Xena, Gabby and gang belong to MCA, yadda, yadda but the rest are
solely creations by yours truly. This piece of work is of alternate nature
so if it icks you out for some queer reason, feel free not to read it...
I'm not gonna cut the flow of blood to your brain or anything, just well,
maybe take a wicked aim with my chakram. That is if I'm feeling baaaaaaad
that day. >:) No infringement of copyrights intended. No dinars are made
here anyway... I'm still a *broke* writer.

The big deal of The Uber-Adventures is that we get to see both our
2 fab femmes descendents/ reincarnates (whatever you choose to call) in the
New World. The world we live in today. There'll be some references to the
past now and there. If you haven't read The Eye Of Hera, go read it... it
might be of help... even if it doesn't, well, read it anyway. <grin>

If you haven't, you bad kid, gone to my group's XA webpage yet, make
sure you get there ASAP. Sign the guestbook and click around. There'll be
updates and stuff soon, promise. We all just need time. :) The address is

Right then, shall end my crapping here and just let you unto my
latest piece of work, yeah? And as always, pleasant viewing... (holler if
you need my help, I'll be armed with the kitchen knife).
Amazon Moon 1998 C.

Chapter 1: Beginnings

Abby Piers sighed as she wiped an invisible spot on the countertop.
She was a pretty blonde of eighteen, considered slight in size and height.
She wished she was taller than her 5"3 but she had been that height for a
long time now so she reckoned she had stopped growing. She would've made it
to college if her folks had the cash but they didn't. She knew she'd make
a great writer one day... she had written stories, mostly about damsels in
distress but they were too personal to be printed. Well, actually she had
never approached a publisher due to the fear of rejection. But she'll be
well-known one day. One day.

She now worked at her parents' chip shop, simply called Piers' Chip
Shop, on the wrong side of town. It was a family business consisting of her
parents, her younger sister Libby and their close family friend Peter. Peter
was Abby's bestfriend since she was four. They'd played together, ate their
meals together... even shared a bubble bath together (but that was when they
were five year old kids!).

Mr and Mrs Piers adored Peter and took him in warmly when both his
parents perished in a tragic boating accident two years back. To them, it was
just a matter of time when he would become part of their family. It was clear
to see that Peter loved Abby. In fact, he had just proposed a week ago. Abby
agreed to the proposal, under the pressure her parents gave. But she knew
she wasn't perpared yet and said she'd only marry when she turned 21. Peter
smiled and told her he'd wait forever for her if he had to.

Abby was confused. She'd known Peter so long now, and she had always
treated him as the brother she never had. He was a good man, a good soul.
And he had that kind of lovable dark floppy hair and warm brown eyes. But
somehow, she wasn't feeling as excitied as someone totally in love would
feel. Was she really romantically in love with him?

She pushed the thought away. What was worrying her now was their
financial problems. Business at the chip shop wasn't good. And the thugs
from down the street had been pestering them constantly for the monthy
protection fees they had to pay. If the money doesn't reach them by next
week, they swore they would burn the shop down. Abby sighed again.


Abby jerked her head up, startled. She had been so deep in thought
that she actually didn't hear anyone enter. Her startled green eyes met
soulful pale blue ones. She gasped unintenionally. The stranger before her
was a good looking man, equally strapping and dashing in the leather jacket
he wore. His long black hair hidden inside his Indiana Jones-like hat.
His hat casted a mysterious shadow over half of his strong face. Abby
held her gaze for a second too long. Definately not from around here.

"Uh, sorry, wha-what can I get you?" Abby stammered as she put away
the cloth, turning to face the stranger. He could have been in his early
thirties. Was he married? Nah, didn't look like it. Abby blushed... by the
gods, what was she thinking? She was already attached to Peter-

"What's good around here?" the stranger drawled, leaning over the
counter and rubbing his chin. He looked tired and hungry. He had a fighter's
hands; tough, tanned and strong, Abby observed. This stranger took her breath
away, he was... so different from the usual crowd that came. So intriguing...

"Well...," Abby blinked as she took a deep breath,"the fish and
chips aren't bad." She watched as the stranger rose to his full height,
he was at least a six footer. Abby could sense the hard biceps under the
leather. She sneaked a peak past his shoulder and saw an unfamiliar shiny
motorcycle parked outside. The Harley had to be his. Abby smiled subconsciously.
Talk about style.

"All right then," the stranger gave a dazzling white smile and a
deft shake of his head,"I'll have the fish and chips." He walked away from
the counter and settled down at a table. He took out a cigar from his pocket,
skilfully lit a match against the table, and began to smoke. He blew cloudy
rings in the air and Abby watched them dissolve into nothingness as if she
had been held transfixed by the mesmerising stranger.

"One fish and chips coming up," Abby mumbled as she walked into the
kitchen. She had never seen such a dazzling smile before, Her heart felt
like it had dropped to the pits of her stomach. One thing she knew, Peter
had never had this sort of effect over her before.

"Whassup? Trouble out there?" Peter asked her as he looked up from
chopping meat. He looked at her concerned,"Abby, you okay, honey? You looked

Abby smiled tightly as she shook her head,"Nah, no trouble at all.
Customer wants an order of fish and chips. Make it snappy." Just then, Libby
came through the backdoor, a frantic look on her face. She looked flustered
as she slammed the backdoor. Her pale face was flushed and her puffing cheeks
were a bright pink.

"They're coming," Libby told her sister. She cast a worried look
behind her. She swallowed hard and turned to Peter,"Peter, do something!"
She had hardly finished her sentence when they all heard a big commotion
outside. They took a peek outside the kitchen door.

The gangsters were there, making a racket again. They wanted them to
pay the monthly protection fees. Libby trembled and hugged her elder sister.
Abby looked on helplessly and turned to Peter. He gulped. He wasn't the type
to fight things out.

Abby cleared her throat,"I'm talking to them." Before they could stop
her, she opened the door and walked outside to face the unruly ruffians. She
carried a heavy rolling pin behind her, just in case.

"There she is," the gangster Abby knew as Drake sneered as Abby came
behind the counter. The ruffian had numerous tatoos, even on his bald shaven
head. He had many body pierces too. And a disgusting one protruded out from
his lower lip. His cold lusty eyes reminded Abby of a snake.

Drake's partner, the thug whom everyone called Rock, suddenly took
her by the neck and shouted in her ear. "When are you going to pay up, you
stupid wretch?" He started strangling Abby, shaking the girl like a rag doll.
Abby dropped her rolling pin in surprise and it clattered onto the shiny
mopped tiled floor behind her.

"Now that's no way to treat a lady," a voice called out from behind.

Rock turned his bulky 6"5 frame around, his grip still on Abby's
neck. He saw himself looking down at a stranger, some guy in a dusty hat and
leather jacket. He frowned when the end of the stranger's cigar lited up
intimidatingly. He glared at him. "This is none of yer business, go get yer
hairy butt outta here!"

Rock was just about to turn back to the hapless girl when he felt
the wind knocked out of him. He released Abby as he clutched his stomach. The
stranger had hit him. Hard. Rock grunted menacingly,"Nobody gets away with
hitting Rock!" He was in the midst of getting up and throwing a punch over
into the other man's face when he felt someone land a heavy blow down the
back of his neck before landing a hardy punch on the side of his face. Rock
vomitted out water before collapsing unto the floor in a heap.

"Well, somebody does now," the stranger said quietly as he bit down
on his smoking cigar. He looked over at Drake, who stood there quaking in
his shoes. He had forgotten completely about Abby's presence, his shifty
eyes only focused on the dangerous stranger before him, who had
single-handedly taken on his friend, the unbeatable Rock, who now lay as if
dead on the floor.

The stranger tilted his face slightly, so only his cold blue eyes
could be seen under the rim of his hat. He glared at the frightened hooligan
with his powerful gaze. "Want some?"

Drake shook his head so hard, any harder it would've rolled off his
shoulders. "N-n-no."

"Pick up your friend and get yer asses outta here," the stranger
ordered,"... and don't you let me find you in here anymore or..." The end of
the cigar glowed warningly. "...or you'll be a couple of dead ducks."

Drake nodded his head like a bobbing toy and slung his fallen
friend's arm around his neck. He then half-carried and half-dragged Rock
away from the place as fast as he could, his face pale and his lips quivery.

Abby realised she had been staring at the stranger for at least ten
seconds with her mouth agape. She found her manners and thanked him
immediately. "Thank you. Thank you so much, for saving me and-"

The stranger held out his hand, stopping her from gushing. He blew
out the cigar smoke before turning back to her. "Just hurry up with my food,
lady. I'm starving." He gave a small smile, a hint of the weariness inside.

"Right, of course," Abby grinned at her saviour before rushing back
into the kitchen. Bursting in, she exhaled. "Did you guys see that?"

Libby nodded her head,"That guy was terrific- he beat the living
daylights outta that hulk. My hero." Peter kept a sullen silence.

"Well, your hero wants his food right now," Abby pointed,"...heroes
need to eat too, you know." She took the plate Peter handed her before
hurrying out.

"Do you think I'm a coward?" Peter asked Libby when Abby was out of
earshot,"...because I didn't go out there? What would Abby think of me?" He
sighed as he looked away dejected.

Libby wiped her hands before squeezing his hand,"C'mon Peter, Sis
knows you're not that type of fighting guy. She'll understand." Peter kept
peeling the potatoes, a sullen look on his face.


"Here you go," Abby grinned as she settled the hot plate infront of
the stranger. She could have sworn she heard the growl of his stomach. She
watched him dig in hungrily. "It's on the house."

"Thanks," the stranger said between mouthfuls. Looking at him, Abby
wondered if he hadn't eaten for days or what. He seemed desperately
famished. She pulled a chair and sat opposite him.

"My name is Abby," Abby introduced herself. She contemplated
offering to shake hands but reckoned he needed both hands to eat. She bent
closer and smiled at the man before her,"...what's yours?"

"Luther," the man looked up from his plate, slowing down on his
chomping. He swallowed down the food. "My name is Luther." He proceeded back
to his food again. The plate was nearly empty.

"It was incredible, the way you took on that guy," Abby started, her
hands starting to do a frantic dance. She grinned at Luther,"You were
fantastic! Thank you so much for saving us... I doubt those morons will come
here after that showdown, woo!" She looked back at Luther, who was still
facing his plate.

"So uh, Luther," Abby tried to sneak a peak at the blue eyes hidden
under the rim of hat,"'re not from around here are you? Where are you
going? Is that bike outside yours? If it is, it's cool- it's a Harley isn't
it? Do you-"

Luther rolled his eyes up wearily, without Abby knowing. Geesh, this
girl sure was a chatterbox. Luther looked up from his now empty plate and
looked at the sunny blonde before him. She stopped what she was saying. He
decided to answer her questions,"Thanks, thanks again, you're very welcomed,
that's very good, no, somewhere, yeah, thank you, yeah again. Anymore
questions?" Abby kept silent, her cute mouth slightly opened. Luther mouth
curled into a dry smiled. "Good." He got up to leave.

"Hey wait," Abby suddenly took hold of his hand,"...where are you
going to? It's nearly dark. You've got to take me with you please, don't
leave me here." Her green eyes stared pleadingly into his. Her lips quivered

There. She'd said it. It just came from splurts from her brain. She
wasn't fully aware she'd said all that until she heard her voice with the
strange plea with her own two ears and noticed Luther's expression.

Luther nearly did a double take. "Lady, you don't know what you're
heading for." He tried to pry her hand away. She gripped it tighter.

"I do, and I don't like the way it currently looks," Abby answered,
determination shining brightly in her clear green eyes,"...please Luther, I
promise I won't be a drag." She didn't know what came over her. But she just
knew that she had to leave this place... it was driving her nuts. She wanted
to explore the world. He just had to take her.

"Abby, no," Luther said gently as he released her hand,"you don't
know me." He turned to leave. Abby watched sullenly as he got out the door
and sat on his motorcycle. She watched as he slowly pulled away, ready to
roar away from her life. Her life. What was she going to do next? Do the
dishes? Peel the potatoes? Fry onions?

"No!" Abby stood up, tearing her appron away. She hurridly scribbled
a note to her sister on a napkin and left the place, hurrying after Luther.
She had to find him. She just had to. She quickly hailed a cab.


Luther roared off into the night on his trusty motorcycle, Argo,
named after the famous ship in ancient Greek stories. He had quite a bit of
excitment, nearly enough for the day. It had been five's been so
long. He had to serve time in jail for the crimes he had done. You could say
it was all behind him now, but wht's been done cannot be undone. The memories
and guilt would always be there. To haunt him.

He was going to visit some old friends. Going back to his sweetheart
Dahlia. All these years in jail, he had missed her so much. He had been
unfair to her, hadn't loved her enough. But now he was back, and he had
changed his ways. He was going to marry her. He even had the ring safely
tucked inside his coat pocket.

Luther increased sped. He couldn't wait to see his bestfriend Clay
too. He wondered how he was. Five years, Luther mused, many things happen in
five years. Yeah, he couldn't wait to reach Paolo's, the bar they'd always
hung out at.


"Hurry, please, don't lose that bike!" Abby told the cab driver as
she frantically kept her eye on Luther's bike. She couldn't afford to lose
sight of him.

"All right, lady,"the driver gruffily reassured her for the seventh
time."We've got 'im on his tail."

Luther finally stopped his bike and parked outside a happening pub
called Paolo's. Abby noticed this and squealed for the cabbie to stop. She
pulled out a fiver from her purse and hopped out, chasing after Luther, who
had already gone inside.


Luther adjusted his hat so that it covered most of his face. He
wondered if the regulars were still around. And if anyone recongised him.
The place didn't seem to change much. Luther recongised some people. People
he associated with five years ago. He passed them. No more shady business
for him anymore. He had a new life to lead.

"Dahlia," Luther whispered when he caught sight of her. He smiled.
She hadn't changed all that much. Sure she had changed, but he could still
recongise her. She had kept her auburn hair longer then when he'd last seen
it and it went past her slim waist. She had put on weight too. And she
seemed so happy too, Luther noted. The pretty pub singer was laughing and
she had this gay twinkle in her eyes. Those eyes, Luther shut his eyes,
remembering those deep gray pools. He had to go up to her now.

She had finished her song and smiled brightly, sliding off the stool
gracefully, her guitar in hand. Luther was just about to stride up and
embrace her when a small child, barely four years old came running up to her
with his small arms held open. His features were hauntingly familiar. He
giggled as Dahlia picked him up. "Mommy!"

Luther froze in his tracks. A happy looking man stood beside her,
a proud smile on his face as he fussed his young son's dark hair. Luther
reconigzed him. They had been best buds since forever. It had to be Clay.
Even though he had put on weight, grew a mostache and removed his earrings.
Luther slumped dejectedly when he saw the similiar gold bands they wore on
their fingers. Clay and Dahlia, they were married.

He had to get out of there. Leave Poalo's and never come back. He
had never felt so betrayed before. They even had a kid, for god's sake.
He bumped into a burly giant in his blindness. He knew who it was. It was
Fatman Cyclopses, the mean nickname everyone at Paolo's gave the ruffian
after Luther himself had blinded him in one eye in a brawl years back.

"You!" Luther heard the man roar, his breath thick with alcohol.
"What are you doing here?" He raised a heavy hand to strike but Luther was
quicker in his reflexes. He slammed a mighty punch into the giant's gut,
venting his frustrations of the betrayal.

Fatman fell unto a heap on the floor and people moved away as he
hit the ground. Luther was back. He looked at the fallen man on the sweaty
floor, disgusted. He brushed his hands and went off to another corner,
breathing heavily.

Luther felt a part of him die and he leaned against the wall for
support. He sucked in some air and willed himself to stay calm. But before
he knew it, hot tears spilled down his cheeks. He felt betrayed. It smerted.
It hurt. His Dahlia and bestfriend Clay. "Damn," Luther swore before heading
to the washroom. Tonight was definately not one of his favourites.


Abby entered the bar self-consciously. Cigarette smoke and the smell
of beer hung thick in the air. Abby waved away the smoke and ventured inner
into the pub, like a little innocent lamb venturing into hyena grounds. Both
had no idea what lay ahead. Abby fumed. Where was that Luther?

"Hey beautiful," a skinny man in a seedy tweed coat leered at her,
a mug of beer in hand. His ratty breath stank of alcohol. "Can I buy you a

"No thanks," Abby polietly stepped backwards, away from the man. In
doing so, she bumped into none other than Fatman Cyclopes. And he wasn't
looking very friendly. His gut still hurt where Luther had hit him. He grunted
and Abby gulped,"sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"What's a girl like you doing in a punk house like this?" Fatman
questioned, eyeing her up and down as if undressing her with his eye.
Abby saw the dirty brown patch over his right eye and realised he was blind
in one eye. "Anything you're planning to sell?"

Abby shuddered and she knew it wasn't about the temperature. She
shook her head and tried smiling polietly. "Well no, I uhm, I was looking
for a friend of mine. He came in here."

"A friend?" the giant gleamed, his burly arms crossed against his
thick chest. "Here?"

"Yes," Abby nodded. "His name's Luther, know him?"

"Luther?" Fatman snarled, his black teeth showing. It wasn't exactly
a pretty sight. Abby cringed and swallowed weakly. Then suddenly, the man
broke into a chilling smile and took the girl by the hand. "Come with me,
any pal of Luther's a pal of mine."

He brought her upstairs, to a room tucked away in a corner. He
pushed Abby in and locked the door after him, his one eye gleaming with
madness. He stretched out his thick arms, roared, and rushed forward like
a charging bull.

"Wait!" Abby yelped as she ducked and hurried over to another side.
"What are you doing?"

"Fatman hates Luther!" the giant screamed as he tried advancing again.
"Luther made me blind!"

"Whoa, wait," Abby held out her hands. "Listen to me first... I, I
hate Luther too."

Fatman dropped his jaw, his eye wide in surprise. "You do?"

"Well, yeah I do," Abby shook her head, a mean smile curled on her
pretty lip. "I told you I'm a friend but pah! Wait til I get him. I'll
give him a trashing that he'll never forget."

"Wait a sec," Fatman paused to think, something that happened once
in a blue moon. He scratched him head. "But how can a girl like you teach
Luther a lesson?"

Abby stared at the floor before jerking her head up, her green eyes
bright and scheming. "That's what Luther would think. How can an innocent
looking thing like me get him. Well, I'll trick him and lead him here into
this room where you'll pummel him, finish him off once and for all. How 'bout

"Yeah!" Fatman pumped a fist into the air, thrilled by Abby's brillant
idea. "

"So now you stay put in this room and get ready when I bring him in,
okay?" Abby instructed as she walked out of the room backwards. "Be sure
to stay here and *don't* go anywhere!"

With that, Abby closed the door and briskly walked away. She smiled
as she looked up at the fanciful ceiling. "Thank the gods for dumb Fatman

She was going down the stairs when she saw Luther leaving the scene.
She rushed over, careful not to lose sight of him and tugged at his jacket
when she reached him. She looked at him breathlessly as he turned around to
face her, raising his eyebrows in surprise.


Luther took her to a cosy cafe and got her a warm drink. Abby sat
across the table, quietly sipping her hot chocolate. Luther seemed different,
a little depressed. His eyes seemed misty too.

"Let me get this straight- you followed after me and went into Paolo's
to look for me?" Luther asked Abby softly, as if he was upset with her. Luther
shook his head,"What were you thinking?"

"I-I wanted to escape," Abby explianed,"I wanted you to take me with
you so I-"

"So you followed me?" Luther demanded, an eyebrow raised.

"I'm sorry," Abby apologized. Please don't turn me away, please.

"No," Luther looked up, blue eyes blazing,"...*I'm* sorry."

Abby raised both her eyebrows questioningly. She didn't understand.

Luther sighed. It's been so stressful. He shook his head wearily.
"I should've told you. I'm not who you think I am, Abby. I'm- I'm no saint.
I've done time... I just came out from a five year sentence. I was a monster
-- like those guys down at Paolo's, just much worse. I lead them. We burned
shops, destroyed homes, broken up families, killed people... we were like
demons. But I got tired of it and... changed. I betrayed my own men to the
CIA and made them do time. I'm someone with a... past."

Abby kept silent, her eyes glued to the contents of her mug. Luther
sighed fustratedly. Now what would she think of him? Nothing could change
the past... no matter how much he tries to repent, his ugly past would catch
up with him. It was no use.

"I admire you even more."Abby whispered as she gently put down her
mug, her green eyes staring at him intently.

"What?" Luther fluttered open his eyes. Did he hear what he thought
he just did? He looked at her as if she'd said something crazy.

"Yes, you're trying to atone for your mistakes... you're working for
the greater good now," Abby reasoned,"... you should be proud of yourself. I
am." She reached over and squeezed his hand.

"Wait, I- I'm not done yet," Luther took his hand away, a wave of
guilt passing over his face. "My name isn't exactly Luther."

"No?" Abby studied his face,"But the people there called you that."

"Yeah, I know," Luther sighed. It was a petname Dahlia had given him
a long time ago, when they were having it almost every night.

"Well then, what is it?" Abby probbed, interested.

Luther ripped off the fake goatee and removed his hat. Long dark
hair tumbled down in waves and Abby found herself facing one of the most
beautiful women she had ever seen. Luther smiled. "My name is Dena."





"Dena?" Abby echoed hollowly, her green eyes wide with surprise. She
gripped her mug and stared at the woman before her. "You're a *woman*?"

"Yes I am," the dark woman smiled as she softened her voice and shook
loose her hair. Her blue eyes had an interesting twinkle as it caught Abby's
bewildered expression.

"You're Dena," the young girl gulped. "As in Dena Ambers?"

"Yeah. How did you know?" Dena eyed her carefully with her crystal
blue eyes.

"No, it's just that... you're a living legend. Who wouldn't know Dena
Ambers and her gang? Everyone." Abby said truthfully, still in a bit of shock
that the tough woman before her was the legendary gang leader.

"I'm that famous, huh?" Dena shook her head surly as she swirled her
dark coffee.

"Why did you pretend to be a man called Luther?" Abby asked, her green
eyes searching for answers. "Why are you in disguise?"

Dena Ambers exhaled slowly, her eyes faraway and distant, as if
searching for a memory lost behind her head. "I got tired of my way of living.
My eyes opened up one day and I realised how wrong I've been. I had to change.
I couldn't live with all that slaughter, with innocent blood and guilt on my
hands. I had to stop."

Abby clasped her hands as she watched the intriguing woman speak. She
was fascinating. She decided to ask questions only after she had finished.

"I betrayed my gang for that. The Mafia wasn't exactly pleased. I did
my time with the others and now I'm out. But they'll be there to get me, I know.
I've broken our code and betrayed them." Dena said bitterly, the outline of her
strong jaw could be seen under the dim light of the place.

"So that's why you came in disguise?" Abby saw the woman nod. She folded
her hands and looked across. "So what are your plans now, Dena?"

"I've got to undo the deeds I've done." Dena stared through the glass
window into the empty night street. "I'll be travelling, helping people get
those thugs off their backs. And stop them completely."

"Can't I come too?" Abby pleaded. "We can learn lots from each other."

Dena was just about to stick to saying no when she realised she had
made a couragous effort to leave home after a stranger and go through a place
like Paolo's. She grimiced. "All right, but you've gotta take care of yourself."

"Right on," Abby smiled as she reached over to squeeze her hand but Dena
brushed it away.


They slept on the rooftop of a flat, empty building. It was nothing to
Dena, she was as tough as a nail. Abby had to make some adjustments though. The
night was chilly and the floor was damp. She slept fitfully in her thin sweater
and jeans. Dena shook her head at the stubborn girl and closed her weary eyes.
It's been some day.

She opened them two hours later and found that Abby was shivering in her
sleep. She wasn't used to this. Dena strided up to the sleeping girl and covered
her with her warm jacket before going back to her own corner to rest. It would be morning soon.


Abby woke up with the sun in her face. She was holding something warm
over her. She rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes and looked down to see what
it was. It was Dena's leather jacket. She bolted upright and looked around. She
was no where to be seen. Abby had a sinking feeling that Dena had left her.
She called out uncertainly, trying to keep her tone calm. "Dena?"

"Had a good rest?" a voice asked her as Dena's head popped into view.
Abby looked up and Dena jumped down, landing on the floor infront of her. She
had her bag with her. She tossed a wrapped sandwich over to Abby.

"I thought you left me," Abby handed Dena back her jacket as she helped
her roll up the canvas slips they had slept on. "I'm glad you didn't."

Dena smirked silently as she folded the rolls into the backpack. She
wasn't used to this whole thanking business. It sounded so strange.

"And thank you for lending me your jacket," Abby went on, oblivious to
Dena's soft sign. "It was snug."

"Shut up and eat your breakfast," Dena scolded. She wasn't annoyed,
well maybe a little. But she was embrassed. She didn't have to be so polite.
"...before the damn crows get it."

Abby chewed on the sandwhich, savouring the taste in her mouth with each
bite. Her famished stomach growled like a starved beast and she grinned embrassedly. "This is good, thanks."

Dena gave her a brief nodd before going back to refilling supplies into
her trusty brown leather backpack. "Enjoy." As long as the kid didn't ask what
kind of meat was inside the bread, everything was going to be okay.


They travelled out of the town and entered another. By then, it was early
afternoon, with the midday sun high over their heads. Abby sat behind Dena as they
rode the powerful Argo through the streets. They went past a bank and immediately,
Dena pulled Argo to a stop.

"What?" Abby questioned as Dena hopped off the motorcycle, her lips pressed
firm and her blue eyes narrowed to slits. "What's going on? Dena?"

Dena coolly put on her slick looking sunglasses. She wore no disguise now
and had her dark hair pulled back into a plait behind her head. She was dressed in
black and looked good enough to swoon. Dena frowned. "The bank. There's a robbery
going on."

Abby quickly scrambled off Dena's bike and followed after her. She watched
from behind how Dena's well toned arms swayed in her tight black singlet and the
long confident strides she made in her black pants. Her boots made no sound as
she walked on the chipped pavement.

They were a couple of steps towards the bank when its door flew open and
two masked men can rushing out, their loot in hand. Abby saw that they were armed
each, with a gun. She bit her lip and tried to gear her mind for action.

"Hello boys," Dena grabbed one of them from the back of his neck. She
smiled as she threw a punch at the face of the other one. "Been bad?"

The flustered robber tried using his gun but Dena kicked it out of his hands
and sent it flying before he could even pull the trigger. She elbowed the guy in the
stomach savagely before throwing an upright fist, catching him under the chin and
sending him flying on top of his partner, who was just begining to get up.

Both guns were beyond their reach now and they were too beaten up to get
up and run. A crowd had come over to watch and following Abby's cue, they started
clapping. Police sirens were soon heard coming down the street.

"C'mon, let's go," Dena took Abby by the arm, leading her to Argo.

Abby tried looking into her eyes but her shades were too dark. "Dena? Why
not stick around, let the cops praise you and stuff."

"Too much of a hassle," Dena grunted as she gunned the engine and they rode away.

They rode down a few blocks before stopping by a diner. It looked very
much like her chip shop back home, Abby mused as they got off and sauntered into
the cheap diner. It was not a good time, Abby realised. The people in there were fighting.

The gangsters off the streets had came in to make a racket, Abby realised.
They were asking for a large sum of money which the owner was reluctant to give.
The racket was beginning to drive customers away.

"All right," Dena suddenly hollered, her hands by her hips and her long legs
apart. "What's going on?" Abby came from behind her and stood by her friend, trying
her best to look as intimidating as she could. She had to practise.

The owner of the diner was a brunette woman past her prime. She must have been
beautiful once, Abby observed but her face was now lined with worry and her eyes were
weary and sad. She looked over at Dena before turning away, as if filled with disdain.
"I don't tell strangers my problems."

"No wait," Abby told the woman as she eyed the burly men warily. "Let Dena
help you. She's good..."

"She never wanted to help in the first place," the woman turned around hotly,
her eyes suddenly going red. "Why would she now?"

"Dena," one of the thugs came forwards, a cocky grin on his greasy face. He
crossed his muscled arms infront of his bare chest and took a walk around her, his
shifty eyes studying her. "Welcome home. Must be a sweet family reunion... Mommy and
and her prodigal daughter."

"Shut up Spike," Dena snarled, her blue eyes glowing under those dark glasses.
"And get out of here if you still can. No one bugs my mother. Not with me around."

"OOh," Spike pretended idiotically that she nearly bit him. "I'm scared.
Aren't we all, boys?" He laughed wildly, like a crazy hyena. Big mistake, Abby shook
her head firmly.

Dena suddenly had him by the back of his neck and gave him a quick, hard jab
on the side of his neck with two sturdy fingers. He had scarely uttered a sound when
blood started dripping from his nose and he became weak. Very weak.

"I've cut off the flow of blood to your brain," Dena smiled as she told him.
"You'll be dead in thirthy seconds." Abby shuddered at Dena's smile at such an icky
situation. She was scary.

Spike had collasped to his knees and his blood was dripping down his chin. He
tried to struggle but it was no use. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe. All he
could feel was the numbing pain.

"Tell your men to call it off," Dena hissed into his ear. "Never come back
to this diner again."

Spike waved his hand limply and nodded, the whites of his eyes showing. He
spluttered, cold sweat beginning to form on his forehead. "Promise... never... come
baccck," He fainted.

Dena immediately gave him another quick jab before leaving him in a heap on
the floor. He was alive, just unconsicous. She gave a quick commanding jerk of her
head to the rest of Spike's quaking gang. "Get him outta here and don't show your
faces in here ever again."

They followed her orders like scared school boys, hurridly dragging their
leader out of the place. Abby smiled, impressed. After she made sure none of them
turned back, Dena walked up to her mother. "Hello Mother."

Celine stared coldly at her daughter as Dena removed her shades. They had the
same eyes, Abby noted as she came forward. Celine looked away, refusing to look her
way. "It doesn't mean that everything's okay since you got rid of those men."

Dena sullenly folded her glasses and looked away. She sighed. "I know. It
doesn't. I'm sorry."

Abby stepped forward. "'Mam, I'm Abby and I'm from Pier's Chip Shop. Dena,
she helped me the way she helped you. And on the way, she stopped a bank robbery
from succeding and..."

"Why bother, Dena?" Celine questioned the tough woman before her, her angry
eyes ablaze. "Your brother is dead because of you. You can never undo what you've
done to me. To everyone."

Dena was quiet for a moment then she replaced her shades, as if trying to hide
her emotions. "She's right," She said flatly as she walked out of the door, past Abby.
"I can't change everything."

She didn't take her bike but continued her journey on foot so Abby didn't
worry. She wasn't going to leave her bike behind. Abby decided to stay to talk with
the woman."Look, I know you probably hate your daughter for all the wrongs that she'd
done but really, she's trying to change. She's done time."

Celine wiped away her tears, shaking her head slowly as she sat down on a
chair. "No, she'll return to her old ways, just you see. Trouble will start all over

"Why don't you just give her a chance?" Abby pressed on, taking the chair
opposite the woman. "Everyone deserves chances. I know you love her, as much as she
adores you. She's trying hard to change, Celine. Why not help her?"

Abby squeezed Celine's hand and the older woman looked into Abby's innocent
green eyes. "All right. I will." Abby smiled. Dena owned her one.


"Hello Lucas," Dena greeted her brother's tombstone as she sat down on the
turf of grass beside it. She was at the town cemetary, where they had buried her
younger brother Lucas nearly ten years ago. It had rained during the cemetary and she
knew everyone, even Celine, had balmed her for his untimely death. He had only been

Dena stroked the well weathered tombstone lovingly, as if feeling his face.
She tried controling her tears but they came anyway. Her first tear in years. She
removed her shades, showing her sad blue eyes. She hurriedly wiped away her tears
with the back of her hand. She hated it when she got like this.

"How've you been, Lucas? Enjoying yourself in the Elysian Fields?" Dena
smiled as she pulled out the straggly weeds around his grave. They had been great
big fans of ancient Greek mythology. Their old grandaunt Mel had been a great
influence on that area in the family. Too bad she died three years before Dena was
born. She would have enjoyed the stories she'd tell of her travels with other

Lucas loved those stories Celine would tell them at bedtime, stories of the
old heroes and their courages deeds. Lucas had a puppy once, before it got rolled over
by a car. He named it Argo. And as a tribute, Dena named her machine after her little
brother's pet doggie.

"It's so hard, you know," Dena lit a match by the side of his stone, watching
the flame burn then die off. "No one will ever accept me. For who I was, for who I am.
And all those things I had done."

She tossed the match away and lit another, staring into the flame. "If only
Mother would understand and take me back. I'd have the strength to carry on with this
new life again."

Dena's voice wobbled with emotion. She was no longer the slick confident
fighter. She was now like a sad kid whose pup had died. Her fingers rubbed against
the rough stone. "I love you Lucas, always."

The stoic woman got up and dusted herself, making sure that there were no tell
tale signs that she had shed any tears. To make sure, Dena replaced her glasses and
took a last glance at the lonely rock with her brother's name on it. She smiled wanly,
her eyes on his nearly-rubbed out name. "Goodbye."


"Dena, where have you been?" Abby demanded as she jumped out her chair the
instant the woman strided in. "You've been gone for hours!" Celine was seaten quietly
in a corner, studying the fascinating floor.

"I had to be alone for awhile," Dena said quietly as she pulled up a chair in
between them. "With Lucas."

Celine looked up and smiled. "You went to visit your brother?"

"Yeah." Dena ran her tongue over her dry lips. "Always have."

Celine smiled as she looked into the distance, as if telling something from
memory. "I remember fondly, you and Lucas were absolute nuts over those ancient Greek
bedtime stories. Lucas especially. He adored Hercules."

Dena smiled a little, remembering those innocent years. "Yeah, he'd pester you
to always tell him stories of Herc and Ullyses. Always."

"Well, you were into them as well," Celine looked at her grown-up daughter."I
remember so well." She reached over and placed her hand over hers. "So well."

Dena jerked her head up at her mother's touch, her mouth slightly opened. She
whispered, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "You do?"

"Yes I do, Dena," Celine smiled through her tears. "Every little detail."

"You forgive me, Mother?" Dena asked. Lucas must have been watching over her
in the fields. Celine had soften to her. Or maybe, yes, it had to be. It was Abby's
doing. She had convinced Celine somehow.

"I do, Dena," Celine squeezed her hand.

Dena smiled a grin she hadn't done for many years. She went over and hugged
her mother. Not wanting to spoil the moment, Abby stole out and decided to get some
more clothing 'cos she was going to need it, travelling with Dena and all.


It was after dinner and Dena was upstairs with Abby. Celine was still downstairs
tending to her customers before they closed for the night. Dena had showered and was
drying her wet hair. She was wearing nothing underneath her white bathrobe. Abby was
staring outside the window, silently reciting one of her favourite poems. She wondered
how her parents were taking it, her sudden leaving and all.

"Abby?" Dena suddenly called out, her damp towel in hand.

The blonde turned her green eyes on the woman by the side of the bed. "Yes?"

"Come here a sec," Dena gestured beside her. "Sit down, I won't bite."

Abby obeyed but her eyes were questioning.

"Look," Dena started, tossing the damp towel aside as she faced the girl. Her
robe opened up momentarily and Abby got a peek of her left breast. She swallowed and
tried looking away. Dena didn't seem to notice. "Abby, I'd like to thank you for talking
to my Mother and all. You've been a big help."

"Nah, it's nothing," Abby turned back, a grin on her face. "I owed you one,
remember? For saving my chip shop."

"But thanks anyway," Dena thanked warmly before turning in for the night. "We'll
be leaving tomorrow morning, Abby. 'Night."

"'Night," Abby whispered as Dena turned off the lights. She climbed into the bed
after Dena, her body just inches away. Her mind was a whirl. What, just because she saw
another woman's breast? But she couldn't sleep at all, not with the thought of Dena's
body beside hers. But she couldn't, could she? Dena was a woman afterall...

"Can't sleep?" a voice drawled beside her. Abby stopped tossing and sat up on the lumpy mattress, her blonde locks all awry. Dena followed suit. Abby blinked long and
hard in the dark. She could vaguely make out the shape of her compainon beside her. She
sighed. "Sorry, did I disturb you?"

"No, I couldn't sleep either," Dena confessed in the darkness, her voice just a
little past Abby's ear. "My mind's still too awake."

"Yeah," Abby confessed, wondering if Dena still had the robe on her in the dark.
She realised her perverted thought and shut her eyes in the darkness, hating herself for
it. What was she, a lesbian? She had Peter back home. Or did she really want it?

Dena shifted herself in the dark to face Abby. She didn't want to hit the switch. That would ruin everything. "Dinar for your thoughts?" Now where did that
expression come from?

"Dinar?" Abby laughed softly. She smiled and tried reaching out for Dena's hand
in the dark but found her breast instead. She immediately withdrew her hand. "You into
Greek culture?"

The brunette shrugged in the dark, trying to make out Abby's flustered face.
"Just the ancient stories. Nothing much, really."

"Well, I've got to tell you this then," Abby perked up, her voice proud. "My
grandaunt, she was one of the greatest archeologists ever lived!"

Dena let a slow smile crawl on her face. "Really?"

"Uh, yeah," Abby closed her eyes. "She found the Xena scrolls in Marcedonia,

Dena paused immediately and sat right up. "The Xena scrolls?" She hissed.

"Yes, *the* Xena scrolls. She was Janice Covington." Abby added.

"J-Janice Covington?" Dena gasped. "Oh my." She slapped away her hand on her
chest. It was such a sissy move. Ick. But she knew that name, hear it before many,
many times in her youth. In her grandaunt Mel's storries.

"You've heard of her, haven't you?" Abby grinned in the dark. "Well, she was
said to be a descendent of the famous Greek bard of Poteidaia-"

"Gabrielle." the two said together.

There was silence for awhile and with Abby around, silence was a very rare thing.It hung uncomfortably in the air. Abby cleared her throat, her eyebrows raised
gently in the dark. "Dena? How did you know?"

Dena laughed uncertainly. "Well, there aren't many great poets in Poteidia are
there?" Especially one which was a certain warrior princess' partner and companion and
also rightful Queen of the Amazons. She was glad for the dark now, it hid her like a

Abby took in a deep breadth. "Dena, is there something you're not telling me?"

There was a slight pause then Dena decided to tell. Abby wouldn't laugh at her
now, would she? "My grandaunt was an archeologist too. She worked in Marcedonia in the
1940s too. Her name was Mel. Melinda Pappas."

"Mel Pappas?" Abby felt as if an icy cold hand had given her heart a squeeze. She recongized that name. She had aided Janice Covington in their quest for the Xena
scrolls. And now, she, a descendent of Gabrielle, had met another of Xena's
descendents. It was such a small world!

"Yeah," Dena picked at the bedsheet. She had never disclosed so much to a
stranger before. She had never had anyone follow her and live before either. Was Abby
special? Yeah, she supposed so. They were connected, somehow.

"Then they knew each other," Abby realised, glad that she had followed Dena. She
balled her fists. "They were friends! Like us."

"Maybe more than that," Dena said simply. But that mere statement left Abby
thinking alot even after Dena went to sleep.


Abby finally fell into slumber but in doing so, found herself caught in a
wierd dream. She had never seen old grandaunt Janice before, she was born some years
after her death. But through old yellowed photographs, Abby knew they were cut from
the same cloth. They looked pretty much the same, just that Abby never smoked and
had no idea how to crack a whip or use a gun.

But right now, she knew her dream was not taking place anywhere in the
present. It had to be in the past, somewhere before her time. Abby found herself
in a dark place. It looked like some ancient tomb, with its crumbling ruins. She
stopped short in the flickering darkness when she thought she saw someone ahead of
her. She frowned but proceeded on.

"Hello," a smooth voice coming from a shadow called out. It blew out rings
of cigar smoke, the end of its cigar glowing a brilliant ornage in the dark. Abby
tried making it out who it was but she had no idea. The figure stepped out of the
shadows and into the sallow yellow light.

Abby saw herself starring back at her. She gasped. The appariation before
her was garbed in tough archeologist gear. She tied her blonde ponytail back in a
clasp and had an Indiana Jones hat over her face. She was chomping on a cigar and
her lips were twisted in a grin. Abby realised that they had the same green eyes.

"W-who are you?" Abby backed away from the woman before her. It couldn't
be Janice Covington, could it? Why would she appear in her dream? Abby backed away
and bumped into someone behind her. She uttered a gasp and whirled around, meaning
to see who it was but she only saw a dark figure. "Who's there?"







"It's only me, Gabrielle," another lookalike emerged from the shadows,
showing her face in the harsh yellow light. She was dressed in a green blouse
showing off her flat abs and a short skirt that complimented her shapely legs.
She was nothing like Janice Covington who stood behind her dressed in men's
clothing. "Don't be afraid, we won't hurt you."

"Gab- Gabrielle?" Abby asked uncertainly, her mind misty. She held her
hands to the sides of her head, trying to figure what was going on. "Wait, what's
going on here?"

Janice Covington walked from behind her and stood beside the Amazon bard,
the lighted cigar between skilfull fingers. "We're ancestors of yours, Abby. And
we wanted to talk to you about... certain details."

"Certain details?" Abby raised her eyebrows, looking from Janice to
Gabrielle. "What certain details?"

Gabrielle smoothened her short skirt and looked up, her green eyes locked
on her descendent's own. Yes, they were certainly family. "Abby, the Fates have
decided. You and a descendent of Xena's will play our roles. Fighting for the
greater good."

"You mean with Dena?" Abby asked. Dena was related with Melinda Pappas
who was a descendent of the infamous chakram carrying warrior princess afterall.
"Dena Ambers?"

"Yes, exactly," Janice Covington nodded, replacing the stogie between
her lips. She grinned like she liked the sound of her name. "Dena Ambers."

"So this is some sort of quest, striving for the greater good in the
present ages." Abby realised, thrilled that she was the chosen. "Cool."

"Now don't go sounding like Ares," Abby warned about the Greek god of
war. "Now remember Abby, you've gotta stick to Dena no matter what. You've got
lots of things to learn from each other."

Abby nodded, pleased with the vision. "Okay, I'm game."

"Is Mel's appointment over?" Janice growled, finishing her cigar. "We've
got some... agreement on and I'm in a hurry."

Gabrielle smiled. She had a similiar appointment with Xena too. "She
should be done now. Come along now, Janice and goodbye Abby. Good luck."

The two disappeared into the shadows, as if by evaporation. Abby was left
standing all alone. She was wondering what to do and where to go when suddenly
the floor beneath her fell opened and she felt herself fall forever.


Somewhere in Dena's dream...

Dena Ambers found herself in her day clothes, armed with her gun under her
leather jacket, a throw knife in her boot with some metallic miniture boomerang-
like throwing discs hidden under her sleeve. Argo was parked beside her and she had
her shades on. Looking around, Dena found herself out of place. She was on an old
wooden bridge, right smack on the middle of it and under her was a great abysis.
What in Tartarus was she doing there?

"H-hello Dena," a feminine voice said uncertainly. Dena turned her head to
the direction of the woman's voice and found an uncomfortable woman in 40s style
clothing. She wore glasses and her dark hair was tied up in a bun. "I'm Mel. Mel

Dena leaned against Argo and the bridge shifted a little, making the
scrambling translator stumble for a good hold on the rickety old bridge. She looked
flustered, as if she was not used to this. Dena removed her dark glasses and smiled
at the bumbling woman. "Mel? As in Melinda Pappas?"

"Yes, technically also your grandaunt, mother's side," Mel tried sounding
dignified, with a hand on her heaving chest. She was trying to calm herself, Dena
supposed. Mel Pappas looked over Dena's shoulder and her eyes went wide. Her lips
trembled and she whispered. "Oh my."

Dena whirled around, waiting to find some enemy to attack. She drew her
gun from her jacket, ready to shoot when something landed directly behind her. She
stiffened when she felt a warrior grasp her shoulder and gave a short chuckle.
"No need for that, Dena."

Dena turned around, her jaw locked and her eyes ablaze. She was about to
throw herself at the new comer when she dropped her jaw in surprise. Standing
before her was a stunning woman almost six feet in height with a powerful frame
to match. Her well toned body was evident. The well known warrior woman was
dressed in her armour, metal chest plate and all. Her infamous chakram gleamed
at her side. "Xena?"

"In the flesh," the warrior princess grinned with a toss of her head.
Mel came over, her arms by her sides, afriad to fall. She stood behind Xena and
huffed in her petty woman way. "And thank you very much, Warrior Princess, for
that dramatic enterence. You could've killed us all."

"Mel, you can't die again if you're already dead," Xena muttered dryly,
as if she was no fun. She truly wondered if she really was her descendent and
not of one of her lookalikes'. She would have fitted Princess Diane's catergory
perfectly. Sheesh.

"I thought as much," Dena crossed her powerful arms and studied her two
famous ancestors. "What's the plan?"

"She's smart," Xena turned to Melinda, pleased.

"Yes, well..." Mel nodded in agreement as she adjusted her frames.

"What's the deal guys?" Dena questioned. "What's this board meeting for?"

Xena got into business again and straightened up. Mel stood at attention,
her gaze fixed on the warrior who looked like she was just about to begin a speech.
Dena raised an eyebrow questioningly. She was waiting...

"You come from the line of Xena, and you've been chosen, in this lifetime,
to fight for the greater good. There will be many challenges for you and your
companion on this journey but stick together and you will help mankind," Xena
told her. Then she quietly added. "And atone for your past mistakes."

"Companion?" Dena frowned. "Who?"

Mel answered the question eagerly. "She will come from the line of
Gabrielle. Either directly or indirectly."

"You mean Abby?" Dena wrinkled her nose at the name of th little,
innocent teenager. She didn't like the sound of the kid poking her nose into
all this fighting-for-the-greater-good business. "You've gotta be kidding.
She's not--"

"Don't you under-estimate her," Xena warned,"That kid's tougher than she
looks." She smiled at their similiarities. Dena was like the modern version of
herself. And the deeds will be the same. The Fates were reliving Gabrielle and
Xena's lives in their chosen descendents. On the quest for the greater good.

Dena shrugged but she knew Xena had to be right. She nearly always was
anyway. "All right."

Mel smiled. "Great, now Xena, can we get back to the fields?"

"The fields?" Dena perked up. "As in the Elysian Fields?"

"Yes it still exist, Dena," Xena told her. "Just maybe called other names
by other people of different tribes... er, places."

"Then you've seen Lucas?" Dena urged.

"Once or twice," the warrior told her. "He's a *very* lucky guy."

Dena had to digest what she meant a little. She watched them leave, as if
via evaporation into thin mists of air then she was all alone on the bridge with
Argo. She heard a sudden shattering creak then lost her balance momentarily. She
had hardly scrambled back up again when she saw a part of the rickety bridge break
away and she fell headlong below, her hands clawing wildly.


"AAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Abby screamed as she bolted
upright in bed, her PJs soaked in cold sweat. It was only a dream, she swallowed,
only a dream.

"AAAAAAaaaaaaarrrrrrrgghhhhh!" Dena screamed wildly beside her before kicking
their shared blanket to the floor and sitting upright in a dazed state. Her hair was
all awiry as if she had just hiked through a forest.

They looked at each other. "AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhhh!"

It was almost seven in the morning and the early rays of sunshine entered through their window. It would be light soon. A sleepy eyed Celine burst through
the door, plastic curlers still in her hair. "What? What happened?"

Abby and Dena paused, both looking confused and sleepy eyed. Then Dena
chuckled sheepishly. "Ah, just a bad dream." Abby agreed with her.


They got ready to leave right after their early breakfast with Celine
downstairs. Abby helped get their supplies ready while letting Dena spend some
time with her mother before they left.

"You could stay here a little longer, Dena," Celine told her daughter
as she engulfed her grown child in a mother-daughter hug. "There's no rush,
is there?"

Dena smiled sadly as she slowly pulled away, her gaze still lingering
on her mother's gentle features. "You know I have to leave, Mother."

"Yes," Celine sighed. "I understand."

Dena clasped her hand on her mother's shoulder and squeezed it gently.
"Thank you."

Celine watched as her daughter left the restaurant, her stride confident
and secure as she went around to her engine where Abby was waiting, gunned it
and rode away. Please watch over her Lucas, Celine prayed silently as she watch
her daughter leave.

********************************** [ THE END ] ***************************************

The 3 characters portrayed by Renee O'Connor have got nothing to do with a
certain "three naked Gabrielles". Street pigeons were harmed and placed between
slices of bread.


Yep, this is my first attempt at writing an uber series with Dena and Abby as
Xena and the Gabster's decendents. There'll be more adventures of the duo so stick
around and be nice. All kind comments to go to, thank you. It
would be great if you, as the reader, could drop a note or say hello. :-)

All right then, happy holidays, may your X'mas be merry and Xenatized! Until
next time, battle on good citizens! Amazon Moon 1998C.

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