ForevaXena's FanFic . . .

Splinters Of The Soul by Diamonddog

Disclaimer: This is an original work of fanfiction copyright 2000 by me.

Subtext: These stories are intended for mature audiences over the age of 21. These stories do include romance and conspicuous love between pairs of consenting female adults. If this stuff offends you, run away screaming now! If this is illegal in your town, vote.

Convolution Alert: This story is an Uber-Xena story (sort of), but it winds its way through several simultaneous stories.  To make it easier on the reader (sort of) I've identified each section with the name of the incarnation of Xena native to that place.

Dedications: I want to thank the two people who made this story possible. 

To my soulmate Dianne, I just want to say thank you.  Putting up with an obsessive, compulsive writer is no easy task.  Thanks for helping me brainstorm and thanks for putting the kids to bed alone and still smiling when I finally managed to join you.  You make me understand what love really is every day of the week.

Send all feedback to: daemonddog@prodigy.net

Foreword by ForevaXena:

The story you are about to read is an amazing roller coaster ride that you will never want to end.  The characterizations are simply flawless and her writing style is incredibly visual.  You will "be there" every step of the way for an awesome story of love, deceit, souls lost and found, and unbelievable majick!

It has been incredibly rewarding to me to go through the development process of this story with Diamonddog.  I feel absolutely honored and privileged that I was involved in the project, but more importantly, I'm happy to say that I also have a wonderful new friend to share my Xena obsession with!  Bravo Diamonddog, here's to many, many more!!

The Xenaverse has an incredible new talent on its hands!

Cover by ForevaXena

(Click photo for larger image)



Part 1 of 27

I- Xena

"Get your hands off her," the warrior growled, appearing at the edge of the copse like a dark-haired, feral angel. 

Her blue eyes burned.  She twirled her sword in her right hand.  Careening through the verdant canopy and kissing well-polished steel, random splashes of sunlight danced off the razor-edge of the wide-bladed weapon.  The heavy sword parted the air with an audible "whoosh", spinning in the woman's grip with deceptive ease.  The warrior smiled.

They knew they had made a huge mistake.

"Xena!"  The slender young bard twisted in the grip of her captors and smiled brightly at her rescuer, stopping to hurl a pitying look at the two armor-clad thugs whose hands held her fast between them.  Xena felt a part of her soul melt at Gabrielle's expression, and another part turn icy.

No one laid hands on her bard. 

Xena's sword sliced the air again.  The two men, clad in chain mail, reached for their weapons.  Xena’s smile broadened.

"You really don't wanna do that," Gabrielle warned them.

The two men exchanged glances nervously.  Xena's reputation for violence preceded her.  The rumors of her particularly ruthless ferocity in regards to her traveling companion were also well told.  But they were soldiers.  They followed orders.  They had a duty.  Resolutely, their attention swiveled back to Xena... just in time to register the whistling arc of an oncoming fist headed towards the left and a sword pommel slamming to the right.  Both men slid to the ground, loyally senseless, duty served.

"Why didn't you stay where I told you?"  Xena stepped over the unconscious warriors... well, almost over them.  The corner of her lip crooked with tiny satisfaction.

"I thought you might need my help."

Xena sheathed her sword and surveyed the scene with a wry smile and lifted eyebrows.  "Mmmmm... I can see that."  She moved closer to Gabrielle, eyes softening as she closed the short distance between them.  "Are you okay?"  she asked, her husky inquiry almost a purr as her eyes flicked over the bard's body and back to her bright emerald eyes.

Gabrielle grinned.  "Of course.  I knew you'd come."

Xena's heart stopped at the brilliance of that smile.  She resisted the urge to crush those upturned lips beneath hers, her gaze flicking to the woods surrounding the footpath and away from temptation.  She folded the bard in her protective embrace without looking and gently stroked her reddish-blonde hair as she held her.  Xena took a deep breath and silently thanked the fates that Gabrielle was safe, trying not to be aware of how perfect the bard felt in her arms, a thought that plagued her with increasing insistence.

Gabrielle did not help, happily wrapping herself around her rescuer, oblivious to the slight quickening of breath beneath Xena's familiar breastplate.  Xena half-closed her eyes and reminded herself for the zillionth time that Gabrielle was just a very touchy person.  The bard had no idea how she affected the ex-warlord even though Xena had long ago stopped lying to herself about the precise nature of Gabrielle's effect upon her. 

And it was not just the fact that Gabrielle was an incredibly attractive woman.  That the warrior could have handled.  It was Gabrielle herself.  Her heart, her convictions, her selflessness, her adoration, her optimism and cheer... well, her cheer once she had actually cleared the bedroll anyway.  Gabrielle tended towards pre-breakfast grumpiness, but even that made the tacit warrior princess smile.

There was no doubt about it.

Xena, ex-warlord, ex-Destroyer of Nations, was in love, and it was driving her crazy.

Post-kidnapping reunions were the worst.

Gabrielle's taut muscles, honed by their long travels together, molded to the warrior's body as though she had been shaped for just that purpose.  Her soft breasts crushed maddeningly into Xena's leather as her cheek pressed tenderly against the warrior princess's shoulder.  Xena tried not to shiver.

Oh, and Xena never did anything halfway.  She was not merely in love with her bard.  She was hopelessly, obsessively, and endlessly in love with her and had been for a very long time.  The fierce desire that accompanied that love often overwhelmed her.  Times like these, feeling Gabrielle so close, Xena's blood ignited in her veins, awakening every nerve in her body, urging her to sweep Gabrielle up in a fit of passion.  Ravenous desire rose like a serpent deep within the warrior's hooded azure gaze.  She wanted so much to kiss her bard, but, for once in her life, she was afraid to gamble.  The stakes were too high.

Instead, she resisted.  She rationalized.  She adored Gabrielle far too much to risk their relationship by yielding to impulse.  Better to have her here, in her arms and never closer, than to lose the light that shined more brightly for her than sun or moon ever could.  Nothing was worth risking that.

And yet... what if...

With the abruptness that was so very Xena and which Gabrielle never questioned, Xena gently disentangled herself from the woman who held her soul in secret slavery and turned her mind to practicalities.  "Let's go then.  Argo's in the village."

Gabrielle nodded and fell into step beside the warrior.  Neither looked back. 

Once the beat of her heart returned to its normal pace, Xena began to count the moments of silence expectantly.  Gabrielle did not disappoint her 

"Xena...?"

32 counts.  Average.

"Gabrielle...?"  she asked, mocking the bard's tone.

Gabrielle's lips tried to turn downward in some pretense of irritation, but she had to settle for a dancing grin beneath slightly narrowed eyes.  "I had a thought..."

"Oooo... that sounds dangerous," Xena teased, wishing Gabrielle would have a dangerous thought, preferably one that involved a passionate encounter with a certain warrior princess

"I'm serious.  Do you ever wonder where dreams come from?"

"More strange dreams?"

Gabrielle nodded.

Xena cocked her head and tried not to smile at the bard.  One minute kidnapped, the next worrying about irregular sleeping patterns.  Nothing slowed Gabrielle down for long, and it never ceased to amaze her.  "I take it you're not referring to Morpheus?"

"No.  At least, I don't think so."  The bard looked thoughtful at the mention of the god of sleep and dreams.  "I mean, not all dreams come from Morpheus.  Most dreams are just dreams, aren't they?"

"I wouldn't know," she whispered, staring at a point somewhere further down the path, chiding herself when she saw Gabrielle frown. 

Her answer had been true, but she had not meant to darken her bard's mood with reminders of the nightmares that haunted her own sleep.  Gabrielle worried about her, and neither of them had any doubts concerning the point of origin of her dreams.  Born of reality, her dark night visions wore the faces of the past, reminding her of who she had been, the lives she had destroyed, and how closely that person resided to the person she sought to become.  All too close... waiting just below the surface...

Xena's thoughts caught, shifted, and began a downward spiral into guilt and shadows, remembering the screams of the innocent and the blood beneath her boots.  The ring of clashing swords.  The maelstrom of battle.  The rage and ruthlessness churning in her soul.  Her own unshakeable thirst for dominance and appetite for conquest driving her onward.  And the scorched earth and tears she left in her wake.  The thrill of it all.  The allure.

Gabrielle chose that moment to lean into Xena as they walked, her silky red-blonde mane brushing softly against the warrior's arm, the fingers of one hand curling just below Xena's armband, dispelling the memories instantly and completely.  Xena's black mood vanished like smoke in a whirlwind, dissipating magically, replaced by an unsettling awareness of the bard's proximity. 

Gabrielle's touch, her smell, her presence.  Sweet torment to the warrior's finely tuned senses that left no room for black memories.  Torment she would not trade for anything.

Xena was often grateful that the bard did not share her keen senses.  If she had, there would have been no way to hide the wild thudding of her heart beneath the inlay of her armor.  As it was, Xena was unreadable, her feelings secure behind a cool wall of smooth skin and glinting stares.  She had perfected inscrutability as a warlord.  She had often seen the reflection of her own blue eyes in the helms of her soldiers, icy and dispassionate, and smiled inwardly at the mystique it lent her.  The ability to conceal her intentions from her enemies and intimidate them with their own unsureness had been among her greatest weapons, and she had wielded them without equal.  They served her still.

Though Gabrielle could peer past most of her defenses with a glance, Xena could still turn everything off when necessary in order to conceal her deepest feelings from the bard.

Brave warrior princess, her inner voice chided.  The person you love most in the world and you can't even trust her with the truth?  You're the coward, Xena.  She's not the same child who followed you from Poteidaia two years ago.  Look at her.  Travel has strengthened her body.  Freedom has strengthened her will.  Love has strengthened her soul.  Her eyes dance when she teases you.  They darken when you look too long at others.  She possesses you as surely as you possess her.  She just needs to understand the nature of the hunger with which you are stricken every night as you lay beside her.  Just look at her.

Xena did look, and a fantasy played through her mind- the conversation they should have had (but hadn't) when Gabrielle had first resurrected her body with the ambrosia.  The timing would have been perfect.  Gabrielle had returned the kiss that Xena had feared to offer in life but had risked in death, and Xena had never felt such elation.  She had known at that moment that she would return to Gabrielle. Nothing would stop her, and she had sworn that she would never leave her again.  But once she had returned, they had been swept into other events. 

Gabrielle had relinquished her crown as the queen of the amazons to continue her travels alongside Xena.  Velasca had been reborn a god and threatened the woman with whom Xena would not be parted.  Callisto had been recruited and manipulated, before she ascended as the divinity of madness and was imprisoned alongside Velasca in the lava river. 

And then the moment had been gone. 

Xena and Gabrielle had fallen back into their familiar easy relationship once again.  They had resumed the nomadic road they shared.  Touching, flirting, traveling, talking, teasing, playing, bickering, fighting, and laughing.  Xena had missed her best opportunity to...

Seduce the woman of your dreams.

...finally show Gabrielle exactly how much she loved her.

Xena had returned from death for Gabrielle, but she had never quite figured out a way to introduce her bard to the passionate or romantic side of the love she felt, not without risking the loss of the most precious part of her life.  Instead, she allowed the years of carefully cultured discipline and cool self-control to shield Gabrielle from the truth.

You know she loves you.  You're shielding yourself, Xena.  You're afraid to love her that completely. What would you do if she rejected you?  And what would happen if you lost her to another then?  Another Perdicus.  You barely survived that pain loving her from afar.  You would have killed him yourself if she had been your lover.

"Xena?"  Gabrielle was tugging her arm emphatically.  "Are you listening to me?  Did you hear anything I just said?"

Xena looked up from her thoughts into eyes that inflamed her heart and quieted her soul.  Without missing a beat, she pursed her lips around the slightest of roguish smiles.  "Tell me again and I'll let you know," she sidestepped softly, a playfulness touching the natural huskiness of her voice, a side of herself reserved for Gabrielle alone.

Gabrielle misinterpreted Xena's distraction.  She scoured the woods unsubtly, eyes wide, her fingers tightening on Xena's arm.  "Is someone out there?" she asked softly.

"No one is out there.  We're alone."  But you're not safe, she smiled as she cast a raking glance over Gabrielle's lithe body until the bard's search for unseen enemies ended and her attention reverted to Xena.

"What?  So you just weren't listening?  Am I boring you?"  Gabrielle's expression shifted from concern to melodramatic indignance.  Mortal danger would have been the only acceptable excuse for not listening as far as the bard was concerned.

"You never bore me, Gabrielle," Xena replied rakishly.

Gabrielle's eyes cut to Xena to see if she was being teased, but the warrior's blue eyes met hers evenly and held.  A strange brightness shined in them, and Gabrielle looked satisfied.  Her grip on Xena's arm remained tight.

Silence ensued again, and Xena began to idly count the seconds.

"Then what were you thinking that was so important?"

The corner of Xena's lip lifted.  A count of 18.  Gabrielle must have something on her mind.

 "Nothing important," she replied, scanning the narrow footpath that led back to the village.

Gabrielle watched her closely.  Xena stared off into the distance, but she could feel the bard's eyes upon her.

You should tell her the truth.  She deserves that from you.  Xena ignored the voice.  "Why did you ask about the dreams?"

Gabrielle hesitated, then actually squirmed and frowned, uncomfortably sifting for the right words.  "I had another dream, and it was a really strange one.  It was about us again, sort of, but it was... different.  It wasn't a good dream.  Well, it wasn't a bad dream either," Gabrielle blushed, "But this one had a really bad ending... And it didn't really feel like a dream this time.  Probably nothing, right?  Just something brought on by too much fish... or something."

Xena raised an eyebrow, but she did not ask.

II- Raven

"Get your hands off her."

The woman who growled those words twirled her sword in her right hand.  The dancing light of the campfire careened off the blue-black sheen of its wide double-edged blade.  The heavy broadsword spun effortlessly in her grip.  She was not smiling.

"Raven!"  The leanly muscled bard twisted in the grip of her captors and smiled at her rescuer, emerald eyes flashing as she glanced at the two warrior-thugs holding her firmly between them, "I warned you Raven would be coming and that she wouldn’t be happy... how many times did I warn you?"

Raven let her blade circle again as she took a step towards them.  Her wide eyes contrasted palely with the blue-black of the blade, but both gleamed with frightening anticipation.  

The two warrior-thugs stared at Raven then exchanged a measuring glance with one another.  In silent accord, they dropped Jasmine's arms and fled.

Raven straightened from her fighting crouch as Jasmine marched across the clearing, frowning.

"What took you so long?  I've been threatening those idiots with the wrath of Raven for hours... They were starting to laugh at me, and even I was even beginning to wonder if you were coming this time."

Raven humored Jasmine with the most insincere apologetic lip pout she had in her arsenal of withering expressions.  "Sorry, I stopped off for dinner on my way to the rescue, " she smiled.

Jasmine shook her head and tried not to grin, embracing Raven tightly when she drew close.

Raven's eyes softened, and her warrior demeanor vanished as she raised one hand to stroke Jasmine's cheek.  "Are you okay?" she whispered.

Jasmine snuggled deeply against Raven's breastplate, her bare arms slipping around the taller woman's waist, inhaling the familiar scents of leather, honing oil, and the slightest hint of the sweet-smelling soap that Jasmine had used to wash the warrior's dark hair the night before.  Jasmine laid her head against her rescuer's shoulder.  Her lips curled with cat-like satisfaction as one of Raven's arms slipped around her protectively while the fingers of the other moved tenderly through her hair.

"I'm fine.... now," Jasmine purred, arching her neck so that she was staring into Raven's eyes, feeling Raven's breath catch as she wriggled mischievously against her. 

A moment of unbridled intensity passed between them as Raven acknowledged the younger woman's hold on her with a lingering stare.  Blue fire smoldered in her eyes, and it was Jasmine's turn to stop breathing, wanting the kiss that Raven's long gaze seemed to promise.

"Any idea just who those guys were?"  All business and vigilance again with an abruptness that left Jasmine aching, Raven's head lifted, eyes darting through the shadows, alert and restless, all of her inhumanly fine-tuned senses focused outward.

Jasmine sighed and grudgingly disentangled herself from Raven's embrace.  She glanced in the direction that the men had fled, shrugging.  "Nope, I thought that they were just members of your thug-of-the-month club.  But from the way they ran, I'm not sure they were expecting you."  She looked up at Raven, eyes twinkling.  "Or maybe you're just not what they expected."

Raven raised one brow, saturnine skepticism turning to amusement on her lips.  "Oh really?  And just what do you think they expected?"

Jasmine looked her friend up and down.  "Well, they probably were expecting a reformed warrior princess."

"So?"  Raven's brow lifted again as she waited for the inevitable jibe.

"Well, it's that glint of madness you get right before you attack, Raven.  People are never ready for a complete lunatic," Jasmine explained cheerfully and smiled.

"Ahhh, " Raven nodded, "So that's what it is..."

Jasmine nodded, missing the return of the playful gleam to Raven's eyes.

"And are you ready for a complete lunatic?"  Raven growled softly before pushing Jasmine roughly into the nearest tree and kissing her so deeply that Jasmine gasped, desperate for air and left more than a little light-headed by Raven's ravenous passion.  She was always amazed that Raven could do that to her.  One second they were enjoying the playful banter that endeared the warrior princess to her more and more every day, and the next she was so lost in Raven's lust that she could not even remember her own name.  Another of her lover's many talents, although she never attempted to capture that particular strength in her tales of the warrior princess's exploits.

Jasmine wondered what folks would think if they knew... or if it was even a secret.  Neither of them was entirely discreet.

The curious musing dissipated immediately when Raven's hands slid down the bard's body, one stopping to cradle a breast while the other slid under her skirt and up her firm thigh.  Thought was replaced by Jasmine's soft moans as the woman who knew her better than any living soul used that knowledge against her.  Jasmine crumpled beneath Raven's amorous assault and forgot everything except each delicious stage of the conquest the warrior princess was making of her body and the anticipation of the wild counterattack she intended to launch upon Raven's flesh... as soon as she caught her breath.

III- Jezz

Jezz smiled as the familiar theme song for "Legends" echoed from the television in the den, impressed as always by the talent of Joey and the sound artists. 

She hummed in accompaniment as she poured the required amount of water into the Mr. Coffee machine perched on the countertop.  Her movements mirrored the music, swaying with the grand sweeping music that underscored the panoramic shots, head shaking sharply at the heavy drum pieces that beat out the tempo of the promised action scenes, and wistfully smiling at the softer love theme that introduced the actresses who brought her characters to life. 

Of course, it wasn't called a love theme on the CD, she smiled ruefully.  "Just a small consideration... really.  We don't want to nip at the market share."  The memory of her agent attempting to pacify her replayed in her head.

Thinking of her agent made her remember that she hadn't listened to the recorder since she had been home.

She added the coffee to the filter and flipped the brew switch before wandering back to the bedroom where the answering machine waited, the red message light blinking.  She pressed the "Play Messages" button.

Her brows wrinkled as she heard a digitized version of the same main title theme for "Legends" on her machine, wondering who would send her such a message, but the mystery resolved itself quickly as the music ended and the voice began.  "Danni here.  Do you hear that?  That's the musical sound of your cash cow going to the bank, Jezz.  Now have you thought about that new series we talked about?  The network is dying to be able to run another show with your name as producer/creator/writer... hell, whatever you want.... as long as it’s scrawled across the credits.  But they want to preview it now so they can have it ready for next season.  And don't tell me anymore about that dream thing-- maybe we can hypnotize you into dreaming about another character and a new storyline..." 

Jezz raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips in cool disapproval at the machine's sudden silence.  She could just envision a thoughtful Danni chewing on a pencil eraser balanced perfectly between perfect pink fingernails, considering hypnosis as a viable solution, gauging the angles, comparing the potential profit against Jezz's noted temper.

"Okay, okay... maybe hypnosis wouldn't work.  But Jezz... darling... fame does not last long in this business.  You need to strike now while you're hot.  The new series doesn't have to be another "Legends".  Everyone expects spin-offs to die quickly... but it will keep you in their minds.  Don't worry about the dreams... use them to keep writing "Legends" novels and sketching episodes... you can merchandize this to your heart's content... but let's put something else in the pipe to keep up the momentum."  Dramatic pause.  "At least think about it, okay, Jezz?"  Sigh and click.

"Consider it thought about," Jezz said dryly to the machine, "Next...."

"Jezz... this is your mother."

Jezz smiled.  Her mother still felt compelled to identify herself after fifteen years of leaving messages on her machines, one of those endearing habits that made Jezz wish that they lived closer than they did.

"I just wanted to let you know that your father had a "Legends" party at the house this weekend.  Everybody from work came..." Jezz tuned out the long list of names and relationships that followed as she hardly recalled any people from that short time when she had lived with her parents after they had settled down to small town living, "... and it was a lot of fun...  We are both so proud of you.  Oh... are you and Cris and Pony going to be able to make it up this month?  We never did get the dates, and I want to try and use a couple of vacation days if you're sure you're coming.  We can even do a little clothes shopping if you think you can force yourself to do it..."

Jezz grimaced.  She hated shopping for clothes.

"And stop making that face... someday you may be happy to have something else in your wardrobe besides jeans and T-shirts. "

Jezz looked down at the faded blue jeans and "Crow" T-shirt she was wearing, shook her head, and grinned.  Mothers really were psychic.

"Well, I know this thing is going to cut me off, so...  I love you, honey.  Oh, one more thing, your father..."

BEEP.

Jezz tried not to laugh.

This sudden success felt so good; the bills were paid on time for the second time in her life, and this time they were being paid by honest labor.  That alone was cause for celebration.

Jezz returned to the den and her desk, frowning as she sat down and stared at the lines wrapped across the computer monitor.  Danni's request for a new series nagged at her.

The only character she had ever dreamed about was Raven.  Everyone laughed when she tried to explain that she could only write what she saw in her dreams, but it was the truth.  She merely fleshed out the things she saw in her sleep with words.  And she did not even have to do much of that, since Jasmine was usually dictating exactly the right phrases to use in her ear.

Jezz smiled softly as her thoughts turned to Jasmine.  Raven might be the central figure of her dreams and her stories, but it was Jasmine that gave them warmth and meaning.

"Why do I always have the feeling you're cheating on me when you smile at the computer like that?"

Jezz jumped like a preschooler caught playing doctor, innocent and naughty all at the same time.  She scrambled, nearly falling out of her chair.  "Geez, Cris!  You scared the hell out of me!"

Cris giggled, her bright eyes dancing the same way they had the first time she and Jezz had met.  "So were you writing about my arch rival again?"

The soft smile that had touched Jezz's lips thinking of Jasmine gave way to an easy grin that turned her inscrutable features cavalier as she swiveled in her chair to face her lover.  "What makes you say that?"  Her brows vaulted archly while one finger tapped a restless arrhythmic beat on one of the chair's scarred wooden arms.

Cris shook her head.  They had this conversation frequently, and, though it always started out cheerfully and playfully enough, it usually left Jezz moody and silent and Cris wondering if dealing with Jezz was worth the trouble.  Cris opened her mouth to change the subject, but a bounding pile of manic fur saved her the trouble of attempting to be diplomatic. 

The pile leaped into Jezz's lap.

"Oooof."  The grunting exhalation of every breath in Jezz's body transformed into laughter as Jezz slid from the desk chair to the floor, wrestling the monstrously huge puppy across the old den carpet.

"I'm gonna go cook dinner, hon, okay?"

Jezz coughed out an unintelligible acknowledgement.  Pony was playing her favorite game.  She placed one humongous ten-month old paw squarely on Jezz's chest and then collapsed atop her completely, crushing the breath from the dark-haired woman’s body. 

Cris watched for a moment longer before rolling her eyes at the pair and leaving Jezz and Pony to their grappling.

The rattle of pots and pans drifted into the office. 

Jezz pinned Pony and met her mischievous brown doggy gaze.  "I always win, Ponydog.  That's one of the rules of the game," she whispered to the tail-thunking dog laid out happily beside her, then rolled up to a sitting position beside the desk.  Her playful smile melted.  She sighed, and ran her fingers through Pony's shaggy coat, glancing with furrowed brows between the empty open doorway and the softly humming computer on the desk.

Pony wagged her tail enthusiastically and whined.  Jezz sighed thoughtfully but seemed not to hear.  She did not acknowledge the longhaired beast.  The puppy lifted her head, noted that she was being ignored, and tossed her head.  When this failed to attract attention, Pony pulled herself to a sitting position beside Jezz then slapped her distracted mistress upside the head with one of her potholder-sized paws. 

Knocked off balance, Jezz oofed again, frowned, and, eyes flashing in mock rage, tugged and wrestled the puppy to the floor like a calf, threatening the one-hundred pound fuzzball with a myriad of horrible fates between bouts of brutal cuddles and merciless petting.  Pony pawed and wriggled in unabashed glee.

Later, as they lay in bed, Cris levered to her side, one elbow crooked to support her head, and watched her lover stare at the ceiling fan turning slowly above them.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, running her bare foot up Jezz's calf under the single sheet draped over their bodies, her free hand reaching out to smooth Jezz's thick dark hair.

Jezz smiled lazily.  "How nice that was..." That was one thing that always worked between them.

Cris smiled.  "You know, Jezz..." she began.

A small warning muscle bunched along Jezz's jaw, but Cris did not stop.

"I really don't understand what it is with you and these dreams.  Sometimes I think they're more real to you than I am.  I know that they have gotten you where you are now, and I am happy for you.  You deserve success.  But what I don't understand is why you don't want to talk about them.  They obviously upset you.  Some nights you act like you're afraid to go to sleep.  Maybe you'd feel better if you talked about them with someone."

"How many times have we had this conversation?"  Her voice was tight and razor-edged.  All the easiness had vanished.

Cris let her fingers slide along Jezz's clenched jaw.  "Too many times.  So why are your dreams such a terrible secret?  Or the rest of your past for that matter?"

Jezz snorted contemptuously.  "My dreams secret?  Everything I dream is splashed on the TV or printed in novels... what kind of secret is that?"  Jezz ignored the reference to her past completely.

"You know that is not what I meant..."

"What?  Now I'm supposed to be psychic?" she snapped.

Cris took a deep breath, refusing to escalate with Jezz's temper.  "Okay... then why do your dreams upset you?  Why do you refuse to talk about them?  You pour them into that damn computer, and they come out looking fun and exciting.  But when I ask about them, you shut down completely."

"You get to see everything I dream when it hits the printer.  Why is it so important to you that we talk about it?  Why do you keep asking me about it?  I’d think that you’d understand by now that I don't want to discuss it!"  Jezz bared clenched teeth and practically snarled, "Just let it lie." 

Cris shook her head and stroked the snarl line with her finger until Jezz turned away.  "I can't.  I love you, Jezz.    It hurts to watch you sometimes.  You avoid sleep for days at a time.  Then, when you can resist no longer, you smile as you dream.  So what is so hideous about them?  If you are merely transcribing your dreams, I don't understand.  The stories I read off that printer are about adventure and love.  Nothing awful or dark.  So why do your dreams frighten you so badly?"

"I'm not frightened of anything."  Jezz's jaw muscle jumped again. 

Cris ignored the warning and leaned across Jezz's body to turn the writer's head slowly back towards her, slowly kissing Jezz's full lips.  Once, twice, three times... very softly, until the writer's lips parted.  Jezz groaned as their tongues mingled and danced, her fingers snaking up hungrily and pulling Cris down against her.

Part 2