Heaven's Gates

Disclaimer: Same as Chapter One

Author's Note: I know, it's been forever and a day. Sorry about the wait. :scratches back of head: Um, can't promise it won't happen again, but I'll try to keep it to a minimum. Also, HELP. I think I'm losing inspiration for this story. Can anyone help me out here?

Thank you to my lovely reviewers. I appreciate your support. For all you guys who read HG on Mediaminer…I have been unable to comprehend the immense complexity that is Mediaminer, and it's getting rather tedious. I'm thinking about pulling my fics off that site. (Then again, if I ever get too "mature" for eff-eff-dot-net, where will I go…? LOL) Anyways, thanks bunches!

Personal thank you to my brand-new beta, Araanaz. God, girl, I really love you! 'Course, now you'll have to put up with my crazy-ass stunts and lazy-ass excuses…AND THUS, THE HELLION IS UNLEASHED! BWAHAHAHAHA…Ahem. On with the show…

Chapter Five—Crisis Passed

"And so then the Reality is subversive—it begins to, for lack of a better phrase, unravel from the inside out. When all the structures that acted as the Pillars of Reason are undermined, there is no support, you see? And so, based solely on this illogic, there is no structure. The result would be the same as if you balanced a dictionary on upright sharpened pencils—knock over a Pillar and the Reality—the dictionary—crumbles. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"…Wait—go back to that 'flexing Realities' part."

Eriol blinked at Tomoyo for a moment, then sighed. "Tomoyo-san, that was about ten minutes ago."

Tomoyo simply beamed at him innocently.

Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, Eriol shook his head. "Why didn't you stop me before I continued onto quantitative chaos ratios and subversive Realities?"

Tilting her head to one side, Tomoyo fluttered her eyelashes. "You looked so earnest and…scholarly when you were preaching—"

"Lecturing," corrected Eriol with a wince.

"—on your magical theory…Why, I simply couldn't bear to stop you!" Tomoyo cooed, and ducked half-heartedly when Eriol threw a paper ball at her. She stared at the crumpled ball on her lap with bemusement.

"Where did you get this?"

"A leftover from that evening you and Nakuru started the Trans-Mansion Wars," Eriol said dryly. "You remember—when you each built an arsenal of paper balls and subsequently stampeded around the entire house throwing them at each other and yelling, 'Defense zone! No point!' and 'Loss of right leg from knee downward! Ten bonus points!' I could never figure out," he mused, "how your limbs managed to spontaneously regenerate, seeing as you lost your left foot twice, half your ribcage four times, and your head once. And Nakuru's bodily injuries were exponential."

"I have excellent aim," Tomoyo said proudly. Eriol studied her with half-lidded eyes and curved lips.

"Do you know," he said after a moment, "that of all the people I know, I would have believed it least likely that you would be the one to encourage Nakuru's tendency to generate domestic upheaval." He shook his head at her blank look. "It's rather amazing that you agreed to troop around the house like you were playing hide and seek."

She ducked her head sheepishly. "I suppose it was rather juvenile…"

"A word," Eriol announced fondly, "that Nakuru defines completely, part of speech and all. I thought it was cute," he added, and hid a smile when Tomoyo fidgeted slightly. "Plus, your war seems to have miraculously stimulated Nakuru's geographical and historical knowledge. When the sitting room was declared the Soviet Union, and Nakuru tried to get Spinel to be Stalin, I was quite impressed."

Tomoyo paused. "That reminds me," she muttered, "she cheated when she claimed the kitchen was the Neutrality Zone."

Eriol frowned. "I thought he said it was Switzerland."

"Same thing."

"Ah. That's right."

"Anyway," Tomoyo continued, "she kept saying that the kitchen was Switzerland, when I distinctly remember us agreeing that it was the garden and/or the upstairs bathroom. The kitchen was…Italy? Yes, because by that time, Spinel-san had moved to the light fixture over the sink and Nakuru-chan asked him to be Mussolini, too." She pursed her lips in concentration. "It was definitely not Switzerland, I know that much."

"The war is over, Tomoyo-san," Eriol laughed, marveling at how well the pout on her lips suited the gentle curve of her jaw line. "Why worry over territory and neutrality now?"

Tomoyo scowled. "I lost, that's why."

Eriol tried—he really did—but in the end the grin escaped. "It fits, then. You're Japanese, aren't you?" The paper ball struck him squarely on the nose as he chuckled.

"Ha. Not. Now, back to your flexing Reality spiel," Tomoyo reminded him with a glare.

With an exaggerated sigh, Eriol steepled his fingers and fixed her with his best professorial grimace, intoning gravely, "The concept of flexing Reality—"

"Why is it just a concept? Hasn't it been proven by the very existence of abnormality—that is, magic itself?" Tomoyo pressed.

Eriol held up a finger. "Ah, but you're forgetting, Tomoyo-san, that there can be abnormality without what we term 'magic'. This is—"

"Natural abnormality, yes, I know, you told me, but you never explained it to me, Eriol-kun," she reminded him pointedly.

"Ah, well, I'm sorry. I forget that you haven't been schooled in these principles and premises as I have."

Tomoyo pretended to scowl. "Oh, all right. Just wave your rich and textured education in front of my poor, underprivileged nose."

It was only a moment, but when their eyes met, they both burst into peals of laughter.

"I would say," Eriol said seriously, "that my education is just as…colorful as it is textured."

Tomoyo smiled. "A collage of knowledge?"

Eriol grimaced at her. "And a poor attempt at being witty." Tomoyo stuck her tongue out at him good-naturedly. He went on, "Let's see, where was I? Oh, right. A 'natural abnormality' is a paradox, as you can tell. But even within its own definition, a natural abnormality is a spectrum in and of itself. Something that cannot be explained simply by observation without experimentation, inference without conference. It can be as simple as a rainbow, and as complex as the afterlife."

Tomoyo blinked. "The afterlife? You mean, ghosts and supernatural beings?"

"Supernatural does not necessarily mean spectral, Tomoyo-san. Supernatural can be lycanthropes, the fae, magicians—" He smiled at her. "Anything that is not natural, Q.E.D. However, afterlife is, yes, anything that transcends death. Ghosts in particular, but extending to lingering energies or wandering souls."

"So a ghost isn't simply a soul that hasn't moved on?"

Eriol laughed. "No, of course not."

"Of course," mumbled Tomoyo.

"A ghost is a manifestation of life energy that attaches itself to a familiar area—thus, a 'haunting.' All souls move on, Tomoyo-san," Eriol said quietly, suddenly leaning forward to look at her with a blazing intensity. "It is important to realize this. No matter the being, no matter the crimes or the innocence—all souls ascend to another plane of existence once their source of life energy is extinguished."

She looked at him for a moment, then stared at her hands in her lap. "And…a ghost?"

Eriol was silent for another second, but sat back. "If the individual's life energy contains enough power—what is termed 'alien abnormality', or magic—then the energy takes a semi-corporeal form."

"So alien abnormality is…is what Sakura-chan, Li-kun, and you have."

"Yes. This alien abnormality follows no exacting and inflexible policies, no rules that are absolute. Magic is, and that is the best explanation for it."

Tomoyo finally let her eyes meet his again. "I think I understand that part. Whereas natural abnormality can eventually be explained scientifically, magic has no earthly limitations, and so no logical justification for existence."

"Precisely," Eriol nodded approvingly. "You've witnessed this firsthand—Sakura-san's manipulation of the elements and physics with her Sakura Cards, Xiao Lang's use of ofuda to call upon his own elemental energies…"

"Your creation of Nakuru-chan and Spinel-san," Tomoyo added. "That's manipulation of nature, isn't it? The alteration—or in this case, removal entirely of the standard birthing process." She watched his expression. "You created them of the elements, of this alien abnormality, of yourself—and they manifest themselves according to all these things."

This time, surprise showed clearly upon Eriol's face. "Why—yes. Yes, you're correct." He stared at her, thoroughly taken aback and intrigued at her thinking process.

"There is something I don't understand," Tomoyo went on thoughtfully, to all purposes ignoring Eriol's renewed regard for her. "The existence of this alien abnormality—its effect upon the natural state of the world—"

"Ah yes…That is where flexing Realities comes into greater focus. With the physical manifestations of magic inhabiting this Reality—our daily lives, our surroundings, our thoughts, our emotions, our logic and irrationality, our humanity in other words—there are bound to be some ramifications on the Reality itself. Now, remember the dictionary-on-pencils I was talking about?"

Tomoyo nodded.

"Presumably, a gust of wind would easily alter the support of the dictionary, knocking over one of the pencils, right? Well, imagine a single flutter of a butterfly's wing, from over a foot away. What if that was to have the exact same effect?"

"Impossible," Tomoyo countered. "There wouldn't be enough force from the wing to generate the energy needed to collapse the dictionary."

Eriol grinned. "You would think. Such a small action couldn't possibly be in the real world. The dictionary is too heavy for such a small thing to disturb its support, even as fragile and precarious as it is. But that is magic, Tomoyo-san—the brush of a butterfly's wing against Reality."

Tomoyo caught her breath. "That's rather…poetic, Eriol-kun."

"And so very true, Tomoyo-san."

She shook her head, faintly astounded. "Well, now that I've heard your rather Shakespearian view on all things alien and abnormal—" She grinned. "Can you please explain flexing Realities?"

Eriol stared at her for a moment, then laughed lightly. "Of course. Back to our original topic…You really must stop distracting me so, Tomoyo-san." He pretended to scold her with a fierce glare.

"I? What on Earth have I done?" Tomoyo fluttered her lashes at him.

Actually, what I meant was, 'You look so devastatingly beautiful right now I'm finding it hard not to lean over and simply devour you, much less concentrate on the words coming out of my mouth.' Eriol tilted his head, suppressing a wince at the track his thoughts were taking.

"You talk far too much," he informed her grandly. Tomoyo pressed a hand to her heart and closed her eyes with a wounded expression, and he laughed again.

"Alas," she murmured. "What cold, cruel, harsh—"

"Truth," supplied Eriol, and made Tomoyo laugh along with him.

"You," she accused him, "are stalling."

"I?" He imitated her indignant tone.

"You. How am I supposed to know whether you really know what you're talking about if all you do is make jokes and insult innocent ladies like myself?"

Eriol scoffed. "Innocent? I beg to differ. You, my lady, are at the very least as devious and cunning as…well, myself," he admitted.

Tomoyo pretended to scowl. "Are you suggesting, good sir, that my motives are less than pure? That somehow I am continuing this line of questioning, which has succeeded in confusing me beyond all human comprehension, simply for benefits which have less to do with knowledge than with ulterior incentive?"

Eriol eyed her owlishly. "Is that how you managed to make Sakura-san allow you to dress her up and videotape her at any and every random moment for the past fifteen years? By rebutting all protest with the skill of a seasoned prosecuting attorney? Or by sounding like a thesaurus on a caffeine high?"

"Why, Eriol-kun, I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about. Again."

"That's nothing new," remarked a dry voice. "We've all had to suffer that particular quandary sometimes." Spinel floated into view. "The door was open, and you didn't seem to be discussing academia," he offered by way of explanation.

"Good afternoon, Spinel-san," Tomoyo greeted the cat, who immediately settled himself in her lap.

"Hello, Spinel," added Eriol, torn between amusement at his cat's obvious growing fondness for their housemate and surprise that Spinel was showing such affection so blatantly.

The magical creature inclined his head solemnly. "Good afternoon to you as well, Tomoyo-kun, and you, Master."

After some serious debate and several minor, if rather humorous, food fights (during which, miraculously, Nakuru had been discouraged from stuffing Spinel from tail to nose with sugar), Tomoyo and the two magical creations had reached an agreement as to the honorifics they would use when addressing each other. Nakuru remained adamant on 'Suppi-chan' despite all protest from the concerned party. In retaliation, Spinel had lobbied hard to be allowed the right to call Nakuru 'idiot-boy'. Nakuru had shrieked denial that he was a boy ("Just because I'm not a girl doesn't mean I'm automatically a stupid boy—SUP-PI-CHAN!") and thrown a tantrum until Eriol finally wandered into the study, claimed a chair for himself, and cheerfully announced his intent to shred every single sheet of Nakuru's custom-ordered Fruits Basket™ Zodiac Animals stationery if he didn't lower his voice by several hundred decibels. After the moon guardian had promised fervently to behave himself, Tomoyo and Spinel had civilly agreed to call each other 'Tomoyo-kun' and 'Spinel-san.' Tomoyo had at last given in to Nakuru's insistence and now referred to him as 'Nakuru-chan.' Spinel, for his part, had graciously conceded to calling Nakuru 'idiot' without specification of gender.

Nakuru, however, while expertly ignoring his counterpart's subtle mockery, was dissatisfied with 'Tomoyo-kun' ("It somehow…doesn't sparkle the way it should…") and had deliberated almost painfully between 'Tomoyo-chan' and 'Tomo-chan.' When questioned as to her preference, Tomoyo had confessed that she didn't mind either way, and had subsequently resigned herself to responding to 'Tomo-chan' whenever Nakuru addressed her.

Eriol, for his part, wisely decided to stick with 'Tomoyo-san', though he did jokingly call her 'Tomoyo-dono' once or twice during the conversation. When Tomoyo had sweetly offered to give him a cross-shaped scar on his cheek to go with his newfound temperament, he had subsided without argument. :See author's note:

Tomoyo smiled softly to herself as she stroked back the fur along Spinel's spine. He let out a low-pitched rumble of approval that she thought might have been a purr of contentment.

"What were we talking about?" she murmured to Eriol.

He lifted a brow. "Flexing Realities."

"Ah, that's right." She smiled up at the ceiling for another moment, then cheerfully confessed, "I don't really care anymore."

Eriol let out a half-laugh. "I somehow had the feeling you were losing focus."

"I enjoy the existence of the magical and inexplicable without the technical reasoning behind it," Tomoyo retorted. "Rather like a child who believes when adults say the sky is blue 'just because', or that the tooth fairy will exchange teeth for money. The wonder of it is so much better that way."

"I agree," Eriol said softly. "Sometimes, the thing that I regret the most about my heritage from Clow Reed is…knowing everything."

Tomoyo couldn't help giggling. "That sounded so conceited and long-suffering at the same time."

"It's a talent of mine," Eriol said grandly. From his half-doze on Tomoyo's lap, Spinel gave a disbelieving snort.

"Facetious beast," Eriol accused him. Spinel snorted again and returned to sleep.

"The indignities I suffer," Eriol muttered, but resumed his explanation. "No, what I mean is that, like you say you enjoy the mystery of magic, I am deprived of those mysteries simply because I know how everything works. Like looking at a blender and knowing how to make a smoothie with a minimum of fuss and disaster."

Tomoyo paused. "Why do I get the feeling you're thinking of Nakuru-chan?"

"Because he, for example, despite his ability to operate that hypothetical blender, is somehow bizarrely and consistently seized with the urge to ponder, 'What does this button do?' and subsequently destroy the kitchen in his…academic experimentation."

Eriol's scowl and sullen explanation left Tomoyo almost bent double in her chair over Spinel's motionless form, her shoulders shaking.

"Past…experience?" Tomoyo gasped. Eriol rolled his eyes.

"Those who say history never repeats itself have never met Nakuru on a day when he's been seized with the craving for a strawberry-kiwi-banana-cherry smoothie," he told Tomoyo darkly.

While Tomoyo was busy stifling her laughter, Nakuru chose that moment to bound into the room. "Did I hear someone promise to make me a strawberry-kiwi-banana-cherry smoothie?" he trilled excitedly.

Tomoyo's eyes sparkled, Eriol's closed in resignation, and Spinel's narrowed in accusation upon his master. "Your fault this time," he said primly, before miraculously, to all appearances, going right back to sleep.

"YAY!" Nakuru cheered. "Eriol-daioh's going to make me a smoothie!"

"Ruby Moon, what have I said about making assumptions? Or listening to other people's conversations? Or calling me Eriol-daioh?"

Nakuru beamed at him. "Don't ever, ever do it again," he recited in a sing-song tone. Tomoyo grinned at the faint irritation in Eriol's expression. I hadn't known Eriol-kun could­ get irritated. Aloud, she offered, "Nakuru-chan? Why don't you take me down to the kitchen and tell me how to make this…smoothie of yours? That way I can learn how."

The look Eriol (and Spinel, when he stirred from his slumber momentarily) gave her was filled with adoration and gratitude. She simply smiled as Nakuru proceeded to bounce out the room as exuberantly as he'd entered, crying at the top of his lungs, "YAY! TOMO-CHAN'S THE BEST EVER! COME ON, TOMO-CHAN, LET'S GO, LET'S GO!"

While Nakuru's voice echoed down the hallway, Eriol said to Tomoyo, "You don't have to do this."

"Oh, no, I assure you it's quite all right," Tomoyo said, gently handing the once-again unconscious Spinel to Eriol. "I, after all, am a master at using blenders." At the doorway, she paused, and looked back with a grin. "Provided they are corporeal and not hypothetical." Eriol's soft, amused laughter followed her down the hallway.

Spinel opened his eyes momentarily; apparently, the shift in pillow-matter had awakened him after all. "You spoil her shamelessly," he accused his master.

"Which one?"

Spinel scoffed. "Seeing as only one of them is a 'her', I am fully aware that you know which one I'm talking about."

Eriol lifted an eyebrow as he idly stroked a hand down the magical cat's spine. "Do I spoil her?" he wondered aloud.

"Always giving in to her every whim. Much as you do that idiot, and oddly enough, Tomoyo-kun happens to be spoiling him in exactly the same way you are spoiling them both."

"I do not give in to her every whim," denied Eriol, frowning. He didn't bother denying that he did indulge Ruby Moon a bit more than necessary.

His creation snorted derisively. "You backed down almost immediately when she insisted on calling that idiot by female pronouns, even though he is technically genderless."

"I did not back down," Eriol protested. "Tomoyo-san and I simply agreed to disagree. She refers to Ruby Moon as female, while I—and you, for that matter—think of Ruby Moon as male. It is a matter of opinion, and neither she nor Ruby Moon seems to mind in the least. He at least responds to both sets of pronouns, whereas if I were to argue in the same vein that you are genderless, and tried to label you a female in any way, you would refuse to speak to me for an entire month simply out of spite regardless ofthe gender by which I addressed you."

"The principle of the matter," Spinel said pragmatically, ignoring his master's triumphant look and not deigning to reply in the negative to the accusations, "is that you didn't even argue with her on the subject. You let her do as she pleases."

"That is simply ridiculous. As a matter of fact, arguing with Tomoyo-san is one of my favorite activities. She has an interesting outlook on many things that most people would never even consider."

Spinel looked nonplussed. "And of course you only argue with her for her…outlook." He smirked as Eriol flushed faintly. "And not at all for any other sort of look."

"I do not approve of your implications, Spinel Sun," his master said severely. The overall effect was spoiled by the hint of red in his cheeks. The cat only shook his head and flicked his tail absently.

"I do apologize for my impudence, Eriol-sama," he remarked gravely. Though he could tell Eriol wasn't buying it for a moment, the magician nodded once. There was silence between them for a few moments. It was broken by voices calling up the stairs.

"ERIOL-DAIOOOOOOOH!"

Eriol merely closed his eyes and did not bother answering.

"ERIOL-DAIOOOOOH! HELLOOOOOO!"

"I don't think he's going to answer you, Nakuru-chan…"

"Maybe he can't hear me."

"Nakuru-chan, I'm sure every deaf person in Australia heard you." At Tomoyo's dry assurance, Eriol opened his eyes and grinned at nothing in particular. Spinel watched him with narrowed eyes as they heard Tomoyo continue thoughtfully, "Maybe he's not answering you because you're calling him 'Eriol-daioh' again."

There was a pause as Nakuru apparently contemplated this.

"Nah. He really likes it when I call him that," he explained earnestly. "It makes him feel important, so I pretend he is."

"Oh. I see." There was no mistaking the smile in Tomoyo's voice. "Of course. How very kind of you, Nakuru-chan."

"I know," replied Nakuru smugly. "But he tries to act like he's humble, and won't let me do it in front of other people. Maybe you should try."

"All right," Tomoyo agreed easily. Her voice lifted, the dulcet tones echoing in the stairwell and hallway. "Eriol-kun?"

Eriol smiled before replying at once, "Yes, Tomoyo-san?"

Over Nakuru's furious interjections ("WHAT? HOW DARE HE IGNORE ME LIKE THAT? THAT'S SO MEAN, ERIOL-DAIOOOOH!"), Tomoyo laughed and called, "We seem to have run into a small problem."

"And what is that, may I ask?"

"You no longer own a blender, apparently."

Eriol paused, then laughed. "That's right. I forgot. The last time Nakuru made his cursed smoothies, he ended up getting strawberries on the ceiling."

Tomoyo's laughter echoed off the walls. "How in the world did you do that, Nakuru-chan?" he heard her say to Nakuru incredulously.

Eriol shook his head. "It remains a mystery, Tomoyo-san—mostly because he refuses to admit it was his fault."

"It wasn't," Nakuru interjected primly.

"And after I discovered remnants of banana underneath the cabinets, I decided the simplest solution to the problem would be to dispose of the source of the problem at once."

"Unfortunately," added Spinel, loud enough for Tomoyo and Nakuru to hear, "in these troubled times such a thing is called homicide and is rather frowned upon in society. So he threw out the blender instead."

There was a period of silence while the others digested this statement. Then three things happened at once.

Eriol began to laugh.

Tomoyo began to laugh.

Nakuru began to shout.

"Spinel, did you just make a joke?" Eriol said incredulously, while Nakuru yelled about 'unfair' and 'so mean' and 'gonna slip you sugar pills every day for a week, Suppi-chan'. Tomoyo, still chuckling, tried to calm down the irate Moon Guardian.

Spinel gave the feline equivalent of a shrug. Eriol shook his head and stood, cradling the cat in the crook of one arm. "We'd better see about alternative methods to making smoothies, hadn't we?" he murmured to his Sun Guardian.

"Only if I am not sanctioned to be 'taste-tester' again," Spinel sniffed indignantly. Eriol grinned and proceeded downstairs. Suddenly, strawberry-kiwi-banana-cherry smoothies sounded incredibly appealing.

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Hello, loyal readers. And again, sorry for the long wait between updates. I'm sort of swamped with school work right now, and my mom's starting this new business selling accessories like jewelry and purses and shoes and…stuff. She has appointed me her personal slave—I mean assistant. So I am the one boxing up the jewelry, labeling the prices, and selling samples at school. Sigh. My commission sucks, too. Oh well.

:The reference I made here was to Rurouni Kenshin, with Kenshin always calling Kaoru by the respectfully polite title 'Kaoru-dono'. The joke just seemed to fit. (shrug) If it doesn't, ah well.:

If you're wondering about the 'daioh' thing, it means 'king.' Basically, cute little Nakuru-chan is calling our favorite boy genius King Eriol. And he doesn't like it one little bit. It's supposed to be a transition from previous chapters, where she kept calling him 'Eriol-sama' so much that he got irritated and told her to stop calling him that, so, being Nakuru-chan, she switched to 'Eriol-daioh' without a hitch. Hee…I heart Nakuru.

I did receive your reviews, you lovely, lovely people. Thanks go out to all of you. I am going to honestly try to do review responses. Um. Next chapter. Heh. That is, if I GET reviews. (shrug) So see you there, everyone!