With immaculate timing, Roarke, Harry, Ariel and Cal began their walk down the dock as the guests began filing out of the plane. This way the guests could see that there were people to greet them, but they weren't immediately swamped by their overly helpful holiday co-ordinators. This made them more relaxed and therefore more submissive to the fantasy simulations. Roarke had understood why once, but time had washed away many such memories.

"Right," Roarke rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "First we have Johnathan Ives, single parent of an infant. His wife was killed during an alley robbery and now he wants to protect his daughter from the world."

"Which will only drive her further away as she grows," finished Ariel.

"Yes. Next is Lara O'Brien who hasn't been coping with the pressure of exams and the expectations placed upon her. Now that her exams are over she faces a three month wait before she can find out how she did. She wishes she didn't have a care in the world…"

Cal groaned and they all turned to look at him in surprise. Roarke raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Well, it's obvious what's going to happen isn't it? She'll stop caring about public perception and become unruly and we have to keep clam no matter what she says or does."

"Mmm, well just remember that. I'm sure she'll be full of apologies by the end of the week. She's not a bad person, it's just that 17 years of schooling and the pressure of the last 7 have taken their toll."

Roarke turned back to the plane. "Third is Jeremy Laussen who enjoys rallying in his spare time. This year he took it more seriously and joined the state competition. As luck would have it he was spotted by a talent scout for the Subaru team competing in the FIA World Rally Championship. Now he wants to be the best."

"Is he travelling alone?" asked Harry.

"Yes, all our guests are this week."

"Then who has he got his arm wrapped around so tightly?"

They looked closely at the plane. Though it was difficult to see the figure, it was clear that Mr. Laussen was helping someone who was very unsteady on their feet off the plane.

"I didn't think they served alcohol on the plane." Ariel muttered.

"They don't and it's not allowed on board." Cal hesitated, "Is it?"

"No, that must be our final guest for this week." Roarke furrowed his brow. "I'm not sure about this one. Her name is Michaela Walsh and she's looking for absolution."

"Absolution? From what? Surely they're not old enough?"

Ariel looked closely, Michaela was now laughing at her own imposition, she appeared to be in her mid-twenties.

Roarke shrugged and continued down the dock. When he reached the guests Michaela was sitting down propped up against a pole. He looked at her inquiringly. She smiled. "I'm afraid my legs haven't recovered from being on water yet."

Johnathan sat, hidden in the undergrowth, by a babbling brook, in tears. He could not remove memories of his honeymoon from his mind. He and Andrea had wanted to do something different, and decided you couldn't get much more different than to go camping in a remote area. They had flown to Tasmania in Australia and hired a little boat to take them up one of the rivers off a small bay. For two weeks they were completely alone together. They bushwalked, swam, fished, and made passionate love at nearly every picturesque place they found. They had vowed to return on their tenth anniversary, but now he'd be damned if he even went to Australia.

The vivid images of those memories danced, tantalizingly real, of the tumbling waters of the brook. A silent tear escaped down his cheek as he remembered whispering to Andrea as they drifted off to sleep, "If I died now, I would be happy. My life wouldn't have been wasted." When you're young and in love, he thought. He continued to look down at the images in the water, until they were shattered. He blinked, trying to figure out why the image had disappeared. Then another stone was thrown into the brook. He looked up, on the other side of the bank a girl in her mid teens was throwing stones into the water. "Hey, what are you doing?" Johnathan called out.

The girl continued to throw the stones as she spoke. "Oh I am sorry," she sneered sarcastically. "Please, teach me a moral lesson while at the same time molding me in your own image."

Johnathan looked at her in confusion.

"Please teach me how to behave correctly, according to your outdated ideals."

"That's… that's no way to speak to an adult…" Johnathan said quietly.

"For a child to speak to their elder or for an adult to speak to their peer?" the youth rebutted undeterred.

"But you're only a child…"

"You bloody 'adults' are all the same. For your information I'm not a child. I am 16, at which age you adults decide to hold massive balls for all the 16 year old girls to make their debut into society. In many countries around the world I'm already entitled to half my 'adult' rights. In other countries I'd have been married off by now and have had a couple of kids, but do you think that I'd be treated as an equal? No, you're too interested in reliving or extending your own childhood through your children. Saving them from the mistakes you made, which in the end were essential to the development of your self identity."

"Why are you so bitter?" Johnathan asked as he struggled to comprehend what the girl had just said.

"Why? Because I'm sick of living the life my Father wanted. Study hard and have the world at my feet by the time I left college."

"Surely that's not a bad thing…"

"Gee, wasn't expecting that response," she mocked in a sing-song voice. "Except that it gives you no time to live. No time for friends, for fun, for the time wasting activities children are supposed to participate in." She shrugged. "Anyway, it back fired on him didn't it. When he brought me here, I saw a chance to escape. I faked my own death and he left without me."

"How did you manage that?"

"It's easy enough." She smiled to herself. "I set it up like a suicide too. Got to watch him become overwhelmed with grief and remorse when he realized what a shit parent he had been. Of course by this time, as far as he was concerned, it was too late to do anything about it. His 'Little Princess' was dead."

Johnathan was shocked. "That was a horrible thing to do! You saw how upset he was when he thought you were dead. All those years that he had supported you now worthless. All the love and affection. Raising a child doesn't come cheap either, all the mon…" he let the sentence drop.

"All the money? The thing you have to ask yourself is was he upset about loosing me or the years of wasted resources?"

"A parent always loves their child." He said defensively.

"How old is your child? A few years? They'll have barely begun to develop their own personality. How can you say for sure that you will always love them?"

"You're too young to understand these things!" Johnathan yelled angrily.

The girl smiled. "The prosecution rests. I'm obviously not getting through to you." The girl turned and disappeared in the undergrowth, leaving Johnathan to think about what she had just said.

Back in Roarke's office Michaela stood staring at her right hand. She rubbed her thumb slowly across her fingertips and shuddered at the sensual tickling sensation it created. Slowly she made her way across to the bed, marveling at the feel of the carpet on her feet. As she walked she let her dress slip off her and left it on the floor where it glowed for a few seconds before changing to the color of an unlit light globe. She lay on the bed covering herself with the cape. Gently she placed her hands on her forehead and slowly dragged them down her body. Quiet sighs of ecstasy escaped her lips as she made her way down to her feet.

Ariel stalked down the corridors irritably. Why'd Roarke have to spring this on her now? He'd just walked in from his stroll with Michael the Mystery Man and decided that the guests and principle staff would be eating together tonight, excluding him. She stopped outside one of the doors and composed herself before knocking.

"Come in," came the absent reply.

Ariel opened the door and stepped inside. "Ms. O'Brien, really. Haven't you come here to relax?"

Lara looked sheepishly over the history book she was reading. "You can never have too much knowledge."

"What happens when your brain liquefies and dribbles out of your ears?"

Lara giggled. "I hate when that happens. But seriously did you know that before Clarence Birdseye – as in the Birdseye food company - thought of the concept of frozen food, he collected frogs for a zoo? That's a pretty big mental leap – or, then again, maybe not."

Ariel nodded, though she hadn't a clue who Clarence Birdseye was. "Mr. Roarke has asked me to inform you that tonight the guests are to dine with the principle staff. Dinner will commence in half an hour, casual dress – and no reference books," she added as an after thought.

Lara giggled again. "Okay, okay, I get the point. This is supposed to be all about relaxation. Thank-you for the invitation."

Ariel nodded and left.

In his room Roarke examined Michael Walsh in the mirror. At first it was off putting and his mind tried every possible explanation for what he was seeing. It was difficult to face the fact that you knew you were staring into a mirror, yet it wasn't your reflection that you saw. A gentle breeze brushed past his ear.

"What's is like?" it sighed.

Roarke span around. "Huh?"

"What's it like to be on the other side of the mirror?" The soft touch of the voice tickled his ear.

"It's confusing," he said, turning back to the reflection.

"What a debonair figure you cut. Such a sweet, naïve face." The breeze suddenly became bitter and cold. "How things change."

"What do you mean?" There was no answer, instead there was a knock at the door. He went to answer it. "Hello, Ariel was it? Nice to meet you. Please come in."

"Thank-you Mr. Walsh." Roarke stood back out of the way as Ariel's slim figure ducked past. He shook his head. "Why on Earth does such a sweet girl like you stay on this isolated Island?"

"There are many reasons, but that is not why I came to see you." Ariel narrowed her eyes at Michael. There was something in his manner that was uncannily familiar to her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "Mr. Roarke has invited all of the guests to a meal with the primary staff tonight…"

"Did he?" Roarke raised an eyebrow. "Imagine that. Tell me, is he this sociable and friendly when the guests aren't around? In your opinion."

Ariel was suspicious of the question. "That is not why I came here. Dinner will be in half an hour, casual dress."

"Would you care to accompany me?"

"I'm afraid the seating is prearranged by Mr. Roarke himself, so there's no-way I could change it." She made a mental note to seat him as far away from her as possible.

"You're sure there's nothing you can do? Such an intuitive girl as yourself?"

"Positive."

"Oh well, I look forward to your company."

"Yes," Ariel said dryly. "I'll see myself out." She ducked out through the door before Roarke had a chance to stand. As Roarke looked after her the television in his room turned itself on. The Indiana Jones movie 'Raiders of the Lost Ark' appeared on the screen at the part where the powers contained in the Ark killed all the Nazi. "Oh, come on. I was only trying to be friendly." Roarke called out. "It wasn't that bad was it?"

The channel changed to show an episode of 'Get Smart.' "Missed it by that much," uttered Maxwell. "Hmm, I'm more rusty at this than I thought." Roarke continued to watch the television. "What show is this anyway?" On cue the title appeared at the bottom of the screen. "'Get Smart'," Roarke read aloud, missing the pun.

"Leave this on would you? It'd be nice to see what the world's up to."

Lara stood in her bathroom, preparing for bed. As she put her toothbrush away she pulled a container out of her toilet bag. She read the label. "Not a care in the world," she whispered and put the container back in the bag. She turned the light off and went to bed.

Roarke sat and waited, as he had done most of the night. After he had taken the aspirin and experienced its effects he developed a taste for things of the flesh. He had gotten himself drunk just so he could remember what it felt like. He had taken a ride in the simulator Jeremy was using but found that thanks to the alcohol, he was more skilled at crashing than he was at sliding the car through the tight curves. So instead he tried to create the most spectacular crash he could.

As he stumbled out of the simulator and rapidly into the garden he tripped down the stairs, spraining his ankle. He found the pain and numbness of his foot an exhilarating experience. Minutes later when he threw up all the alcohol he had consumed he was equally enthralled, though he was more interested in having more of theses 'new-fangled' aspirin tablets.

Finding himself in the wee small hours of the morning, Roarke decided to do some thing he had never had the cause or the inclination to do… before. He had often heard the romantic guests reminiscing about it and wished he could do it too. While he may not have his beloved on his arm, he realised this was going to be the closest he would get for most of eternity.

He decided to stay up all night just so he could see the sun rise.

He star gazed to fill time. To one side he could see the North Star and several signs of the zodiac, though he was too many years out of practice to name any of them. On the other horizon winked the Southern and False Crosses. He smiled as he remembered the time Harry and Cal had used the False Cross in an attempt to reach Australia and ended up marooned.

Slowly, but surely, the sky on the east horizon began changing shades, effortlessly and imperceptibly sliding from through green until a thin band of gold appeared. He stood up and walked to the edge of the cliff as the top of the golden orb sent ribbons of light streaming over the ocean. "Can you hear it?" The question too Roarke by surprise, causing him to loose his balance and fall. He struggled to stop himself falling off the edge.

"They wouldn't have let me fall would they?" he asked dejectedly after he had regained his balance.

"Can you hear it?" Michaela asked again looking out at the sunrise.

Roarke followed her gaze. "Hear what?"

"The sunrise." She closed her eyes as she listened. "The angel's chorus and nature's accompaniment. The herald of a new beginning."

Roarke looked at Michaela in puzzlement. All he could hear was the rhythmic crashing of the waves below. He was taken aback to see a tear appear on the silhouetted face and run down the outline of Michaela's cheek.

"No." she said finally. "You wouldn't be expected to listen for it."

Roarke was unsure of what this meant, it had been a long time since he had been unsure of anything.

Michaela turned to face him. "Do it Roarke. Do what you came here for."

"You mean jump?!! They'd never allow it, just because you're in my body. Besides…"

"That's not what you came here to do," Michaela cut him off calmly. "you came to soar."

Roarke grinned sheepishly and turned back towards the sea. He stretched his arms out to the side, closed his eyes and snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. As he stared in disbelief at his on fingers he heard the dull clicking sound from behind him. Instantly winds sprang up from off the ocean. Roarke span around to look at Michaela. "Surely you didn't expect to keep your powers during our little exchange?"

Roarke did not answer, he was spellbound by what he saw. The wind blew Michaela's cape back, revealing her luminous dress, which put the sunrise to shame. In the halo of light that surrounded her there was a visible arc towards the black depths of the cape. He marveled as he thought of the power that would be created when she wrapped the cape around herself, bringing the two materials in contact.

As Roarke thought Michaela slowly walked up to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. To Roarke it felt as though feathers were tickling his skin. Gently she turned him around and extended his arms. "Fly," she whispered into his ear. "Fly away from this place." They stood together.

"This is almost like Titanic." Roarke turned around, but he was alone.

Back in the main building Johnathan and Lara were looking through the guests' library. Johnathan made a selection of child raising books and headed to the reading area where Lara sat with a book about weather.

"Listen to this," she said as he sat down. "You know how tornadoes and cyclones turn in a counter-clockwise direction? Well apparently in the Southern Hemisphere, they turn clockwise. Well the cyclones do at least, they don't get tornadoes down there."

Johnathan nodded. "Just the same as water going down the drain. Opposite there from here."

"Wow, you've been to the Southern Hemishpere? Where'd ya go?"

"No, uh, I haven't been down there. I just read it in a book." He finished lamely, but it convinced Lara.

"Books on parenting huh? You can never be ready for when kids come into your life. Totally changed my friends' lives. But when the first one went off to kindergarten this year, they were watching the clock to see when she'd be back." She chuckled as she remembered. "How old's your little… what was her name?"

"Megan Andrea. She's 21 months."

"Oh, you've still got a year or so before then. Have you got her onto the 'Teletubbies' yet? Or that 'Bananas in Pyjamas' show from Australia?"

"Definitely not. 'Teletubbies' is too brainless for a growing child."

"I actually don't mind it, although I use it as unthinking stress relief so that probably doesn't count."

"And as for that Australian show, I wouldn't trust anything form down there."

"Hey don't knock 'em. They do a lot of great medical research down there. One of the countries closest to discovering a cure for cancer."

"It's a nation of convicts!"

"Hey, their beginning was exactly the same as ours – a penal settlement for England. They jut haven't had a war of independence, not that they need to. Got the monarch wrapped around their little finger. Besides, you've gotta love those furry little animals. Kangaroos, Platypuses, Wombats and Koala Bears…"

"Koala."

"Huh?"

"It's jut called a Koala, not a Koala Bear. They get rather thingy about that."

Lara was about to point out that he'd just said he hadn't been there when she realised he didn't want to talk about it. "Well enjoy your reading." She stood to leave, and felt dizzy. Her knees buckled under her and she fell, but Johnathan jumped up quickly to catch her. "With reflexes like that it's obvious you're a parent."

"Are you okay?"

Lara put a hand to her head. "Yeah." She fell again and Johnathan caught her. "No."

"I'll take you to the infirmary."

"No, that won't be necessary. If you could help me back to my room though, that would be appreciated."

When she was back in her room, Lara lay on her bed and glanced at the bathroom. "Not a care in the world." She whispered again.

For the fifth time today Jeremy sat in the car accepting the trophy for winning the World Rally Championship. He yawned and made vague gracious gestures towards the adoring fans. "Off!" he yelled out, realizing he didn't have to go through this yet again. He sat drumming his fingers on the roof off the car. When he reached a decision he slid off the car and headed for the door.

Michaela walked back to the hotel from the bar. As she crossed the lawn she was intercepted by Roarke. "Mr. Walsh, what can I do for you?"

Roarke looked around. "I wanted to ask you about my fantasy," he whispered.

"It's all right Mr. Walsh," Michaela whispered back. "Any discussion about your fantasy would reveal who you really are." She smiled to herself and continued up the stairs into the lobby.

"You said that I could go back and see how the things I left behind turned out."

"That is correct, on the condition that you make no attempt to reach the staff on a new level in your new form. You can communicate with them, certainly, but no more than is necessary. I assume that after last night you have a fair understanding of where those boundaries lie?"

Roarke winced at the memory. "Yes, I understand all that. I want to know how to start. How do I go back, or forward, or whatever?"

Michaela raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You are eager to begin, that's not something I expected. Especially since I have arrived during the anniversary."

Roarke hoped he kept a blank, unknowing expression each time she mentioned 'the anniversary.' After all these years he was still trying to forget.

"Very well, but first there are some things you must consider…"

"Hey, Mr. Roarke!"

Both Michaela and Roarke turned to see Jeremy approaching them from the other side of the lobby.

"Yes?" they both replied.

Jeremy gave Roarke a strange look and turned to face Michaela. "Mr. Roarke, I'm ready to take it on."

"Are you sure you are ready?"

"I've won the simulator six times now, setting a quicker pace each time. I've never been more ready."

"Well then, this way please Mr. Laussen," she gestured out to the front lawn where Harry pulled up driving a golf cart. "This will take us to the track."

She turned to Roarke. "Mr. Walsh, we shall continue our conversation later."

When Jeremy arrived at the bedlam that was the rally site he was immediately whisked away to the Subaru camp for last minute checks with the car, leaving Harry and Michaela to wander around.

"I must say, sir, you have certainly excelled yourself."

"Thank-you Harry. I have to admit, it was rather enjoyable setting this one up." Michaela stopped in front of a television that was showing the telecast of the rally. Something suddenly occurred to Harry. "Sir, all these people aren't staying at the hotel are they?"

Michaela laughed. "Would I do that to you?"

"Quite frankly I wouldn't put it past you." She turned to glare a Harry who realized what he had said. "Well… I mean… Not to say…"

"Interesting. No Harry, they're not staying at the hotel. I've created a small town with ample accommodation deep in the jungle on Scotty's turf, much to his delight." She turned to watch the telecast.

"Welcome to the 1999 Fantasy Rally coming from the secluded Fantasy Island."

As the compare spoke images of the island, including the resort, were flashed up on the screen. "They're not going to like this, sir."

"Relax Harry, it's just a fantasy."

"It seems a lot for one fantasy."

"I'm just setting him up for a big fall."

"The Fantasy Rally is a temporary addition to the rally calendar," the telecast continued. "Replacing the Rally Indonesia until it is appropriate to return."

"Clever," congratulated Harry. Michaela smiled.

"Though some drivers would prefer to see it become permanent." The telecast showed Richard Burns, one of the younger drivers, with a beach occupied by scantily clad girls in the background.

"I'd have to say this rally has the nicest setting," said Burns. "It's the only place where you really don't care about the times. I could happily stooge along the stages," he laughed. "Accept that it'd cost me my job."

Harry raised an inquiring eyebrow and Michaela shrugged. "It pays to advertise. Keep Fisher busy."

"The rally covers all types of surfaces from tarmac to sand proving a nightmare for drivers and making tyre choice critical." Juha Kankkunen appeared on the screen. "I would definitely say this has the potential to be the toughest course of the year, especially if it rains."

Someone tapped Michaela on the shoulder. "Mr. Roarke, we're ready for you to start the rally."

"I'll be right there." She turned to face Harry and smiled. "Tell me, is my tie straight?"

Harry shook his head. "Perfectly, Sir."

She smirked and followed the marshall.

Johnathan sat drowning his sorrows at the bar. He finished his drink and motioned for Cal to get him another one. As he waited songs of prayer danced over the breeze to his ears. He turned to see a small, black congregation on the dock. "What's going on over there?" he asked as Cal placed the drink in front of him.

"It's a funeral."

Johnathan sculled the drink and motioned for another. "Tell me Cal, do you have police on this island?"

"No, why do you ask?" Cal placed the drink in front of Johnathan.

"Just wandering if there was anyone else on the island."

Cal shook his head. "No police, we bring them over from one of the main islands if we need 'em."

Again Johnathan sculled his drink.

Michaela slowly made her way up the stairs to Roarke's old quarters. She had spent all the time since she had been with Ariel trying to reorganize Johnathan's fantasy. When she had been planning for her visit here she didn't expect that she would have to override any of the work Roarke had already done. She had spent most of the time looking for instructions on what to do. Now, after midnight, she was exhausted.

When she reached the bedroom she turned on the television and caught the end of the rally telecast, which had been put on loop over the night. Jeremy was doing well, he had already established a six minute lead, which wasn't much but was exceptional for a rookie driver on his first race. Many of the other drivers had come to grief, most due to bad tyre choice when that storm had appeared from 'nowhere.' However that was the only interference Michaela made, just to keep them on their toes. Other drivers had fallen prey to the trees that lined the tight track or the steep inclines that riddled the sides of the course. With half of the field now gone and still two days of racing still remaining, this was proving to be an interesting rally. Michaela turned off the television and lay down on the bed wrapping her cloak around her.

A few hours later she was woken by the silence. This wasn't normal silence though, this was the silence created by someone trying to be quiet. She reached out to the bedside light when the person climbed onto her bed and when she felt stifled breath on her face she turned the light on.

Roarke turned away as the light pierced his eyes. Michaela now saw he was on all fours over her. "Mr. Roarke, why are you here?"

"Well, there are certain things that adult men and women do together."

"I am well aware of that. Look deeper Mr. Roarke, why are you here?" Her words were cold.

Roarke looked into the haunting shadow that hid her face. "I, I don't know." He said eventually. "I just knew I had to do this."

Michaela scowled. "That's all I needed to hear."

As Roarke moved in to kiss Michaela, she snapped her fingers and disappeared, leaving Roarke to fall onto the bed where she had just been.

"Gods that is irritating," he yelled.

Out on the high cliff that overlooked the ocean Michaela whispered an incantation. "Don't you even have the decency to show yourselves after what you have just done?" she yelled angrily when nothing happened. "Speak to me! I demand and audience!" Slowly the wisps of cloud that hung in the night sky began to spiral.

"You 'demand' an audience?" the sky rumbled in contemptuous tones.

Michaela lowered her head. "No. Forgive me, I ask for an audience."

The clouds span faster. "Very well," the sky eventually rumbled in reply. "Tomorrow, at four." The clouds slowed their spinning and eventually returned to their normal positions. There would be no more discussion.

After spending the early morning wandering along the beaches of the island, Michaela returned to the hotel, only to find Roarke waiting for her. He was staring intently at his office doors waiting for her to come out. She silently walked up next to him. "Can I help you Mr. Walsh?"

He jumped a mile. "Mi.. Michaela, I just wanted to apologize..."

"I'm sorry, who are you addressing?"

"No, no you can't just ignore me…"

"Oh you were talking to me. Mr. Walsh, I am Mr. Roarke, nothing more. You must remember that."

Roarke nodded. "Yes, I just want to apologize and I understand if you want to swap back."

"Are you really naïve enough to think that I have the power to stop this?"

"So you're not angry?"

"More than you could ever know, but there is more to it than that."

Roarke nodded and moved to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm getting out of your sight. If I were you I wouldn't want to deal with me."

"Yes, but I'm not you and I also have work to do. Mr. Walsh you have the ability to face your demons, you must initiate the journey."

"But I don't know how."

"All these years on the island and you don't know how? Surely you don't think it was coincidence that I arrived during the anniversary. I remind you again that this opportunity can pass you by, I do not recommend being idle."

"Can't you just tell me what to do?"

"The question is do you…"

"Mr. Roarke!!" Harry ran up to them. "Mr. Roarke it's Ms. O'Brien. She's collapsed in the guests' dining room."

Lara stirred. In the distance she heard someone calling her name. A gentle breeze danced across her face. She opened her eyes and was shocked by the sight that greeted her. She found herself lying on the lush grass of a gently rolling meadow, dotted with daisies and wildflowers. In the sky above, soft clouds effortlessly rolled at snails pace.

"Lara?"

She heard the voice again. She gently rolled her head over and saw a figure silhouetted against the sun.

"Who are you?" Lara asked rising unsteadily to her feet.

The figure smiled. "I am Mr. Roarke."

Lara laughed. "No you're not. Look at you, you're wearing a dress and a cape."

A cold wind raced across the field. Michaela shuddered and pulled the cape around her. She could not hide her true self here.

Michaela

"Very well, I am a messenger for Mr. Roarke." Michaela paused to regain her composure. "Why Lara?"

Lara looked at her feet. "I didn't have a care in the world. I didn't worry about consequences."

"Is this really what you want?"

"I don't know. The chance to forget it all has been wonderful."

"Do you want to give up all those hard years of work, just like that?"

"Until now anything less than perfect has been equated with failure. The pressure of this wait is unbearable. And if my marks are down, what then?"

"There are many things to be in life and you have the talent to do any one of these. Something always comes along. Is it worth giving up simply because you may not live up to outrageous expectations?"

Lara looked off into the distance beyond Michaela. "I don't know."

Michaela took Lara's hands. "It is not a decision to be made lightly. You have people fighting for you. If you come back to them, or at least give them a pulse, you can remain here to think about it."

Lara continued to stare into the distance. Michaela squeezed her hands. "Lara please. I may get called back at any moment and returning without your answer is of no benefit."

"What are my options?"

"You can either choose to end it all now and pass away, return to the life you know, or remain here and think about it." The image of Michaela began to fade away. "Lara, you must decide."

"I… I need to think."

Michaela smiled. "Thank you." She squeezed her hand again and disappeared.

The glaze disappeared from Michaela's eyes as she pumped Lara's heart. She lent back and took Lara's pulse, taking in her surrounds as she did so. Roarke and Harry stood on the opposite side of Lara, watching Michaela carefully.

"Harry, when did you return?"

Harry looked confused. "A few minutes ago Sir. I brought back Ms. O'Brien's medication."

Michaela glared at Roarke. "Of course. I'm sorry, I was concentrating on what I was doing."

Harry nodded. "And?"

Michaela furrowed her brow at Harry's question, then realised what she had been doing. She shifted the position of her fingers on Lara's wrist and waited. Then, slowly, a faint beating returned. Michaela sighed with relief and nodded.

She looked up at Harry. "What did you find in her room?" Harry threw her the bottle of pills that he had returned with.

Michaela shook her head sadly as the infirmary staff rushed into the room.

"I've got her breathing again and her pulse if faint but there." Michaela threw the bottle to one of the nurses. "See if you can get this in a liquid form, she's gonna need a lot of it." She watched them wheel Lara out on a stretcher. "Harry?" she called without turning around. "Could you please go and check on Mr. Laussen's progress?" She paused; there was no response. "Now."

Harry scurried past her and disappeared into the corridor. The room remained quite.

"Well, since you've arrived things have become very hectic around here." Roarke's comment shattered the silence.

Michaela turned on him. "How hard is it to follow one simple direction?" Though she spoke in her normal placid voice, there was no doubting the edge to her words.

Roarke looked innocent. "I alerted you as soon as I heard the infirmary staff enter the corridor."

"And not when Harry returned." Roarke vaguely shrugged his shoulders. "Mr. Walsh, you are a guest here…."

"So you keep reminding me," Roarke cut in. "But what of my fantasy?"

"And as a guest you wouldn't have know what I was doing. I wouldn't have expected Mr. Roarke to be dumb enough to do something like that in front of an unknowing guest."

"I… he wouldn't."

"Yet, you have just allowed Harry to walk in on Mr. Roarke doing the exact same thing."

"Oh come now Drama Queen, it's just Harry."

The room suddenly became like a freezer. "I never had the chance to be a drama queen, and Harry is not as thick-witted as you think." Though he still could not see her face, he could feel Michaela glaring at him piercingly. He couldn't help turning away.

Michaela slowly walked up to him and whispered in his ear, "You are not unanswerable Roarke, just remember that."

Roarke pulled away and sat at the table in one of the chair. "So," he said eventually. "What's happening with Ms. O'Brien?"

"She's going to stay there and think about it, weigh up the pros and cons, but I'm certain she will return."

Roarke stood up indignantly. "Why can't they just make up their minds back there instead of coming here and creating trouble for us? Those type of people annoy me."

Michaela stood on the cliffs overlooking the sea. Above the stars winked in the inky blackness, their tails streaking down and disappearing into the depths of her cape. A single candle stood before her. Through the howling gales that leapt from the ocean it continued to flicker, casting strange shadows behind her, shadows of a woman, shadows of a child.

From a distance, beyond hearing, Roarke watched.

As the hour changed to four the clouds once again began to swirl as they had the previous night. Michaela dropped to her knees and bowed before the presence.

"He is here," the sky rumbled.

"I know, but he cannot hear."

"You 'requested' an audience." The words weren't so much heard as felt. The way the ground shuddered, the force with which the wind blew, everything that happened conveyed the message to those who would hear – those who knew how to listen.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Why?"

"Last night…."

"We delivered what you asked for. What is their quaint saying? 'Actions speak louder than words.'"

"I wanted words"

"We simply put the notion into his head, how he expresses himself is beyond our control."

"He is a confused man! After years on this island under your law, following your strict instructions, he is suddenly set free."

"He has restrictions set."

"But these are nothing compared with what he has labored under and they only apply to three people that he sees every day."

"You question our methods?" It was more of a challenge than a question.

"Yes," she said after a brief contemplation. "Yes," she repeated with more confidence. Out on the horizon lightning crashed to the ocean. The blue haze streaked over the waves and disappeared into the depths of her cape. For the first time she looked directly at the swirling mass.

"I know I am not in the position to question, but I do."

"You should be honored that we have allowed you this opportunity."

"I never said I wasn't."

"It is not an obligation that everyone should find their answers."

"I understand that." A feeling of smugness surrounded Michaela. "However, you did honor me with this opportunity and are now obligated to see it through to the end."

"We presented an answer."

"No, you presented a possibility."

The sky rumbled. "You are a guest of this council. We granted you audience."

"And you can stop this anytime you wish." Michaela waited. When the clouds continued swirl she persevered. "What you presented was not an answer to my question but an insight into what may have been, had things… been different. He still is not sure of who I am, despite my bluntness. The answer to my question can only come from him; from his lips and not his actions."

"You presume to tell the council what to do?"

"Yes," she replied placidly. "Or if you prefer I can suggest it."

There was a pause. The winds died down. "You would have made one hell of a teenager."

Michaela smiled. "Thank you."

"He still watches. Yet he takes no steps to begin his journey."

"No. I am unsure if it is fear or ignorance."

Back at the cliffs Michaela looked up angrily at the sky. "Why did you take me from there. I thought the whole point of this was so I could see?"

"You 'wanted words'. You said you wanted to know 'from his lips, not his actions' or similarly, his memories."

Michaela scowled and turned back towards the hotel. Just before she left the clearing on the cliffs, she turned to look at the swirling clouds one last time and laughed. "You know, I'd hate to know what kind of teenager you were."

The scene at the finishing podium was not as jovial as it should have been. Although the Subaru cheer squad were ecstatic, it was obvious that there was an air of discontentment that a rookie could finish first on the hardest rally course in existence. Nevertheless, the crowd cheered when appropriate and applauded Jeremy's efforts.

After the ceremony, during the mayhem of packing up, Jeremy met with Roarke and led him off to the side. "I just wanted to thank you Mr. Roarke, that was a great rush. I feel like I could take on the world!"

Michaela smiled. "Oh you will Mr. Laussen. You see, your fantasy doesn't end here." She turned and gestured towards the now deserted podium. Suddenly a crowd appeared in the bleachers and on the banner above the podium the names of different rallies flashed past. Finland, Corsica, Sweden, Greece; and beneath each name, Jeremy saw the image of himself accepting the winner's trophy. And each time his fan club grew.

Jeremy looked at Roarke in confusion. "So is this what will happen in the future? I never completed these rallies."

"Actually Mr. Laussen, you did. Don't take my word for it, search your memory, it's all there. I particularly liked what you did on corner five of leg 8 in the Rally Monte Carlo."

Jeremy Laussen

Jeremy smiled. "Oh yeah! I don't know how I got the car up on two wheels or how I got it down…" his voice trailed off as he realised what he was doing.

Michaela smiled. "I'm, essentially speeding up time. Stopping at the vital moments of course, where you receive your winner's trophy." The names continued to change. Spain, Argentina, New Zealand, Australia; and without fail he always appeared accepting the trophy. And then came the Rally Network Q… "Great Britain, the final rally of the calendar, and here you are again Mr. Laussen, not only accepting the winner's trophy for the rally, but for the whole competition. You are the 1999 World Rally Champion."

This time Jeremy was not watching from the sidelines, but up on the podium accepting the trophy.

"Was it a challenge?" Michaela whispered in his ear.

"No, it was easy. I might as well been stooging around a car park."

"And how does this victory feel?"

"Hollow. I didn't have to work for it."

"Imagine that." Michaela smirked. The suddenly everything went dark.

Roarke was unsure how long he had remained there, watching himself cradling the lifeless body. Night had become day and now the dying rays of the sun were streaked across the floor.

At some stage Elizabeth's parents had returned and entered through the unlocked door. Her mother had screamed and dropped to her knees beside Elizabeth, stroking her face and calling her name.

When nothing happened she looked up at Andrew who hadn't move. She shook him violently by the shoulders asking, "What have you done? What have you done?" over and over again. When he did not respond, her hands moved to his neck. Andrew closed his eyes and waited for death to come.

Roarke snorted at his own ignorance and Elizabeth's father pulled his wife away and out of the house. The shadows on the floor grew longer; and then the police arrived. Andrew moved like a puppet on a string as he was taken away.

Michaela appeared through the back door and walked over to Roarke. Stepping over Elizabeth's body. "At least show some compassion."

Michaela turned and looked at the body as and officer placed a blanket over her. "Poor dear." Michaela turned back to Roarke and was surprised to see tears in his eyes. "Regretting past actions?"

"Why did you do this?"

Michaela laughed. "You really think this is my doing? This time off must have messed with your head."

"Yes, well you… or they," he spat the word out. "Have had their fun, so I'd like to go back now."

"Oh it doesn't end there, my dear Roarke…" She raised her hand and clicked her fingers. The scene changed form the house to the cold, sterile, bleakness of a prison bathroom. "Now this is a familiar scene, I'd wager."

"I should have known you'd bring me here too," Roarke said dryly with some annoyance at himself.

Michaela produced a box of popcorn, which she shoved in his hands. "Enjoy."

Michaela appeared so suddenly before Ariel that she bumped into her. "Roarke!" Ariel exclaimed in guilty surprise.

Michaela said nothing and raised an eyebrow.

Ariel pouted. "Well he deserved it."

Michaela's expression did not change. "He nearly killed me! I thought I was well within my rights."

"I do not condone your actions. But that is not to say I don't agree with the sentiment."

Ariel smiled. "I knew you're just a softie deep down Roarke." She leant in to kiss him, but Michaela pushed her away and disappeared.

Ariel scowled and stalked off to her room.

Harry and Cal waited anxiously outside Ariel's room. They didn't know how much time they had before Roarke realised they were gone. When Ariel arrived they looked at her dismissively. "The buildings are back that way Miss. These are private rooms."

Ariel looked at them quizzically before she realised that she hadn't changed back to her normal form after her altercation with Roarke. When she did change, Cal looked away guiltily and Harry stuttered as tried to explain. "Don't apologise. In a way it's a compliment." Her eyes narrowed. "Now why are you here?"

Harry shuffled his feet. "Well, you know how earlier in the week you asked me to check the guest records…"

"It's taken you this long to flip through the books?"

Harry shuffled his feet again. "Well, I didn't like to do it while Roarke was around, and he had a habit of turning up just as I was about to check."

"I can imagine." Ariel squinted thoughtfully.

"Yes, well, anyway, there's no record of a Michael, Mike or Michaela Walsh previously visiting the island."

"Michaela?"

Harry thought for a second. "You know, I don't know why I looked that up…."

"How far back did you look?"

Harry shuffled his feet again. "Fifty years," he said sheepishly.

He was surprised when Ariel didn't scoff. "So that confirms it."

"Confirms what?" Harry looked worried.

"Michael Walsh is not a mortal," Ariel narrowed her eyes. "And Roarke knows."

"But Roarke's treating him like a normal guest; dismissing him and playing mind games. Why would he do that if…"

"He forgot Miranda."

Harry and Cal scoffed. "What?!!"

"Just before when he was working with Mr. Ives, he had to stop and remember Miranda."

"Maybe he was just pausing for effect," Harry suggested.

"Mr. Ives asked 'Do you have a child?' and Roarke had to stop and think. There was no need for dramatic effect. And before when I talked to him alone he… was different."

Cal shot a look at Harry who pretended he hadn't seen it.

"So what do we do?" Harry asked bewildered.

"I'll talk to him. Later. Right now I want to rest and your two better get back before he finds out."

It took Michaela some time to locate Lara, but she eventually found her skimming stones down by a brook. Michaela stood by her side and watched for a bit.

"I used to love doing this as a kid," Lara mused. "There was a little stream that ran through some woods near our house. My Dad used to take me down there when I was little and we'd skim stones for hours on end." She tossed a stone in the air thoughtfully. "Well, maybe not hours, but time just seems so much longer when you're a kid."

Michaela smiled in agreement, although she had never got to the stage when there'd no longer seemed to be enough time. Michaela watched as Lara threw many more tones into the river, making them bounce several times off the surface of the water.

"You've come about my decision haven't you?" Lara asked without turning around.

"Yes," Michaela replied softly.

Lara threw a few more stones. "You know, when I was young, I always wanted to see the world. I can remember sitting there watching Sesame Street and the part I most looked forward to was the part where they went to different places around the world. Well, when I say all around the world, I now know that it was generally the North and Central Americas, but they were still wild and exotic locations. You know, compared with the dull little place you lived in."

Michaela once again offered an unknowing nod of agreement.

Lara threw some more stones into the brook. "Actually, the more that I think about it, Bert and Ernie were my favourite, especially in that one where Ernie wants to play a rhyming game and Bert says hippopotamus but Ernie still manages to come back with a word…" She dropped off as she realised what she was doing and threw a few more stones into the river sheepishly. "Well, anyway I always wanted to travel."

"Then do that."

"I was going to. I was going to go to Oxford, Cambridge or Harvard and get all these great degrees and become this great CEO and travel around the world. Holiday in Tuscany, business lunch in Paris. But now…" She threw some stones irritably. One went straight to the bottom. "To go up in a plane with a pressurized cabin would be suicide."

"The Gods can be very dangerous when bored – particularly the Fates. They like to watch people redirect their whole lives; regardless of who else this effects." Michaela's words were laced with repugnance.

"The world is but a stage, and all men upon it but actors." Lara quoted vaguely. "What they didn't tell you is it's a puppet show and that they've put spiteful idiots in charge of the strings." She tried to skim more stones. They all sank straight to the bottom.

Michaela smiled bemusedly. "You're lucky They can't hear you here."

Lara O'Brien

Lara snorted in contempt and then paused to think. "They?!?"

Michaela turned and walked away over a crest. "What you fail to realise is that They haven't totally cut off all your avenues." she called over her shoulder.

"What are you talking about?" Lara asked as she followed her over the hill.

"You see," Michaela said as Lara neared the top of the hill. "Airplanes aren't the only form of transport that need hostesses."

Lara's jaw dropped. She was now standing on the edge of a cliff looking over an ocean, watching as several liners sailed past. "My God!" she exclaimed in disbelief. "The Luisitainia! The Queen Elizabeth! The Normandie!!!" She called out the names of the superliners as they, among others, smoothly traversed the waves. "But, these are at the bottom of the ocean – or at least ended up with more water in them than there should have been."

"In the world you know at least." Michaela turned to face Lara. "I'm glad to say that the cruise industry is once again booming. Companies are racing to build the biggest ships ever conceived. There are even plans for the floating city. Over one kilometer long and a roof that doubles as a runway. Imagine the number of guests a ship like that could carry – and the number of people required to cater for them. Do you get seasick?"

Lara's mouth gaped. "That would be so fun. Sailing the oceans of the world. Not to mention romantic too. Imagine me on the high seas…"

"Perhaps the Gods aren't quite as stupid as you imagined."

"Or as spiteful."

"Now, let's not go too far." Michaela gently rested a finger on Lara's cheek and moved her head to face her.

Lara was surprised by how cold the touch was.

"You must understand that I am not encouraging you to take this course. I am merely pointing out all the options available to you. You may not need to consider this as you may receive the marks you require. Or you may give up your dreams of becoming the head of a major corporation to join the crew of a superliner. The point is, should you wish to do any of this, you need to return and leave this place."

Lara looked at her surroundings.

Michaela waited patiently. "What is your answer?"

Lara closed her eyes. "Yes." When she blinked them open again she found lying in a bed, with Mr. Roarke sitting by her side.

Michaela squeezed her hand. "Welcome back."

When Michaela had left Lara's side to find the doctor it was no surprise Harry was not in the hall outside. She quietly made her way over to Ariel's quarters and hid out of sight, but within earshot.

"He did what?!" Ariel asked in disbelief

"He thanked me for my work."

Ariel rubbed her eyes wearily. "Tell me how he said it."

"Well, he said 'I want to thank you Harry. Thank you for the work you do here.' Then he said how he didn't say it as much as he should and that if he left 'without seeing me again he'd hate to think that I didn't know that.'"

"Anything else?"

"He also said how I always did what I asked of him and extended the same courtesy to you."

Ariel thumped her chair. "He knows. You didn't tell him did you?"

"Of course not."

She stood up and awkwardly threw a shawl over her shoulders. "I can't believe he scried on us!!!" She stormed out of her door and stopped dead on the porch.

Michaela stood in the middle of the path below.

Ariel glared at him. "Roarke what do you think you are doing? Scrying on us and now physically snooping."

"I am merely here to call Harry back to his duties at the bedside of Ms. O'Brien. You may be interested to know she has returned."

Harry slipped out past Ariel and slunk away. "I was merely seeing how she was, sir."

"I see." Michaela said in a tone of voice that blatantly showed she did not believe him. "Perhaps my words were a little premature…"

"Which words in particular?" Ariel snapped. "Your praise or your mentioning should you never see him again. What do you think you're doing?"

"And just what, might I ask do you think you're doing?" Michaela snapped back immediately. "Undermining my authority. Conspiring behind my back. Leading the staff astray."

They stood glaring at each other. Eventually Ariel dropped her head and walked over to Roarke. She looked up and him and ran her fingers through his silver hair, down the side of his face and rested her hand on his chest.

Michaela remained impassive.

"What's going on Roarke. What's happened? You're complimenting Harry. You're approaching the fantasies in a totally different manner. You were so extravagant on Jeremy Laussen's one. You're… avoiding me…"

Michaela placed her hand over Ariel's and gently, but firmly placed it back by her side. "Ariel," she paused. "My dear," her words were terse and strained. "You cannot begin to understand the powers at work here." She turned and walked off.

"I cannot begin to understand?" Ariel started after Roarke. "I cannot begin to understand?"

Michaela stopped and turned around. "No," she said simply. "You cannot. Now, I must go and see to Mr. Walsh's fantasy." She turned to walk off again.

Ariel grabbed Roarke's shoulder and spun him around. She slapped him across the face. "Don't you walk away from me. And what about this Michael Walsh? When are you going to explain about him?"

When she looked up at Roarke she instantly knew she'd gone too far. Fire glowed in the depths of his eyes as he grabbed her forcibly by the arm. Ariel waited eyes wide with fear.

Michaela dragged Ariel back to her quarters and threw her down on her bed. Silently she turned and slammed the door behind her.

Back on the cliff top Michaela shook her head slowly. "You foolish man," she whispered.

Ariel flopped down on her bed exhausted and in pain. She had tried all that she could think of to get out of her quarters, but it seemed Roarke had thought of them too. When she had eventually given up on trying to open the door she had tried to take it off its hinges, only to find that the screws could not be moved. She had tried opening the windows, but every single one, no matter how small, was shut tight. When she had tried to break a window by charging at it with a chair the pane had remained intact, and she only served to cause more damage to herself.

She had tried shape shifting, but was in too much pain to stay in any form other than human. Out of sheer desperation she had tried to knock the door down, but the pain had been too much. And so she sat with her head buried in her hands.

"I wish to speak to the Powers," she sighed as she waited to be taken to their forum.

The request danced over the ocean breezes to where Michaela waited on the cliff. She smiled. "Please, allow me." She snapped her fingers and disappeared.

Michaela appeared before Ariel as herself. As Ariel looked up she could feel all the light in the room being drawn to Michaela.

"Who are you?" she asked. "What's going on? Why are you here? I asked to speak to the Powers."

"My, what an inquisitive mind," Michaela mused. "Yes, you did ask to see the Powers, but they sadly do not wish to see you…"

"What?!!"

"I am their messenger," Michaela continued seamlessly. "And they send this message: You are in way over your head Ariel. Stand down and let what must be done be done." Michaela counted off her fingers. "Yes, I believe that answers all of your question." She turned to leave.

"Wait!" Ariel jumped up and looked straight at Michaela. "What does this have to do with Roarke?"

Michaela laughed and brushed back some of Ariel's fringe before running her finger down the side of her face and under her chin. "My dear Ariel, you may think you know Roarke, but you don't."

Michaela turned and left through the door. Ariel watched in disbelief and tried the door for herself.

Once again it did not move.

Ariel lent against the door and sighed, rubbing the side of her face absently. It stung where 'the messenger' had run her finger, she had been so cold… Just as cold as Roarke had felt… As if they were dead…

Slowly it dawned on Ariel. She raced over to a window and looked out. 'The messenger' had gone.

Harry scurried along the path back to Ariel's quarters, although he couldn't for the life of him think why. When he reached the clearing it was eerily silent. Even the birds didn't warble as they bathed in the glow of the rising sun. He called out cautiously. "Ariel?"

"Thank Gods," came the muffled reply. "Harry the doors been locked, you've got to get me out of here."

Harry stepped up onto the verandah and tried the door. "Ariel, doors lock from the inside, there wouldn't be much point otherwise."

"Not this one, look." Harry watched the handle flick up and down as Ariel tried to open the door from inside.

"Roarke's locked it somehow."

"Roarke?" Harry scoffed.

"Yes. There's something really wrong with this Michael person and I think Roarke's in trouble. Harry, you've got to get me out of here."

Harry tried a few times to break the door down. "Look, it's no use, I can't do it. I'll go and get Cal to help."

"Hurry!" Ariel called as Harry ran off between the trees.

Michaela laughed. "Go on Roarke, strike out at me. I know the urge runs deep in your veins." Roarke changed his grip of the flute so that he now held offensively. "What better time than your anniversary to rekindle old habits."

As Roarke drew back his arm it took every ounce of courage Michaela had not to duck. His glass smashed against a rock off to their side.

"I didn't kill Elizabeth!!" he yelled.

Michaela regained her composure quickly. "Ah, so you do know what this is the anniversary of?"

"Of course I bloody do," Roarke snapped back. "How could I forget the very events that lead to my entrapment of this Gods forsaken island?"

"Now you know that's not true. By its very definition, there is no way that this island could be 'Gods forsaken' and populated at the same time."

"At least it's clear that we're only here for their amusement." Roarke sneered.

"Ah, yes, well, now you're beginning to get somewhere…"

"They tricked me. They tricked me into coming here. I did nothing wrong and they tricked me."

"Nothing?!" Michaela snorted. "You did nothing wrong? I would hate to see you being your definition of active in a murder! You killed a child. You were found guilty by twelve good men and true."

"Twelve 'good' men and false," Roarke sneered.

"You think they were wrong? The girl was placed in your care!! For one night! And when the parents return the next day they find her dead. You were still hunched over the body for crying out loud! How could you not be responsible for her death?"

"I didn't do it!! I only was there when it happen. There was nothing I could do."

"I don't believe you. After all these years you don't even have the courage to stand up and accept what you have done. You're still trying to pass the blame off onto someone else. You kiledl a child, a child who looked up to you, who held you in adoration. How can you live with yourself?"

"How could she have lived with herself? After what he did? She was only a child!! She deserved more than that."

"She deserved more than death, certainly."

Harry returned with Cal to Ariel's quarters. They told Ariel to stand back and began ramming into the door.

Roarke leant forward and buried his head in his hands. Eventually he stood up and pulled his hands down to reveal his eyes. "You're right," he said softly. "I did kill her…"

"So finally he admits…"

"I killed her by not doing anything."

"What?!! Killed her by not doing anything?! You call that not doing anything?!"

Roarke continued to stare right out to sea. "I should have stopped him…"

"Him? Who? What are you talking about?"

"My father. She was in my care, I should have stopped him."

"Father?" Michaela's voice wavered. Fractured memories re-emerged behind her eyes, jostling each other for prominence as they tried to arrange themselves. Brief images of a tall man with gray hair teased her. She shook her head. "No, there wasn't anyone else there. It was only you." The smell of whiskey engulfed her. "Your father had an alibi. You were the only one there. There was no-one else!" With each sentence Michaela sounded less and less sure. It was as though she was no longer telling him what happened, but pleading for him to tell her she was right.

"I don't believe this." Roarke looked up at the sky. "You can't even send someone who knows what really happened!" He sat down on a rock and looked down at his feet.

Michaela looked down at Roarke and was surprised to find herself almost pitying him. If truth was what she had come looking for, she felt she owed him the same courtesy. Slowly she reached up and removed her hood. She shivered as some of Roarke's powers escaped her. Michaela shook her head gently and let the deep auburn waves of hair fall to her side. Breathing deeply, she waited for her old friend to look up.

The clouds that had dogged the island since Michaela's arrival scattered on the four winds as her powers dissipated. Most of what she had done outside the fantasies slowly faded out of existence as the power that had kept them going died.

Harry and Cal charged at the door again. It gave way under their weight as if there was nothing keeping shut, leaving the two to fall on the floor just inside.

"What was with that?" Cal asked as he rolled over and stood up.

"That's not important," Ariel snapped as she stepped over them and out the door. "We've got to find Roarke before Walsh does."

Harry and Cal glanced at each other and hurried after Ariel back towards the hotel.

Roarke rested his head in his hands. His mind was a jumble as Elizabeth's death, his 'death' and the argument with Michaela replayed themselves over and over in his head. Finally he managed to focus on one thing. It leapt out at him, setting off mental warning bells and flashing lights. When he had smashed his glass, it wasn't as though Michaela had flinched, but fear had filled the air around her. He had seen that she had a protective shield around her when he had thrown the champagne, but this was of no comfort to her. She was petrified. "Before… When I threw the champagne flute, you were af…"

The sentence dropped as he looked up at her. With her hood removed the silhouette was gone from her face. He sat staring at her for a while, mentally ageing the image of a child emblazoned on his mind. "Michaela," he whispered eventually. "This is beyond a joke."

"I know Roarke, that's why it isn't one."

Roarke looked back at her from underneath a furrowed brow, as if he didn't want to make the connection. "E…Elizabeth?"

Michaela smiled at him. "Hello Andrew." They remained where they were, simply looking at each other.

Slowly Roarke stood up, gently shifting his foot back and forth, unsure whether to approach her or run. Then, without a signal being given, they ran into each other's arms. Tears formed in Roarke's eyes. "Oh Elizabeth," he sighed as he rested his hand on the back of her head, gently rocking her back and forth.

Michaela said nothing as tears gently trickled down her cheeks.

Ariel, Harry and Cal climbed the steps of the hotel and stood menacingly in the doorway. "Right." Ariel turned to face the others. "Harry, you take the North Wing, Cal you do the South and I'll do the central areas. If you find either of them bring them to me." She turned again and stormed off towards Roarke's office.

Back in the doorway Cal leaned over to Harry. "Does she want them dead or alive?"

"Oh grow up, Cal." Harry groaned and scurried off to the North Wing.

Cal shrugged and headed to the South.

As Roarke stared off into the distance and nagging thought occurred to him. He furrowed his brow, gently pushed Michaela away to arms length and looked at her critically. Michaela looked up at him through child's eyes, showing adoration, confusion, worry and even hurt.

"E… Mi…" Roarke tried to start but neither name sounded right. "If you are Elizabeth, then why don't you know how you died?"

Michaela nodded, it was a question she had been expecting. "You yourself doubted that I could have enjoyed life had I not been killed, and the same thing applies in the afterlife. Those who die in a horrific manner of which they are undeserving have all memory of it wiped."

"So, you don't know what happened?" Roarke asked slowly.

Michaela shook her head. "No, and that's why I am here. What I do know is that one night, years and years ago, I was in your care… and then I was dead. Shortly after I learnt that you had been sent to this island. I put what I knew together and came up with what seemed to be a logical conclusion." She looked up into Roarke's eyes. "Andrew, my coming to this island, the events you have experienced through this week, was so I could find out why you had killed me."

Roarke nodded slowly. "And when I came into your room the other night..?"

"That was how the Powers' thought I should find out. They 'put the notion into your head' and let you act upon it as you saw fit."

"Giving me sufficiently vague information that would lead me to act in a way that would confirm what you believed," Roarke said bitterly, understanding it now. He looked into her eyes. "I didn't kill you, Mi...Elizabeth. Surely you saw that when I had to relive it..." He looked away from her.

She wanted to believe him. "After you came to visit me that night I went out and… well, yelled at the Powers…"

Roarke's eyebrows shot up. "And you're still here?"

"They actually took it quite well. Anyway, my plan was that I would relive the events with you, however my exact words to the Powers were 'from his lips, not his actions' and the Powers decided that also ruled out memories." Michaela gently placed her hand on Roarke's shoulder and ran it down his arm until she took his hand.

Roarke looked down at her hand, no longer the small delicate thing he remembered.

"Roarke, I know it hurts, but please tell me what happened. I've already spent all these years thinking you killed me, I don't want to spend eternity hating you if I have no reason."

He didn't look up.

"Please, Roarke. You had left to go outside…"

Ariel stormed back into the hall just as Harry and Cal emerged from the wings. "Well?" she snapped. The two shook their heads silently.

Ariel scowled as she thought. She grabbed the arm of one of the staff who was cleaning up before the new guests arrived and pulled him over to her. "Where is Roarke? When did you see him last? Was that Michael Walsh with him? When did you last see him? Tell me! Tell me!!" She began to shake the frightened person violently.

Harry and Cal fought to make Ariel let go. Harry gripped her by the upper arms. "Ariel this is not the way to go about it. This has nothing to do with the staff. If we don't know where Roarke is it's even less likely that they do."

Ariel lowered her head. "You're right."

Harry tentatively released his grip. "So now where do we go? They could be anywhere on the Island."

Ariel looked out over the sea. "East. They always go east."

Roarke sighed. "My father had returned from the pub after he'd run out of money. You heard him in the kitchen and raced out thinking it was me. He was drunk. He was very drunk. He talked to you for a bit, asking you questions. A couple of times you spoke out of turn… well, not really out of turn, they were just sort of additional comments… Eventually he told you to go back to bed, but he asked you to kiss him goodnight first. You went up to him, but pulled back at the last minute saying that he smelt funny. He said that he'd have to punish you for being constantly naughty… He… he…" Roarke closed his eyes as a single tear slid down the side of his nose.

Michaela squeezed his hand gently. "Roarke, I want to know. No matter how bad."

Roarke turned away. "He raped you," he whispered. He could not look into Michaela's face. "And that was when I came in," he continued. "When I saw what was happening I froze in the hallway. I didn't want him to see me… but you saw me. You called out to me and he hit you. He hit you a few more times when you cried out in pain. When he'd finished you just lay in your pool of tears. He got up and tried to drink some whiskey from a bottle he had brought home, but it was empty. He threw it down in disgust and it hit you. You screamed and rolled over. He picked up the bottle and hit you over the head with it over and over until you had stopped screaming in pain… Until you had stopped screaming." Roarke tried in vain to blink away tears.

As the three made their way across the hotel lawn they heard a familiar low rumble. Ariel looked up and saw the silhouette of the plane slowly circling downwards.

"Now what do we do?" asked Harry. "We do have responsibilities to keep up."

Ariel growled under her breath. "Alright, Cal you go and ring your little bell and organize the guests." Cal began to complain but Harry shot him a warning glance. "Harry, you continue on with me. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Cal and Harry said in unison.

"Then why are we still here?" As Ariel stormed off into the trees she missed Cal roll his eyes at Harry, who simply shrugged in reply.

"And what did you do all this time?" Michaela asked in a steady voice, hiding the flood of emotion that had just hit her.

"I just stood in the corner doing nothing. I was petrified by my father… by his violence. Maybe, once I saw him beating you with the bottle, I thought it was the right thing to let happen… More likely I could only envisage the same thing happening to me if he knew what I had seen…"

His voice dropped off as he irritably wiped away a tear. "Anyway, I think he figured out I knew in the end. He would come to the trial and just glare at me, daring me to tell the truth. But he never came to see me once I was locked up… but then he didn't really have the chance."

"You did right Andrew, in letting me die. I see that now, but why didn't you turn him in?"

"Well it's… it was a sin wasn't it? 'Honour thy Mother and thy Father?' A lot of good those beliefs did me." He smiled wryly. "I guess there's some irony in the fact that Monotheism left me on a Polytheist island."

"Monotheism is a gift from the Gods." Michaela smiled. "But just how did you get here?"

"Inside, I was the worst of them all, I had raped and killed a child. And not just any child but one who had trusted me, and I was wanted dead. It was organized so that the officer would leave the showers just at the crucial time. And then the inmates let loose. I was beaten and then they placed a strip of towel around my neck. As they strangled me I prayed. I'd done nothing wrong, why was 'God' subjecting me to this? Finally I heard a voice. It asked if I wanted it to take me away from here. I was so desperate, what was I expected to think? God had answered my prayers. It asked again 'Anywhere but here?' and of course I said yes. Many lifetimes later I am still serving time for a crime I didn't commit." He shook his head. "They tricked me."

"No Andrew, you just assumed. You could always have said no."

"And would I have survived."

"Just, but nothing would have ever been the same, including you." She placed her hand on the side of his head and looked deeply into his eyes. "You took the easy way out of a tough situation Andrew, and this was the price. You had no way of knowing, perhaps you should have expected, but you have not been deserted on this island. I can think of one person here who is truly a gift from the Gods, and now I can see you are deserving of her. In fact this island contains everything needed to keep you sane." She paused and added, "Cal is for superiority."

Roarke smiled. "Ah, I had wondered."

"Perhaps now you will have peace of mind, something few people ever achieve." She lent in and gently kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Andrew."

Roarke looked down on the grown figure of the girl he once knew. He had often wondered what would have become them were it not for the events of that night. Marriages over age differences such as theirs was not all that uncommon in their time. "I never got to kiss you goodnight," he whispered and gently put his lips to her forehead.

"No," she sighed. "You didn't."

Roarke gently placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head until their eyes met. Then he kissed her once more, on her virgin lips.

"Who is she?" Ariel screeched pointing across the beach.

Harry followed the line of her finger and saw Roarke embracing, possibly even kissing, a woman. He stood dumbfounded as Ariel stormed off towards them. As the wheels slowly began to turn in Harry's head he quickly lashed out and grabbed Ariel's arm.

As Ariel was spun around she screamed and grabbed at her ribs. "Why did you do that?!!" she yelled.

"Well.. err…" Harry stammered under the force of Ariel's glare. "Look Ariel, storming off to confront them is not going to solve anything. Especially when all we know about this person is that they have a great deal of power. This calls for soft-treading, diplomacy. We don't want to have this thing charging like an animal in a corner. It'd be best if you waited here while I went off to talk to them. Especially if Roarke thinks you're still locked in your quarters."

Ariel scowled. He was, of course, right. "Don't dawdle."

Michaela felt her joints begin to ache, as though they had been used beyond their years, until she finally lost control over them.

Roarke caught her as she fell away from him. "E…El…Elizabeth?" he stammered nervously as her body hung limply.

"Yes Andrew?" she answered distantly. Roarke gently lay her down on the sand. The cape fell aside as he did so, revealing the dress underneath, now only a dull gray.

Roarke knelt over her and placed his hand on the side of her head. "Elizabeth, look at me." He said as he gently stroked her cheek with her thumb. "Please?"

"Andrew," she sighed. "I can't. My time is running out."

Roarke forced his lips into a smile, more for his benefit than Michaela's. "I never expected to see you die again. At least these circumstances are more agreeable." A tear ran down his face and splashed onto her cheek.

"Please Andrew, don't be s…" Her words dropped off for the last time.

"Oh Elizabeth I'm sorry. I should have done more. I should have stopped him. I shouldn't have left your side in the first place. Please forgive me. Please forgive me. When we meet again… if we meet again forgive the hurt I caused. Please look on me in the same light as you did before that night, and consider what may have been. I know I will, and I will always l…"

Michaela listened until the soothing sound of Roarke's voice, the crashing of the waves and the wind through the trees gently faded away. She clung to that last sense of Roarke stroking his thumb gently across her cheek until, once again, she had died.

Harry approached cautiously over the beach. He made sure that he had been visible for some distance and that as he approached he made plenty of 'natural' noise. He looked at Roarke hunched over with his head a few inches above the ground and raised and eyebrow. "Uh, Sir?"

Roarke sat up. "Yes Harry, what is it?"

Harry hesitated, just why had he come? "Um, Ariel wanted me to…" he paused. "Oh yes, Ariel wanted you to know that the plane had arrived and Cal was organizing the guests for departure."