Byzantine Pyrrhichios: Mass, Interrupted

They came out of the trans-temporal flash, blinking heavily, while the thunder-clap died out -

- into a concerted gasp from hundreds of throats, before ringing silence fell. Rose, feeling suddenly like the proverbial deer in the headlights, froze, only her eyes darting around at the faces massed before them. Then her eyes were drawn inexorably heavenward, towards a soaring, airy dome stretching impossibly high overhead, streaks of slanting sunlight from the side windows setting clouds of incense aglow.

"Hagia Sophia," she whispered reverently, recognizing the world's most famous cathedral instantly. "In the middle of mass." Slowly she turned her head to send Jack a glare that should have frozen his soul. "You did this on purpose!" was her steely accusation.

"Yup!" he grinned back, eyebrows flaring in amusement, utterly unrepentant. "Now that's how to make an entrance!"

She drew breath to hiss him back to hell, but was interrupted by a middle-aged man walking hesitantly towards them, mouth agape, trying to find his dignity. He was apparently a nobleman, not a priest, though his "fine" clothes – while still elegant – had seen better days. He gave the pair of visitors a cautious bow, then offered a greeting – at least, that's what Jack assumed it was. Unfortunately, he had no idea what the man was saying. Jack opened his mouth to begin a smooth reply, shifting the box of gold under his arm and getting ready to supplement words with hand gestures -

- when he suddenly realized that beside him Rose was already speaking, in the same language as the stranger. He stole a sideways glance at her flushed face and shut his mouth with a pop, turning back to smile winningly (albeit blankly).

"Please, my lord, we are not angels," Rose was saying, breathlessly, astonished at her own temerity. "We have come on behalf of the angels, though, to offer assistance in the defense of the city. You... you are the Emperor, Constantine, yes?"

"I have that honor, most gracious lady," came the courtly reply, all at odds with his shabby appearance. "You may well question it," he went on ruefully. "We have all fallen on hard times. And we are in desperate need of angelic assistance. The Turks..." Biting off an incipient rant, he closed both mouth and eyes for a moment, steadying himself with a deep breath. "Any help you can offer will be gladly received."

"There is one here called Orban, who comes from the north? Who says he can build weapons?"

"Yes, there is." Constantine was startled, but then shook his head. "But he is leaving. We cannot pay him."

Rose smiled, drawing it out, then turned it to Jack and motioned towards the box. He got the message, and turned it towards Constantine, flinging back the lid dramatically.

The entire congregation gasped again at the glitter of gold nestled within the chest. As the Emperor, eyes wide in wonder, slowly reached a shaking hand for a few coins, Jack slipped out the side of his mouth, "You speak Greek..."

"Of course!" she replied with the same "duh" note she'd been using. "It's the liturgical language of the Holy Church!"

And finally the light dawned. "You're Orthodox!"

"What else? It is the only Christian church!"

Whatever else he was going to say was cut off, as the Emperor suddenly slid to his knees, openly weeping, reaching for Rose's hand and pressing kisses to it. She tried to stop him, but he looked up at her – and then his eyes slid past her face, far up the wall behind them, and dawning wonder set his face aglow. "Of course!" he whispered. "Blessed holy mother, the legends are true. You have come to protect your holy city."

Bewildered, both the visitors swiveled slowly around, peering above their shoulders. And there, in a glorious blue-and-gold stained glass window...

...was a vision of Rose herself, as the Virgin Mary. There was no mistaking her blonde hair, her lovely features.

They twisted back and stared at each other, Rose in shock, Jack trying his very best to smother a smirk and slowly losing.

"You... are... so... dead..." she hissed in fury, then turned back to raise Constantine from the floor with more protestations. He jumped up, recovering, and shouted for his men-at-arms, and began to sweep the two "angels" out to stop the imminent departure of the cannon-maker, Orban of Hungary.

"As always." Jack said to the air and followed.