"Come on, Duncan," Sarah whined, "it's hot. I don't want to." She planted her hands firmly upon her hips, stared down at the short sword which lay in the summer grass at her feet.

"Pick it up." Was all he said.

"Grrrr." Sarah bent down, sweat trickled off her forehead down her nose as she did so and retrieved the short sword which she had been holding a moment or two before. Sarah exhaled a large and disgruntled breath as she planted her firmly and stood at the ready just as Duncan had been showing her for the last two months. Sword fighting was turning out to be much harder and more intricate than she had ever imagined it would be but she had to admit that she was getting the hang of it. Gods forgive her, to an extent she was even having fun. After last night and the adrenaline rush Jareth had brought with him, it felt good to be out here in the sunlight holding the weapon in her hand. Good to have power in more areas of her life than only one.

Only a short time ago, Sarah had been uneasy at the prospect of standing out here with him today under the hot sun with swords in their hands. Duncan had said nothing to her last night after Jareth left, not one single word. Sarah had climbed into their bed alone last night and awoken the same way this morning. They had shared their morning coffee in the kitchen with little conversation other than "How did you sleep?" Coming from him. Sarah was not sure if his question had been genuine or if he had been taunting her with it. When he had told her that it was time for their daily lesson she had been afraid. It was only for a moment, it came and went quickly, but still it had been there. Now, here she was, sweltering in the summer sun. Her flowing summer dress clinging to her body with sweat, her heart beating sharply in her chest as she waited for Duncan to charge at her.

Without her knowledge or permission, the talisman between her breasts began to emit a low glow.

Sarah watched the long taut muscles in his legs as he ran toward her with sword in hand. Sarah knew she was supposed to stand there and wait . . . wait . . . wait . . . until he was close enough to strike without missing. As he charged at her, instead of striking out she dropped the sword from her hands. A sharp squeal came from her throat as she shut her eyes tight.

"Damn it! Sarah!" Duncan groused at her. "Why do you always do that?" Swiftly he bent and grasp her sword from the ground.

"It scares me."

"Duh! It's supposed to." He scolded. "You can't let that fear take over. You'll lose your damn head. Now try it again." Duncan thrust the sword into her small hands and began his walk back across the lawn. "Stand ready." He demanded as he took his place.

For Duncan, teaching her how to sword fight had been one of the most interesting experiences of his rather long life. When she wasn't closing her eyes at the last second or dropping the sword, Sarah was showing remarkable potential. It had taken several tries at using different swords but in the end they arrived at the conclusion that the short sword would be best for her. Because it wasn't long, when she struck with it it hit nearer the top of his own blade than the middle as another blade of his length would, this caused the blade to go off balance in his hand time and again. Sarah had become very adept at taking full advantage of that one second window to come in low and give out one or two strong but quick kicks before she brought her own blade back to center and struck out with it. His only hope was in a real battle she would show the strength and courage to her opponent that she showed him and that he was not simply becoming familiar to her already, that she had already learned how to read him and his body language. If that were all it was, Sarah would be lost in a real battle.

Now as they stood outside in the warm summer sun, Duncan looked down the back lawn at where she stood and made himself ready to charge at her.

Sarah mustered her courage and her strength, planted her feet firmly on the ground, fixed her eyes on his and prayed that she did not drop it again.

He was charging now, running . . .

Wait..wait..wait . . .

stand fast..wait..wait . . .

...NOW!....

Sarah closed her eyes tightly as she swung out with the blade with both hands. She heard the distinct sound of metal clashing against metal. Quickly, she opened them to see Duncan's blade flashing brilliantly in the sunlight, deflecting away from her head. Immediately Sarah spun around to face him, her eyes locked to his, her breathing heavy inside her chest as she sucked in the humid July air. Duncan ran at her again, this time he was much closer there was no time to wait for the right moment, she kept her eyes firmly fixed upon his and again deflected his blade with her own.

"Good! Good!" Duncan called with strong encouragement. "Come on, don't quit on me now." He thrust his sword toward her torso, watched in amazement as she easily deflected it away with her own. She backed away from him but did not take her eyes from his, just as he had taught her to do. With the sword held at his side with both hands, as though he were about to lash it straight at her head, Duncan came at her again. At the last second he dropped down and aimed it at her legs. Sarah jumped over the blade as brought the hilt of her own down upon the crick of his neck. He felt the rush of pain there as the thrust knocked him fully to his knees. She stepped on the blade of his Katana and then kicked it out of his hand away from his reach. Brought her own down on top of his neck and stood there defiantly. Duncan could feel the burning heat of her eyes as she stared down at his back with the cold blade pressed against his vulnerable neck.

"I win." Sarah whispered in a dark voice that was not quite her own as she stood over him, her small but proud breasts heaving up and down, her heart beating rapidly beneath them. Slowly she took her foot from his blade and stepped back, allowing Duncan to rise with ease.

"Yes, you won. Congratulations." Duncan brushed the loose dirt and grass from his blue jeans and cotton T-shirt. "You fight well. You have great concentration." Duncan had not expected any of those moves from her, not a single one. Surprised did not begin to cover his state of mind at the moment. Sarah was getting better, that much was true, but yesterday she had a long way to go before she reached anything like the level of skill and fluidity. Much had changed between yesterday's morning and this one.

"Of course I fight well. Ares is my father." She reminded him as she let out laughter which sent a chill down Duncan's spine. Slowly her eyes softened at him and she smiled which was warm and familiar to him. "I am doing better, aren't I?" Sarah asked in her own true voice.

"Yes, you're doing much better. I see you're not so afraid anymore, except for . . . "

"....the initial charge." She finished for him. "Give me a chance, huh?"

"Always. Others will not. If you do that when it's for real, you're dead and you know it." He gazed deep in her eyes.

"It won't happen." A hesitant hand reached out to stroke his cheek, it was the first time she had touched him since before saying good bye to Jareth almost fourteen hours ago. Duncan did not flinch away from her touch but he did not appear to welcome it and she removed it quickly. "It's you I worry about."

"Why? I can take care of myself." Duncan picked up his sword.

"Because I love you. If anything ever happened to you . . . " her voice trailed off and she shifted her gaze from his eyes to somewhere in space. The sense of danger began to return to her. There was much of that here between the two of them, never mind all the others who waited beyond the wrought iron gates of the old mansion. The reason she had fought Duncan so well just now was that she had been afraid of him, she had felt the actual fear and then the received her first tastes of the actual heat of the battle. Her body tingled with it.

Onya thrived on it. She wanted so much more of that. She fed upon it and grew stronger by every glorious ounce that she could take in. It filled her and then radiated from the inside out, making her glow in a glorious ring of fire. Desperately she wanted the freedom which was due her. Freedom Sarah had kept from her.Then Jareth and come and his visit had awakened her to a point from which there was no more sleep. There was only awakenfulness and the desire to break free of the cage. When Duncan had charged, Onya broke the bonds Sarah had built for her and returned his kindness with long held glory and skill.

"It won't." Duncan smiled for her. "Ready to try again?"

"Gimmie a break, we've been at this for two hours now. It's hot. Let's go swimming instead, please?" Sarah batted her eyelashes at him while she gave him a winning smile. Yes, a swim would be good or a hike in the woods. Anything to be rid of the weapon.

"Try again. You come at me this time." Duncan turned his back as he walked off to the other side of their practice area.

Onya laughed in the back ground of Sarah's mind as she heard his invitation to return to the game. The Champion wanted to play another round and she was more than inclined to indulge him. The glowing talisman now began to burn against Sarah's skin. The low droning hum caught in her ears was strangely comforting and nauseating at the same time grew louder inside her head.

Move out of the way Sarah, step aside Little One, big sisters coming to pick up the challenge. Sarah did not try to hold her back. It would be futile at best and maddening at worst. Day by day, in leaps and bounds, Onya grew stronger inside of her, Sarah was tired of fighting her. Onya was not going to hurt him, but she was going to give him a hell of a run for his money. All right, Champion. Onya said inside her head.

Outwardly plain and simple Sarah only stood there with the sword held loosely in her hand and waited until he was a good twenty paces away from her. As she watched him walk her lungs inhaled large greedy amounts of the hot July air, she began to feel the strength coursing throughout her small but powerful frame, her legs were primed with it, her heart raced with it. The energy exploded over her shoulder rushed down ward into her arms. With his back at her, Sarah charged him.

With barely enough time to react, Duncan glanced back over his shoulder to see Sarah running at him with the blade held away from her body. Shock and dismay plain on his face, he spun around and ducked low as she swung the blade at where his head had been only two seconds ago. Her eyes were fierce as he stared into them. Sarah's focus was unwavering, her eyes never blinked or moved from his in the slightest. Before he could rise, one small but very firm Nike planted itself in his chest knocking him backward onto the ground. Sarah moved in to step on the blade which his hand still held. Duncan brought a swift leg out knocking her feet from beneath her, Sarah crashed to her knees with the sword in her hand. Duncan tossed his sword from his right hand to his left and then rolled over to rise from the ground. Sarah stared at him with eyes which were black as coals and shinning like the midnight sun as she rocked back on her heels and jumped to her feet.

Duncan went into the motion of striking straight out, as she saw the muscles in his arms tighten and begin to swing forward she jumped high into the air, brought the sword swiftly down to her side. The blade of her sword bit deep into his calf muscle, as she rotated in the air away from his blade.

"Ahh." He howled as he dropped to his knees, his hand instinctively going to the wounded area. Duncan looked up to see that Sarah was not listening to him, she was circling and coming in for another pass, the sword held high over her head. To defend himself he tried to rise from his knees, the cut was too deep and it would take a few minutes for his quickening to heal it. He limped to his feet and turned to face her, all of his weight held on his right leg behind him. Duncan brought his blade up just in time to deflect hers away from his torso, when he turned to face her again his precarious leg gave out and he fell again to the earth beneath his feet. Duncan's heart raced like a run away horse as he realized she was coming for a third pass, the cold stare in her eyes almost blinded him. "Sarah!" He yelled as he rolled away from her and heard the blade slice through the air as she brought it down. "Sarah!" Duncan felt the buzzing tingling arcs of the quickening in his calf muscles begin to zip around and do their work. Finally, he thought with great relief.

The woman who called herself his wife, turned and stared him down for a final time, her breasts heaving as the shallowest of breaths drew and exhaled, drew and exhaled, making her head light, connecting her ever more to the power she held in check within herself. Allowing it to grow and feed. Direct itself at the man who had the arrogance to rise and call himself her Champion. Who did he think he was? And why should she allow him to live? He kept her down. He kept Sarah down. Now was a fine chance to be rid of him.

No! Sarah shrieked inside her own mind. That was all she could do at this moment. Scream and watch. Don't do this!

Well, maybe the little bitch was right. Now wasn't the time.

From his place on the ground, Duncan watched as she snorted at him and lowered her blade. "All right?" She asked from her place well across from him.

"Fine." Duncan said coldly and found that once again his leg would hold his weight and he rose from the ground. He was not upset by the fact that Sarah had bested him twice, he was pleased with that. When she knew she had wounded him she showed no signs of concern or regret. A fine trait in battle to be sure but so out of character for his wife. She had used the opportunity just as she should have, as he would want her to do in battle, it should not upset him. However, when she made that third pass and he had been lucky enough to roll away from her, Duncan had seen in her eyes that she had no intentions of merely stepping on his blade and holding the sword to his throat. Sarah was going to take his Goddamn head off right there. There was no mistake about it. "No more for today."

"Oh, what a shame." Came the sarcastic voice which was not quite Sarah's own.She rolled her eyes at him while she laughed wildly inside.

"Is it? Sit down." Duncan told her as he dropped the katana to the ground. It was time for a serious conversation, one that should have been had long ago. Duncan began to lead her into the conversation neither of them wanted to have. "You're angry with me. Why? It's me who has every right to be angry with you." The wait for a reply seemed excruiciating. She only stood there, one hand on her hip, the other still holding the sword. Those black eyes blazing a path straight through him.

"What right do you have to be angry?" Came her cold voice.

"What right...." his voice trailed off in disbelief. "You bring that man into our home without any warning whatsoever. Let him do as he pleases without any regard for me. You never bothered to mention just how important he is to you. Or just how much you really want to go off with him again." Duncan held up a hand to silence her. "Don't bother, I know it's what you want. More than anything, you want to be off rocking and rolling with him rather than being here with me."

Well, it wasn't quite true but it was close enough, Onya thought as she stood there. She did want to go off with Chris and so did Sarah. However, Sarah did want to stay here with her Champion more than she wanted to be with the Rock Star.

"It's your dream, always has been. Why did you give it up? If you say you did it for me, I have to tell you, that will only make it worse."

"But s--I--did do it for you." Be careful, Onya warned herself. He doesn't really know who he's talking to. "Isn't it what you want?"

"Not if you don't want to be with me. I'm not your warden, Sarah."

"Aren't you?" She shot at him. "Champion. Warden. Gate Keeper. What's the difference?"

Sweat trickled down his cheek and the back of his neck as he raised a hand to wipe it away from his brow. There was something about her voice, something different. He wished he could describe it better and could not. Except to say that at this moment, she looked a lot like Chris Lawless. Was she trying to bait him? She couldn't possibly believe that he was something akin to the prison warden. Could she? "Tell me about him." Dark mahogany eyes cast themselves away from her black diamond stare. The hair on the back of his neck began to prickle with electricity. "Give me that much, will you?"

"What's to tell? I think he probably showed you everything there is to know about him last night. After that, it's up to you to draw your own conclusions. Jareth's like that with everyone." She huffed and watched as he forced a smile and patted the ground next to him.

Duncan sighed and tried again. "Tell me how you met him." A direction question, statement or command was much more likely to gain a proper response from her than a more oblique one was.

Keeping up the appearance that sweet compliant Sarah was still here, Onya sat on the grass next to him and looked down at her hands. One which still held her sword and the other empty on her lap. On some deep inner level, the Champion did understand that sweet Sarah had taken a brief vacation, she saw that as she stared into his eyes. The Champion was still wrestling with the concept, still unable to truly believe what he knew was true. As long as that held, Onya would always have the upper hand. She stroked his fingers lightly with her own as she stared into those eyes and began to talk softly to him. Her voice faded and distant. "I was working in a night club out in LA. Jareth and some friends came in one night. He caught my show. He liked me. Asked to meet me. That was it."

"That's it? End of story?"

"I didn't say it was the end of the story, only the part about how I met him." Sarah said coyly.

Duncan swallowed hard and smiled at her through thin lips. "What happened after you met?" He prodded with a harsh smile. This game was not on his To Do list today, and he had no wish to play.

" Jareth was impressed with me, mostly because I pulled off his trade mark entrance with ease. We hit it off and got to spend some time together. What's the big deal, Ch--, Duncan?" Sarah asked roughly as she looked up at him. "I had a life before you came along. Sue me. You once said that you didn't care if I had pranced around naked on the stage. Remember? So what, suddenly you've found that you do care after all?"

"I guess I do." Duncan shot back at her. The fact that she was about to call him Champion just then did not escape his attention. "I just want to know. That's all. I don't want to pass judgment on it. I just want to know about it."

"How much of it do you want to know? Where shall I stop? How will I know when I've gone to far and it's become too much for you?" Sarah dropped his hand and rose quickly. She turned her back on him. A wide smile crossed her lips as her eyes sparkled. Last night had brought many things with it, chief among them being the drive to spill the beans about Sarah's past. The want to just let go and tell him everything he never wanted to know about Sarah Cooper. What would he do then? Onya was dying to find out.

Time for a little fishing expedition, Duncan thought as he sat on the grass looking up at his wife with her back to him. He had a feeling this was not going to any ordinary Sunday at the local fishing hole, no this expedition was going deep sea fishing. "You do drugs behind my back?"

Blazing coal eyes stared through him as she whipped around at the sound of his question which had come unfettered from his lips. "What do you care?"
"Answer me."

" Jareth offered it to me and I wanted it." Her head tilted to the side as she stared at him. "I like to get high."

"I noticed. I also noticed how much liquor you drank last night, that is what you let me see. I'm sure there was more that you snuck past me. Is that what your life out there with him was? One big party?"

"Pretty much. Interrupted only by two hour bouts of playing music."

"He get you into drugs?"

A roar of laughter escaped her as she slapped her knees with her arms against her stomach. She laughed so hard and genuinely that her stomach muscles began to ache. "Oh Gods, MacLeod! How naive are you? Or rather, how naive do you think I was?"

"I'll take that as a no." He shot. "What drugs have you done?"

"You want the short chemicals only list? Or the chronological order list?" She asked easily as she swiped a laughter produced tear from her cheek.

"I'll take the second."

"Let's see now," she raised a finger tip to her chin. "I smoked my first cigarette when I was twelve. Got drunk for the first time at twelve too." She sighed and reached back in her memory banks. Onya never forgot anything, lifetime to lifetime, she never forgot one single detail. "Got stoned the first time at fourteen. Started doing speed about fifteen. Acid came in somewhere around seventeen. A very short introduction to heroin came about at eighteen. Cocaine that year too. Pain killers came along somewhere around nineteen I guess."

"You got drunk at twelve?" He asked in an incredulous tone. "Why? What makes a twelve year old girl turn to her parents' liquor cabinet?"

"Seemed like the thing to do at the time." Was all the truth she would offer on that one.

"Were you a junkie?" Duncan's voice dropped low and though he did not want to show it, the concern was clear in his voice.

"An outright street junkie? No. Was I addicted? Yes."

"To which one?"

"I don't count pot, you can if you like it's up to you. Borderline alcoholic. Really loved acid . . . truly, madly, deeply." She closed her eyes as she held her hands to her heart at the memories. "But I actually got addicted to the pain killers."

"Why?"

"Because they did their job and they did it well. Why else?"

"What pain were they killing?"

"Headaches." The tone of her voice dared him to take his questioning further. She sat there and stared at him, waiting to see how far he would go. Playing with him so far had been very fun indeed. She was becoming interested in having a different kind of enjoyment with him now that Sarah had finally exhausted herself fallen to sleep.

"That all? Headaches?" Duncan understood the glare in her eyes. In response she gave a devilish smile and raised her eyebrows. “Must have been some damn headaches!" He groused as he rose to his feet and began to pace the area around her. Sarah only sat where she was, smiled up at him and watched the frustration over take him. "How the hell did you get through college? Why didn't you lose your scholarship if you were so strung out?"

"My grades never suffered." She said in a triumphant voice. "See, MacLeod, I'm the worst kind of addict. The kind that shows no signs and tells no tales. If I were to be strung out in front of you, you'd never know it. Never even suspect." Her voice softened again as she paused and looked him in the eye. "Yes, I am that good."

"How do I know you're not lying to me? How do I know you're not strung out right now?" The iciness inside of him was beginning to subside as he drew the hot July air into his lungs. The hair on his neck no longer stood up and his flesh no longer prickled from being goose bumped. Now his head felt light again, everything before him seemed to be coming to him in waves. Things wobbled and ebbed, they rippled and they flowed. Duncan began to feel very tired. It must be hotter than he had thought, he must be a bit dehydrated from the sword practice . Not to mention the aggravation from sitting here talking with her.

"You'll just have to take my word for it, I'm afraid. Didn't you know? I overachieve at everything I do." She looked him up and down and licked her lips. "I do mean, everything."

"I must have forgotten." He said flippantly.

"Like me to show you again?" She whispered as she rolled forward onto her knees, arched her back. Sarah began to crawl toward him with a hungry gleam in her eyes. She watched as he stopped his pacing and his jaw dropped slightly. "Don't you want me to show you, Duncan?" She purred. "You must be so frustrated by now." She traced her finger tips across his knee while she stared at up him and whispered "Why did you let her sleep alone last night?"

There was something in her voice, or was it her touch? Which made the light intoxication in his brain turn to euphoria. Duncan's shoulders which only a moment had been full of tension now began to relax and droop forward. Any moment now, he felt his knees would give out from under him and he would go crashing to the earth below his feet.

"It was a mistake on your part, Champion." Sarah's hand began to slide up the length of his bare thigh. "Don't you know? Everything she does during the day, she does it all, so she can lay her head on chest in the cold blackness of the night." Her finger tips flexed greedily as they touched upon the soft skin of his inside thigh, her nails sunk passionately in the flesh there and climbed steadily higher.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Duncan heard a small voice trying to scream but coming across as nothing more than a mumbled whisper. Aren't you listening to her? Can't you hear what she's saying? His body tingled all over now, his head felt lighter than ever, the sensation grew until he swore that soon he would float in the air, maybe even fly away from here under his own power. Instead he found himself settling to the ground by her side. As he sat, Duncan attempted to raise one of his arms. The limb which felt to him was full of helium, now felt weighted down with lead bricks and would not budge. Nor would his legs. He found that it was becoming increasingly harder just to hold his head up right.

"You must be more aggressive than that, Champion." Onya whispered in his ear as her hand found its way under the leg of the khaki shorts he wore once more. With a vengeful urgency, she pushed him full out on the soft grass as her mouth clamped down around his neck. She drew a large chunk of his flesh into her mouth and sucked on it hard with her tongue. He tasted wonderful. Very good indeed. Onya bit him. Not too hard, enough to make him jump even inside the trance she had induced for him. With much reserve, she released the hold her mouth held on his neck. The Champion Duncan macLeod was quite the physical specimen. Yes he was. Sarah had chosen well. If she had only known why she was choosing, what the end result would be, Onya knew Sarah would have taken Markus Denby over Duncan MacLeod without any hesitation whatsoever. Damn Aphrodite for that. But, maybe, just maybe mind you, Aphrodite should be praised and not damned for it. Maybe. With one hand slow hand, she reached under her dress to feel the moistness between her own legs. Her finger found its way inside herself, she thrust it in as he watched her, she brought the fresh juices on her hand to his lips and slid her finger into his mouth. "You like that, Champion?" She whispered hotly in his ear.

Duncan lay beneath her with the sweet taste of her rolling about on his tongue and sliding down his throat. "Yes," He no longer desired to be away from her. His body again grew light and electrified. Between his legs, his hardness grew to its full extent as it howled to be free.

"I hear it, Champion." Came her dark whisper as she raised one of his hands to touch her breast. She raised the other to her hip. His fingers grasped at the softness of her flesh at her command. Onya wanted very much to fulfill both of their desires. Out here on the soft grass of the rolling hill, under the hot July sun. That was Sarah's job and hers alone.

Duncan's head spun with a gentle electricity. Inside him the light weightless feeling eddied and flowed, then intensified until he would swear on a stack of Bibles that he was floating in the air. Everything around him stopped. Everything disappeared from his view. The birds no longer sang in his ears. There was nothing but Sarah . . .

....(Onya) . . .
And the Floating.
He reached out for her.

"Not this time, Champion." Onya rose to her feet. "Soon, very soon. She choose well." Her lips closed down over his in a passionate deep throated kiss. "Be more aggressive, Champion. She will not break." Onya ordered before she began to walk away from him.

"No," Came Duncan's breathless whisper. With the taste of her still fresh on his lips, he reached up and grabbed her by the hand. Duncan no longer believed there was any point in lying to himself, the woman with him was not his wife. She was..." Onya..."

Onya's lips curled into a snarl at the sound of her name. "So you know who I am, Champion."

"Yes," questioning eyes stared up at her. Now, he could see the subtle differences between the women. Sarah even looked taller and a bit wider than normal, maybe that was just the angle he was gazing at her from.

" What does it matter to you?"

"Damn it!" His tone was nothing more than a whisper. He dropped his hand from hers to run both hands through his midnight hair."Of course it matters to me." Suddenly afraid, Duncan rose to his feet. "I want to talk to my wife..now!" He began to take small steps toward her.

"No," Onya stood her ground and did not back away as she watched him come closer. "She's sleeping and can't be bothered. Why the concern, Champion? It's not as though you really love her." The warrior Goddess intoned as her eyes challenged him to come even closer to her. "We know what you want from her."

"What I want from her? What about what you want from her?" He reached out quickly and grabbed her by the upper arm.

Onya easily wrenched herself out of his hold and took a step back. "Don't you question me, little Champion. I do as I like, when I like." She reached out her lean arms, summoned the power within herself and shoved him to the ground beneath his feet. For once it was she who stood above him, she looked down, "You are not in control here. I am." She continued walking. She did not look back to see him sitting in unadulterated shock.