Hi everyone :) Apologies for the delay. Crazy week. It's going to be crazy for another week, then I think it'll settle down a little. Thank god. I'm exhausted.

Anyhoo. Here's the third to last chapter.

Firstly, I want to apologize (fully tongue in cheek) to everyone for what's about to happen. :D

Nobody dies. Nobody gets hurt. Nothing like that. It's just... well, you'll see.

Thanks to everyone who's left a comment. They make my day, as always. Hope others will leave them, if they have a moment. I hope you're all well and that life is treating you right.

It's time to go back to Hell.

"My Queen," the impressively large, multi-limbed demon said before the throne, "I don't understand."

Mazikeen sat on the throne, her legs outstretched and crossed, her hand propped against her cheek.

She rolled her eyes.

"What don't you understand?"

"Why do I have to garden?" the demon asked, his eyes looking wetter than normal as his nictitating membranes swept over them.

Mazikeen stared at him for a moment, before pointing with the same hand in a general away direction.

"Because we have a garden."

"Yes, but-"

"A large garden."

"Yeah, I understand that but-"

"And you're large."

"I am, my Queen, and I thank you for your observation of my largeness, but-"

"And you've got like, what? Seven arms?"

"Eight, actually, but that last one only comes out when I'm excited."

Mazikeen looked a little less bored and bent forward, studying him. "Really?" She tapped her lips, her eyes growing even more interested as they wandered his dark, stony skin. "I'll need to check that out later."

"Yes, my Queen, so-"

"But anyway," she continued, sitting back again before sweeping his outline with her finger, "large demon, lots of limbs, perfect for a large garden, with lots of fruit. Go. Don't kill anything green. Pluck fruit." Her lips tugged back in a smirk. "And then later, perhaps... you can pluck other things."

The demon made an uncertain, concerned noise, then ducked its massive head, and turned to leave.

The turning itself took quite a few minutes as it shuffled back and forth in the space trying to clear its muscled bulk through the arching pillars. It finally crabwalked down the entire length of the walkway.

Mazikeen flopped back again.

The voices of the damned had diminished greatly since her best friend had swept so many souls away for reincarnation. Only a few thousand swam in her head now, and they were greatly softer, calmer, and generally happier than they had ever been.

And Mazikeen understood that she was the one who had made this happen.

She understood that the great changes across Hell were for the better.

But she was lonely.

Hell was growing strangely beautiful around her. Vines had started curling around the branching tines that arched like antlers around her throne, and flowers had bloomed, blood-red, above.

It was a little embarrassing.

She'd spoken to her mother, not really knowing if her landmass of a mom could hear her, asking if she could perhaps stop growing flowers on what was meant to be a wickedly imposing throne of Hell.

But they had turned briefly pink instead, and rather than argue further, she'd let it be, breaking the limbs of anyone who dared comment on the floral arrangement when they came to ask something of their Queen.

And there were soooo many questions.

"Why is the sky blue?"

"Why is the ground wet?"

"How far off was I with the whole East Indies route, anyway? It couldn't have been much! 500 miles? A thousand? You must tell me!"

Christopher hadn't been taken with the first batch of resurrectees and was being a whiny bitch about it, hanging around the throne room, asking every few months if God had been back by.

"No." Was her most common answer to him, for anything he asked.

It was tiring.

And lonely.

She kept the arena matches up though, as brief as they lasted, where she fought souls who truly felt up to the challenge or her brethren who were bored.

Many of her brethren were bored, which is why, if they weren't up for having their asses kicked in the arena, she was sending them out on garden duty.

Some hadn't really grasped the concept of what gardening meant. Many came back to proudly proclaim, while covered in the shredded remnants of leaves, bark and the pulpy mass of fruit and flowers, that they had laid waste to acres.

That they had taught those plants a lesson they were not likely to forget.

And that, while the lack of screaming had been a little unnerving, they did feel the plants were sufficiently punished, in the end.

It took a great deal of self-control for Mazikeen to not crack skulls with these morons and instead calmly explain that the plants didn't need to be punished, and that they were in fact laying waste to a part of their mother.

They were mostly horrified after that, which was almost as satisfying as a good skull cracking, and went on to perform the task with a little more care.

Leaving her sitting on her throne, alone, watching the strange clouds above, and the rising boughs of green, and what looked to be a bird soaring in the distance.

A falcon maybe?

She snorted.

Great.

"Mother, you are overdoing it."

But as it soared nearer her eyes narrowed.

And slowly she stood from her throne as her expression shifted to anger.

Then very quickly to shock.

As, with a rush of great tawny wings, the angel carrying Eve landed on the stone floor of the chamber before her.

The woman she'd loved so terribly, and had been so terribly hurt by, smiled at Maze with warm almond eyes as she lowered from the grasp of the angel - a woman Mazikeen hadn't seen before.

Eve wore a black dress - simple but incredibly sexy. She looked around herself, her mouth falling open in wonder.

Mazikeen couldn't seem to speak.

Eve stepped closer and finally gave her a blazing smile.

"Mazikeen, this is amaz-"

"I was ordered to bring Eve here by God."

Mazikeen dragged her eyes from Eve to stare at the angel. The woman's chin was tilted imperiously. She was clothed in leather garments in all shades of brown, with a chest piece decorated in twining metallic patterns. A silver spear poked up to the sky behind her.

"Great," Maze snapped. "Go away."

Eve drew even closer, pulling Maze's gaze back. She stood stiffly as Eve stretched out a hand to brush her cheek.

Those warm, familiar fingers made contact.

And she didn't know what to do.

Why was Eve here? What was the point of this?

This had ended, hadn't it?

This had hurt before... and she didn't want that hurt again...

"I heard what happened and had to come see," Eve said softly, her smile growing a little crooked in a way Maze had always loved. Her voice rose in excitement. "You're really the Que-"

Into their view stepped the angel, wedging herself between them.

"I was also ordered by God to fight you," she said, her eyes fixed on Mazikeen.

Eve frowned. "Remiel, um, we're catching up, can yo-"

Remiel shook her head, her gaze still fixed on Maze. "I cannot leave until I have fought the Queen of Hell."

Mazikeen stared back at her, curious.

She'd like the way that'd sounded. Not just because of the title, deserved and wonderful. But the way it had been said.

The angel's eyes were dark and a little sad.

That was interesting.

But even more interesting was the fact that Maze knew who this was now.

"You killed Lucifer," she said, her voice flat.

Remiel nodded, straightening.

"Yes, I caused his death. I seek no forgiveness for it. I was misg-ghk!"

The angel staggered back from Mazikeen's punch - a deadly blow to the throat. She seemed to catch the smallest telegraph of the move and shifted to lessen the momentum of the strike.

A seasoned warrior.

This would be fun.

"Um, could you two do this later?" Eve said, as Maze pushed roughly past her to finish what she'd started.

Remiel stepped further back, coughing and gasping as she pulled her spear out from behind her back and twirled it swiftly.

"Fancy," Mazikeen growled, pulling her own knives out and twirling them into play.

"You like a surprise attack," Remiel said, her voice rough. She straightened with the spear in both hands, crossed in front of her body.

Mazikeen watched the subtle shifts of the angel's arms and feet, waiting for the tells, hoping for a vulnerable spot when Remiel launched a thrusting attack.

But the angel's stance was impeccable. Every move was precise and measured.

"Doesn't everyone?" Maze eventually answered, circling to match the angel's movements, and fascinated by the look in Remiel's eye.

There was no emotional layer to this fight for the angel at all.

Michael had vanity. Amenadiel had righteousness. Lucifer had rage. Even Uriel had the need to prove himself.

There was nothing here but a warrior ready to fight.

She liked that.

A smiling Eve waved to her near the throne.

"Maze? I was hop-"

"No, I do not," Remiel said over her. "It is the attack of someone who expects to lose. Someone who knows that cheating is the only hope they have of landing a blow."

Mazikeen laughed.

"Yeah?" she said, twirling her knives again. "I think it's smart. And I like to take advantage of every opportunity."

With the word, she whipped her arm up, releasing her blade with the force of a bolt across the chamber at Remiel's head.

Remiel caught it as she twisted to her left, and without losing momentum, swung it right back.

Mazikeen snatched it from the air and flung it lower, hoping for the meat of Remiel's thigh.

But the angel deflected it a quick sweep of her spear, sending the blade skittering across the chamber floor.

Mazikeen straightened a little, looking back from her blade at the woman.

"Nice."

"Thank you," Remiel said, before launching forward with her spear, with no muscle twitch to broadcast the move at all.

Mazikeen dodged left, and swept around with her foot to catch Remiel as she passed, but the angel had already shifted, swinging back with the spear towards her head. Bending back to avoid it, Maze spun with another kick that the angel blocked, before cutting in with a strike meant to snap her knee.

But Maze flipped back and out of the way, landing ready for battle once more.

"Excellent," Remiel said, focused on her completely.

No gloating. No irritation. No calculating glare.

A warrior's sincere assessment.

Mazikeen smiled.

"Thanks."

Eve, looking a little frustrated, moved back towards the throne.

"Well, okay, I guess I'll just..."

She sat briefly and stroked the curved arms of the throne with a smile before jumping off with a screech.

The seat had sprouted thorns of stone.

Mazikeen used the distraction to fire another blade at Remiel - without looking, the angel shifted to avoid it, then followed through, launching her own spear.

Twisting, Maze plucked the wood staff from the air and turned to face Remiel, twirling the spear between her hands.

"Great balance," she said, before sweeping the spear behind her and readying for another round.

The smallest flicker of surprise touched Remiel's brow.

"What?" Maze asked with a smirk, seeing it, before she crossed the room to attack, the blades of the spear cutting through the air with an audible hum.

Eve sank crosslegged on the floor, her chin propped on her hand, her elbow on her knee.

"I just want-"

"You wield that very well," Remiel said, interrupting Eve yet again, as she dodged Mazikeen's every sweep and thrust. "Not many can do the weapon justice. Many," she ducked and lashed out with a strike with the flat of her hand that Maze blocked, "see it as too unwieldy."

Mazikeen whirled and spun, feeling the weapon's beautiful balance, the tug and flow of the wood against her hand, as Remiel met her every strike and thrust with a deflection and return of her own that Maze leapt and swept and twirled from.

And her smile grew brilliant - this was a dance, and it'd been so long since she'd danced with someone in this way. Violently and beautifully, with no restriction, no limit, no expectation.

Just the gloriously wild rush of battle with an opponent who matched her perfectly.

The angel's sadness was gone. Her eyes were bright, her mouth stretching in her own smile as she ducked and spun and struck.

And Mazikeen laughed.

With unrestrained joy.

"Hey," Eve said quietly, from somewhere.

"You are exceptional!" Remiel cried, as the dance grew more frenzied and wild.

Her laugh joined Maze's as every blow was met by the other, transformed and transmuted and returned with a passion that grew beyond the bounds of the fight.

And Mazikeen felt the strangest thing, every time she caught Remiel's eye and twirled and dodged and met it again.

As something wounded and closed inside slowly began to open.

"You are beautiful," she said back in one moment of meeting, in a voice just above a whisper.

And they parted with that abruptly, the dance complete.

The spear lowered in Remiel's grasp. The weapon had passed between them too often to count.

And the angel stared at her in shock.

"What?" Remiel said, her chest heaving, her skin wet. Her full lips were parted softly in question.

The small wounded thing in Mazikeen began to close again.

What was she thinking?

She had forgotten how to be smart, and sharp, and safe!

"I..." she started, then quickly shook her head, walking over to retrieve one of her knives. "Nevermind, I just enjoyed-"

The spear clattered to the ground, steps followed behind her, and Maze twisted to stave off a new attack.

But Remiel's hand caught her arm and the blade held there, and she stood silently for a long moment, her dark eyes searching Mazikeen's own.

"You said that I was beautiful," she said finally, her hand warm and firm against Maze's skin.

Mazikeen stared back, her eyes wide and wary.

Then she gave a half-laugh - something to dismiss the moment, to retreat. "I was only-"

"You are glorious," Remiel said, her voice softening with awe, her eyes still seeking something in Maze's gaze. "I never imagined..."

Tears swam in Mazikeen's eyes, as something small and fragile within heard those words... and their truth in the one who'd spoken them.

"I..." she whispered, shifting slightly back. Unsure. Unprepared.

And with a fierce light in her eyes, Remiel pursued, her hand shifting to cradle Mazikeen's cheek, as her other rested firmly and possessively over the demon's heart.

The hand blazed against Mazikeen's skin as she watched Remiel closing the distance for a kiss, dumbstruck.

Soft lips engulfed her own.

And the touch was a song of fire that burned through her body and the bright shimmering fabric of her new soul.

With a gasp, she pulled back, her eyes wide and blinking, her skin sparking.

"Wow," she whispered.

And grinning, Remiel kissed her again.

...

Eve was cursing as she stumbled through the thick undergrowth of Hell's new garden, smacking branches aside with the broken shoes in her hand.

She had no idea where she was, and had no idea how to get back, and she was pretty sure something weird was going on between Remiel and the hot demon babe she was trying to make up with!

She stopped, and stood, staring up into the leafy canopy above, trying to figure out the position of the sun.

Because that's how she used to find her way, ages and ages and ages and ages ago. North, east, south, west. They used different words back then, but the idea was the same. The sun would tell you what to do.

And now she had no idea what to do.

The idea of being a queen's queen had been exciting! She'd prayed to God for an escort down to Hell when she'd found out from her son, who'd just snuck out of Hell in someone else's dead body, and her creator had obligingly sent the stiffest angel in existence, Remiel, as her guide.

No talk on the trip, no smiling. No nothing. Remiel was sad about something, and Eve tried to coax it out of her, but the angel stayed mute.

So boring.

But it had been so good to see Mazikeen again. The demon was still so sexy, and even sexier in front of that throne! How amazing! A demon ruling Hell!

She'd been ready to jump Maze, and make up for the pain she'd caused. Pain that was still so clear on Maze's face.

Then mute Remiel stopped being so mute.

And she started to see something as they fought, as Mazikeen focused so totally on the angel and they did all of these cool things trying to hit each other.

When she started realizing something was happening, that she was going to lose her chance if she didn't do something soon, the chamber did something weird.

The floor rose up, blocking her view of the fight, and the weirdly hot sweaty chemistry thing going on between Remiel and Maze.

She tried to move around it, and it widened.

She called out to Maze a few times as it started moving towards her, forcing her back towards the end of the chamber.

Where a hole opened up, and, with a quick ripple of the floor, she was tossed through.

To tumble down the side of a forested hill.

And aside from being a little painful - it was confusing!

Because she was sure Hell wasn't supposed to be green.

It was a very familiar shade of green too. Very new. Very primordial.

Very... Eden-ish.

No matter where she turned, nothing looked familiar, and yet, it was like being back at the beginning of things, and any moment Adam was going to poke his head out from behind some tree and show her a new rock he'd found.

"Great rock, sweetie," she'd say, in a language that wasn't quite that sophisticated.

And off he'd go to play with it for a while as she rolled her eyes, and went looking for the dark-haired hottie who'd appeared once or twice, grinning at her from the shadows.

He knew how to have fun.

Blowing a straggly strand of leaf-encrusted hair from her face, Eve stomped onward, hoping to find some way to get back to the chamber, and back to Maze, and back to a good time.

But instead, the thick forest parted, opening up to a wide meadow of smaller trees bearing fruits of shapes and colors she'd never seen before.

"Ooh!" she said, smiling. "Pretty!"

She was hungry too. Wouldn't hurt to eat one, surely?

As she pulled one with firm blue flesh from the nearest tree, movement caught her eye, followed by a deep grunt.

She stepped forward, watching as the moving shape resolved into the dark figure of a enormous demon, his brows furrowed with effort over eyes of gold, his back muscles rippling under skin that looked almost stone-like, as his arms worked tirelessly, sweeping under and around and over branches to pluck every fruit in sight.

She smiled and stepped closer.

"Hello," she said brightly, with a little wave, one hand still holding the blue fruit.

The demon jerked back, his gold eyes widening, his thick lips pulling back in confusion from jagged teeth.

Then he straightened, looming over her, as his arms slowly lowered by his side.

She counted them in admiration.

"You have seven arms, wow. I've never met anyone with more than two."

The demon tilted his head to look at her, as his mouth seemed to stretch into a smile.

"Hello, human," he said, in a deeply resonant voice.

"You're working here?" she said, gesturing to the trees around them.

With a great rise and fall of his massive chest, he nodded. "I am... gardening."

Eve watched a small rivulet of sweat slide down his dark skin, slipping between some very nicely defined muscles and disappearing as it met the leather swaddling his groin.

A very large groin.

And she smiled.

Because maybe she would have some fun here after all.

Stepping forward with lowering eyes, she reached out to brush the hard skin of his arm.

"A demon gardener?" she said, her smile turning crooked. "I like the way that sounds."

And as the massive man stared down at her with a widening gaze and a goofy grin, something happened that made Eve gasp and clap her hands with glee.

"You have an eighth arm!"