hey--anyone can make a mistake." She winked. "Side's, it wasn't your fault."

Malcolm blinked, staring at her. "But--"

Zoë set the CD case down by the stereo and settled her hands on her hips, giving him a bit of a sour look. Finally she shrugged, rubbing at her bandaged right hand. "Weren't you just telling me earlier," she said, "that we have new lives now? And that we should try to start over?"

Malcolm sighed, but nodded, pulling his sweat-damp hair back into a tail and tying it in place with a leather cord that he pulled from his pocket. "I suppose I deserve having my own words thrown back at me every now and then." He shook his head. "Sorry." He glanced at a clock on the wall. "Two hours early?"

"Had to get out before the parents changed their minds," Serena said with a laugh.

"You were dancing?" Lita asked suddenly.

Malcolm paused, then nodded. "Yes. It's a good way to keep in shape, you know."

Lita grinned, poking Serena in the ribs. "Yeah. I ice skate sometimes."

"I know, remember?" There was an uncomfortable silence, and Malcolm coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed to shake his foot, and a complex pattern of taps sounded out as this heel and toe struck the floor. "Jared's our ice skater. Really, I'm better at--um-ballroom, but Irish dancing is good for when you're frustrated."

"And ballets no good for being mad, either," said Zoë with a faint smile. "It's too dainty."

"You do--ballet?" Serena asked, an arm tucked behind her head in a nervous gesture.

Zoë nodded. "On occasion, chest and height aside." She started to laugh, then grimaced and smiled apologetically at Malcolm who had started to wince as the pitch rose.

"What's Irish dancing?" asked Rei, leaning against the doorframe.

Malcolm paused. "It is--" he shook his head. "Rather like tapping--but--well--"

Zoë shook her head. "Better show them, Mal."

"Huh?"

Malcolm shrugged, moving out into the center of the cleared space in the room while the girls found pieces of furniture to perch on, Rei staying in the doorway. "Found 'Cumberland’ yet? It's good enough to show them the basic idea."

Zoë grinned and reached over and pressed play on the stereo. "Mal's almost as good as Nathan is at this, so don't let him fool you," she said.

Malcolm stood still a moment, his arms hanging at his side. The music started--and his feet moved. If they didn't look closely, it just looked like he was walking in place, but the pattern of taps was too complex, and his feet were almost a blur. The music picked up and Malcolm's feet went into more action, stomping and leaping, though his arms and upper body didn't move much. Zoë trotted over and joined him, and the girls just watched them for a moment. Finally, the song ended, and they stopped completely, both of their feet slamming into the floor one last time. "Well--" Malcolm breathed, pushing sweaty tendrils of hair from his eyes as Zoë went to switch off the music, "That's it."

"That's incredible! How do you learn to do that?" Serena asked, beaming brightly and bouncing over to them.

Malcolm shrugged, though he had to smile at the girl's enthusiasm. "Practice. Lot's of it."

"Oh." Serena deflated a little.

"Dieting and exercise," Zoë added.

"Oh." Serena's voice was almost a whisper and she glanced at Luna from the corner of her eye. The dark cat merely raised a meaningful brow.

"Nathan's an exception to the case, though," said Malcolm wryly, patting the distraught girl on the shoulder with a chuckle, "him and his chocolate habit. With the way he eats, you'd think--"

"Oh! Really." Zoë raised an eyebrow. "And who was it that came back from the Gumi store last time we were in Germany with about forty varieties of gummi things?"

Malcolm shrugged, smiling right back, the silver eyes molten with mischief. "I have no idea. Perhaps the person who helped me eat them might tell me."

Zoë cleared her throat, trying to look offended, then just giggled. "Well--um." She glanced at the others. "Well--we'd better get cleaned up, or it'll smell odd at supper. Did you find Nathan?"

"He let us in," said Serena, hopping back to lean on Darien's arm. "Him, Molly, Ami, and Mina are in that front room."

Malcolm nodded. "I'm not surprised Jared didn't hear the door. I have no idea what he does in the kitchen exactly, but it certainly makes enough of a mess and one hell of a lot of noise."

"Kitchen?" Lita perked up. "I'll go see if he needs some help."

"Yeah, sure, Lita," Rei said. "You just think that he reminds you of your old boy--" suddenly she shrieked, jumping about three feet in the air, reaching into her coat pocket to pull out a ward--to see Jared backing away into the wall across the hall, his hands held up defensively.

"Sorry, Miss Rei. Couldn't resist the old 'cold fingers on the neck' thing." He watched her for a moment with a lopsided grin on his face, then licked his lips, the grin slipping when she didn't relax.

"Where'd that bruise come from?" asked Lita, going over and touching his darkened chin and glaring at Rei until she replaced the ward in her pocket.

"Oh. Zoë. I deserved it--or rather--" Jared shrugged. "Suppose I almost got a matching one, eh, Rei? Or was it going to be death by post-it note?" The expression on his face shifted some. "I do wish you wouldn't give things those ridiculous cute names. There is a great deal more to it than that." "Sorry--I'm just trying to understand things, Jed." "Will you not call me that? I hated that assignment!" "Will you relax?"

The girls watched the one-sided argument, blinking in confusion. Finally, Serena asked. "What was that?"

"Jared--ah--got memories back a bit differently than the rest of us," Malcolm said.

"I'll say," Jared said, the more genial expression taking over again. "I fall flat on my face one night, then--wham. Two people in limited living space. One of us from a past life who was apparently still alive when I was born."

Rei blinked. "You're possessed? By yourself?"

"I don't know," groaned Jared with a shrug.

"What about you--um--Jedite?" asked Darien.

"I never paid attention to such things; that sort of thing wasn't among my abilities." It was still Jared's voice, but the accent was definitely different. "I suppose the only person who might be able to explain what is exactly going on is this 'Bridgette' person." "Ah, leave Bri alone."

Serena shrugged, glancing at Luna. "I guess she can't be this singer person from the Moon after all, if HE doesn't remember her."

"What?" Jedite/Jared stared.

"Well--you four were apparently once part of my court--or something," Darien said. "That's why the Earth wasn't trusted in the last days; because you lot went over."

"I remember nothing of this!" Jedite exclaimed, "All I can remember is-Beryl." He frowned. "Come to think of it, I can't remember anything before I was about 17 or so."

"Neither can I," said Malcolm. "I was on Earth?" He cocked his head to one side curiously.

"That's what Luna said," Serena explained.

The gray-blue cat cleared her throat. "Yes, well--she still does wear that locket. And perhaps they do not have all of their memories back; Beryl, after all, did seem to enjoy playing with people's minds."

"Disturbing. Locket?"

"The locket Bridgette wears is the same one that this person apparently wore all those years ago," said Lita with a shrug. "Or so Luna says. Something about that no one could remember her face, but they could remember the locket."

Malcolm frowned, then shrugged. "Well--um--she said she would explain tonight. Now--I am going to get a shower."

"Mind if I join you?" said Zoë.

Malcolm stared a moment. "Zoë--that--wasn't funny," he said finally.

She grimaced. "Sorry." She cleared her throat, fighting back a laugh. "Ah--don't use all the hot water, Peacock."

They watched the two of them head up the stairs. "So--um--does one of you want to help me in the kitchen?" asked Jared suddenly, breaking into the silence.

"Sure," said Lita brightly, a positively predatory look on her face.

Jared nodded towards the hallway. "Well--you'll have to rely on Nathan to entertain the rest of you, I'm afraid. The way I fling about knives tends to unnerve people. Oh--desert's in there by the way. I figured that you guys could start on them before they melted."

"What is it?" Serena asked, perking up at the mention of sugar.

Jared grinned and winked at Serena. "Chocolate parfaits."

Serena jumped, then glanced at Rei and grinned back brightly. "Oh."

* * * * * * * *

Joerdan bowed low to Queen Beryl, nervously checking for escape routes. Beryl glared at him, hers hands, for once, not moving over her ball. "Well, Joerdan, I hope you have an explanation for yourself. I didn't gather nearly the amount of energy you promised me. What happened to those worthless mortals of yours?"

"I--am not certain, my Queen. But, I saw--"

"Did you even find Sailor Moon?"

"Yes, Majesty," Joerdan said carefully. "And her friends--and Tuxedo Mask." He paused. "And--"

"I am not interested to hear of who else made a fool out of you," Beryl snapped.

"Even if it was Nephlite and the others?" Joerdan dared to interject.

Beryl fell dead silent and her eyes narrowed. "Nephlite lives?" She raised her voice, and the other beings gathered just in the shadows fell silent. "Leave us."

* * * * * * * *

Nathan set aside the empty glasses with his good arm while Molly nestled closer. He glanced down at the cards spread out on the table before him, then at the ones held in his right hand--about the only things he could hold with that arm at the moment. "Hmmm. 'Ow many decks are we playin' with, Mal?"

Malcolm paused a moment, mentally calculating and squinting at the stack of card boxes to one side. "Ah--eight."

Nathan whistled softly, shaking his head. "So--those two cancel each other out--so do those four--ah." He dropped a card on the table with a grin. "All right."

Molly glanced over her cards. "Um--I can cancel yours, Nathan," she said, dropping a matching card on the table. "Is that good?"

"As few points as possible, Mol'. That's what Hearts is all about."

The others placed cards and Serena realized, being the last person, that she was going to be stuck taking the hand regardless. "Wah!" she wailed, looking at all the points she was taking in.

Rei grinned as Darien reached out and gathered the cards, setting them to her side. "Well--she could always try to, what was it--'shoot the moon?' Get all the points so that everyone takes them all?"

Malcolm held up a single two of hearts from the stack at his side, a slow, almost evil grin on his face, though the eyes were still playful. "Sorry, Sailor Scum. No can do." He smiled, winking when Rei stuck out her tongue. "Besides--I thought you were supposed to protect the moon, not shoot at it."

Mina giggled. "Guess that's you three's job, huh?"

Malcolm chuckled, then squinted at his cards. Finally, he sighed and reached into a pocket on his shirt and pulled out a pair of glasses, perching them on his nose as he peered at his hand. "Glasses?" asked Serena with a giggle.

Malcolm colored. "Can't the bad guys be myopic, too?" He cleared his throat as the Scouts stared at him with mixtures of amusement. "So I read under my covers too much when I was younger."

"Ahem." Zoë cleared her throat, though she grinned a bit. She leaned forward. "Go on Serena--play a card."

* * * * * * * *

"So--you enjoy cooking?" Lita asked, raising the cloth off the top of the bowl that held the rising bread dough.

Jared grinned and nodded, wielding a wicked looking knife as he rapidly chopped up vegetables for the salad. "For the most part. Bridgette sometimes cooks; she taught me, actually. And back in Ireland, we have a cooking staff. The others, though--well--they're hopeless." He grinned. "Nathan manages to both burn toast and make it soggy at the same time. Zoë could burn water. And Malcolm--well, the last time he tried cooking, he took chicken, noodles, and cheese and came up with this green soufflé thing." Lita spluttered in laughter, stirring the soup for him. "So--I cook. Nathan can paint, Zoë writes, and Malcolm is--actually a great dancer, if you can talk him out of sitting around the television with the rest of us. We're all, sadly, cartoon junkies." Jared grinned and winked.

"Cartoons?" Lita laughed.

"Virtually anything animated. Especially the stuff they make over her; anime."

Lita grinned. "Anyway--I guess there must be a rule about only one person in any given group of people being able to cook. My friends are just hopeless." She grinned, opening the oven to check the progress of the lasagna. "Serena eats enough to feed four, and she's failing cooking. Again."

Jared laughed. "That's all right; where I was born, people expect you to eat enough for a small army. So--I always make too much." He cocked his head. "I do like cooking, though." He grinned mischievously, eyes twinkling. "And so far, it annoys the hell out of Jedite."

Lita paused, closing the oven and leaning over the salad bowl, checking out the contents with some interest. "How did that happen? I mean--the two of you like that?"

Jared shook his head. "I dunno. Maybe it's because Jedite never really died, until recently. We share a body, but we only know what we tell each other about each other. We're like two separate people." His posture changed slightly, and Lita straightened, instinctively moving a step away, realizing she was faced with the former Negaverse general. "Indeed." He set the knife down on the cutting board after staring at it for a moment. "I do not--recognize you. You must have joined the others after--Beryl trapped me."

Lita cleared her throat, taking up chopping the vegetables from where Jared had left off. "Uh--yeah. I joined--after Nephlite was--um--dead already."

Jedite nodded, then visibly relaxed as Jared took back over, hopping up to perch on the counter and snagging a carrot stick to munch. "Oh--that was Jedite. He says to tell you, 'Hello.' " Jared grinned.

"That must be weird, having two people in there."

Jared paused, then grinned. "I suppose, but it keeps you from being lonely." He shrugged and hopped down, peeking into a pot to see it the soup was done. "Though--I suppose people will think I'm crazy when I run about talking to myself all the time. Not that that stopped me before," he added after a slight pause. Again he straightened, posture stiffening, as he set the pan lid down. "I would say arguing is a better term, Jared."

Lita paused, then shrugged, smiling easily. "Beats being alone. I've been alone a long time." She shrugged when Jared looked concerned, and busied herself by looking around the kitchen. "You know--this is the first time I've ever made Italian."

"Me as well," replied Jedite.

* * * * * * * *

"Bri's never been late before," said Malcolm, stuffing a deck of cards back into their box, and glancing over at the clock on the mantle with a bit of worry, his glasses slipping down his nose a little.

"Maybe--something happened," ventured Serena hesitantly from where she was curled up at Jared's feet.

"Something happened to Bridgette?" said Rei with a short laugh. "Are you kidding?"

"Nothing happened to me; I merely took longer at something than I thought."

Everyone jumped and looked up. Bridgette stood by the entrance to the room, hanging her cloak over the back of a chair, setting a pair of leather gloves on top. Rei glared at her. "Don't keep doing that!"

"No call to be so jumpy, Rei. No one can harm you in here." She calmly moved forward to sit in the chair with a casual grace that had to be practiced.

"No call?!" Rei stood, pointing at the older woman with a slightly shaky hand. "My friends' school gets attacked by the Negaverse and people with guns. You seem to know something, but you won't--"

Bridgette shook her head and Rei stopped. "I rather thought that that was the reason you were all here tonight," she said with a raised eyebrow, making a steeple from her fingers to tap her lips. "Forgive my tardiness, but I was merely checking on a few things that I thought were important." She looked pointedly at Rei. "For instance--seeing what the Da--Negaverse thinks about its generals seemingly coming back to life. And I also dropped the terrorists I captured at the police station once I freed them from the crystals."

Jared winced, but said nothing.

Malcolm stared. "How can you do that?" he asked, snatching off his glasses. "How can you possibly get through all of the wards on the Negaverse to go there?"

Bridgette stood, brushing imaginary dust from her clothes. "I told you before, Malcolm; I am not human." She paused, looking at Zoë’s bandaged hand and the bruise on Jared's jaw. "Fighting, were you?" The two looked embarrassed. She raised her eyes to the silent room. "Come--things like this shouldn't be discussed on an empty stomach. And it is going to be a long night."

* * * * * * * *

Bridgette stood, setting her napkin down on the table next to her hardly-touched plate, and turned to look out the window. Everyone shoved their empty plates away, peering at the silent woman intently as she just stared out the window into the gardens for a long moment. "Long ago," she began softly, finally, "there was--another world; far from here. It was in the center of a small universe which was home for only this world and those who lived there." She raised a hand to lay her fingers on the cold glass, her eyes sad and distant. "It was a beautiful place," she said after a moment. "More beautiful than you can possibly imagine. Creatures that now only live in the dreams and myths of other people roamed freely through the lands next to the People who ruled there. They all held intelligence; all knew their purpose.

"The people who ruled the world were tall, and considered beautiful by the standards of the people of the other worlds that they visited. And they visited many other worlds. Every world that exists now, has at least one legend based on the visits of these beings."

"Including this one?" asked Ami.

Bridgette turned to regard the people at the table evenly, stepping away from the window and letting the curtains falling back over the window. "Of course." She paused. "Though, of course, people tended to get the wrong idea." She frowned. "Would--you like to see what I really look like?"

"It's not--scary is it?" Serena asked, huddling against Darien's arm, eyes frightened, her hand holding tightly onto Jared's.

Bridgette looked at the girl sadly, a faint smile on her face. "No. I don't think so." She sighed. "I really couldn't tell you, Serena. You humans never seem to react the same way twice." She shook her head. "One of the last times I revealed my true form on Earth was--nearly two-thousand years ago." She shook her head, chuckling softly. "The reaction was--unexpected." Jared coughed lightly, and Bridgette regarded him with a raised eyebrow. "I don't know everything, Jared--nor would I want to. If I knew everything, I would have gone completely mad by now, I think." She turned a level gaze on Malcolm who sat back with a faint frown. "To know everything is to be denied hope."

"Umm."

"A moment." She paused. "Don't be afraid." She lowered her arms to her side and closed her eyes, her face relaxing. A faint blue glimmer outlined her body--then grew in intensity until everyone was forced to shield their eyes. The light dimmed, and everyone blinked, trying to clear spots from their eyes. Finally, one by one, they turned to look at the figure standing at the head of the table.

The being that stood there was still Bridgette somehow; and her arms still hung easily at her sides. But everything had changed. Her clothing had altered into an almost toga-like garment of layered gauzy silks in a soft rainbow of iridescent colors. Bangles of various metals and crystal glimmered in the faint glow emanating from her, shinning on her wrists. Twin swords rested at either hip, the hilts encrusted with gems. Her hair flowed in red-gold waves to her waist, the silver threaded through it gleaming like it was the metal itself. Her facial features were still basically the same, but they had sharpened, giving her an inhuman beauty. Her eyes had darkened to a deeper shade of blue and glowed from within, and the ears that poked up through her hair held a delicate point. Her shadow, flickering on the wall behind her in the firelight, was out-lined in a bright blue glow. But that wasn't what drew everyone's eyes.

Sprouting from her back and arching over her shoulders was a pair of wings with gleaming feathers that seemed to be made from something like mother-of-pearl. The wings stretched, then folded more serenely, and Bridgette winced, reaching up to rub at the shoulder of one wing. "Hmm. I have such a crick in my left wing."

* * * * * * * *

Melvin yawned and poked at the film he was developing in the tray with the tongs. He glanced over at the clock--9:30 P.M. **It's a good thing that the school's too trashed for there to be school tomorrow--I haven't had a chance to start studying yet.**

Yawning again, he pulled the film out and set it in the enlarger, leaning against the desk and frowning at the photo he had taken earlier that year of Molly and Serena talking before the bulletin board.

Frowning he stared at Molly for a moment. "I don't get it. Some guy shows up looking like the millionaire Maxfield Stanton, and she starts hanging around him." He shrugged, then turned to look back at the pictures slowly emerging from the enlarger. He had gotten real offers of money for these pictures he had managed to sneak during the attack. "He may have protected her this morning, but he didn't use spicy shrimp."

Melvin blinked, then looked closer at the photo's coming out of the enlarger. The first few were of Nathan Malley playing his fiddle. Then there was one of the hallway, and the frightened students and teachers, Miss Harudda being supported by Nathan and Molly. Then, the gym, the students huddled around. The weird man coming in. Nathan and he facing each other, Molly huddled behind the musician...

...Nathan holding his arms out before him, a gout of light pouring towards the leader of the terrorists. Fire and other energies swirling between the two combatants...

Melvin blinked, then grabbed one of the photos, peering closer. The camera had angled more towards the ceiling, and when he pulled the picture under the magnifier, he could see the younger woman musician hovering near the rafters, a sword in her hand. In another, two of the other younger musicians stood back to back, fighting with flaring energy. Sailor Mercury standing before Serena who held a strange wand, Jupiter in the background. Bridgette Corwyn kneeling before the fallen Nathan, blue glowing hands hovering over his blood-soaked chest.

Blinking, he grabbed the photos' and headed upstairs for his computer--and his scanner.

* * * * * * * *

"You're an angel?" Serena squeaked in alarm, eyes growing huge.

Bridgette winced slightly, but smiled, shaking her head. "That is one of the legends that sprung up about us, but it falls far short of the truth. We're far from the serene, holy beings depicted in those stories." She sighed, the wings shifting, then resettling with a faint rustle and chime. She turned to one side and raised her hands. The air shimmered before each of the others at the table--and a pile of grayish cloth appeared before each of them. "Here. There is a place--that I must show you before I start explaining anything. It--may help you understand."

"What is this stuff?" asked Jared, warily poking the pile of cloth.

The texture startled him. It was heavy feeling, like velvet or flannel, but it felt like the finest silk to his fingers. "Wyvern shed."

"What?!" Malcolm shrank away from the stuff, his glasses slipping down his nose a little once again. "As in the scaly things you see on medieval shields?"

Bridgette sighed. "The same. This is their shed, though. It is a very rare substance, and it cost me a lot to bring it to this world. It will keep you all protected from extremes in temperatures. They will form into your idea of comfortable clothing when--"

"Sounds too good to be true," muttered Zoë.

"Not really, considering all the trouble you must go through to get this." Bridgette sighed. "Please, trust me. Just stand and drape it over your shoulders. The shed is essentially magical in nature to begin with. There is nothing harmful about it." She glanced around and sighed when no one complied. "Please--none of you would even survive a second where we need to go without it."

"Why?" asked Ami, finally taking up the strange material, and letting it fall into one long swath whose end vanished under the table. When she looked closer, she could see faint scales, and a faint iridescent sheen to the whole length.

Bridgette smiled without any humor in it. "Because, Ami, where we are going is within its own universe--and there isn't a sun; and the core of the planet has been cold for thousands of years."

"What--why are we going there, then?"

"It's--what's left of my home," Bridgette said softly. "I need to--show you something there." She frowned, rubbing at her forehead. "Believe me, I have little desire to go there, either. Memories are no easier for me than they would be for you."

* * * * * * * *

"What happened?"

Joerdan shook his head. "I don't understand it, my Queen. They were all back."

"Are you certain? I saw Zoisite's body--I felt Nephlite's death energies," Beryl snapped.

Joerdan found himself sweating slightly. "I--Jedite, Majesty--and the other three. I--was fighting Nephlite before the others showed up with the Scouts and Tuxedo Mask."

Beryl frowned. "They were working together? Only Malachite and Zoisite could be trusted to do that. There is something else going on here."

Joerdan release the breath he had been holding. He had been spared.

This time.

* * * * * * * *

Nathan grimaced and lowered his arm as the strange material formed itself into a comfortable, loose outfit, even to growing over his shoes like a living snowsuit. He resettled his sling and glanced at the others, all dressed in the strange material in various forms of gi's or workout clothes. He took a few experimental breaths, but the cloth seemed to be lighter on than it had seemed in the hands. "What--about our hands--and faces? Surely they'll cause troubles," Nathan said.

Bridgette turned back to him, crouching at Molly's feet and adjusting a stray fold of the material, her wings spread out gracefully for balance. "There are gloves--and the magic will extend to protect you head-and I will erect a shield to protect you as well." She straightened, smiling gently at Molly, and turned back to face the others. "My powers--are greatly lessened on my home world--but then, so are the responsibilities."

"Huh?" said Rei, taking a few experimental movements in her new attire.

Bridgette didn't answer. She turned to Jared. "I've brought some special torches. They're in the hall in the canvas sack. We'll need light more reliable than I might be able to provide if the--" She shook her head, her wings shifting in an almost nervous gesture. Jared stared for a moment, then went out into the hallway, silently returning with a lumpy, long sack over his shoulder. She glanced at Nathan as Molly went back to his side. "You may need more mobility, Nathan. I will just have to raise illusions should any doctors come calling." She stretched out a hand in his direction. Nathan jumped, then straightened as a familiar numbing warmth spread through his shoulder and side.

"Wha--"

Bridgette sighed, then moved to one side of the room, carefully moving a few chairs back out of the way. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as we can be," Zoë said sarcastically.

Bridgette sighed, but nodded. "Then stand back. These kinds of gates--" She stopped and shook her head, biting her lip. Nathan put his arm around Molly's shoulders and drew her back with him. Darien and the others also, backed up. Malcolm stared for a moment, then joined them, though his silver eyes were fixed on Bri's movements.

Bridgette raised her hands, her wings spreading out with a faint chiming sound. Her whole form was outlined in multi-colored lights for a moment, then the light began to peel off of her in threads, moving to weave into a perfect oval shape about a foot in front of her. Through all of this, a faint hint of music filled the air. Finally, the view of the wall through the center of the loop was replaced with an oval of pure darkness. The lights lining her faded, and Bridgette lowered her hands, her wings folding back down. "You'd better light those torches, Jared."

* * * * * * * *

return to Index / go to Chapter 7

The Nephrite and Naru Treasury