Credits: Ah! My Goddess! copyright 1988, 1998 by Kousuke Fujishima. This is a non-profit work of fan-fiction. As such, I'm getting no compensation for writing this fiction other than my own enjoyment, because the thought of getting sued is rather unpleasant. Disclaimer: All characters *I* have created are purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is pure coincidence. Anyone who thinks otherwise is probably just itching for a fight. Also, please do not try and distribute this story in some lame attempt to make a buck; it would be bad karma to say the least. C&C appreciated! Send them to Michael McAvoy http://www.angelfire.com/va3/shenandoah/ Last updated October 15, 2001. Ah, My Goddess! "In Search of a Wish" A Fan-Fiction by Michael McAvoy O light the candle, John The daylight has almost gone The birds have sung their last The bells call all to mass Sit here by my side For the night is very long There is something I must tell Before I pass along --- Loreena McKennitt -* Chapter One *- If one were to gather the collective philosophic genius of mankind into a room and ask them the one constant of life, you would probably get a lot of answers. Very well thought out and opinionated, some might say Uncertainty, Hope, Chaos, Death, Goodness, or an almost infinite host of other possibilities, all of them equally valid. If you were to ask Nagle, an apprentice daeva in the ranks of the Underworld, he would probably look you straight in the eye and tell you those human philosophers were full of it. As far as the young, evil spirit was concerned, there was only one constant in life. Bureaucracy. Fair skinned and deceptively humanoid in appearance, Nagle looked down at the slow scribbles he was making with his pencil as he sat at a reception desk. Pleasantly adorned with a "Thank you for not smoking" sign, a rolodex, and an office phone, the desk was located at the end of a bright and cheery hall, complete with thick carpeting, whitewashed walls, and some tasteful art hanging here and there. Several plush chairs, all of which were currently empty, sat around Nagle's reception desk, facing him and the door located behind. As a receptionist for the most powerful demon in the Underworld, as well as Him, Nagle had assumed that he was being groomed for a fast track position in the ranks of Hell, perhaps even to become mentored to one of the more powerful evil creatures that passed his desk now and again. Unfortunately for Nagle, day after day after day, all he ever did was sit at this desk and take appointments for those upstairs. And he had been doing this for seven hundred and eighty nine years. Sure, Nagle had asked for another assignment, maybe tormenting a few mortals now and again, working in a field office for the Department of Demonic Engineering, or even managing a section of the various Levels of Hell. But each time his application had gotten lost in the system, his requests had fallen on deaf ears, or he had been just plain passed up by some promising new daeva fresh out of training school. It just was not fair, Nagle thought as a shadow passed over the pad he was drawing on. The glum faced daeva looked up. Standing in front of the reception desk, clad in a comfortable looking combination of velvet and leather, was a woman with an intense stare and long, wildly-flowing, light brown hair. Running symmetrically down her forehead were two long and narrow marks, almost like tattoos except for the fact that they seemed to glow incandescently. Nagle did not even bother to take his hand from the side of his face. "Name?" he asked despondently. The woman raised an eyebrow. "Mara," she said with some annoyance in her voice, "Demon First Class, Unlimited License. I have an appointment." "Oh, right," the receptionist daeva replied, "you're the one who's been summoned by Him. Must be your lucky day. Me? I have no lucky days. I just sit here and watch my career wasting away." Nagle looked up to see a pair of bright eyes staring at him with vast impatience and disgust. He hastily cleared his throat and motioned to the door. "You're expected," he said quickly, "please go in and-" "Been there before," Mara snorted, brushing past the desk. The door slid open automatically and the female demon passed through it, entering what looked like an elevator. It was tastefully decorated, just like the lobby, and some soothing music was being played overhead from a little speaker. There were only two buttons inside the elevator, one marked "Lobby" and one marked "Executive Office". Mara leaned over and pushed the office button. "Have a nice day," Nagle said in a half-hearted tone as the door shut, "I know I won't." Mara waited for the door to close before she leaned up against the cool metal interior of the elevator and sighed. Closing her eyes, she felt a rising sensation as the elevator began to climb rapidly. The Executive Office was located in the tallest building in the Underworld as it was rumored He liked to have a good view of His domain. Mara opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling unhappily. "Looks like this is the end," she muttered morosely. It had to have come to this eventually, she thought. After all, three years of one successive failure after another could not go unnoticed, especially in the cutthroat atmosphere that was Hell. And that her assignment she had failed to complete after three years was just to Damn one lousy and unremarkable human made her a laughing stock. "What do they expect of me?" grumbled Mara out loud, "It's not *my* fault that Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes got to him first. It's not *my* fault she got her drunkard and mecha freak sisters to help guard the little weakling. And on top of that, *I'm* supposed to fight the Ultimate Force single-handedly?!" Mara closed her eyes again and sighed, waiting for the elevator to finish it's assent. "It's just not fair," she muttered. "I'd like to see some of those pompous executive morons do any better." Though she was certain her devilish existence was about to come to an end, and not necessarily an abrupt one (`I could linger in pain for at least a few thousand years,' Mara thought wearily), Mara did take satisfaction that she had been summoned by Him, and not by that geriatric excuse for an executive officer, Lucifer. It was a well known fact that Hell's number one demon had not had his hands directly in anything evil for almost a thousand years, instead becoming a bureaucratic administrator. In fact, Lucifer had made the Underworld even more dog-eat-dog and back stabbing during his reign, worried that if he did not do so some enterprising demon would challenge him. Mara snorted. Feeling the elevator begin to slow down, she put on her game face. Even if she was about to be annihilated from existence, she was not going to let that bastard, Lucifer, get any satisfaction from it. The elevator then stopped and the door opened. "Have a nice day," an automated female's voice came from the speaker as Mara stepped out. Mara always hated this office. Draped in colors of red that ranged from gaudy to garish, it was obvious to anyone that the top floor of the building had either been designed by a failed interior decorator or a madman. All the furniture was opulent and covered with red crushed velvet of varying blood shades. Everything in the room seemed to clash with everything else. Mara rolled her eyes and made her way across the room. "Maaaara," a sleazy voice drawled from off to the left. She paused and turned her head with a bland expression of disinterest on her face. "Lucifer," she acknowledged the devil lounging on a sofa. Also humanoid in appearance, Lucifer certainly was not the oldest of demons in hell, but he had weaseled his way to the top successfully, knocking aside his Babylonian predecessor in the process. An emaciated figure with slicked, wiry hair, Mara always got a distasteful sensation in her mouth when she saw him, not unlike that humans got when talking to used car salesmen. He was dressed in long and tacky silk robes that made most who saw him want to call the fashion police. "I can't tell you how much I am enjoying seeing you today," he smirked, "I've been trying to get your license pulled for over two years now, but He's always denied my request." "And I see you're still balding," replied Mara casually, "humans say that sorta thing runs in the mother's side of the family, except no one would ever admit to being *your* mother, so I'll guess we'll never know." "WORM!" Lucifer snarled, springing up from his sofa and drawing a hand back, crackling with energy. "I'm sure He'll be thrilled that you're delaying my appointment," commented Mara calmly, as Lucifer's fist stopped inches from her face. Mara smiled wickedly. "Yes, until He's done, you don't get to play with me," she grinned, "Maybe if you're a good dog, Lucy- honey, you'll get a few leftover scraps of me to chew on later." Lucifer slowly dropped his hand, his face enraged. With considerable effort, he calmed himself and stared down at the attractive demon. "It doesn't matter," he smirked, "I'm sure you'll enjoy the next few centuries in gut wrenching pain for your failures. Just remember from time to time, when you look up from whatever hell He has created for you, that I'm laughing at your downfall!" Mara kept her face artfully disdainful, but inside she felt herself quake a bit. Just because she was a servant of evil did not mean she was enthralled about the idea of being tortured. She was not about to let Lucifer know that, though. "I promise you," said Mara quietly, her eyes shining, "if I walk out of those doors in one piece, Lucifer, I'll see the day where I'm picking my teeth with your shattered bones." Spinning from the devil, who was still grinning maliciously, Mara turned on her heel and walked through the horrible room towards a pair of large and heavy double doors. They were sealed by the power of the Dark Lord, and no one but He could open them. Needless to say, you had to have an invitation to get in. 'Maybe they won't open,' Mara hoped as she came closer to the doors. Without warning or noise, the two doors swung wide into a room that shone with a glaring light. Mara was blinded momentarily. 'Damn,' she thought. a pleasant sounding voice echoed in her mind. With no small amount of hesitation, Mara walked though the doors as they closed behind her. Flopping down on a couch in the garish room, Lucifer picked up a remote control from a table and began flipping through a number of channels designed to spy on his potential rivals. Thinking about Mara's certain doom, he smiled. "Another one down," he chuckled, and continued to flip. * * * Everything was very bright at first. However, the longer Mara squinted, the more she could begin to make out details of where she was. Mara had never been in His suite before, and she had only known of a few people who had and returned to talk about it. As the level of light in the room lowered to a more manageable level, Mara was surprised to see very comfortable and urban office surroundings. There were no sign of evil, no whips and chains on the walls. In fact, the office of the Dark Lord seemed slightly like... the voice echoed in Mara's head. "My Lord," Mara breathed, bowing deeply. Though she could hear His voice inside of her head, looking around the room and its furniture, Mara found herself quite alone. The demon suddenly noticed she was shaking. the Dark Lord's pleasant voice commanded. Mara began to stammer. "M-m-y L-l-lord, I'm sorr-" the voice ordered again, "My Lord!" Mara cried, still more than a bit scared. Stumbling around slightly, she managed to take her seat in a plush office chair. She then waited for the Dark Lord to begin. He began, 'Busted,' sighed Mara to herself, raising a hand to her temple and waiting for the punishment to start. continued the Dark Lord, Mara's jaw dropped as she leaned forward completely stunned. "Obviously, my Lord," Mara interjected in a still shocked voice, "satisfying Your will would be the only priority for a successful career." conceded the Dark Lord, Mara's jaw dropped again. The Dark Lord admitting a mistake? Such a thing might never have been heard by a demon since time began and probably would not ever be heard again. the voice in Mara's head said with some annoyance. Mara blinked. "A leave of absence?" the voice commanded, "My Lord!" Mara agreed in amazement. Mara's shock evaporated and her eyes instantly narrowed as the implication of the Dark Lord's words struck her. 'I'm being groomed to take over Hell,' her mind screamed. "No one cares for Lucifer, My Lord," Mara said, shaking her head, "they simply fear his power. Morale would probably rise with some changes." Mara's brain, no longer paralyzed, began to work feverishly. Scratching the side of her head, she asked, "What if I didn't challenge Lucifer?" Mara gulped. added the Dark Lord before falling silent. Standing up out of her chair, her mind in a whirlwind, Mara walked over to the doors and made her way through them as they opened. Not even bothering to waste a glance at the stunned Lucifer, who was still on a couch, Mara entered the elevator and pushed for the lobby floor. The furious questions and threats from the devil fell on her deaf ears as she grinned wildly to herself. "A leave of absence!" she tittered happily as the elevator began its descent. * * * Slamming a small set of doors open in a rage, Lucifer, the chief executive officer of Hell, descended a dark and narrow flight of stairs. Musty and lined with stone, the cobwebs that crossed the tight space withered and fell away before they could make contact with the devil's body, as if sensing the rage. Lucifer had not been this irate in centuries. His mirth at seeing Mara punished for her failures was shattered the moment he saw her walk from His office with a smile plastered on her face. Even worse, after Mara left, was a commandment the Dark Lord had sent to Lucifer's desk which effectively said Lucifer could not interfere in any fashion with Mara without being destroyed utterly by the Ultimate Force. "Damnation!" the devil swore vehemently as he reached the bottom of the winding, stone staircase. In front of Lucifer was a narrow hallway, also made of dark stone, which had a series of doors lining its walls. Stalking down the hallway with his eyes on fire, he passed numerous doors bent on reaching the end of the hallway. Behind each of the heavy, wooden doors was a wretched soul, each of which had been spectacularly Damned or offended Lucifer. In these cells, the unfortunate beings, human or otherwise, would wait hopelessly in the black darkness for the next horror and terror to be brought upon them by whatever curse Lucifer had seen fit to bestow. Sensing the devil's presence through the doors, each of the Damned cowered in fear as he walked by. Finally, after several minutes of walking in fury, Lucifer came to the very last door at the end of the passageway. Not stopping an instant, the devil kicked the old door open with a bang and stalked inside the cell. "Ah, Eydaimon," he said in a terrible voice, filled with malice, "it's been a while since I was last here." As the little available light filtered through the open door and past the devil, the visage of a lost soul could be seen. Staring up through dirty and matted locks of brown hair, the creature winced and shifted hopelessly against the many lengths of chains that shackled him to the wall like heavy strands of a spider's web. Wincing in the relative brightness, the creature had the most gut wrenching look of lost hope on his face that anyone in history had ever adopted. Lucifer smiled. "I've had a terrible disappointment today," the devil continued, drawing nearer to the wall where the being was chained, "and I can think of no one more deserving of my wrath in all of the Underworld than you." The being known as Eydaimon's eyes glazed over as he turned his head away into a corner of the cell's walls. He knew what was coming; it had happened countless times before. In a pathetic defense, the creature tried to draw up a massive pair of broken and blackened wings. However, these were also chained to the moldy walls. "Yes," sneered Lucifer, "no one more deserving than you, Fallen Angel." Bidden by his command, the door to the cell swung closed as the devil began to laugh mercilessly. All down the passageway, the numerous ranks of the imprisoned began to moan and writhe in their cells, paralyzed in fear of Lucifer's cackle. And then the screaming began. * * * A dimension away, in the highest room of a building so delicate, its spandrels seemed to defy logic, Kami-sama opened his eyes and stared out a window that overlooked Paradise. With a passionless expression, He walked from where He had been contemplating existence and sighed. In an office of brilliant color and wondrous beauty, Kami- sama preferred to adopt a physical form in this plain of being. However, though any visitors invited to His office could plainly see their Lord, all of them would find it impossible to describe His features at all, no matter how hard they concentrated or tried to remember. Kami-sama, however, had no visitors at the moment, and His thoughts were far away from His appearance. The echoes of a scream from the depths of Hell had again reached his ears. So had it been for many, many centuries. There was nothing Kami-sama could do, for the voice of those screams was deep in the domain of His brother, the Dark Lord. With this last painful sensing of a Fallen Angel's anguish, though, Kami-sama felt for the first moment that events in Time and Space had moved to a point where there might be some hope. The cost might be tremendous, but it was still the first and only possibility He had seen since that terrible day. With a sense of purpose, He reached for the simple looking phone on His immaculate desk and pushed a rapid-dial button. There was a moment's pause before a voice on the other line picked up. "Goddess Relief Office," a voice answered cheerily from the speaker phone. "It is *I*." * * * As far as the eye could see, eight lanes of highway were completely filled with cars that were rapidly going nowhere. Piercing the darkness of a night that had only begun some thirty minutes earlier, the bright glow of headlights and taillights did more to illuminate the highway than the lightpoles high overhead. There was not an accident causing the traffic snarls that night, rather, it was the average evening traffic that Washington, DC experienced every day at rush hour on the Capital Beltway. Stuck right in the middle of the traffic was one twenty-seven year old engineer. Sitting in her old Blazer, the young woman sat despondently in the driver's seat with her chin resting on the steering wheel. Looking down at the digital readout on her stereo confirmed that it had taken her more than thirty minutes to go just two miles. Shivering slightly in the cold, December air, the engineer cranked up the truck's heater and resumed her dull staring at the traffic. Over the radio, a rather bland voiced man from National Public Radio read the news. Her name was Bonnie MacMaster, and against her better judgment she had decided to try to beat the traffic home. Having spent all day in the gray and chill of downtown DC at a field office, Bonnie had decided to head straight home after work was done and skip heading to the main office until the next morning. Driving from the National Treasury Building, where her firm was doing major masonry and stone refurbishment work to the old structure, she had tried to find a quick way to make it to her home in Old Town Alexandria, but had quickly been swept up in the slow moving traffic. At this rate, Bonnie figured glumly, she would not get home until well after seven. Looking out over the city, Bonnie was still suitably awed by Washington, DC's impressive view, even after five years of living and working around the city. Despite the low clouds and snow flurries that swirled in the air, the lights from all the buildings in the city did much to illuminate the area for miles and miles around. All the stone structures, however, looked even more cold in the snowy haze. Not that Bonnie was in any particular hurry to get home, though. It was a Friday night, which explained the exceptionally heavy traffic, and everyone was out on the roads to find some diversion in and around town. In fact, Bonnie was certain that at least one or two messages from her small circle of friends in Falls Church would be waiting, inviting her out for dinner and a movie. Another sigh escaped Bonnie at that thought. It was not that she did not enjoy going out with her friends, most of which she had met in college and had moved with to DC, it was just that over the past few years Bonnie had found herself to be the only non-married of the bunch. Bonnie was not the type of woman who found anything wrong with not being married, far from it, but more and more over the past few years she had seen most of her close and intimate friends leave her life to enter that institution called matrimony. Bonnie still got to see her friends, but not on the personal level she used to, and she missed that a bit. Combining with her feeling of isolation while stuck on the beltway, the close proximity of the holiday season, just a couple of weeks away, also served to put Bonnie in an anti-social mode that evening. She was acutely aware of the fact that her friends would be heading out of town for the Christmas holiday, leaving her pretty much alone in DC for the duration. Bonnie, herself, did not have any close family. No brothers or sisters, she was the only child of parents who had died about five years before, struck in their car by a drunk driver while on their way to her college graduation. Bonnie's friends had worried tremendously about her well- being after that tragic event, but Bonnie's parents had raised her to be strong and self-reliant, and the love in those teachings had done more to help Bonnie recover from the loss than any therapy, had she ever sought some, ever could. Still and yet, it was always a little difficult to make it through the holidays, though Bonnie's friends in DC had always done much to lift her spirits over the years. Eventually, an hour later, Bonnie managed to pull her Blazer up in front of her little home in Alexandria. All the houses in Old Town were of an eighteenth-century colonial period that Bonnie adored. Not more than twenty feet wide at the street, though, the house were flush against each other and two or three stories high. Stepping down from her truck, Bonnie was careful not to slip on a patch of ice that had already managed to form on the sidewalk since the sun had gone down. Taking another two or three steps up to the front door of her little home, she used her keys to unlock the door and step out of the cold air. Her home was simply furnished with the basic necessities. Though uncomplicated, the home was furnished and decorated also in a colonial style, with replicas of old furniture as well as lots of ironwork and pewter laying on old wooden shelves. Truth be told, living in Old Town was nothing short of very expensive, especially on the budget of a civil engineer, but at the death of Bonnie's parents, she had received a small fortune from them in life long savings and investments. She could have found something less expensive in Arlington or Falls Church, but her mother and father had also enjoyed aspects of colonial America, and it comforted Bonnie to be in similar surroundings. Walking into her home, Bonnie noticed two messages on her digital answering machine. Just as she suspected, they were from a pair of her married couple friends inviting her out for dinner. Bonnie thought about fighting the miles of traffic with a sigh as she shrugged off her jacket and undid the laces of her work boots. The one thing Bonnie loved about being a field engineer was not only getting to work outdoors directly on the projects, but also the more relaxed dress such work demanded. Three or four days a week, Bonnie was able to wear jeans and a nice shirt to the site, which was advantageous since she loathed shopping. Setting her boots down in the short, dimly lit hallway, Bonnie was slightly startled by the sound of her phone ringing in the living room. Entering the room and sitting on her sofa, the young woman reached over and snagged her cordless phone. "Hello?" she asked in a tired voice, "oh, hiya, Cathy, how was your week? Really? And how's Bill? That's good." Stretching out from where she was sitting, Bonnie reached with her big toe around the side of the sofa, feeling for a power strip. Finding it, she switched it on, causing hundreds of lights on her modest Christmas tree to spring to life. "No," yawned Bonnie, "I wasn't planning on heading out this evening. Traffic's bad and it's late... Yes, I did get those other messages from the gang. Look's like you're all heading out together tonight, right?" About five-foot-ten with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes, Bonnie had an athletic, but not scrawny, figure that came from getting a lot of exercise on the job. Sporting olive skin and soft cheek bones, she had that typical girl-next-door appeal that was the antithesis of the heroin-skinny model look. Bonnie listened a bit to the other end of the phone before putting a hand to her temple. "You didn't, did you?" she said, "You really invited a single guy along to meet me. Oh, Cathy... No, I'm not upset or anything, it's just I don't want you to feel that you need to set me up with somebody... Well, yes, I'm sure he will be disappointed, too, but I really don't feel like being out tonight, much less making chit-chat with a guy I've never met before." Reaching down for the cherry coffee table in front of the sofa, Bonnie picked up a remote control and turned on the little Sony television on the other side of the small room. She made sure the volume was down low. "Oh, I know you guys worry about me, Cathy," she nodded wearily, "but I'm fine, really, I am. I don't mind living alone at all. I mean, if I did I'd be out the door like a shot to meet this guy, right?" Standing up slowly from the couch, Bonnie walked from the living room with her phone in hand and headed into the kitchen. Opening up the refrigerator door, she reached for a Guinness. "Sure, Cathy," Bonnie continued, fishing unsuccessfully in a drawer for a bottle opener, "I'll be fine tonight, so please don't worry. Hey, I just need a little sleep tonight... Of course." Getting fed up, Bonnie used the flat end of a drawer handle to pop the bottle cap off. The agitation of the bottle caused the beer head to foam out over the top of the bottle and onto the floor. "Dammit all," swore Bonnie, "Oh, no Cathy, not you. I just spilled my drink on the floor. Tell you what, I'll call you and Bill up tomorrow afternoon or evening, and maybe we can do something together then? Sure, that'd be fine... No, you may not bring that single guy along, silly... Why? Because, I don't want the poor fellow to try when no guy in the world right now would stand a chance with me... Ya, really, Cathy... So, I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? All right, goodnight, you goof." With that Bonnie switched the phone off and headed back to her living room. Sitting back down on the sofa in the glow of her television and Christmas tree, Bonnie cradled her Guinness and looked at the television glumly. After hanging up the phone, she found herself feeling bummed for no reason whatsoever. Mulling over her beer, Bonnie thought perhaps she should have gone out after all, but the problem was she really did not want to socialize this evening. So why did she feel depressed about it? Bonnie did not really know. Her stomach growled. "I'm hungry," she muttered to the room out loud. A strange flickering coming from her television drew her attention away from the twinkling tree. On the screen, there appeared to be an exotic woman staring at her. Dressed in outlandish, yet sensual clothing, the woman had tanned skin and white-blonde hair. Bonnie leaned forward as the background in the television caught her attention. It looked almost like the inside of what she imagined a Japanese house might look like. Bonnie froze instantly as the woman in the television shimmered and seemed to be pushing her way through the glass into her room. Her jaw agape, Bonnie looked down at her beer and quickly panicked, wondering if she was having some weird reaction to Ireland's best. Turning back to the television set, Bonnie saw that now there were a pair of legs sticking out from the screen and more on the way. Stiffening into immobility, the young engineer sat motionless until the woman from the television had pulled herself all the way into Bonnie's living room. Just as tall as Bonnie, the outlandishly dressed female shook her long mane of blonde hair in annoyance. "Just once," she complained in a rich voice, "I'd like to be assigned to someone with a wide-screen." Looking around the room, the woman quickly spotted Bonnie sitting on the sofa with her mouth agape. Not a second later, she also spied Bonnie's beer. "Guinness, eh?" the beautiful woman smiled, "A good brew not far from my own neck of the woods. Have you got anymore? I can't *begin* to tell you how tired I am of sake!" "K-k-k-itch..." Bonnie tried to stammer out. "Kitchen? Great!" the woman exclaimed, "Be right back!" With that, she swept out of the room, her long and revealing robes following behind with a flourish. As Bonnie's head slowly swung around towards the hallway, she could hear her refrigerator being opened and bottles clinking around. Getting up quickly, she entered the kitchen wide eyed to see what was going on. "Don't have a bottle opener, do you?" the exotic woman asked. Bonnie shook her head, speechless. "No matter," she shrugged, taking the bottle and popping the top on a drawer handle just as Bonnie had done. Taking a long draught that almost emptied the bottle, the blonde sighed happily and looked up. "Now that's some good beer," she smiled. Bonnie finally found her voice. "Um... uh, who the hell are you?" "Me?" the woman blinked, "Oh, yeah, I forgot to introduce myself. Here's my card." She passed over to Bonnie a business card with flowing script. Bonnie accepted the card with a peculiar look on her face before looking down to read it. "U-urd," she stammered out loud, "Goddess Second Class, Limited License... what the hell is that? And why the heck are you in my house drinking my beer? And how did you come through my television?!" Urd rubbed her temple a bit and sighed. She had forgotten how spooked mortals tended to get around immortals. Looking at her bottle for a moment, Urd tipped it back and finished the last of the Guinness before tossing it into the trash. "Basically, it's what the card says," she explained with a shrug, "My name's Urd, and I'm here to grant you a wish. By the way, mind if I have another beer?" "A-a wish? A goddess?" gaped Bonnie, "Get real." Urd looked up from the open refrigerator door and smiled, "Oh, I am real. How else do you think I came through your television?" "W-well, I don't know," floundered Bonnie, "perhaps you... I mean, maybe it's... oh damn, I think I'm going to need another beer." "That's the spirit!" cheered Urd. Gathering Bonnie another beer, Urd closed the door and herded the dazed woman back into the living room. Selecting the sofa as a comfortable spot, Urd sprawled out with one leg thrown up over an arm, in the process exposing a good deal of leg. Bonnie did not seem to notice or care. "So," Urd continued taking a sip from her second beer, "what's it gonna be?" Bonnie looked up from the middle of the room where she was standing with a beer in each hand. "What's what gonna be?" she asked in confusion. Urd rolled her eyes. "Your wish!" she said exasperated, "Come on, Bonnie, try to keep up with me here!" "How do you know my name?" Bonnie asked in a shocked voice. "I've never met you before." "I actually read you file before coming here," the goddess commented offhandedly, "I didn't want to believe my sister, but I think it does make the job a little easier if I glance at a candidate's file beforehand." Bonnie was still out of it. "So, I get a wish?" she mumbled, "But why me?" "Beats me," Urd shrugged, "I just got a summons to show here to meet you and grant your wish. I guess I should warn you that you only get one wish, so make it a good one." "Just one wish," wondered Bonnie, "but what should I wish for?" "Why do they all ask that?" muttered Urd, "I don't know, hon. Whatever your heart desires, I guess." Still holding both of her beers, Bonnie slowly crouched down until she was sitting on her hardwood floor. A look of puzzlement crossed her face. "This is *way* too weird," she stated, "I have no idea what to wish for. I don't really *need* anything. Is there a time limit?" The goddess sat up on the sofa and pondered as she tapped her forehead with the side of the beer bottle. "I don't suppose there is," Urd conceded, "but I'd appreciate it if you hurried it up. There's this funny show back home I want to catch." "This has got to be a joke, or else I'm dreaming," stated Bonnie matter-of-factly. Urd shook her head. "Nope, hon, it's not a joke and you're not dreaming. Just make a wish and you'll see." "B-but I really don't know what to wish for," Bonnie admitted, her momentary bravado faltering. "Please, tell me what other people have wished for, so I can get an idea?" "Weeell," Urd thought for a moment, "I haven't done this sorta thing a lot, myself, but I hear common wishes are for wealth, fame, love, things like that. Of course, a number of times people make frivolous wishes in jest and end up getting something really silly. It all depends." The goddess looked down at the engineer, who was sitting on the floor, with compassion. "Don't try too hard, Bonnie," Urd said, "just think about what your heart's desire is and wish for it." Bonnie scrunched her brow up in thought for a moment before sighing. "It's not that easy when you really don't know what it is you want," she admitted, "I just wish I could figure out what my heart's desire really is." Urd sat up straight suddenly and blinked. Her eyes crossing ever so slightly, the half-finished Guinness slipped from her fingers and spilt all over the floor. "Hey!" exclaimed Bonnie, "you're making a mess! Watch what your - ulp!" A loud humming noise began to fill up the living room as Urd's eyes glazed over. Bonnie started to reach out towards the goddess, but yanked her hand back as Urd started to pulsate with energy and rise up off the sofa. Crying out in distress, Bonnie also saw that a huge wind was kicking through her living room and sending various objects flying, including most of her Christmas tree. "Whaaaaaah! Stop it, Urd!" she yelled, "You're destroying my house!" Bonnie was blinded as a bolt of energy sprang from Urd's forehead and lanced through the ceiling. And then, just a quickly as it had begun, the storm was over. With a plop, Urd landed on the sofa in a heap and the objects that had been flying around the room crashed to the floor. Bonnie opened her eyes from where she was sitting and found herself covered with lights, ornaments, and bits of tinsel. With an audible groan, the goddess pushed herself up from the sofa and put her hands to her temple. "Wish approved," she said, shaking her head. "WHAT?!" demanded Bonnie, her eyes wide. "B-but, look what you've done to m-my house!" Urd tried to smile a little sheepishly. "Uh, sorry about that." Bonnie's eyes glazed over as she brought her hands to her face and took a deep breath. * * * Neighbors up and down the street in Old Town Alexandria were enjoying a quiet and peaceful evening, right up until the point an anguished wail erupted from the MacMaster residence. * * * Coming up in Chapter 2: Urd and Bonnie try to figure out the ramifications of the wish, while Mara starts her vacation. Comments and Criticisms welcome. Mike McAvoy http://www.angelfire.com/va3/shenandoah/ Last updated October 15, 2001.