"Gemma?"

The back door of the silver SUV opened and someone stuck their head out, looking directly at me. I probably should have said some-thing. Its face was a very pale bluish color and it looked off, but I knew the reason was because it actually had scales and not skin.

"Mom, if you don't get us out of here in the next ten seconds we're both dead."

Popping my belt, I grabbed the seat-back release and pulled it while I tumbled in the rear of the minivan. I heard Mom suck in a breath while I scrambled underneath the bench seat and pulled out the tire jack and more importantly the tire iron.

The sound of glass crunching made me spin around right when a scaled arm reached through the passenger door window for Mom. She shrieked and backed away, not wanting it to touch her, like it was a scurrying cockroach. With all of my might, I swung the tire iron and laid it across the forearm hearing a satisfying crunch of bone. With my other hand I swung the jack across the seat into the thing's face, knocking it out of the van.

"Go!" I yelled.

It didn't take anymore convincing for Mom to slam the minivan into drive and floor the accelerator. A half a block away she screamed at me. "What was that!"

"Sewer Fairy." Her eyes flicked to me in the rearview mirror. "They're not the nice butterfly looking things in myth. They want nothing more than for man to be wiped off the face of the planet so they can have their wilderness back."

She took a right at the second corner and I looked out the back window to make sure we weren't being followed.

"How do you know this?"

The moment of truth had arrived. "Mom, I don't think I'm your daughter anymore, not since she died anyway."

"But..."

"It's kind of hard to explain." Before she had a chance to protest, I cut her off. "Circle back around. They're probably gone now."

She shook her head. "We're not going back there."

Setting my hand on her shoulder, I eased into a calm voice. "They don't want to be exposed any more than necessary. I'm kind of surprised they tried to make a hit in suburbia in the first place. They must have been desperate."

Reluctantly, she followed my instructions. It took a few turns since the layout of the streets weren't exactly block patterned. We paused at a stop sign and I looked to make sure that the area was clear.

"We're good. Pull right up into the garage and shut the door before you get out, just in case."

By the time we entered the house, I could see the shock hadn't worn off. I set some water to boil and grabbed the phone right after. Punching in the number from the ad, I stared at Mom sitting in a chair at the breakfast table looking lost and a bit disheveled. A mechanical click sounded and then an automated voice arose.

"Please state the nature of your problem. We will get back to you as soon as possible."

I hit two-seven-seven-three and the machine clicked off, switching to a ringing tone afterward.

"Hello?" His voice was generic male and unremarkable, like anyone you would meet off the street.

"Codename Red-4355269-Theta. Patch me through to Blue."

Mom looked up at me, staring like she didn't understand what I just said. My memory was coming back to me in leaps and bounds.

A couple of clicks later and there was a long pause, then a voice that was very familiar came through. "Who is this?" He sounded kind of angry.

"Abe, it's me. Don't ask me how it happened. I don't have a clue myself."

I heard a sigh, like someone was trying to restrain himself. "Prove it. Tell me something that only Red would know."

This time it was my turn to sigh. "That's the problem. My memory is like Swiss cheese. Look, research it yourself. Contact Memorial City Hospital morgue. Gemma Saunders woke up during an autopsy two days ago, no medical explanation."

"Two days ago?" Abe sounded a lot more interested.

"Yeah." Noticing a stack of mail on the counter I recited the address where we were at. "Is there any reason a sewer fairy would have it in for me?"

"Dammit." There was another long pause. "I'll check your story out. Stay put."

The line disconnected.

Mom kind of kept to herself for the next hour. I made her three cups of chamomile tea and kept myself busy with unloading the minivan and storing away my clothes. Full dark was already around when Dad made it in. He was standing at my doorway.

"Hey," I said as I was folding up the shopping bags.

"What's wrong with your mother? She won't say anything to me."

I paused for a moment as I tried to figure out a way to explain what was happening. "I'm starting to get my memory back."

A smile lifted his lips. "What? That's great."

I shook my head. "It's kind of hard to explain."

He turned serious again. "Is this about the drugs?"

"What?" I was momentarily confused and then chuckled a little. "No, nothing like that." I started to just lay it out for him, but with nothing and no way to prove myself I'd just sound like a raving teenager. I sure as hell wouldn't believe me. "There's some people coming over... hopefully."

Luckily, I didn't have to say anymore as we were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell going off. Dad looked down the hall and then back at me.

I pointed in the general direction of the front door. "That's probably them."

He didn't appear satisfied that his home was about to be invaded by people he didn't know, but I could see the curiosity on his face nonetheless. Stepping back he waved his hand for me to proceed him. Mom was on the couch looking at the door with something akin to trepidation. I suppose if I had just been attacked by a mythical being and I didn't know about them being real, I'd probably be the same way.

"It's okay. They're the good guys," I said, trying to reassure her.

She didn't say anything as I crossed the floor to peer out the right side window that bordered the door, just in case. When I saw Abe's face, the tension in my gut eased a little. I unlocked and opened the door.

"Abe."

He was a lot taller than me, maybe six or seven inches, late-twenties with short brown hair, close-cropped on the sides. His knee coat was open and I could see his standard issue service belt with its many pouches that held a number of items used in combating the creatures of the night. Well, that and the .357 resting on his hip. Sometimes those same creatures are pretty big.

Movement from behind him caught my attention. A girl, in her mid-twenties with dark brown hair raised an eyebrow at me.

"Lez?" I said.

She rolled her eyes. "It's him."

Her name was actually Liz, Elizabeth Sherman, but I always called her Lez, for obvious reasons. She was a lesbian and try as I might I could never talk her into giving me a shot in bed.

I smirked and stepped back. They took the gesture as it was meant, an unspoken invitation. You're never supposed to invite anyone into your home. There are many natural protections on a person's house that are easily circumvented by two simple words: come in. Vampires, fairies, zombies, basically anything that is supernatural and in solid form. Ghosts, spirits, unbound souls, spiritual travelers, and others were somewhat harder to keep out.

Abe eyed my Mom and Dad and they returned the stare.

"Guys, this is my... mom and dad." I listened to how that sounded. While they weren't actually my real mother and father, they were at the moment. "Mom, Dad, this is Abe Zapien, and Liz Sherman. They're here to help."

Dad was eying the weapons that were hanging from their hips. Liz took the hint and reached into her pocket to retrieve her identification. "We're federal officers, Mr. Saunders. No need to be alarmed."

Dad took her I.D. and looked it over. "What B.P.R.D.?"

"The Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense," I answered.

Abe looked me over. "I thought you said you couldn't remember anything."

"My memory is coming back. Bits and pieces."

Dad didn't look too convinced. "Paranormal? Like ghosts and vampires? Are you serious?"

"Dad," I warned. "Ask Mom what happened this afternoon."

His face went from laughing disbelief to serious when he turned to her. Mom's skin was whiter than normal. "Julie?"

She looked down and covered her face with her hands. "It's true. We were attacked."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" I asked my friends. "I don't remember ticking off any fairies recently."

Liz turned to me. "You don't remember finding..."

"Liz," Abe cut her off. "We still don't know if she really is Red."

I saw him digging into his coat pocket and withdrawing a set of ancient looking goggles.

"What's that?" Asked Dad.

"Schufften Goggles," answered Liz. "They allow the user to see things that are actually there instead of what our eyes show us."

Abe donned the old leather apparatus and a number of focusing lenses shifted about until they stopped. "Whoa."

After a moment he took them off and handed the set to Liz who just held them up to her eyes without slipping the restraint over her head. her mouth ticked to the side with amusement and she passed them to Dad.

"What are you guys seeing?" I asked.

"You," says Liz. "The real you."

~O~

Mom and Dad didn't take the news very well. I had a large amount of sympathy for them. Not only did they lose a child, but they find out that her body is being possessed by a spook hunter. Male no less. Dad still didn't believe it until Liz gave him a sample of the nightlife. She's a pyrokinetic, the only one among us with actual powers, and nothing says I believe! like a fist full of blue and orange flames inches away from your face.

Abe, Liz, and I retired to the breakfast table in the kitchen to give my parents time to themselves.

"What do you remember about the Thirteen Artifacts?" asked Abe.

From the way he stressed the words, I guessed that they were capitalized. I shook my head. "I got nothing."

Abe grunted. "The first is the balance..."

Liz interrupted. "We don't have time for a history lesson, Blue." She turned to me. "You need to know about four of them and a general overview."

Abe shrugged and gestured for Liz to continue.

"There are thirteen artifacts floating around the world. Individually, each possesses a power to be reckoned with. The legend goes that if they were all brought together under one person that controlled the thirteenth... well, the end of the world as we know it."

I squinted my eyes for a second, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Looking at Abe was no help; he just shrugged again.

"Okay," I nodded. "Go ahead."

Liz sipped at her coffee, then put it down and held it between her hand as if to warm them. "There's the Angelus and the Darkness, pretty much what you expect them to be: the light and the dark, opposing forces that have been battling each other since their creation. They had a brief truce and created a third being, the Witchblade. It's the balance between the two, keeping them from each other's throats."

"The Witchblade," I confirmed. "You make it sound like they're people."

"They are. The artifacts can look pretty much like anything, but mostly disguise themselves as jewelry: a necklace, bracelet, whatever. But don't be fooled, they're sentient."

"Right," I conceded.

"These three are otherwise known as the Trinity, the most powerful of any of the Artifacts. We've come across a few of the others over the years and actually posses two of them. The Spear of Destiny we hold until the rightful owner is revealed." She sipped at her coffee again and then looked hard at me. "The other is the one that you need to know about. There's a prophecy involved."

At the utterance of that word, prophecy, I cringed. I did know one thing above all others: I hated prophecies. "And this has what, exactly, to do with me?"

She looked at Abe and he took over. "There's been some conjecture as to whether or not you are the one the prophecy is talking about. It spoke of one with the aspects of two. We never really knew what it meant, until now."

It didn't take a genius to figure out that I was of two aspects at the moment: male and female, in the same body.

"Okay, so I'm the person in the prophecy. Now what?"

Abe leaned forward and became deathly serious. "It means that you are the wielder of the Thirteenth Artifact: The Right Hand of Doom."

"That sounds kind of ominous."

~O~

Before leaving, Liz and Abe made arrangements for the following day, laid some additional protections around the house and left me with my supply belt, my old supply belt. Liz swapped my .357 out with M1911A1 that would actually fit my smaller hand and still have decent stopping power.

Mom and Dad were cordial enough while guests were still in the house, but once Abe and Liz were gone, I turned from the closed door to see them sitting together, huddled on the couch, hand in hand.

I wound up the belt and set it beside the armchair where I sat down. "I'm sorry about all of this. You guys didn't ask for or deserve this so soon after..."

It was Dad who got voted spokesperson for the two. "You're really not our daughter?"

I met his eyes for a brief moment and then dropped them to the floor, shaking my head slightly. "I'll leave tomorrow morning if you want."

Mom jerked and covered her mouth before tucking into her husband's shoulder. Dad just stared off at nothing in particular. "That's our Gemma's body."

He didn't say it in anger or accusation which was what I was expecting. It was a defeated sound, a tone that spoke of helplessness and despair. "We'll never have the chance to..."

Say goodbye? See her laying in a coffin covered in pancake makeup, in a dress she'd never have ever worn? Bury her?

"I understand, and that's why I want to leave the decision up to you."

His eyes tracked to me in confusion.

"It's your daughter's body. While it would be within my power to just take off and never see you again, I think doing so would be morally wrong."

Mom dabbed a tissue at her eyes and finally looked at me. "What are you saying?"

"I don't know." Wringing my hands a few times, it took effort to keep looking at them. "Ever since I deduced what had happened, I keep trying to figure out why this specific body, why this specific family."

"What happened?" asked Mom. "To the old you, I mean."

"Abe said I was in a fight with the fairies and I was overwhelmed. They wanted to kidnap me and make a trade for something the BPRD has. I killed myself so they couldn't use me."

Dad blinked at me and Mom sucked in a breath. I smiled grimly. "I'm a Catholic, you see. I was expecting to wake up in Hell, but instead, God or someone with some serious power put me into Gemma's body."

"What's so important that you had to risk your soul?" asked Dad.

I shook my head. "The thing they're after..." I stopped before I spilled secrets that nobody should know, but seeing the torment they were going through, I felt if anyone deserved to know why this was happening then it was them. "If it fell into the wrong hands, it could bring about the Apocalypse."

We were all silent for a good two minutes after that revelation. Then Mom broke the tension. "So, you're like a holy warrior?"

I actually snorted at that. "Hardly. I have bad habits. I don't go to confession nearly enough..."

"You sacrificed your immortal soul to save humanity."

When she said it that way, it sounded all self-sacrificing and noble. I really didn't think of myself that way. "It's part of the job."

She pursed her lips and then looked at Dad with hope and determination. He shrugged his shoulders deferring to her judgment.

"You'll stay here with us," she declared.

To say I was gobsmacked would be an understatement. "I..."

"I know you're not our real daughter, but... well, I think we lost her a long time ago." She was struggling for what to say, something that didn't sound awful coming from a mother who had just lost her only child. "It sounds bad, I know."

"I don't judge people like that, Mom."

A small smile rose on her face. "It would be like seeing her have a second chance."

I didn't know who was more delusional, me or her. I kind of understood her point of view. She'd given up on the original Gemma. Did that make her a bad mother? It would be idealistic to think so. However, I wasn't one to enforce my view of a perfect family upon her. It's very easy to look in from the outside and declare her an awful mother for not controlling her child, but she was the one who had lived with a drug addicted and disaffected teenager for years on end.

Part of me wanted to just run back to the BPRD and try to forget anything about them. Another part wanted to actually have a set of parents. My mother died when I was only six and my real father was so absorbed by his work that I wound up being raised by the people around me, those that worked for him. Living with the Saunders' was a second chance for me as well.

"I'll be keeping odd hours. You already know about some of the things I do."

Dad looked down at my belt laying on the floor. "How dangerous is your job?"

I peered at him with as much seriousness as I could muster. "Life and death, almost every day. And now, with this fairy business, it's only going to get worse, but I'll have an advantage that the others won't."

"What's that?" he asked.

"I'll show you tomorrow, if you want."

~O~

I slept through most of the night, this time, only waking at three in the morning to find Mom sitting on the couch with sleep tossed blonde hair and black bags under her eyes.

"Morning sweetie," she said upon my entrance. "Couldn't sleep?"

I shook my head and watched as she patted her lap. Sitting on the couch, I leaned over and lay my head on her legs. Mom's fingers immediately started threading through my hair. It was a comforting gesture that I'd never experienced. We were a sorry pair: a negligent mother and a... I really didn't know what I was. We were both looking for a second chance and there it was.

~O~

Dad woke us up with the smell of eggs, bacon, and biscuits cooking. It was a Saturday and conveniently he didn't have to go to work. Once we polished off the last of the breakfast it seemed like we were ready to face the real world.

Knowing something of what to expect at work, I dressed in a pair of the black leather pants, boots, and black pull over with three-quarter length sleeves. Mom, braided my hair and helped me with minimal makeup.

My supply belt was the hard part. It was way too long. For the time being, I just punched a new hole in the length so that it would serve and then tucked the extra length under and over so that about five extra inches hung down my left leg. It felt odd sitting there, higher than normal, over my hips. The holster for the .45 had to be moved to the front, in a cross draw position, otherwise it painfully dug into my side when I sat down.

I checked all the pockets to make sure all my protections, amulets, extra clips, and various other tools of the trade were present. Withdrawing the rosary that normally hung from one of the pouches, I crossed myself and kissed the cross saying a silent prayer for Gemma and giving her thanks for the use of her body.

Dad arched an eyebrow at me as he held the back door to the garage open for Mom and me. "You look dangerous."

I sighed and gave him a rueful grin. "You have no idea."

~O~

They were shocked when we pulled up to the Houston Astrodome parking lot. It was kind of funny.

"I thought they closed it down because of structural issues," commented Dad.

"That's the official story, yeah." Pointing to the west side ticket booth, I said, "Just park anywhere over there. About seven years ago we recognized an increase in activity in the area that was far beyond normal, we relocated the headquarters from Connecticut. New York City was the place to be for about fifty years, if you were an up and coming player, now it's here."

"Why the change," asked Mom.

I shrugged. "It happens. Places of power shift from major cities around the world. When my father originally started up the BPRD at the beginning of World War II, it was in London, before that, Istanbul, and before that, Hong Kong. Now it's Houston. I dread when it's L.A.'s turn."

Dad pulled up to the closest parking spot available. There were a couple of SUV's and a few civilian cars scattered about. Two security guards were on watch by the main gates behind the old ticket booth. They were eying me with something akin to curiosity mixed with disbelief. Working for the BPRD, you tend to see the weirdest stuff. A short girl decked out for trouble was tame in comparison.

Flashing my temporary pass that was in my supply belt, until I could arrange for more permanent ID, got us past the guard station and into the elevator that was just beyond the gates and to the left. There were two sub basements beyond the three that were already in the Astrodome. That's where the heart of the BPRD lay.

When the elevator doors opened Liz was already there waiting for us. "Security called and said you were on your way down."

Of course.

She nodded at Mom and Dad. "Good to see you again, Mister and Missus Saunders. The first stop is Security for your ID's."

We were photographed, fingerprinted, retina recorded, DNA sampled and aura read, all of which were documented in the local data base and imprinted on the official identification that I was presented. Mine was a duplicate of my previous ID except where obvious gender changes had occurred. It even held my previous status as Special Agent in Charge. I was really wondering if I'd be demoted because of my current age.

The Federal Government doesn't employ agents with my status below the age of thirty. Acquiring the experience needed to fulfill the requirements just isn't possible. However, I suppose there was always a loophole to leap through for every rule.

Mom and Dad were presented with simple permanent visitor status. they wouldn't be able to go anywhere without an escort, but they could still get inside without any hubbub.

Once we were processed Liz pulled me aside. "I'll give the nickel tour to your new family. You go meet with Abe. He's waiting outside your quarters."

I relayed the arrangements to Mom and Dad and then made tracks back to the elevator to sub-basement five. Living quarters, official offices, and the strategy room were located on S-5.

The more I saw of the place, the more it was cemented in my mind. A very large percentage of my memory had returned, it was the little bits and pieces that were driving me nuts. I'd spent the better part of the previous night trying to remember everything about the Thirteen Artifacts and the prophecy that pertained to me and the Thirteenth Artifact, but still held bupkis in the end. Pass codes to enter the deepest levels of the Pentagon, no problem, crap that actually pertained to me making a life altering decision, nada.

When I turned the final corner that led to my room, I saw Abe cross-armed and leaning against the wall next to my door.

"You could have waited inside," I said.

He shook his head. "Nobody's been in since you left it Tuesday night."

I pressed my hand against the sensor pad and punched in my security code before hearing the lock release.

Like the man said, it was exactly the same: a one bedroom apartment with a kitchenette, and office. Well it wasn't really an office. It was supposed to be a living room. Like my father before me, I was a workaholic.

"Make yourself at home."

I logged in to the computer and sent a request for the last three day's status reports before turning around and seeing Abe still standing there looking at me.

"What?"

He gave me the once over. "You're exactly the same."

I looked down at the boobs currently restrained inside a sports bra and covered by my black top. "I think I'll beg to differ on that one."

He rolled his eyes and strode toward the kitchenette, more specifically the medium sized refrigerator located therein. Pulling out two beers, he looked critically at me for a moment. "Are you even old enough to drink?"

I flipped him off. "Bite me."

I got my beer tossed at me for the gesture.

"What I'm getting at is that you don't act any different because of the..." He popped the top on his can and motioned toward my body.

"Because I'm a chick now?"

Abe shrugged.

I popped my own top and sipped at the opening before taking a long pull. At least my taste buds hadn't changed, thank god. "I woke up with no memory. I spent the better part of two days being a girl. While parts of it were unfamiliar, everything ran perfectly fine. I survived."

Turning the desk chair out I swiveled it around and sat down. "When I finally figured out I was once a guy, I felt so relieved that I wasn't going crazy that I didn't care. I knew I'd been killed and figured it was some messed up hoodoo that dropped me into Gemma Saunders' body in the freaking morgue. Seeing as how I was dead before, I'm kind of counting lucky stars and all."

During my explanation, Abe made himself comfortable on one of two armchairs I had for times just like this. "So, you're cool with being a girl then?"

I sighed then took another pull. "Not really. I was in great shape before and this body... I'm short and I can't lift crap for weight. It's going to take a lot of work to get back onto the street."

"You're SAC, new body or not. Doctor Broom made sure nobody could give you any shit before he died. You can push the issue if you want."

"And be responsible for not holding up my weight out there and getting you or Liz killed in the process?" I shook my head. "No thanks. I'm grounding myself until I can hold my own. Maybe six months. I'll do tech duties and observation until then to keep in the loop."

Abe smirked and finished his beer, crumpling the can afterward. "I find it very interesting that you're more worried about not being able to fight than you are about losing your balls."

I rolled my eyes and spun around to face the computer screen. "I don't need to be psychoanalyzed, Abe. Take it somewhere else."

You ever notice how psychoanalyze is spelled? If you were to break everything down into it's component parts it would mean crazy ass-fucker. Pardon me if I never felt like going down that particular road.

"That's avoidance I'm hearing, Red."

Opening the first folder of reports and enlarging it, I said, "My name is Gemma Saunders now."

TBC...