All Souls Night.

Disclaimers in Chapter One. Warning: Angst sunshower ahead. Anybody got some hankies I could borrow?

When Xena had left the house after the confrontation in the kitchen, she didn't actually have any clear destination in mind. The universe might as well have contracted to the look she'd caught in Gabrielle's eye. The look which communicated volumes. The look which asked 'How did you find out about her?'.

The look which made Xena tear off at 55 mph in the Chevy convertible (one of Gabrielle's few extravagances), hoping to find a hairpin curve or (better still) a cliff she could jump off of.

She found neither. Gabrielle had chosen a depressingly *flat* region to live in.

The road into town wasn't nearly as winding or long as her preoccupied thoughts made it to be. She was down the main street in less than five minutes, reducing speed more on instinct than due to conscious decision, and absolutely no idea where she was heading. After a full year of going up and down these streets, Xena was confident she knew every one and every outlet here.

That mental map had somehow been tossed out the car window, and so she had to reduce her speed even further and actually *watch* where she was going. It was maddening. It was irritating. It made her want to punch something...very, very hard.

The Almighty Whatever chose to smile on her just then. She was just passing one of the small dojo she'd come to frequent. The one, Xena was please to see, that was more a boxing ring than anything else. They knew her well enough here that no-one would have thought her sudden appearance particularly odd. True, normally it would herself and Gabrielle coming in to practice quarterstaffs and the odd tumble-match.

The scowl *that* thought brought on would prove deterrence enough that anyone who noticed wouldn't say a thing. Fortunately, the dojo proved practically deserted, and so she was spared any odd looks right then. In the state of mind she was in, Xena suspected she might well...

Rather than let herself ruminate on that unpleasant possibility, Xena went straight to the hanging punch-bag and proceeded to give it whatfor, not even stopping for the briefest warm-up stretches. She simply started hitting the bag.

Xena had never had formal training in any fighting style. Oh, she'd been ringside at a few bare-knuckle matches back with the circus, and been party to a few run-ins with Scooter's enemies (the law included) which invariably ended in a knife-fight of one sort or another. Even so, Xena had never handled a gun, nor been shown even the most rudimentary forms or strikes.

All of which made the complicated series of punches and kicks she delivered to the hard column of canvas and stuffing before all the more exceptional. To have seen it, one would think her a competition champion in who knew how many disciplines and tournaments.

Xena kept pounding the bag for as long as her breath held out. A remarkable amount of time, given her lack of preparation. Even so, the only way she could maintain her stride was to start envisioning faces. The first was Granma', shattered by well-placed roundhouse kick. The next was the circus *patron*, his gap-tooth leer and crooked nose likewise dispatched. Scooter Cook tanned and not-unhandsome features she mangled with a *very* solid one-two punch to the nose and chin. A rapid-fire one-two-three (one punch delivered to the eye, one punch catching the nose and upper lip, and a solid roundhouse guaranteed to crack a few ribs) combination dispatched Gabrielle...

...and stopped her completely dead.

The bag was swinging with such force it was a wonder it didn't break its suspension and simply fall.

The pounding of her heart, the roar of her panting breathing, the mental image of Gabrielle lying at her feet, face bloodied and spine twisted...these were the only things Xena was aware of. She was sure recrimination and self-loathing weren't far away, though both had the good grace to allow her to wallowing in shock for awhile.

Unlike others, that is. "Hey?" someone practically shouted near her ear. Xena's slow, very *slow* turning towards the voice was a thousand times more unnerving than if she'd simply spun on her heel. The deep breaths she was taking didn't help the scene any.

"You okay?" It was a woman Xena neither knew nor recognized. A few inches shorter than herself, with russet brown hair cut to a bob, and a face belonging on magazine covers. She wore a skin tight tank-top and trunks but no shoes (this was a dojo, after all) and was regarding Xena with wary eyes. Her relaxed stance was warning enough for Xena to think twice before trying anything crazy.

"I know you?" Xena growled, slowly calming but all the more explosive for it.

"No, I'm new here." The woman glanced meaningfully at the bag. "Just blowing off steam?" Xena nodded slowly. "You have an argument or something?" Another nod, her skin cooling and suspicions rising with each second.

"I needed...needed to get away." Xena heard herself speak as though observing all this from afar. She had no idea why she was suddenly so willing to speak of her domestic disputes to a complete stranger, and seemed incapable of quieting herself.

She barely registered the worried, even confused tone to the woman's next question. "She treat you right, right?"

Xena could only throw her head back and give a bitter laugh to that. "Yeah, sure." It was either that or she break down and cry like a baby. "Doesn't trust me worth *beans*, but..."

The woman cut in, quite forcefully. "Well, would *you*? Given the way you were going at that bag?"

Xena snapped her head around and glared, ready to harangue this stranger who... who...

One look at those earnest, open eyes...eyes as green and perfect as Gabrielle's... and all Xena could do was stare at the floor, suddenly very ashamed to be alive.

The woman moved off to a shadowed corner, wiggling a little here and there so to loosen her joints and began a series of stretches. It might have been it attractive, even arousing, had anyone been paying attention. Xena certainly wasn't.

Xena was completely focused on the still-fresh image of a bloodied and broken Gabrielle lying at her feet. Unable to stand it an instant longer, Xena turned and all-but ran back to the car.

She sat in there for some minutes, gripping the steering wheel in a death-grip, her breathing erratic and strained. Catching sight of herself in the rear-view mirror, Xena's eyes hardened to flint. "Well?" she questioned the reflection, voice dripping with contempt. "You going to do right by her, or what?"

With that, she revved engine to life and swung the convertible around, mindless to the traffic honking at her impromptu Y-turn or the few uncooperative traffic she'd encountered. Only an abiding respect for pedestrians kept her running them all.

Xena's entire mind was focused on returning to the house, and (she prayed fervently if unconsciously) to Gabrielle.

******

Hope had watched her leave. Her stretches were more for show than out of need, and so could devote her attention to other, more critical matters.

She'd heard literally every word which had passed between those two since awaking, generally rolling her eyes at each exchange and shaking her head in disgust. This wasn't the Circle's doing, she knew that. It was a thousand times worse, and just as unsolvable: it was a lover's quarrel to the power of ten!

Following and dealing with Xena was, in Hope's estimation, the easiest course. Not to mention the safest. Gabrielle...*that* was a confrontation neither of them were ready for.

Her stretches done only minutes after Xena's departure, Hope stood and yawned. Nearly two days without sleep wouldn't have normally bothered her. Two days of pushing her more...innate abilities to their limits without a break...now that was exhausting. Hopefully, she reflected, it wouldn't be much longer.

None of the few of the patrons of the dojo noticed when she simply walked into the deepest shadow behind her.

Nor did anyone comment on how, when others went back there to go through their own warm-ups, the corner was completely empty.

Author's Note, act II: Hate to say it folks, but that's it for this week. I'm going to be real busy the rest of the week moving to Washington DC and getting the 20+ students I'm supervising there settled. Don't worry. This WILL be finished soon. We're in the home stretch, so be ready! And no flames or threats to my Beanie Babies, PLEASE! Threaten my family if you must, but not (sob!) my BEANIE BABIES!!!

Editor's Note: Well, gee, seems he found some motivation somewhere. . .pt 12 is up. . I think that may be it for a bit though, the man is trying to relocate after all. . .

Author's Note, act III: Why, yes, I am on medication and have missed taking it the past few days. How'd you all guess?