Sex: None. That's why it's so short.

Explanation: I'm making my way - albeit at a snail's pace - through the genres of fanfiction. This is my shot at offering another perspective to an episode. It was the perspective I thought the creators of the show overlooked. The perspective of the self-interested bureaucrat.

Creme Brulee: cremebrulee@myrealbox.com

So we're all standing here chained to this pillar. It's been ages, but we can't move. We can weave fate, true, but when it comes to magically wrought iron chains, we're out of tricks. And I don't mean to be unkind, but the maiden and the crone are getting on my last nerve strand. We can't get off of this pillar until someone frees us. This is a problem. As fates, it's our job to weave the tapestry that brings a certain rhyme and reason to the goings on around here. Without us, the shit hits the fan.

Just look at that mess. That pile of writhing, iridescent strands on the floor over there was once our magic and organized loom. Until some crazed escapee from downstairs got in here and decided he'd tie us up and screw with the basic fibre of humanity. It's no joke to mess with our loom. It's not like rearranging some index cards, it's a little more complicated than that. Otherwise, they wouldn't have put us in charge of it for a friggin' eon. And I can tell you the job's been a bitch. I've had to watch the same human's make the same damn mistakes, over and over and over again, but if they've got a blue thread, they go in the blue part and well then, there you have it...

I suppose you could argue, that we help them make those mistakes endlessly. But it's a living, I'm not complaining. And when you look at the employment opportunities for gods these days, they're not too promising. Xena's kind of skewed the market. She's probably getting it good now. Serves her right, she's always such a pain in the ass. Bursting in here with that smug, "Yeah, yeah, I already know the ending" look. Well you don't know squat now sister. Serves her right, copping an attitude with the Fates. Never a good idea.

I can't quite make out all of what's happening in the life strands of the tapestry from over here, but it looks like Caesar was successful in building his alternative timeline and getting Xena in it. Amateur. It'll never last. The way those life strands are melting and joining, he's going to have some nasty surprises before his little game comes tumbling down. Along with everything else.

What's that noise? Who's making that racket, storming in here? Another one! It's her! The bard. Ooh, I always liked her better. Knows how to show a little respect to her elders. Sweet kid, doesn't cop too much of an attitude unless the warrior's watching her.

She walks over and removes the lit torch from the sconce above our heads. Finally, a little help. But she doesn't pause to unchain us, she walks over to the loom, mumbling something. She sounds kind of peeved. Must be having another tiff with the warrior. What that woman puts her through - I'll never understand humans. It's now clear that the bard means to destroy the loom.

"Are you out of your freakin' mind?" I ask her.

She doesn't answer, but throws the torch into the frame and we stand helpless watching it catch fire and begin to implode. Man o man, I hate when this shit happens. Distressed humans are the worst. And that's about the only kind we deal with directly because by the time they've gotten through our security and made it to our weaving room, they've been through a lot.

Oh great, and now we've got do the transmogrification. I hate this part, it always gives me indigestion. The energy spindles are reaching out from the loom and wrapping around us. I hope the chains don't cause a problem here, because it'd be a real bitch if I get sucked through the links before I've fully vaporized.

I stand here rubbing my stomach. I get reflux every damn time from the pressure the change exerts on my abdomen. The crone and the maiden say you get used to it, but I can hardly imagine that's the case. They say that we can take a mental health day or two as the loom regenerates itself. I'm looking forward to messing with the bard's strand. Man has she got a couple of surprises in store for her. That damn warrior too. I'm sure that somehow this is her fault.

The Crone says that each time the loom regenerates, the strands are tight at first. It's like they're trying to return to the original order that they had before we started weaving them. I asked her what it was like before we started weaving, I can't remember. She says that the gods created the loom to make it easier to keep the humans conveniently preoccupied with their own lives and leave the governing of things up to us. We untangled the strands from the ungodly mess they were in and began to weave them. I wonder how this is going to work without the rest of the gods to supervise the process... No matter, I'm not going job hunting in this market. As long as the loom is here, I'll weave.