A Whiff of Brimstone

This story is part of an Altaverse based on "Bite Me" and "The Fonder Heart." It can be found, along with other such stories, at The Realms of the Xenaverse, under Blood and Roses. To sum up the most pertinent details, Xena is Ares' Daughter and Gabrielle is Bacchus' Daughter... and they're involved romantically... although not directly in this particular story. It takes place after (and assumes you have knowledge of) "The Fonder Heart" in B&R continuity, and occurs directly prior to the events in the yet to be completed "Buffy : the Vampire Slayer" crossover that I'm going to write... eventually.

Ownership Disclaimer : This work uses characters from the TV series "Xena : Warrior Princess" and "Brimstone," among others, which are used without permission. No profit is sought, and this work is only intended for entertainment reasons. In addition, elements from a few other TV series are mentioned and I have no right to them, either. Unfortunately. Merchandising rights would be really swell...

Spoilers : Brimstone : Info about Ashur Badaktu and general information about the show and plot. Note that because several different versions of Ash's backstory have been given by the show/staff, the one I used to write this story may not fit some of the details revealed in some episodes. Still, there's nothing too excessive by way of spoilers. Xena : Odds and ends, mostly about the relationships of mortals with the gods, and a little from "Mortal Beloved," but nothing significant from any other episode, although an alternative view of elements depicted in the Hercules episode "Yes Virginia, There Is A Hercules," is detailed.

Xenite Disclaimer : Gabrielle's distrust of the gods was not harmed in the production of this work.

Gabrielle frowned as she stepped off the plane, stretching mightily until she felt her spine resettle itself into a position approximating her normal one. It had been a very long flight.

The flight in to LAX had been packed; every seat had been taken, so she'd been forced to suffer for hours, wedged between two obese businessmen. Despite the armrests dividing the seats, they'd both overflowed their seats well into her own, squeezing her horribly despite her own slight stature.

Sighing, the former bard sidestepped out of the slow moving stream of disembarking passengers and dug into her shoulder bag, searching for her confirmation letter from the rental car agency. After juggling her bag with one arm and searching with the other, she finally managed to find the crumpled yellow scrap of paper hiding under the folder containing her job application. Closing her bag with an overly firm tug on the zipper, she exhaled heavily and rejoined the flow of bodies down the concourse. At least one thing was going right.

She'd have to remember to talk to Steph about the flight, she mused. Family or no, and necessary back trail or no, not even maintaining a minimal cover story was worth the indignity of being drooled on by two drunken losers - and she really wanted to express her thanks for the necessity.

Suppressing a snicker, Gabrielle could just picture her great-great-great granddaughter's face. Already she could feel her irritation beginning to fade as she mentally began revising her tale of woe to evoke the most sympathy - not that a story about this flight needed much creative editing. Once she described Al's (the drunken loser from Miami - the other one was from Boston) pick-up routine, her descendant wouldn't know whether to laugh or cry. His attempts at seduction had been old when Gabrielle was young - and that was a very long time ago. Though to be fair to the man, he hadn't leered at her décolletage too obviously. Well no... come to think of it, he had, but at least he hadn't drooled... Well... Gabrielle snickered. Steph wouldn't know whether to beg her for forgiveness, or simply break out laughing.

Smirking as her natural ebullience began to reassert itself, Gabrielle increased her speed. She needed to reclaim her bags and get on the road, and standing around wouldn't help her make up for the lost time. Sunnydale was fairly close to LA, but her flight had been late... and being late for her appointment with the principal of the school at which she was applying was not a good way to convince him to hire her.

Nearing a set of escalators, she stopped short, drawing a muttered stream of profanity from the lips of the weary travellers trudging behind her as they were forced to dodge her suddenly unmoving form. A brief chill ran up her spine, the odd feeling sending a shiver through her and raising goosebumps along the length of her arms. Her sensitive nostrils began to twitch as a faint, peculiar odor reached them, despite the heavy scent of innumerable sweating bodies in the close quarters. Something was definitely amiss...

Stepping once more out of the flow of traffic, much to the irritated travellers' relief, she looked cautiously about. What was that? she wondered silently.

Eyes narrowing in concentration, Gabrielle turned on her heel and started back the way she had come, her eyes slowly passing over the faces of the people surrounding her. Nothing and no one seemed unusual. Not for LA, anyway.

Perhaps it was just her nerves, she reasoned. It had been a year or two - or over a hundred - since she'd attempted a masquerade as complicated as the one she was planning to engage in. She had every right to be a little nervous, she attempted to reassure herself. Considering the tangled morass of her recent reunion with Xena and it was a wonder she wasn't even twitchier than she was already.

The mere thought of her warrior's return was enough to bring a smile back to her face, seeming to illuminate it from within with her resurgent joy. Sadly, shadows remained in the depths of her verdant eyes despite her pleasure at the reunion.

That Xena had returned was undeniable. That she had returned as a drug-addicted hooker, let alone one with numerous half healed wounds, she could easily dismiss as irrelevant. Just having her back was blessing enough.

It was another, related matter that troubled her. No matter how much she attempted to dismiss the thought, it lingered : the exact mechanism for Xena's return remained unknown. Though Gabrielle rejoiced every moment in Xena's long wished for, yet seemingly impossible return to her, the lingering mystery of the means cast a subtle pall over the joy of their reunion.

Perhaps it was simply that, the lingering uncertainty, or, for that matter, simply being without Xena once more - despite the medical necessity of that separation - that had disturbed her equanimity, she thought.

It was probably for the best, Gabrielle attempted to convince herself. California was rather more liberal than many states, but bringing her girlfriend to the job interview might have been pushing it. After all, "arrogant," "close-minded," and "toad- like," were the three primary descriptors she'd heard most ascribed to her prospective boss.

She was worrying for nothing, she firmly told herself. Everything was fine. She almost believed herself when she saw her.

The woman was fairly short, barely taller than herself, with short, straight blonde hair. She was nicely dressed; her stylish pantsuit was a casual beige, and she wore comfortable brown flats on her feet. She would have looked like virtually every other professional woman walking on the concourse, were it not for two things : her lack of baggage, and the bulge of the heavy dagger weighing down her jacket's side pocket.

Brows lowering as she focused all her attention on the woman, Gabrielle watched her walk unconcernedly down the concourse. Despite her apparent normality, something was... unusual about her, besides the odd aroma she seemed to exude. Still not wholly convinced she needed to intercede, Gabrielle continued her surveillance, seeking something to clarify matters.

As she watched, the mystery only deepened. The first thing Gabrielle noticed was odd was that the people in her path automatically stepped out of her way as she walked - not even mumbling a comment under their breath about the delay, even those who had to stop completely to let her pass. The second - and more telling - thing she noted was that though she walked directly in front of a security guard, he didn't comment either... even after his eyes clearly passed over the tell-tale bulge in her coat.

Something was seriously out of whack, Gabrielle thought, even given that she was in LA. How could such an obviously armed woman get this far into the bowels of the airport, and what was it about her that had so disturbed her in the first place? Following the woman at a discrete distance, Gabrielle began to trail her as cautiously as she could.

As she walked, Gabrielle's mind worked furiously, attempting to unravel the knot of contradictions that surrounded the conspicuously inconspicuous woman. Unfortunately, she could find no rational solution to the puzzles the woman presented.

Her efforts at stealth in her subtle pursuit were mostly wasted. Most of the techniques she knew for evading suspicion were severely hampered by the crowds, and several were impossible to even attempt, let alone execute. She had to duck between and around people rushing to make their flights, and often wove in and out of small clusters of travellers, which hindered her attempts to remain unnoticed.

The problems came to a head when the woman glanced around with exaggerated unconcern, though the hand that she unconsciously dropped into her pocket (to rest atop the concealed knife) belied that ease. Gabrielle was forced to dodge behind a uniformed pilot and actually hide behind the bulk of his body. Could she have sensed her pursuit? Gabrielle wondered, peeking around the bemused man. No, she realized a moment later, as the woman determinedly resumed her course, she was just careful.

Sidestepping the pilot and thanking him with a brilliant smile, Gabrielle resumed her hunt. Gauging the woman's path, she quickly identified her destination. Considering the woman ignored normal traffic flows, walking straight towards her goal it was hardly difficult. She was heading directly for a gate that was deserted - and had no flight information posted, besides. That she was able to do this in the crush of humanity was yet another marvel - the flood of people continued to part in front of her without protest, and indeed, almost without even being conscious that they had done so.

Gabrielle was firmly convinced that there was far more to the woman than was readily apparent - but was remained unconvinced she needed to respond. Her unusual destination was simply another, only comparatively minor element of her strangeness, but still one that tickled her mind as being worthy of consideration.

As the woman neared the deserted gate, Gabrielle was able to see the huddled form of a man curled up underneath one of the rows of seats, fast asleep with his head pillowed on a valise. Unusual maybe, but not uncommon for such a congested, busy airport.

Turning her attention back to the woman she was tailing, she was momentarily startled, making her skip a step. The grin that briefly crossed the woman's face was vicious and predatory, and when the hand she'd slipped into her pocket visibly clenched on the hilt of the concealed dagger, her intentions, finally, seemed clear. Even if she was a purely human monster, Gabrielle had to act.

Shaking off the brief shock from the materialization of the sudden threat, Gabrielle leapt into the middle of the confrontation. Tapping into her power to lend wings to her feet, the daughter of Bacchus reached the woman's side in a fraction of a second and grabbed her wrist with the speed of a striking serpent - a metaphor that she'd later remember with some irony for its aptness. "I don't think you want to do that," Gabrielle told the woman, her eyes cold.

The woman was shocked into stillness by Gabrielle's action. Cloaked in an illusion that camouflaged her physical transformation in a seeming of normality, warded by charms of protection and inconspicuousness, she should have been virtually invisible to everyone. Snarling as anger began to replace her startlement, she spun to face Gabrielle, actually managing to pull away from her powerful restraining grip. "Let go of me," she spat, jerking her arm free. The tip of the dagger cut her pocket as she raised it menacingly, the glittering edge of the Damascus steel blade slicing cleanly through the fabric.

Gabrielle almost smiled at the threat. It had been years since someone had held a dagger to her throat, but the sheer familiarity of the anachronistic threat caused a brief wave of nostalgia to wash over her. Who would have ever thought she'd enjoy something like this? She did, though... it was just too familiar a situation for her to be overly concerned by it. Why, in her youth, hardly a week went by without finding herself in a similar predicament...

Despite her amusement and momentary reminiscence, she remained warily alert for the coming attack. Familiar or no, she'd been in this situation far too many times, both before and after she'd embraced her heritage, not to know how to take care of herself.

"Is there a problem, sir?" an authoritative voice interrupted the momentary standoff, the words unnaturally loud and precise in the dead air of the deserted gate.

Spinning, the two women turned to face the security officer. Attempting to conceal the visible indications of the aborted conflict, they ignored their opponent as they prepared to deal with the more immediate threat.

The habit of centuries of life made Gabrielle extremely wary of official notice - even by a simple security guard. Her unusual lifestyle and background (not to mention her failure to age) were hard to hide under close scrutiny, and by now caution was so ingrained as to habitual. As she turned, Gabrielle backed away from the other woman and shifted her balance, making herself less obviously poised for an attack.

The other woman was likewise seeking to avoid suspicion, though she did so in a quite different way. Mumbling a prayer to her goddess under her breath, she reinforced her illusory cloak, ensuring that her customary domino remained unseen - having her "true" form get arrested in an airport would be so inconvenient. She slipped her dagger back into her pocket, the move swifter than the mortal eye could follow, and set her face in the most wide-eyed, innocent expression she could muster.

"No," the two answered the guard, speaking in unison after they'd completed their swift alterations. Like their words, their expressions were virtually interchangeable, perfect masks of surprised curiosity at being accosted by the guard.

Silently, although she maintained her expression, Gabrielle began to wonder as the guard's phrasing lingered in her mind. Why had he said "Sir"? They were both female...

Scowling, the officer slowly nodded in response to their calm air of innocence, clearly disbelieving it. He did move his hand away from his baton, and that was a positive sign.

"All right," he began, his lingering suspicion obvious. "Look, mister," he began, stepping forward and staring the woman in the eyes while pointing an accusing finger at her well developed bosom. "Men who beat up women are just about the lowest form of filth on the planet... and I love to keep this place clean. You understand me?"

"Of course," the woman answered, blithely ignoring the incorrect gender usage. At least that explained his involvement, she realized. The illusion had hidden her blade, but he must have seen and reacted to her - or more precisely the illusory "his" - upraised hand threatening the woman. She would have to be more judicious in the future, she told herself silently, if she was going to rely on lesser illusions to disguise herself.

"Good," the guard growled. "Straighten up your act... I'm gonna keep my eye on you." Pausing by Gabrielle, he whispered, too quietly for the "man" he'd just upbraided to hear, "If you need help, just see one of the guards. We can handle any problems, and we'll see that you get someplace safe - someplace where he can't threaten you anymore."

Gabrielle thanked him, touched by the gesture and the care, even if it was misplaced in her case. The two women watched him walk away, waving politely when he turned back to cast a watchful eye at them again.

Gabrielle smiled once more at the alert guard, then turned back to face the other woman, a scowl instantly replacing her grateful grin.

For her part, the woman was turning back to Gabrielle, but was distracted when she noted her target's disappearance. The sleeping man had obviously awoken during the confrontation and fled. Angered, she barked a profanity in a language unfamiliar to Gabrielle. She'd tracked the man for months, she cursed bitterly, and now the effort had been wasted. Worse, he was now warned of her interest. He'd be even harder to track down the next time she pursued him.

"You and I need to have a talk," Gabrielle informed her resolutely, unflinching despite the anger radiating from the woman's frame.

Nothing was going right today, the woman bemoaned silently, and the cause was still right beside her. Sighing in frustration at her intended prey's disappearance, the woman turned and looked deeply into Gabrielle's eyes. "Do we?" she mocked Gabrielle's resolve, "What do we possibly have to talk about?" she asked, feigning annoyed innocence.

"How about telling me about the dagger... and why that nice security officer thought you were an unarmed man, rather than an armed woman?"

"You can see m..." the startled woman began, then stopped, clearly disconcerted by the revelation. She could see through her illusion, the woman realized, and - frightening thought - perhaps even her underlying transformation. She'd assumed she'd reacted to the illusion in a similar manner to the guard, but... Her spell had been working - the guard's words were proof of that - yet this woman was wholly unaffected. Curious... even if it was a lesser illusion, the minor magics had unusual potency these days.

"Yes," she mused, her eyes considering the slight woman standing before her, attempting to gauge her power. "Maybe we should talk after all..." she trailed off, then in a wrenchingly sudden mood shift, asked cheerily, "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Oh, I'd love some," Gabrielle responded, her eyes cold despite the warmth in her voice as she accepted the offer. "Lead the way." The woman's eyes narrowed momentarily, but she grudgingly acceded to Gabrielle's wishes.

A sudden thought made the woman smirk once she had turned away. "It's not like she can physically harm me from behind - my eyes are in front." Although she was physically safe from any attack, her ability to penetrate illusions was still troubling.

Unseen, the woman's smile grew slightly more wary as her eyes widened, implications running through her mind as she began to reconsider her flippancy. Perhaps leading the way would be best, she realized suddenly, Gabrielle's apparent ability to pierce the fabric of her illusions still looming in her mind. The walk would provide an excellent opportunity to test the extent of her power...

Gabrielle could see the woman's unwillingness to turn her back on her, but her obvious curiosity about the woman who had confronted her soon won out. She turned, and although her back muscles visibly tensed under her jacket, she calmly led the way down the concourse towards a coffee stand, weaving among the clumps and flows of people.

This time, Gabrielle was even more wary than she had been while attempting to remain unseen by the woman. True, she had the advantageous position, but in the crush of people that advantage was fleeting at best, and the need to keep bystanders safe made her situation even more precarious.

They were almost to the coffee stand when the woman made her move. Ducking into a crowd of Japanese tourists as they streamed from one of the gates, her outline blurred as her body became indistinct. Not invisible - Gabrielle could still see her, even if she was fuzzy around the edges - but blending into the crowd. At her feet, a serpentine cylinder of smoky blue-white energy slithered around the pedestrians' feet, continuing down the concourse. The translucent woman stepped aside and altered her path, and would have continued walking away on her new course, had not Gabrielle grabbed her arm.

To Gabrielle's great surprise, the woman seemed almost pleased to have been caught in her deception. She actually smiled at the demigoddess as the blurring flickered out. "But this is wonderful," she enthused. "Now we really must talk." Smiling, she attempted to reassure Gabrielle, "No more tricks... and I'll even pay for the coffee." Ignoring the slightly more baleful eye Gabrielle was casting her way, she then proceeded to do just that.

The clerk called her "ma'am," Gabrielle noticed, even as she looked for a table. In a coincidence that bordered on the miraculous, Gabrielle was able to find an open table, and the woman soon joined her, bearing two steaming cups and a palmful of cream and sugar containers.

Smiling her thanks, Gabrielle sipped her drink, then settled in to watch the woman sitting across the table from her. She was as unremarkable seeming as she'd been before, but as she looked more closely, she realized there was still something... odd about her. It was nothing she could pinpoint to a definite source, like the unusual odor she exuded, nothing that she could point to as justification for her sense of something being wrong with her, she was just... odd.

The woman was performing her own appraisal, looking over Gabrielle just as intently as she was being appraised. How could she penetrate her best illusions so easily? A confusing maelstrom of emotions began swirling inside her, including a surprising amount of pain, as a thought struck her with an almost physical intensity. Had Ezekiel failed? Had he been sent back to Hell as punishment for his failure, and been replaced?

No, she reasoned, regaining control of her emotions with an effort. Her blouse was thin enough that she would have been able to see the names of the escaped through it. The tattooed runes that covered Stone's upper body were absent from this woman, though perhaps she had them located elsewhere.

She must be another escapee, the woman mused, one who had fled later. Perhaps one who had been incarcerated there even longer than she, if she was powerful enough to be unaffected by her spells...

The woman had settled herself and seemed content to silently sip her coffee, but Gabrielle had an appointment. "So," Gabrielle began, after the silence had lengthened uncomfortably. "Let's start simply. Who are you and why were you going to kill that man?"

She showed no more reaction than if she had been asked about the weather. Finally, after taking another small sip, she answered in a casual, even friendly tone, "Who am I?" She paused, her nose crinkling cutely as she smiled, then answered, "You can call me Ash."

"Ash, hmm?" Gabrielle mused, weighing her body language. "And the other question?"

Ash actually looked amused at the question, smiling over the lip of her cup. "Just business." Waving her hand she casually dismissed her planned killing of the man as unimportant. "I can always find him later. You, on the other hand, I find utterly fascinating."

"Do you?" Gabrielle retorted, matching her smile, though not relaxing her vigilance. "How so?"

"Simple." Admitting nothing, she explained vaguely, "You see me as I am... not as I appear. That's a rare talent, and one that may prove valuable to me in my... work." She sipped her coffee, eyes growing curious as she considered testing the limits of Gabrielle's powers. "Tell me... what do I look like now?" Closing her eyes momentarily, she whispered a prayer to her goddess, weaving the energies around her with mental fingers into a slightly different configuration, enveloping herself in another illusion.

There was something different about her now, but Gabrielle couldn't quite pin down what it was. Seeing that this "Ash" was waiting for an answer, she considered her possible answers, then simply told the truth. "There's something different about you now, though I can't really see any difference. Why?"

Ash's pleasure at this was plain. She dissolved her illusory transformation - the source of the gender confusion and the root of her ability to hide in plain sight - and gushed in genuine delight. "How wonderful! But I don't remember you from before... Tell me, were you part of the 113, or did you break free on your own?"

Neither question made sense to Gabrielle, and her blank expression (despite her attempt to cloak her uncertainty) was readily visible. Her confusion only grew as Ash reacted to her silence. Her reaction was quite different from anything the former bard had expected. She was simply staring... at her neck?

Leaning across the table, without warning Ash stuck her hand down the front of Gabrielle's blouse and laid her palm against her heart, feeling the way it beat beneath her skin.

Gabrielle's eyes widened, and she could feel her skin flush, but she showed no other visible reaction. "Not that I really mind - you are kind of cute, but shouldn't you at least tell me your real name before you do something like that?" she asked, a mixture of amusement and irritation coloring her voice.

"You have a heartbeat," Ash whispered, more to herself than to Gabrielle, pulling her hand back and staring at the small woman. Uncertainty entered her expression for the first time since the confrontation began as her assumptions were proved false, and she unconsciously leaned away from the living woman. She knew now that she was not another escapee - the damned were dead; even if they had escaped from hell, they were still dead and hence had no heartbeat. What is this woman? she wondered silently, fear beginning to rise within her. How can she pierce my illusions if she is still alive?

Eyes widening slightly at the woman's odd comment and not being privy to her thoughts, Gabrielle couldn't help but reply with slightly amused sarcasm. "Yes... I do. It's one of those little inconveniences we have to put up with while we're alive." One corner of her lips turned up as she attempted to read Ash's turbulent emotional state.

Setting aside her coffee, Ash leaned back in her chair and examined Gabrielle minutely, eyes alight with wary curiosity. "Forgive me, if I was too forward," she finally said, leaning towards her in a conspiratorial manner. "I was a bit startled." Eyes still cautious, she continued, "But you're right... I suppose I should introduce myself. My name," she began, her tone formal as she straightened in her chair, "is Ashur Badaktu," she finished, watching her reaction to the revelation closely. "Though again, you may call me Ash."

"Interesting name," Gabrielle nodded in acknowledgement, weighing the formality of her posture. "Sounds Sumerian."

A peculiar smile crossed Ashur's face. "Close. I'm from Ugarit."

That revelation visibly set Gabrielle aback. "Ugarit..." she murmured. That city had been destroyed thousands of years ago. Shaking her head at the implausibility of Ash's city of origin - yet not the impossibility, as she herself could attest having once been there herself - she commented only, "That name certainly brings back some memories." She gave a half laugh at the surprised confusion on the woman's face and explained, "I passed through Ugarit once or twice. The last time I was there was when we stopped to rest on our way to visit Queen Nebula in Sumeria."

"The Pirate Queen?"

Gabrielle smiled fondly in memory. "She didn't like to be called that, but yes."

"But... but Nebula was only a myth! And an obscure one at that. How..."

"Oh no," Gabrielle responded quickly, "she was quite real. But it was a very long time ago. Almost five thousand years, in fact... how time flies," she murmured to herself.

Ash watched her reminisce for a moment, eyes narrowing as she weighed her reaction. Her heartbeat conclusively proved she wasn't an escapee. She was alive... Alive, if she was to be believed, despite being even older than she. "Who are you?" she finally asked, unsure of her credibility, but unwilling to directly confront her without additional proof.

Chuckling slightly, Gabrielle offered a test of her own. "Sorry. Where are my manners? I'm Gabrielle... originally of Potadaiea." While not exactly famous, her name was known to many of the various powers of the world. Ash's reaction - if any - to her name would prove illuminating to her allegiances.

Unfortunately, the effort was wasted. Ash simply nodded, her face revealing nothing.

Bypassing her original question, since Ash had not been forthcoming about it, Gabrielle turned to a slightly different angle for her interrogation. "Interesting tricks... that snake, the illusions - that's what they were, right? How is it you can do these things, let alone be from a city destroyed ages ago?"

Ash's eyes narrowed. Gabrielle's ability to see through her spells implied she was more powerful than she, but that was not necessarily the case, she realized as she considered the situation more objectively. She could simply be immune to illusion. For that matter, she seemed to be wholly ignorant of her nature and of the breakout from the underworld.

Seeing no reason to betray her own vulnerabilities, she instead offered only a partial truth. "In the old days, before the fall of Ugarit and the blossoming of the following of the One God, I was the high priestess of Asherah and a sacred consort of El. The gods blessed me, and..." She spread her arms, holding them palms up, as though to conclude, "and here I am."

"Did they?" Gabrielle mused aloud. Perhaps she had some divine blood running through her veins as well. Whether she was semidivine or not, her explanation did explain the energy snake she'd seen, and her mesmeric powers. A true priestess, let alone one who was an intimate of the gods, was sometimes blessed or cursed with unique powers.

It was an explanation, Gabrielle understood, but still it was incomplete. Consequently, she responded in kind. "I suppose you can consider me the high priestess of Artemis." That much was certainly true. She was her Chosen and was certainly her oldest surviving priestess, even if she didn't perform many ceremonies... not in public, anyway.

Ash set aside her cup and looked deeply into Gabrielle's eyes, seeking any falsehood in her casual response. The escapees knew the truth in the expression, "The eyes are the windows to the soul," and she believed more than most - even when she had trouble believing what they revealed. "You're telling the truth," she murmured, incredulously. To her great surprise, Gabrielle's green-hazel eyes were clear of guile, though shadowed - weighted, as though by great age.

"Of course," Gabrielle responded, feeling only slightly guilty at misleading her. She was telling the truth... just not all, or even most of it.

"Then you know..." Ash began, feeling a surge of hope rising within her. She ruthlessly tamped it down and forced herself to concentrate solely on being persuasive. A fellow priestess, she realized - even one from the land now known as Greece - could be an invaluable ally in her undertaking - or a great enemy. She also knew she had to be careful not to reveal too much of her own condition in the process. She was well aware of her unique vulnerability, and if she failed or was betrayed, her cause would die aborning.

"Know?"

"Know what it means to have your world destroyed... to have your gods laid low, your city burned, and your peoples destroyed," Ash bit out, bile rising in her soul along with the memories, despite her resolve.

"What?" Gabrielle asked, startled by the woman's vehemence and venom.

"Gabrielle," Ash began, resting a hand atop one of Gabrielle's. "You know what it was like, in the days before the coming of the One God... you know of the lies, and the deceptions perpetrated by His priests as they wiped out the old ways, replacing them with their... their... tyranny."

Religious zealotry, Gabrielle sighed. She'd seen it many times before in her life, yet it always seemed to take her by surprise. With a sinking feeling she was suddenly uncomfortably sure she knew exactly what Ash's motivation and goals were.

She'd travelled the world and been exposed to many pantheons, faiths, and even met a fair number of gods, yet she was still constantly amazed by the vileness that fanatical obsession and an unwillingness to accept others' faiths could lead people to perpetrate. Even the most friendly and well-adjusted of people could fall prey to the siren lure of fanaticism, and when other problems - like the voices that had whispered in Najara's head - existed as well... Horrors rivaling Ares' worst excesses were unleashed.

History was filled with evils wrought in the name of the "one true" religion - no matter which one was thought to be the true one. "Suffer not a witch to live," "God is with us," "Burn the papists," "Set must be defeated," "The cult of Aten is a heresy," and thousands of like slogans had been crafted over the years in attempts to mask the evils perpetrated under the shielding banner of divine will, and thousands more would likely arise to bedevil mankind in the future, cloaking evil in the mantle of good and giving rise to still more horrors.

Gabrielle wanted none of it.

"That was a long, long time ago," Gabrielle tried to soothe the woman, compassion warm in her voice, "and the ones who caused the destruction and evil are surely paying for their crimes in the underworld. It's time to let the pain and the hate go. To break the cycle of vengeance.

"Look... Ashur," Gabrielle paused, considering her response and attempting to couch it in the most persuasive terms. "The world has changed."

Ash's eyes narrowed and her expression grew more guarded, but she didn't interrupt.

"Powers shift, hierarchies collapse, gods rise and fall... nothing is in stasis," Gabrielle tried to explain. "Once, Gaia ruled, then her children overthrew her, followed by the Titans in turn, until the Olympians arose, and other gods had dominance in other lands. But now is the era of the One God, and nothing you or I can do will change that. Honor the old days... but don't think you can bring them back."

Now that she'd crushed her dream, Gabrielle felt compelled to offer Ash a crumb of hope. If she could prevent another "holy" war... "Listen, don't despair; the old ones aren't gone entirely - I'm living proof of that - but too much has changed..." She trailed off as Ash remained obviously unswayed by her attempts at reason.

Ash remained mute, simply staring at the now silent Gabrielle. Forget her dream? Forget the great work - the goal for which she'd striven for millennia, finally escaping from the taloned grasp of the devil himself in her quest to undermine the One God's faith... Never!

"You... a priestess... you've abandoned your faith to follow the One God?" she asked, incredulously - unable to believe a high priestess would sink so low.

"No. There's too much of the Olympians in me," Gabrielle denied firmly, the ironic truth of her words bringing a half-smile to her lips, "for me to abandon them entirely, but my faith is my own. Besides, they are too restricted in this new era to do much proselytizing." Gabrielle had to suppress a snicker at that, remembering Hercules portraying himself on that stupid TV show - and the half-truths he revealed about the internal politics of Olympus. "Though there are more of the old gods lingering about than you might expect. Did your pantheon survive?"

That question set Ash aback - it was something that honestly hadn't occurred to her. "What?"

"When the power... shifts, and gods lose their grip on a plane, things happen to them. They can fade away entirely, become mere mortals, simply leave this dimension for more convivial locations, or even... Even gods can die, Ash. The Sumerian gods died, the Druids - the original ones, not the later nature cult that bore the same name, some of the Celtic ones like Kernunnos... Does The Lady of the Sea yet live?"

"I... I..." Ash didn't quite know how to respond. She'd prayed many times for succor, both while in Hell and after she'd escaped, but had received no direct communication in response, though she'd continued to find comfort in performing the rituals. Her magic continued to work though, and that offered some hope. "I worshipped her in her aspect as the Serpent Queen, not..." she paused, unwilling to reveal too much, "I don't know," she whispered.

"Perhaps you should speak with her. Asherah may be able to comfort you."

Ash felt like she was losing her grip on reality. For a brief instant she longed to know the touch of her goddess once more, but that feeling soon passed. For millennia she'd suffered the torments of the One God's Hell, suffering for her faith, comforted only by the belief that she would one day find a way to escape and destroy His world as her own had been, and now this... this... Gabrielle wanted her to simply forget the evils done to her and be "comforted?" NEVER!

Breathing heavily, Ash narrowed her eyes. A slight flicker and they became ophidian and yellow, the pupils elongating into snake-like slits. A smear of red, the color of fresh blood, appeared on her face as her transformation faded away, leaving her in her true form. Her mane of tangled black hair framed her face while the kohl surrounding her eyes made them appear huge in her pale face. Her skintight leather body suit, dappled with a serpent scale pattern, shimmered under the fluorescent lighting. "Do not oppose me, Gabrielle," she hissed softly, "I am not without power." The table began to smoke under her hand as she loosed some of the infernal essence trapped within her.

Gabrielle made no visible move, though she narrowed her own eyes in turn. The color of her skin faded away, leaving it the white of new fallen snow. When she blinked her eyes an instant later, her irises had turned yellow, with a ring of blood red around the outside. "Nor am I," she informed Ash calmly. A corner of her mouth slowly tilted up, allowing the point of a fang to show against the carmine of her lips.

Ash's eyes widened at the metamorphosis, her snake-like pupils narrowing as a nictitating membrane darted across her eyes.

"Are we done posturing for each other now?" Gabrielle asked, allowing her transformation to slowly reverse itself. "Then listen closely to me. I have no interest in joining you, and your plan is doomed to fail. The world has changed, and there is nothing we can do to reverse it. I'd suggest you accept that fact, and deal with it, rather than waste your life pining for what you can't have."

Waste her life? Her life... If only Gabrielle knew the bitter truth, Ash mocked Gabrielle's words silently, she wouldn't feel so self-assured and righteous. She knew full well she might not be able to bring back the old gods, but at least she could bring down the One God's smug priests, the spiritual descendants of those who had preached hypocritically about peace while they were destroying her world... and with their fall would collapse the faith that had built the One God's empire on earth.

"Never!" she proclaimed, gathering her power about her. There was a flicker of light, and she was gone, leaving only a small brown snake curled on the hard plastic of her chair, and a smoking handprint melted into the laminate of the tabletop.

Gabrielle's eyes widened as she watched the snake slip to the ground, the brown scales blending into the dark carpeting. The snake paused long enough to hiss evilly in the demigoddess' direction, then darted across the floor and into a crack in the wall, disappearing into the darkness beyond.

"Don't worry about Ash," a pleasant male voice told her.

Spinning, Gabrielle was shocked to see a rather tall man with longish hair sitting in Ash's abandoned chair. She hadn't sensed him approaching at all, nor heard him sit down.

"She's my responsibility, Gabrielle, and believe me, I have one of my best men on it." A sly smile briefly crossed his lips as he glanced over her shoulder in the direction the snake had gone, then took a sip from Ash's abandoned cup of coffee.

"You know me?" Gabrielle asked curiously. Her skin was still abnormally pale and her eyes were still yellow, yet he showed no reaction.

"We've never met, though I've heard lots of stories about you. Why, I was talking to your father just the other day, and he..."

Gabrielle's snort of disbelief cut him off. "I sincerely doubt that," she bluntly informed him.

"Oh?" the man actually looked amused at her reaction. "Just because," he paused and held two fingers up near his forehead like a pair of horns, "he doesn't come around the mortal coil much doesn't mean that he's gone entirely. And he throws some of the best parties... You know, those bacchae of his are some really fantastic dancers."

"This is quite the day for meetings it seems," Gabrielle muttered, still shaking her head at missing his approach. She was mollified by his revelation of divine acquaintances - even if it was with her sire, Bacchus - but she still felt dismayed at not hearing him. "And you are?" she raised an eyebrow in polite inquiry.

"Pleased to meet you. I'd hoped you guessed my name." He smiled toothily as though he had made a great joke, but when Gabrielle simply looked blank, he sighed and muttered under his breath, "Perhaps it's too recent a reference. Ezekiel will surely get it." Raising his voice slightly, he told her, "Call me Lucifer."

Gabrielle's brows raised as she contemplated the introduction. "Overseer of the One God's underworld?"

"That's one way of looking at it." His smile was wide, and revealed perfect, shiny teeth.

Looking him over closely, she was unimpressed with his appearance. "Hades dresses better," she bluntly informed him.

The devil laughed in honest enjoyment of her tart and irreverent attitude. "I quite agree, but you must admit walking around the modern world in plate armor, no matter how stylish, isn't the most... inconspicuous manner of travel. Though I do admire that helmet..."

To her great surprise, Gabrielle found she was actually enjoying his company... a truly unsettling realization. "About Ash..." she began, not quite sure how to frame the questions her confrontation had left buzzing in her mind.

"Yes, our dear Ash... You know, she was surprisingly truthful. She left out a great deal, mind you, but what she told you was nearly accurate."

"What did she mean by... 'escaped?'" Gabrielle asked, seeing an opening.

For a moment, it didn't look like the Devil was going to answer, but after a brief hesitation, he slowly answered, "She led a group of escapees in a breakout from Hell."

"Like Atyminius? But that's impossible. She was solid... once a soul is judged, even if they escape from the underworld, they're merely bodiless shades."

Waggling his finger in admonishment, the devil smirked. "Now, now. Remember what you were telling Ash? Times change. Besides, my realm is not quite the same as Hades'. It has... unusual effects on the souls that are in my care for extended periods of time."

That was a startling revelation. One of the fundamental precepts she'd accepted as a fact for most of her life had just been cut off at the knees.

"No," he continued, "trust me, Ashur Badaktu is quite dead and will remain that way... though hopefully she won't be walking around for much longer."

"She seemed so... dedicated, even if she was..."

"Don't waste your sympathy on her, Gabrielle," the devil warned. "Believe me, the universe doesn't make mistakes when it comes to assigning a person's final destination. She is where she should be... or at least she was before her escape."

"Really? But Hades relented in his judgement in several cases. If a person can change, couldn't you alter the judgement on a soul?"

His smile was decidedly strange - and unfriendly. "Apples to orange, my dear Gabrielle. Apples to oranges. Remember... times change."

Lucifer's smile widened, becoming much more friendly. "Though I must admit, I do like Hades' style. Some of the torments he devised..." he closed his eyes and looked off into space, seemingly savoring the punishments of the damned, "The fates of Sisyphus and Tantalus... sheer beauty. Irony is so hard to work into a proper punishment, you know? You just don't see craftsmanship like that anymore. Why, I've even consulted with him a few times over the years. There was this German fellow a few years back, I'm sure you've heard of him..."

"You didn't answer my question," Gabrielle pointed out, interrupting the anecdote.

"Ah. Yes," the devil murmured. "Well... how shall I put this... Let's simply say that I have a role to perform, and if I'm a trifle more active in my encouragement in making sure souls end up going one direction rather than another, you can simply call it an idiosyncracy in my management style."

"Ares used much the same argument when he wanted something from me. It didn't convince me then, either."

"Ares," he tsked his tongue in amusement. "Now there's a truly naughty boy."

Gabrielle couldn't quite suppress a snicker at that characterization of the arrogant and prideful god of war. "Oh?" she asked, hoping he'd explain himself, even if it was a blatant attempt to change the subject.

Lucifer was quite happy to explain, leading the conversation off in a much less uncomfortable direction. "A little while back a group of rebels in Central America began making sacrifices to their god of war... the name eludes me at the moment, there's all those consonants in Quechua, it's so hard to remember. Anyway, Ares, who is really their war god, though in another guise you understand - quite bloodthirsty, that one, really - and became rather flushed with power. And do you know what he did with it?"

"What?" Gabrielle asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

"He caused an earthquake here in California. Can you believe it? Without even asking me! The sheer gall... as though he could simply ignore the universal laws governing free will and the exercise of power."

"So what happened?"

He waved his hands dismissively. "I had to speak rather severely to him about that, let me tell you. I was actually forced to allow intervention from the other side. So... Hercules ran around saving everyone who was in danger and he made Ares look foolish. As usual."

Raising his eyebrows he leaned in closer and dropped his voice, sounding for all the world like a gossiping old woman. "Oh! Can you believe Hercules? Even given the changes since the Olympians' time, running around pretending to be a mortal playing himself? And in those pants, too..."

Gabrielle snickered, her own opinion in the matter fairly close to his. "Well, like you said... with the limitations on the exercise of power, he has to find some way to keep busy."

"I suppose that's true. Compared to some he's a poster child for normalcy. I mean, have you seen Cupid lately? He's really let himself go. It's no wonder Psyche threw him out. If you can believe it, he's slumming here on the mortal plane too, causing all kinds of unrest." Shaking his head, he looked oddly disapproving. "It's really quite annoying."

"Really?" Gabrielle asked, her interest piqued. "How so?" Except for her prayers and occasional brief talks with Artemis, she hadn't really kept up with the doings of the gods. She found herself surprisingly intrigued.

"Well, like you said... times change. Now the mortal realm is more a... competition of sorts between myself and my father. Sometimes that means things have changed for the better, and sometimes..." He looked contemplative, his brows lowering as he rested his chin on his fists.

"Take for example death." He leaned forward, becoming more animated. "I'd be the first to admit it was far better in the old days. I mean 'Celesta' is a good name for the person in charge of death. It's formal, dignified, proper... and the whole candle and flowing robes look is just perfect. Now that's a good entity to handle death. Do you know who's the angel of death now? Andrew." He wrinkled his nose and looked disgusted. "What kind of a name for death is Andrew? I mean sure, he does the job, but it's hardly...stately." He shivered in melodramatic distaste.

Satisfied that Gabrielle had been adequately diverted from her original point, he shifted the direction of the conversation back to where he'd originally intended to take it. "But that's neither here nor there. I didn't really come to talk about how times have changed."

"Oh?" Gabrielle asked, her eyebrow rising again. She'd learned the habit from Xena, and even after centuries had passed, she'd yet to shed the mannerism. "Then why are you here?"

"To offer you a job."

"Right. Tell me another one," Gabrielle had to roll her eyes. Some things never changed.

Lucifer snickered, easily reading her thoughts. "Well, I really am an old friend of your father's, so I just thought I'd make the offer while you were here, but... No. Really, I just wanted to wish you luck in your coming endeavor."

"Luck?" she retorted, somewhat incredulously. "You wanted to wish me luck? Shouldn't you be wishing the opposite?"

"You wound me," he protested, holding his hands over his heart. "I have only the best of intentions." His smile reminded her where the road paved with good intentions was reputed to lead...

"Right..." she drawled, her disbelief plain.

"Now, now... let's not get personal. Believe me, no matter our disagreements, neither I nor my father want any outside competition. That was the whole reason why He made that treaty with Zeus after all."

"Your father being the One God, right?"

"Right. Now, let me see if I can explain." He concentrated for a moment, then explained, "No matter how entertaining He and I find the various entities, spirits, demons, devils, and odds and ends left over from the old days to watch, neither He nor I want any new players entering our gamefield. We like the situation as it is just fine, and don't want any... complications. Picture Dahak arriving in New York City. Now that would be a true horror, and he's hardly the worst of what's lurking out there, trying to get in."

That actually made sense. "So... you want me to shut down whatever's brewing in Sunnydale?"

He smiled winningly. "Nothing so grandiose. To do that would require a far, far more potent entity than you, my dear. Besides... free will, remember? It's just that there are a few too many... independents operating in that place lately. Most of them are fairly minor, though a few of the more potent ones are taking an interest as well. Even though you are another one who is independent of our little... contest, your presence there would be... shall we say, useful."

With a moment of realization that approached an epiphany, Gabrielle suddenly understood the Devil's interest in her plans. "You want me to... remove some of the players from the board," she stated, continuing his analogy. It wasn't a question, and she was definitely not pleased with her assessment of the situation.

"Now, now, don't look at me like that. I'm not asking you to kill anybody," the Devil protested. "Just do what you'd normally do. I have every confidence that you'll do the right thing." He smiled charmingly. "You know, Tataka was telling me just the other day what a nice soul you have. I'm quite happy to see that that's true."

A hint of Gabrielle's fang manifested itself, the tooth shockingly white against her crimson lip.

"Come on, don't be like that," he admonished, "It's unseemly to pout. She's really very nice once you get to know her."

"I know her too well already," Gabrielle growled.

The devil felt the silent approach of his "employee," as he described him, as the detective entered the concourse, and decided to conclude the conversation. It simply wouldn't do to have Ezekiel meet up with Gabrielle; he was far too independent an agent already, and she had an annoying habit of encouraging and reinforcing that trait in those around her.

Lucifer made a point of checking his watch and pointed out the time. "Not that I haven't enjoyed our little chat, but you really should get going." Tapping the watch face, he smiled politely, adding, "Wouldn't want you to be late for that appointment," while smiling brightly.

Suppressing a snarl, Gabrielle stalked away, out of sorts and unsure what, if anything, she should change in her plans. She'd lived a very long time, only partially aware of the shifting and realigning of the powers that truly ran the world, but their reality had just manifested itself before her - and much too concretely for her taste.

Nothing had changed, yet everything was different. She was still going to investigate Sunnydale, she was still going to help her descendant, but a small niggling uncertainty about her course remained in the back of her mind. Times changed, powers shift, hierarchies collapse, and gods rise and fall... but it looked like it was her destiny to always be a pawn to be bandied about in the hands of the gods, willing or un-.

The devil watched her mutter to herself as she left, her shoulders slightly slumped and her whole bearing conveying complete disgruntlement. He smiled in true satisfaction; sometimes the personal touch really did work best.

"So who was that?" a voice asked from behind him. "Someone new you're trying to lead off the straight and narrow?"

Smiling broadly, Lucifer turned and gestured Ezekiel Stone to the seat Gabrielle had vacated. "Not at all."

"So who was she?" Stone asked, gathering his trenchcoat about him as he sank into the chair.

"There are more things in heaven and earth, my dear Ezekiel, than are dreamed of in your philosophy." He smiled in secret delight at the detective, pleased with his progress in returning his lost souls, but wholly unwilling to inform him of that fact.

"You didn't answer my question," the detective pointed out.

"True... and you missed your target by almost a half hour. You're starting to slip, Ezekiel." His tone was chiding, but he continued smiling. Today was, after all, turning out to be a very enjoyable day.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me where he went?" Stone asked, exaggerated impatience coloring his voice.

"Oh, but that would be telling. Besides... I believe that's your job," the devil smiled.

Some days, Lucifer mused, he really loved his job.

The End

Author's Afterword : Following the changes in the theological construct underlying the Xenaverse revealed in the India episodes and the Iolaus-Dahak cycle on Herc, I had to make some changes in the way I viewed the Xenaverse's cosmology and how I planned to conclude Deus Ex Gabrielle. Some of the fallout from those changes is incorporated into this work. Not much action, to be sure, and it's yet another prequel to my Buffy story, but it does explore some areas very few other authors have covered.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with "Brimstone," it's the latest fatality of the cursed Friday at 8/7 central time slot on Fox. It's a great show, dealing with detective Ezekiel Stone's efforts to return 113 escapees from hell, with fine acting, great plots, and an imaginative storyline. John Glover is especially superb in his portrayal of the devil. Unfortunately, it's already been cancelled. Check here for more details, or for further info about the show.

One final note, about Ashur Badaktu's history : In her first appearance, Ash revealed herself as coming from Tyre, and claimed to worship "The Serpent Queen." The official site lists her as coming from Ugarit, and worshipping Asherah. Other discrepancies exist, so... I basically picked and chose among the details to find those that would suit my story better. Mea culpa. Just FYI.

- Chris