Trading Places

Before I get on to the fiction, I'd like to take a minute to thank all my wonderful reviewers.

Zatken: it's always nice to meet a fellow Pegasus fan. And you're right about Pegasus. (Even though I do love him..)

Sam: Um.. yeah, her name IS Cecilia in the English version, but I use Japanese character names. But I'm glad you like it.

Shannon: Well, as this is the second chapter, I believe I've answered your question. (Actually, if it hadn't been for people like you who wanted me to continue, it WOULD have been one-shot.)

Windswift: Once again, glad you liked it. And writing romance is . (The first draft of this chapter accidentally came out as a Yugi/Cyndia pairing. That's the last time I use Cyndia for my muse.)

Peggi: Go back and read Shannon's, cuz I'm too lazy to type that out again. And thankies right back for YOUR reviews.

Millennium Elf: Yeah, angst is fun, isn't it?

Sylvia/Lena (Even though you're not gonna read this version..): Well, chivalry has always been a trait I've associated with Pegasus. As for who that "guy" is, well, all shall be revealed. And yeah, she probably would have. And you're ever so welcome. ^^

Kabuki (Ditto on the even-though-you're not reading this version-thing): Nope, I'm not surprised at all. Actually, you have no idea what a huge fight my brother/beta-reader and I had about that stupid gun.. Getting back to something remotely resembling the topic, yeah, he would. I hope I have a boyfriend like him do I keep getting so off topic? Anyway, I can see him doing all that I'm glad he died happy, too, although Cyndia may not be granted that same luxury.

A huge thankies to everyone who reviewed! Oh, and the disclaimer still stands. Now, on to the fiction!


Cyndia Crawford stole quietly through the silent cemetery, a bouquet of roses held carefully so she wouldn't drop it. Though it was almost pitch- dark, as clouds hid the sliver that was the moon, and she carried no flashlight, she didn't stumble. How many times had she come this way? Before the mathematical part of her brain had quite figured it out, she stopped, almost automatically, in front of a headstone.

Cyndia knelt in front of the marker, laying her roses carefully beside her. Her now-free hands traced the words on the headstone, words she knew by heart:

In memory of Pegasus J. Crawford,
Loving Husband and aspiring artist
Died --

Today. Seven years ago today. Cyndia pressed her hand harder against the cold headstone to stop her fingers from trembling. Never-she'd come here so often through out the past seven years, ever since her husband had died, and often at night, as she had this time, but never had she felt so alone. Always before, when she had come to her husband's grave, Cyndia had . Not a ghost exactly. more like a presence. She'd felt her Peega-chan as if he were standing right next to her. But . She was truly alone.

As if with a will of it's own, her hand pushed itself away from the tombstone that had kept it's shudders in check and reached, with terrible steadiness, into the bouquet Cyndia had brought with her, ignoring the roses' thorns, and extracted a long, slim dagger.

"How-how did that get in there?" Although she was trembling violently, Cyndia held the dagger firmly by the hilt. She laid the blade gently against her chest.

"It would be so perfect.I'd die here, next to you. No one ever comes to this part of the cemetery, so I'd definitely be dead by the time anyone found seems so perfectly laid out, it's almost as if this was fated to happen.."

Cyndia twirled the dagger slowly in hands that shook no longer. The idea of suicide terrified her, but there was something fascinating about the way the dagger's blade caught even the faintest light from the almost-new moon. It didn't seem to be a weapon. Quite the contrary, as she ran a finger down one side of the blade, it felt warm and soft as a lover's touch. Cyndia didn't notice a tiny trickle of blood fall from her finger. She was mesmerized by the knife she held, as if it were the long-sought answer to the Sphinx's riddle.

o()o

Cyndia Pegasus was found dead the next morning, neatly laid out next to her husband's grave. She had apparently died from blood loss from a stab wound in her chest. The blade that delivered that blow was never found.

o()o

"Now do you regret your choice?"

"Yes, , God. Cyndia! I'm so sorry! How could I have driven you to that?" Pegasus J. Crawford was once again in standing in his tower room, pistol in hand.

"You did nothing wrong," the voice said, tainted with sadness, "and she did nothing you were not about to do."

"Yes, I suppose, but. I chose that! Idiot that I am, I thought I could cheat fate, trading my life for hers like that. But she died anyway, didn't she? Further proof that my life is worth nothing."

"Your life is worth more than you know, Pegasus. Why else would you have been given such a choice?"

God, he was going crazy. Talking to a disembodied voice! So he'd finally snapped. It wasn't that hard to believe, actually. He'd been teetering on the edge of the pit known as insanity for more than seven years. But, he reasoned, why not humor himself?

"Yes, I was given a choice. But not the one you speak of." Pegasus marveled that he could be so calm. He really must be crazy. He swallowed hard, then continued, "The choice I was given was between a painful death for my love or myself. Well, I choose myself."

Holding the pistol to his head, Pegasus pulled the trigger.

"Goodbye, Pegasus," the voice said, suddenly becoming much more feminine. It's source materialized for a moment, her arms cradling the fallen Pegasus. A lock of her blond hair fell across his face, and he opened his eye.

"Goodbye, Cyndia," he whispered hoarsely, before going limp in her arms.