The Woman Knows

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters associated with Betelgeuse or the movie about him. I own Cornelius and this plot, the rest is the creation of Mr. Burton. I am making no money from these writings (and losing much sleep).

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Still not the brain eating story. This story is for Llew: she wanted more Juno –shuffles papers- in chapter nine of Pieces and this is what happened. (Also, thanks to Shelly who listens to me whine and tries to keep me sane-ish.) Please enjoy.

Part 1 of 3

Juno had not always been in charge. Actually she had never been. During her living life she had been a doormat that everyone trod heavily upon and paid little attention. Upon her death all that changed. Before she died she was a meek little woman that jumped at her own shadow, but then Death and Fate decided to throw her a curveball. This is her phoenix tale.

After taking her own life she had found herself whirled away to a dingy office brimming with papers. Across the desk from her sat a man worn thin by life and haggard from a long career. The most interesting thing about this man was his flair for fashion; he had turned his hand wrapped death noose into a necktie complete with tie tack. He smiled warmly at her and she realized that she had been staring.

"Juno," he said cheerfully, "Juno, Juno, Juno. You don't know how happy I am to see you. I've waited so long for you to arrive!"

"W-w-waited? H-how did you know I was coming? Who are you? And where am I?"

She began to fidget and looked as if at any moment she'd be pulled apart by her own nervous movements.

"Calm yourself Juno. I am Cornelius, but that's not very important. As to your location and our meeting here, you will Know soon enough. I Knew you were coming because that is my job. Well, my job for the next little while and then it will be yours. But I'm getting ahead of myself."

"J-job? I don't want a job! I just wanted to be gone."

Cornelius looked sympathetic, even though his mottled skin made him seem a bit ghoulish, but it did not comfort her. Why would he feel sympathy for her unless this job was terrible?

"Oh dear, no one wants this job. Actually I've never known anyone that was even aware of this job. But it's yours now just as it was mine when I arrived. At least you can understand me; the gentleman I replaced had this crazy way of phrasing everything into a question. I think he was some sort of Greek philosopher or some such. In any case, it's time for me to move on to the Next and for you to fill my shoes."

"The next what? I don't understand! And what is this job?"

He smiled enigmatically and rose from his seat to stand beside her with his hand patting her shoulder. She felt a trickle of unease at his nearness, but wanted to be reassured more than she wanted to listen to her instincts.

"My dear, I can't tell you about the job, but the Next is what I call what comes after this place when a person moves on from it. Now don't be alarmed, but I'm about to give you your job training. It might hurt a bit."

He placed his hands on (or maybe in) her temples and then she experienced pain like nothing she had ever felt before. Blessedly she fell almost immediately into the welcome black on unconsciousness.

Part 1 of 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: So whaddaya think? Like it? Hate it? Want me to go back to finishing Pieces? Feedback is hugged, squee-d over, and the reviewer becomes my favorite person.