Note:

We stalled here a fair bit because, for some reason, we're not 
satisfied.  Tim Hunter, for example, seems very un	satisfactory.

A suggestion was to have a verbal argument between Mara and 
Tim somewhere in this, but it's a bit difficult considering that Tim 
was, at the time this story is supposed to take, a pretty passive 
person reluctant to use magic.

Any ideas/comments on that front?

-------------------

"At least with Constantine all I had to worry about was  
people trying to kill me."   

	-Tim Hunter to Rose Spiritus,  
	 "The Books of Magic"   

                            ~*~  

~ London, England ~  

Tim Hunter hated Magic.   

No matter what happened, it always came back to him.   

Magic, the kind that came with faeries and demons and  
creatures of myth.  The kind of magic that could bring down  
armageddon or bring about the greatest miracle.  

And it was his.   

Was.   

Ever since he let go of the Magic, and vowed to be an  
ordinary boy, ever since it cost him his girlfriend, his  
friends, his family, Magic had been anathema.  No more  
crazed angels seeking revenge.  No more love-struck  
succubuses.  No more fairies.  Well, the Faerie kind, not  
the...  

Ick, he really didn't want to THINK about that.   

"Awwww right, surrender, hos!" a small chorus shouted.   

"You first, fatties!"   

Dealing with two heavily armed deities was something new, he  
admitted, but that didn't make it any more enjoyable.  

He REALLY didn't want to deal with this.  An army of little  
Cupids and an army of little white-haired exotic goddesses.  

"Wellllllll, kid... what do you suggest?" a sultry voice  
whispered in his ear.  

And he really didn't want to deal with a Demoness either.   

Argh.   

                            ~*~  

                    Rod M. & David Tai  
                          present  

                     The finale of the  
              Oh My Goddess / Vertigo Trilogy  

                       Meddling Fates  

                           Part 2  

                   Blazing Guns of Love  

                            ~*~  

Mara's worst nightmare had come true.   

A bunch of mini-Urds all holding bazookas.   

Fortunately, for her, they were all aimed at a group of  
Cupids.  Time enough for her to talk to the boy.   

"Wellllllll, kid... what do you suggest?" she whispered into
his ear.  

Tim only stared back at her owlishly behind his glasses, and  
shrugged.  "I've no bloody idea."   

Mara frowned.  "No?"   

"Nope.  Sorry."   

"Tim Hunter, right?"   

"Yes?"   

"Tim Hunter, the Magus?  Tim Hunter, the Opener?"   

"Well, sort of."   

"Uh-huh."   

For Mara, it was strange enough.  How could such a boy  
possibly be a Magus?  With John Constantine, you knew enough  
not to question him.  This boy carried himself with an  
absolute lack of caring.  She decided to take matters into  
her hands. Perhaps getting him involved could make things  
easier for her to work her way into his confidence...   

After all, wouldn't it be a kick if she could manage to turn  
a future Magus to Evil?   

Now if only there weren't so many Urds...   

                            ~*~  

With the situation at a standoff, Urd pondered.  Which was  
in itself a rare thing for her.  She knew full well that in  
a competition between her and Cupid, one had to blink first.   
Well, one of the many Urds/Cupids out there.   

Fortunately, for her, at least, she had one in reserve.  Why  
not?  An ambush.   

"The Cavalry to the rescuuuuuuuue!!!" shouted one mini-Urd  
as she kamikazed through a glass window and tumbled onto her  
feet, rolling up to an completely off-guard mini-Cupid and  
sticking the barrel of the Super Heavy Cannon Mark XXI to  
the Cupid's head.  

And simultaneously, all the other mini-Urds grinned in  
synchronicity.  "Surrender, fatso, or you get a new hole in  
your head."   

Wait.  Why were all the Cupids grinning?   

And then mini-Urd felt a -click- near her ear.  Out of the  
corner of her eyes, she saw Cupid smirk.  "Why don't we pull  
ourselves together, eh, chick?"   

"Ain't this getting old?" one of the mini-Urd muttered.   

"Hey, ain't my fault," grumbled a mini-Cupid.   

                            ~*~  

Tim sighed a breath of relief as all the mini-Urds and  
mini-Cupids pulled themselves into two entities once again.   

The sigh was matched by Mara.  Perfect.  Less Urds to deal  
with, the better.   

Cupid and Urd were busy holding rifles at each other's  
forehead.  Not so perfect.   

"Surrender!" Urd shouted.   

"Not a chance, babycakes!" Cupid snarled, his finger  
convulsing on the trigger.   

"Put it down!"   

"You put it down!"   

"Drop it!"   

"You drop it!"   

Mara grinned.  This was going to be fun, watching the two of  
them get their brains blown out.  Of course, they probably  
didn't need them anyway.  And it'd be amusing to watch them  
be headless for a while.  She stretched, placing her hands  
on her neck.  Ahh, life was good.   

And then Tim stepped forward.  "Hey!  Wait a minute!"   

Mara stared at the boy.  Of all the approaches, she didn't  
think he'd do this.  

                            ~*~  

This was probably very stupid, just telling them to wait,  
Tim admitted to himself.  They could end up pointing those  
things at him instead, but something had to be done.  He  
wondered how John Constantine would deal with this, but only  
briefly.   

"Wait a minute!  Wait!"   

The two combatants slowly and cautiously swiveled their eyes  
to the approaching boy.  Urd's brow wrinkled in confusion,  
while Cupid's widened in recognition.  

"Oh, hey Hunter," he said casually.  "Whassup?"   

"I really do hate to interrupt you two here, you have no  
idea how much I do, but could you please have your gunfight  
in a more isolated place?  You're hitting bystanders, and  
it's having a rather strange effect them."  

"Hey," asked Urd.  "Who's the kid?  Name sounds familiar."   

"Tim Hunter," replied Cupid.  "Magician."   

"Oh."   

This wasn't going quite like Tim was expecting, but at least  
nobody was shooting.  

                            ~*~  

Mara was unhappy.   

Nobody was shooting.   

The kid actually cooled the situation, and without magic.   
Surprise, surprise.  

This had to be fixed, and soon.   

"The kid's right!" shouted Mara, striding confidently after  
the boy.  "Random shooting: bad thing!  That's no way to  
settle this, is it?"  

Both deities had the decency to look a little bashful at  
this point, grumbling, scratching the backs of ther heads,  
and pulling their guns away.   

"What are-" asked Tim, but the demoness cut him off.   

"Now then!  What I see here is a god and a goddess looking  
to claim the title of Deity of Love, am I right?  Am I  
right?"   

"Er-" said Urd.   

"I dunn-" said Cupid.   

"Of course I'm right," said Mara quickly.  "What we need to  
prove here is LOVE, people!  Love!"   

"I guess..."   

"Well, maybe.."   

"So here's the idea," said Mara.  "Let's see some proof that  
you're better at making other people fall in love.  You  
know, like in the old days.  Zap with the arrows and all  
that neat stuff, yeah?"   

"Better than random shooting I guess..."   

"Kinda makes sense, yeah..."   

"Wait a minute!" protested Tim.   

Mara grinned.  The trick with using a silver tongue was to  
never let'em have time to think about what she just said.   

"We're agreed?" asked Mara.  "Great!  Okay!  On your mark!   
Get set!  GOOOO!"   

Startled by the sudden countdown, the two fumbled with their  
weapons briefly, then disappeared.  Mara sighed, a deep and  
satisfied sigh, and leaned lazily against the wall.   

"Yeeeep, still got the touch."   

"I don't think that improved the situation," said Tim.   

"Au contrare, mon ami," said Mara confidently.  "They now  
have _focus_!  They're out to make people _happy_, aren't  
they?"   

"I guess."   

"And I don't think you'd have liked the alternative."   

"Alternative?"   

"I _was_ going to suggest that they see if they can match  
_you_ up with someone."   

"No!  No thanks!"   

"Uh huh.  That's what I thought."  Mara stretched, then  
rubbed her gloved hands together.  "Now then, this is a good  
time to do something about those two."   

"Huh?"   

"Think a moment.  While they're distracted, we could work on  
finding a solution."  Gullible sucker.   

"Uh."  Tim thought for a moment, bringing his hand to rub at  
his chin in thought.  Oh, that was just too precious, him  
trying to look wise.   

Mara grinned broadly.  "We could find Psyche."   

"Eh?"  For some reason, Tim looked terribly unenthusiastic  
about this.   

Mara could care less.  She figured it would take a while to  
locate Psyche, which would give her plenty of time to talk  
to Tim. And that was just fine with her.  "You see, kid, I  
figure, hey, Cupid's upset.  You know how it is.   
Frustrated, frantic, and he ends up shooting all over the  
place?  So, we find Psyche, we patch things up, everything's  
copacetic."   

"I guess so." Tim shrugged.   

Oh, the poor boy, so unsure of himself.  This was going to  
be easier than she thought.   

"So where to first?" Tim asked.   

Mara blinked.  Hmmm...   

And then she grinned.   

"Italy."   

"WHAT?!"   

                            ~*~  

~ Elsewhere in London ~  

High atop Big Ben, two snipers were setting up their nest.   
The unsuspecting populace below would never know what hit  
them.   

Cupid whistled while polishing his sniper rifle, while Urd  
flicked a few switches on her Super Heavy Cannon Mark XXI.   

"You gonna use THAT?" asked Cupid.   

Urd raised an eyebrow, then flicked a switch.  The Super  
Heavy Cannon Mark XXI suddenly compressed, transforming from  
a massive cannon into a narrow tube.  At the tip of the  
barrel, a laser scope popped up.   

"When accuracy is important," she said smugly.   

Cupid's expression flattened.  "Uh huh.  Skuld made that for  
ya, I bet."   

Urd grumbled, but didn't reply directly.   

"So, who goes first?" asked Cupid.   

"Got a coin?" asked Urd.   

"Oh.  Right."   

They tossed the coin.   

Unseen, a mini-Mara watched from the shadows.  No way was  
she going to miss what these two lunatics were going to do.  

                            ~*~  

~ Italy ~  

He was in Italy.   

It was a nice part of Italy, a large section of countryside  
near the sea, but it was still Italy far from home.   

Tim had no foggy idea why, except that the demoness Mara had  
somehow dragged him there.  Through some kind of CD network.   
Yeah, CD network.  Apparently Mara travelled through CDs.   
It was just... typical of his recent lifestyle, he supposed.   

"Remind me, why are we looking for Psyche?" he asked Mara.   

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked.  "Oh, wait, you weren't here  
when he blew his little temper tantrum."  

"He blew a tantrum?"   

"Nothing to worry about," said Mara.  "Didn't miss much.   
Anyway, seems that fatso's gone, pardon the pun, psycho,  
when Psyche left him."  

"Psyche?"   

"His girlfriend.  Has this thing with butterflies."   

"Oh, her."   

Mara was about to continue, but the tone of Tim's voice made  
her curious.  "Say... you met Cupid before?"   

"A year ago," he replied.  "San Francisco."   

"Oh."   

"So, we're here to find Psyche, are we?"   

"Yep."   

"Why Italy?"   

"I... hrm.  Actually, I have no idea.  It just seemed like a  
place she'd go to."  

Tim crossed his arms and stared at her doubtfully.  "Right."   

"Hey!  It's an old Roman story, you know.  Beautiful Psyche  
gets swept off her feet because stupid Cupid accidentally  
shoots himself with an arrow... Well, he says it's an  
accident, but between you and me, I don't buy that. Wouldn't  
you shoot yourself with a love arrow for a babe like  
that?... oh right, back to the point. Anyway, he takes her  
off to this... um..."  

Tim sighed.  "A castle by the sea or something, a real  
secluded place.  Right.  So how do we find it?"  He rubbed  
his head, looking towards the mountain range in the  
distance.  "I suppose you want to check that out."   

Mara smiled.  "Why not?"   

They stood there, staring at the mountains for a while.   

"So," said Mara.   

"So," said Tim.   

There was a moment of silence.   

"You can't 'magic' us over there?" asked Tim.   

"You mean you can't?" asked Mara.   

"No, I can't."   

Mara stared at Tim for a little bit, then shrugged.  "Okay,  
I guess we walk.  It's a nice evening for it anyway."   

                            ~*~  

~ Back in London ~  

Both Urd and Cupid looked across the streets below with  
their target sights, looking for the perfect target.   

It was Urd's turn now, but there weren't any rules against  
Cupid just looking around.   

"Ah," said Urd.  "Here we go."   

"Whassup?"   

"By the bus stop, bald boy about to walk by the Pakistani  
girl."   

She hesitated a moment, then pulled the trigger.  Her weapon  
buzzed with the energy release, sending a narrow beam of  
pink energy right through the boy's heart.  She fired a  
second time, this one hitting the girl.  As the two walked  
by each other, they hesitated.  Eye contact was made, with  
shy smiles exchanged.   

"Got it going, got it going," said Urd.  "Here we go, here  
we go aaand..."   

The boy made a clumsy attempt at an opening line, not quite  
working but still amusing the girl.  She talked back to him  
enthusiastically, and soon they were talking as if they'd  
known each other forever.   

Urd pumped her fist in the air, grinning.  "Ba-BING!  Point  
t'me!"   

Cupid was not impressed.  "Wha'was dat?"   

"The boy is a neo-nazi.  He'd rather have slashed her throat  
than talked to her, and now there's a little more peace in  
the world.  Top that, chunky."   

"Maybe I will," he said defiantly.  Switching off the  
safety, he took aim.  "See them two down there?  Boy in  
blue, girlie in grey.  S'a Montague-Capulet thang, see?"   

"Family rivalries, huh?"   

"Not anymo'."  *BANG* *BANG*  

"Feh, passe."  She took aim once more, tagging another pair  
through their hearts.  "Girl was a lesbian."   

"Oh yeah?"  *BANG*BANG* "Those dudes weren't gay."   

                            ~*~  

~ A road in Italy ~  

Tim had to admit, it was a nice walk.  The air was warm, but  
with the steady breeze it didn't feel so bad, and the night  
air helped too.  The demoness Mara seemed to, for once, be  
quiet during the walk, though that was about to change.   

"Hey, kid, what's with you and magic?  You don't seem to be  
using it at all."   

"Not going to," he replied.   

"Oh?  Why?"   

"It's too much trouble," sighed Tim.  "John might put up  
with it, I think he enjoys it, but I can't and I won't."   

"John?"   

"Constantine."   

Mara frowned.  "Oh.  Him."   

Tim nodded.  "He seems to get that reaction from a lot of  
people."   

"You don't know the half of it," she grumbled.   

"I've enough of magic," continued Tim.  "So one day I just  
let it all go."   

"Let it all go?" asked Mara.  "What do you mean, let it go?"   

"I just... let it flow out into the world, I guess," said  
Tim.  "I certainly don't use it anymore."   

Mara gave Tim an appraising look, then shook her head.  "If  
you think you ditched the magic, think again kid.  Nobody  
shakes the magic.  You've still got it in you."   

Tim looked at Mara irritably.  "You're the second girl to  
tell me that, and I'm not believing it now either."   

Mara thought about that for a moment, then laughed.  "Ah, a  
magus in denial, this day just keeps getting more amusing."   

They spent the next few minutes making their way through  
high grassy fields, with the only sounds being the roar of  
the ocean, birdsong, and Mara humming something.   

"What's that you're humming?" Tim asked.   

Mara replied, "ABBA."   

Tim nodded.  "ABBA?"   

Mara nodded.  "You ever been to a party where you hear a  
song, and it's just STUCK in your head?"   

"Not really."   

"Ah.  Sheesh, kid, you need to loosen up."   

"That's funny.  That's what John said."  Tim kicked at a  
pebble in his path.   

Mara saw an opening.  Was that a touch of envy?  Something  
to work with.   

"How did you meet John?"   

Tim paused, and looked at Mara for a moment.  "He tried to  
get me to use magic, him and a bunch of other magicians."   

Mara pondered for a moment.  "Lemme guess, four of them?   
All wearing trenchcoats?  One of them was blind?"   

Tim nodded  

"Aaah," said Mara.  "The infamous Trenchcoat Brigade."   

"Infamous?"   

"Well, in my side of things, anyway.  Those boys took down a  
lot of my co-workers, y'know."  

"Oh, I suppose they would be infamous, then."   

"There was this one thing they showed me," said Tim.  "They  
showed me a future... it wasn't nice."   

Mara's brow wrinkled in thought.  "You don't say?  What kind  
of future?"   

"Oh, not much," said Tim.  "Just a future version of me  
leading an army of darkness and evil on a campaign of terror  
and world domination."  He thought about this for a moment.   
"I guess I would've been your boss."   

Mara smiled.  Now THIS was interesting.  "Guess so," she  
replied.   

"But, as I said, I don't do the magic anyonre.  Don't care  
what you or anyone else says."   

"If you say so," she replied pleasantly.   

At last they reached the mountain range, and within its  
shadows they found a small but elegant stone house.  The  
architecture was that of classic rome, with perfectly white  
walls and cobblestone walkways.  

Tim looked at Mara expectantly, who was looking at him in  
the same way.  He shrugged, then knocked on the wall next to  
the archway leading into the house.  

"Um, hello?   

There was no answer.   

Tim peered through the archway.  Still no answer.  As he  
started to step in, Mara brushed past him, and yelled, "YOO  
HOOOOOOOOO!  ANYONE HOME?!"  She looked over at Tim   
briefly, and shrugged, giving a false smile.  "Looks like nobody's  
home.  Another place?"   

Perfect, more time to spend on bringing young Mr. Hunter to  
his true potential.  

Tim was about to respond, when a lone butterfly flew in.   
And then another.  And then another.   

"Hey!  What's this?!" Mara shouted, trying to cover her face  
as a swarm of butterflies suddenly filled the air, flowing  
in through the open-air house.  The lack of a roof let in  
the moonlight and the butterflies, creating an air of magic,  
which consolidated...   

Tim stood there with a smirk, knowingly.   

In a moment, a young lady with eyes as old as the cosmos,  
and wings of gossamer, much like a butterfly, stood in the  
center of the swarm, a butterfly nestled on one finger.   

"You called?"   

                            ~*~  

~ Back in London ~  

Both Urd and Cupid had taken a timeout on the day's  
competition, writing in their scorecard and tallying up the  
totals thus far.   

"Okay," said Urd.  "Counting the twenty on the bus, I come  
out to a total of a hundred and sixty-eight."  She nodded  
happily and scribbled the number on her scorecard.   

"Not so fast," said Cupid.  "Ya got penalties."   

"Penalties?" asked Urd.  "What the heck for?"   

"Leeeet's see," said Cupid.  "You missed 12 of your shots,  
deduct six points.  You made a dude fall in love with a fire  
hydrant, minus two.  You hit a happily married man and now  
the punk's havin' an affair, minus ten.  Few other penalties  
too."   

"Oh.  Damn."  Urd crossed out her earlier score, thought  
about it, then wrote down a new score. "A hundred and...   
thirty-eight."   

Feeling better about it, Cupid started to tally his own  
score, scribbling imaginary numbers in the air and mumbling.   

"Lesse... the two on the bridge... suicidal guy and the  
girlie cop... that boat on the Thames... a hundred and...   
ninety-three."   

He was about to write that number down, when Urd coughed  
loudly.  "Ahem.  You forgetting something?"   

Cupid was humble enough to look a little sheepish, pulling  
his pencil back.  "Oh, yeah.  Lesse... missed four... hit  
the dude and his dog... two passing seagulls..."  He paused  
and asked Urd, "Hey, those two seagulls fell in love.  S'at  
really a penalty?"  

"We weren't aiming for wildlife, Q-boy," replied Urd.   
"Points off."  

"Aw.  Awright."  He muttered a little longer, drew a few  
more imaginary figures in the air, then wrote down his  
tally.  "A hundred'n sixty-eight."   

"Ah, damn."  Urd tucked her scorecard away and sighed.   
"Hour break?"  

"Hour break."   

"Don't be late, fatboy."   

"I be here if you be here, bimbo."   

                            ~*~  

~ Psyche's home ~  

"You called?" the young lady with the butterfly wings asked  
again.  She seemed unusually somber, as she studied the slow  
fluttering of her butterfly.   

"Psyche?" Mara ventured.   

Psyche tilted her head, ignoring Mara, to give Tim a glance  
with one arched eyebrow.  "What brings you here?"   

Tim lifted a hand to wave timidly. "Hello, Psyche.  Ah,  
we're here, you know, to talk about..."  

"Cupid!" Mara cut in.  She couldn't let the boy take  
control, not till she had him primed.  Tim blinked at her  
owlishly.  

Psyche, however, shook her head, a small frown crossing her  
delicate face.  

"Cupid?  He needs time to find himself."   

Now Mara looked confused.  "But I thought you left him."   

Psyche shook her head. "No... I sent him away." She sighed,  
returning her gaze to the butterfly on her finger.  "If he  
couldn't live with himself, how could I?"  

Tim blinked.  "What do you mean?"   

Psyche turned her attention back towards Tim, frowning.  "I  
lost myself in the part, in the Reconfiguration.  It became  
so easy to be what people wanted me to be.  Cupid forced  
others to love, but he couldn't really understand.  He  
forgot, and he hasn't been able to reclaim what Love is."   

Mara took a step back, letting Tim converse, her thoughts  
whirling.  Oho. So Cupid was basically running rampant, was  
he?  Maybe if she played her cards right, she could reel in  
both Cupid and Tim.  

Tim looked uncomfortable.  And why not?  Love hadn't been a  
successful thing for him these days.  So he looked back  
towards Mara for advice.   

Mara saw she wasn't about to have time to think, so she  
shrugged. "Well, Cupid's busy shooting up London at the  
moment."  

Now a hint of anger crossed Psyche's face.  "Of course he'd  
react that way.  I should've known.  Typical male  
pigheadness."  She released the butterfly on her finger, and  
turned to Tim.  "Take me to him."   

Mara frowned.  She wasn't going to get much more time to  
work her way into Tim's confidence.  Ah well, it couldn't be  
helped.  But... maybe if Cupid and Psyche were still on the  
outs...   

"I'll take you to them." Mara said.   

Tim regarded her curiously.   

"What?  I'm keeping an eye on them already, and they're not  
doing anything.  Much.  Lardass's scarfing himself, and Urd  
looks like she's guzzling sake by the gallon.  Oh, I think  
they're about ready to start up again... yep."   

Psyche looked up towards Mara, and nodded.   

"Then we depart."   

                            ~*~  

~ London once again ~  

Urd blew on the smoking barrel of her weapon, grinning like  
a cheshire cat.  "Top that, hotshot."   

He had to admit, that was a pretty good one, for the guy to  
fall back in love with the girl that chopped his... well...   

Cupid just grumbled, and began to scan the city for  
something adequately impressive.  With that last shot, Urd  
was almost even with-  

"And may I remind ya, I've now got the lead," said Urd  
smugly.   

Cupid frowned.  "Ho'up!  Wha'cha mean you got the lead?!"   

Urd pulled her scorecard out and pointed at the latest  
score.  "See?"   

Cupid squinted as he read the numbers, then scowled.   
"Waiiiit a minute!  That ain't right!"   

It wasn Urd's turn to wrinkle her brown and scowl.   
"Whadayamean it ain't right?  The damn math is right in  
front of ya."   

"You counted THAT as a triple score?" he asked skeptically.   

Urd looked at what Cupid was pointing at and snorted.  "Of  
course it's a triple score!"   

"Bull-shee-ite!" spat Cupid. "A woman pregnant with twins  
should only count as ONE!"   

"Bullshit your own fatass self!" yelled Urd.   

"Don't be callin'me a fatass!"  Both sensed a snapping point  
in tension and reflexively lunged for their guns in a  
spinning motion. As they turned around, they both found  
themselves staring down the business ends of sticks that went   
"boom".   

And then a butterfly drifted betwen them, landing on Cupid's  
barrel.   

They both could sense there was something amiss about that  
butterfly, though Cupid was fairly sure what was going to  
happen next.   

"Aw man."   

Suddenly, the air was filled with a blizzard of butterflies,  
turning the moonlit sky into a myriad of rainbow colors in  
the night.  There was a subtle scent of flowers in the air,  
and then an elfin female figure emerged from the butterfly  
blizzard, looking at Cupid with sadness and pity.  Tim and  
Mara followed a second later.   

"What are you doing here?" Cupid snarled, glaring at Psyche.   
The sentiments were echoed by Urd to Mara.  Tim stood off to  
the side, looking rather embarrassed.  

Mara retorted, "Just helping out," before motioning for Urd  
to shut up and watch the two reunited lovers.  

Psyche crossed her arms just a bit, her eyes full of  
disappointment.  Cupid wanted to hide.  But he managed to  
suck in his considerable gut and stand up.  "See, I'm  
getting along just fine without you, eh?"  

Psyche's voice was as cold as the dark nights of winter.   
"Spreading love and joy around the world, aren't you?"  

"Um, right, dear, I can explain."   

Psyche tapped her foot, crossing her arms, and Cupid, for  
that moment, suddenly realized he wasn't facing the quietly  
passive Psyche he'd been with the last few centuries.  Here,  
then, was the Psyche who'd undertaken three nearly  
impossible tasks for Aphrodite for love.  The Psyche who had  
bewitched mortal men, to the point where she'd drawn  
Aphrodite's attention and jealousy.  The Psyche that Cupid  
had fallen in love with.   

Cupid was dizzy.  He just had to sit down.   

If only he could get out of this.  There just wasn't  
anything as bad as a woman making you feel like you'd done  
something very wrong when you hadn't...   

She had to be wrong.  No.  She was the one who left him.   

                            ~*~  

Mara was frowning to herself.  The guy still had it bad for  
Psyche, even if he hadn't really cared all that much about  
how she felt the last few years.   

But fortunately, she had a way to make sure that things  
wouldn't go too smoothly.  Men were so easy to deal with.   

Mara sauntered up behind Urd, a carefully planned move, then  
said to Cupid, "Hey, come on.  Be a man.  Go apologize."  

Cupid's head jerked up to stare at her, and by virtue of her  
position, Urd's smirk as well.  This didn't help calm things  
down at all, which was (to Mara) the entire point.  

And of course, Cupid immediately reacted as she'd hoped.   

"Hell, no!  I didn't do anything wrong!"   

And Cupid immediately grabbed for his rifle.   

Perfect.   

Urd aimed her cannon-rifle at Cupid.  "Put that down, fat  
boy!"   

Even better.   

"Make me!" Cupid snarled.   

Tim took a good step back.  

Mara grinned.  High tension moment.  Had to yell just the  
right word... nothing that would diffuse the situation, but  
nothing too obvious either.  Oh, this would work...   

"Hey!"   

At her yell, Cupid twitched and opened fire by reflex.  Urd  
dove to the side, nailing Cupid right between the eyes.   

"Stop it!" cried Psyche, "both of you!"   

"Say," said Tim.  "Aren't those the guns..."   

Mara ignored them both, staring at her chest.  Chocolate  
splattered all over her clothes.  Hah.  She looked back up,  
ready to deliver a tongue-lashing to the big fat idiot.  She  
locked eyes with the deity, then froze.   

Now why hadn't she noticed what a handsome man he really  
was?  That little beer belly was just so perfect.  Oh, and  
the chocolate splatter on his chest just set off his eyes so  
perfectly...   

Dimly, she heard Urd cry, "Oh damn."   

But Mara didn't care.   

She was in Love.   

And, judging by the look she saw in Cupid's eyes...  

So was he.  

- end part 2 -  

----------------------------

LOVE, n.   

A temporary insanity curable by marriage or by removal of the  
patient from  the influences under which he incurred the disorder.  
This disease, like  caries and many other ailments, is prevalent  
only among civilized races  living under artificial conditions;  
barbarous nations breathing pure air and  eating simple food enjoy  
immunity from its ravages. It is sometimes fatal,  but more  
frequently to the physician than to the patient.   

	-The Devil's Dictionary by Ambrose Bierce