All original characters, dialog and situations used from Star vs The Forces of Evil and Moon Knight are © The Walt Disney Company.

— OoOoO — O — OoOoO —

All original characters, dialog and situations used from fanfics are © by their respective authors.

XII

After the fall of night, lit by the full moon, Jackie and Marco, along with the members of the expedition, entered the large village a short walk from the pyramid complex. A few steps into the village, Marco and Jackie were accosted by five women, one who said, "No apropiado," as she tugged on Marco's athletic shirt and pointed at Jackie's shorts. Another woman winked, reading from a small piece of paper in spanish-accented English, "Courtesy of Frenchie and Belle. Enjoy." They were ushered into a largish building next to the main street, then separated. After nineteen minutes, Marco stepped out of the building, followed a few seconds later by Jackie out a different door.

Marco was wearing a black suit of traditional spanish styling, with a deep red shirt. Jackie wore a one-piece, sleeveless and strapless, light-blue dress, with a darker blue sash about her waist. The dress was tight to her figure above the waist but loose below to allow it to balloon out during dancing, the skirt ending just below her knees. She had a large, blue, flower in her hair, and about her neck a loose bead-necklace made from small stones, their green color complementing the aqua-green streak in her hair. The necklace carried an iridescent blue, moon-shaped, pendant, which nestled in the cleavage exposed by the modest plunge of the dress.

"Damn fine," Marco said, smiling, with just a touch of blush.

"You, too," Jackie responded, blushing slightly herself, from both Marco's praise and her attraction to how handsome he looked.

Marco offered his arm, which Jackie gladly took. Marco heard the ladies who had dressed them cooing and tittering behind them.

Long before the pair walked into the party area, they were met by the enticing smells of rich food and sounds of enjoyment. The party took over a large section of the main street, the buildings alongside it festively decorated in a Blue Moon theme, including streamers and light strings between them. Tables were set up along the perimeter, with the area in their middle open for dancing. A small band provided music, and many people were already dancing, their bodies and feet moving rhythmically.

"Let's dance," Jackie said, enthusiastically.

"Layla, I'm bushed," Marco complained.

"C'mon, Marc, it'll be fun."

Jackie led Marco into the dance area. They danced facing each other, and next to each other, swinging arms and hips to the music, as their feet moved to the beat. Now and then other men and women came up to dance with them, which they indulged even though they had eyes only for each other.

As time wore on, Marco's dancing became simpler and slower. Finally, he said, "Layla, I can't take any more. I'm going to go sit for a bit, but you stay out here and have fun."

Marco walked over to an unoccupied table, pulled out a chair, then sat, facing the dancers. He watched Jackie, very popular with the young men and a few young ladies now that she was alone. She danced and twirled, often laughing, and clearly was having a whale of a great time. She looked over to Marco as she swung her dress using both hands and hips, a delighted smile on her face.

Finally, the band struck up a slow tune which Marco had never heard before. Jackie held out a beckoning hand toward Marco, who rose and walked over to join her. As Marco took the proffered hand, Jackie put her free hand on Marco's shoulder and Marco placed his on Jackie's hip.

As they danced, Marco asked, "Have you heard this music before?"

"No," Jackie replied. She raised one eyebrow, her face breaking into an evil grin. "I overheard one of the folks call it 'The Blood Moon Waltz.'"

Marco simply shook his head.

The two danced, and twirled, and dipped, greatly enjoying themselves. Marco's fatigue seemed to have melted away in Jackie's embrace.

Jackie looked up into Marco's eyes, a soft expression of delight on her face. "Where have you been hiding these dance moves, Mister Diaz?" she asked.

"Nowhere, Miss Alraune. I mean, I just keep on dancing, you know? It's what my grandma always told me: 'just keep dancing, even if you look silly.'"

After the song ended and the two parted, Jackie again looked into Marco's eyes. In broken English, French, and Spanish, she had discussed the subject of Marco with the nice ladies that dressed her. Swimming in the dark pools that were Marco's dreamy brown eyes, she made the decision she had been contemplating ever since having that conversation. She said, "Marc, let's talk. In private."

"It can't wait?"

"No."

Jackie looked around for the alley the ladies had told her about, exiting near a path leading to a very private spot in the surrounding woods. Finding it, Jackie took Marco's hand, leading him through the alley and onto the trail. The footpath was dark, but there was just enough light from the full moon filtering through the canopy to see where they were going.

Discovering a bench well hidden from observation, the pair sat. "Did we need to come way out here?" Marco asked.

"I don't want to risk anybody seeing ... I mean, overhearing."

Jackie casually swung her feet up onto Marco's lap, as she leaned back on a bench arm. Despite her calm demeanor, she was nervous, a strange sensation for her. She'd never been nervous about this before, not even her first time. She'd always been straightforward and confident when she was the instigator, with both guys and gals.

Marco leaned against the back of the bench. When he didn't prompt her to talk, Jackie decided that was the opening to make her move. She swung her feet back to the ground then stood slightly, bringing her face up to Marco's quickly, making it impossible for him to pull away.

Marco's eyes were already closed, as if in anticipation, as Jackie leaned in, closed her own eyes, and pressed her lips to his. As she did so, in one continuous motion, she pulled down the top of her dress, took his hands, and placed them firmly on her girls. She twitched slightly at the feeling of erotic electricity that shot through her, and felt her sensitive chest raisins immediately rise up in response. Then ... nothing. She was confused by the lack of motion from Marco's hands, then realized he was not kissing her back. She cracked open an eye, finding what she expected: he was asleep. His eyes had been closed not in anticipation but because he had finally succumbed to exhaustion.

Jackie sighed good naturedly, extricated herself, then moved Marco into a more comfortable position. She snickered as she pulled her dress up, then giggled, then guffawed at the absurdity of it.

Jackie was certain she wanted it, but now had second thoughts about pushing the issue. They had yet to even kiss ... her attempt just a few moments ago notwithstanding ... making it seem like this was an attempt at nothing more than a casual romp. But that was not what she desired; she wanted not a fling, but serious lovemaking, with emphasis on the "love," not the "making." She decided she should wait until if ... when ... they were an official couple again, or at least until Marco was awake for it.

For a moment Jackie thought the moonlight turned red, but when she looked up, what she could see of the moon was its usual white.

Jackie sat next to Marco, then put an arm around his shoulders to keep him from falling over. She leaned in, kissed him on the cheek, then whispered, fondly, "Still making me laugh." She contentedly listened to his breathing, the muffled music drifting in from the party, the symphony of the forest, and the soft notes she was contributing to it all. She even heard a wolf howling in the near distance ... Odd, she thought, the wolves of South America aren't supposed to be howlers.

After allowing Marco to sleep for a bit, Jackie gently woke him. He shuffled groggily as she led him back to the building on the edge of town, where they changed into their own clothes. They then walked back to their tent and turned in for the night.

Star's consciousness had just begun to take hold after Marco entered his slumber on the bench; she'd immediately felt the tactile impressions of being kissed and Marco's hands on two prominent, bare, parts of Jackie's intimate anatomy. The sensations ended, followed by the sound of Jackie's mirth, the rustling of cloth as she covered herself, and soft noises Star was certain were coming from Jackie. It was all so surprising that Star couldn't think how to properly react, and was gravely disappointed Jackie had stopped before more happened. Concluding that Marco had to be utterly exhausted to not ravage this smart, sexy, woman who clearly wanted him, Star decided to not go adventuring and allow their body a good night's rest.

— OoOoO — O — OoOoO —

The next morning, Marco and Jackie stood with Frenchie and Belle at the head of the trail out of the encampment. Marco remembered nothing of what happened on the bench after he sat; Jackie told him only that he'd immediately fallen asleep. Star said nothing.

"Thank you for everything," Jackie said, she and Belle kissing cheeks french-style. Belle then repeated with Marco.

Frenchie shook Marco's and Jackie's hands. "Call me any day, any time, for anything you think I can help with. I want you to get those bastards."

"The same goes for me, on all accounts," Belle added.

Marco and Jackie shouldered their packs, then headed off down the trail. The french pair watched them go, then, when the americans had moved well out of earshot, Frenchie asked, "May I presume you're still a spy for Direction Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure?"

"I cannot confirm nor deny."

"In other words, 'yes.' You know more than you let on, don't you?"

"I know they're correct that there's more to the murders than anybody knows, I just don't know what. I briefly looked into it soon after it happened as I remembered my parents knew Angie Spector, and Jackie might have mentioned Marco a few times, but I found no more details than what they have. Well, other than aliens being involved, but that's just more of that 'aliens built the pyramids' garbage."

Frenchie chuckled. "Yeah, I agree, the aliens probably had no involvement."

Belle looked sharply at Frenchie. Although what he said could easily be a joke, he had used the tone of voice he always did when dissembling; it was subtle, something only someone like her, who had spent many years listening to him, would recognize. For the same reason, she knew better than to press him for an explanation.

— OoOoO — O — OoOoO —

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

The woman spoke English, in an american accent, so Marco felt a strong wave of confusion from the woman saying she had not understood what he said. Then he was confused by the fact that he didn't remember saying anything in the first place. Adding even more to Marco's confusion was the fact that the woman's features were fuzzy and distorted and that the voice, also distorted, had nonetheless sounded familiar. Worse, it seemed that the feelings of confusion over her language and her features were separate, as if each were felt by two distinct beings. Marco looked past the woman out a window, suddenly understanding why it seemed like two different consciousnesses were in play ... he could see an otherworldly sky of clouds tinged orange and part of a large moon with a debris ring. He was having a dream as Star.

Speaking in accented English, Star said, "My apologies for speaking Middle-Mewnian, I took your boldness toward the queen as evidence you're lower nobility. I assumed you were speaking High-Mewnian in the tavern, and as we travelled here to the castle, because you were 'slumming it,' to use a vulgar turn of phrase."

"High-Mewnian is the only language I know," the woman responded. "I'm a peasant, born and raised, from the tropical regions to the south-east of the Johansen Protectorate, near the equator."

"I should've guessed by your skin color and accent."

"Do you find them exotic and alluring?" The question was asked in a lascivious tone.

"Maybe..." Marco suddenly felt a wave of shyness wash over Star.

"Perhaps if you saw more..." The woman removed her top, paused, then removed her skirt. She paused again, perhaps assessing Star's reaction, then removed her under-garments in a striptease, striking an immodest pose when she was down to what she was born with.

Marco was unable to judge the attractiveness of the woman as she remained fuzzy and distorted, but surmised that she must be pleasing to look at as he felt a new sensation from Star, that of arousal. The woman slowly walked up to Star, embraced her wantonly, then kissed her deeply and passionately. The woman pulled back, looked Star in the eyes, held the gaze for a few seconds, then kissed Star again, this time placing her hand firmly on Star's chest.

Marco felt the surprise at the boldness, and an increase in Star's attraction. He then felt another wave of surprise, as the woman's hand quickly moved off Star's chest, down her stomach, then began to slip under the waistband of her pantaloons.

Marco bolted awake. He was lying on the floor of the bullpen, where he'd fallen asleep while staring at the main murder board. The sensations he'd felt of arousal and attraction were replaced with that of intense fury; he'd felt this fury before, but at the moment couldn't recall when. The anger quickly gave way to a feeling of sadness and, at the same time, longing, which soon faded to nothingness.

He knew he'd had a dream as Star, but, as with other dreams, Marco's memory of it was fading fast. After a few minutes, all he could remember was that he'd had a dream as Star, the orange sky and moon, the strange woman, and Star's fury as he awoke. He had a vague memory of the woman stripping, but no details.

Marco wondered about the woman stripping ... not so much the woman part, but the stripping part. He'd not had a dream like that for many years.

'Maybe she was Jackie.'

Marco jumped at the sudden voice. Good lord, don't surprise me like that.

'What do you expect me to do? It's not like I can tap you on the shoulder, or something ... although I was able to slap you that one time, but it seems like that'd be even more jarring. Oh, and no need to call me your "lord," "Star" is sufficient.'

Funny, you crazy delusion, you. At least you didn't tell me to call you "my queen."

Marco felt a sudden sense of surprise. 'You remember that?'

I ... guess I do. Maybe. But it tracks with what I remember from that hypnosis session, and the video from the emergency room. Anyhoo, why would the woman in the dream be Jackie?

'Perhaps Jackie did something similar to us?'

Now you are talking crazy, I'd definitely remember that. Marco felt the sensation of something in his mind being closed off, but decided not to remark on it.

'Maybe we're dreaming about her because we're in love with her.'

Marco paused for a few seconds, thinking of Jackie. He definitely felt an attraction toward her, but ... No, I don't think it was Jackie. Based on what I can remember, the dream woman was indistinct, like my mind was making her up ... which is the most likely explanation. Although ... seeing a fuzzy lady does seem familiar. Maybe in another dream? Marco shook his head. If she was in another dream, I can't remember the rest of it.

For the next few minutes, Marco tried to remember more of the dream he'd just awoken from. Finally, he asked Star, What do you remember?

A pause of a few seconds, then, 'No more than what you do.'

Marco wondered what other dreams he'd had as Star. He remembered the incident with the brothel, but technically that was an hypnosis induced delusion, not a dream. He had flashes of memories: riding a unicorn, a costumed vigilante, the woman with clover tattoos on her face outside the delusion, and the otherworldly sky over pyramids and onion domes, plus the sensation that he'd seen the fuzzy woman before; but only the otherworldly sky, domes and pyramids could he remember with any clarity and certainty.

Do you remember any of those things? Marco asked.

Receiving no answer, Marco decided they'd reached their time limit after sleep. He was disappointed; he especially wanted to ask about the flashes of memory of dreams as a vigilante swaddled in red cloth. He'd always dismissed them as the mind playing tricks due to hearing it talked about on the news, and the weirdness of all the "Blood Moon" stuff, but that belief was being shaken.

Marco sat up, staring at the murder boards. A few items had been added since he created them, like an oblique mention of the encrypted drives and a clipping from a Peruvian newspaper about the dig, but no additional lines linking anything had been added. Maybe I could link the Celtic cross...

Marco lay back onto the floor, staring at the ceiling. Nothing, he thought, two months and nothing. He felt intense disappointment, even though, intellectually, he knew he shouldn't. Cases could take years to solve, including cases where more was known than currently was known about his.

Marco rolled onto his stomach, his hands layered under his chin. I don't want to spend years on this, though; I want to find those bastards, yes, but, I also want to start a family, fall in love, although maybe not in that order. I'm running out of time to do those things. Marco mused that he should feel guilty for contemplating that his priorities might be improper, but then asked himself, But should I feel guilty? What would mom and dad want? Conversations through the years flashed in his mind. They'd want their murderers brought to justice ... hell, knowing mom, she'd want bloody revenge ... but at the cost of having my own life? They wanted me to have a life and be happy; they even supported me joining the military even though I know they were disappointed I didn't follow them into the 'family business.' And ... without a doubt, mom wanted grandkids; dad, too, I think.

'Maybe you can do both?'

Marco sensed a wave of affection ... toward him. Oh, still here?

'Yes.'

So how do I do both?

'Jackie.'

Marco sensed another wave of affection, this time toward Jackie; affection he shared.

Would she want to make that kind of sacrifice, to track those bastards down rather than devote everything to family?

'If she loves you, yes ... to an extent, anyway. Depends on how badly she wants kids. You'd have to give up your search entirely with kids.'

Why? It could still be a hobby.

'Jesus H. Fucking Christ, Marco. THINK!'

Marco knew immediately, and felt a flash of shame at having to be told. Because of the danger. He sighed. Well, there are no kids, yet, and none soon, I'm sure.

Star chuckled. 'Yeah, you missed an opportunity to start trying.'

What the heck is that supposed to mean?

'Never mind. Look, you've had little opportunity to speak with her since the trip, so why don't you invite her over today? I can tell, you'd like to spend more time with her rather than less. So do I. Several images flashed in Marco's mind. They seemed like teenage sleepovers, of all things. Before Marco could ask for an explanation, Star continued, It's too bad we don't have the "Truth or Punishment Box."' Star's voice took on a mechanical tone, and a bit of an echo, as she asked, 'Whom do you have a crush on?'

Marco smiled. My crush is on Jackie. Jackie Lynn Thomas. Feeling a tinge of pride, he amended, My crush is on Doctor Jackie Lynn Thomas.

— OoOoO — O — OoOoO —

Marco sat in silence, staring at his computer's monitor, as Jackie sat next to him staring at hers. There was one big difference between the two; Jackie was concentrating on sifting through data, while Marco couldn't concentrate at all.

Marco sighed heavily as he leaned back, weaving his fingers together behind his head. Jackie turned toward him, leaning against the desk as she stared at him. She didn't prompt him to talk, as she knew it would soon be forthcoming. After a couple minutes, she was proven correct.

Marco dropped his hands into his lap, saying, "I had really high hopes for that trip, but we learned nothing."

Jackie smiled slightly, responding, "Actually, we learned a great many things; what we don't know is if they were all purely academic or whether they advanced our case."

Marco grunted in annoyance, looking at the murder board. "The military, the police, the FBI, all did investigations, and came up with nothing. At least a half-dozen people participated in a massacre. It's unlikely they were locals, so there should have been some evidence of them coming into the area, like hotel stays, purchases, witnesses noting a gathering of strangers, and so on. Experienced individuals can hide all of that, but for a group to do it generally requires them to be government sponsored actors, well-funded terrorists, or paramilitary groups. But what possible interest would any of those groups have in an archaeological dig?"

Marco cocked his head, but the tilted view didn't result in an epiphany. "They came out of nowhere, murdered a dozen people, tore me to pieces, destroyed a butte, cleaned it all up like nothing I've ever seen, then disappeared completely, leaving no traces. Maybe fucking aliens did do it."

'You cracked the case! Good for you! It absolutely was aliens!'

"Oh, shut the fuck up!"

"But I didn't say ... oh, tell Star 'hello' for me."

"Star says 'Hello and nice ass, Jackie.'"

Jackie blushed a little, as Star protested, I did not! She does, but I didn't say it.

"That's funny, Marco, since she was swinging your ass at me the whole time she was in control."

'I did do that.'

"She seems to be coming out more often, for longer, and with more interaction than just seeing her in reflections, or so I'm guessing."

Marco nodded.

"What does Doctor North have to say about it?"

Marco looked down guiltily. "It's been weeks since my last session. I do need to go back, Star has a little too much impact on my thoughts and actions these days."

"That's not all." Jackie pulled out her phone, showing Marco the broken camera lens.

"How in the world did you do that?"

"I didn't. Star did. Or rather, you did. You smacked it out of my hand so hard that the lens cracked when it hit the ground. It didn't even land on a rock or something. And what's more, you didn't hurt my hand despite the amount of force you had to be using. It took some skill and strength to do all those things."

"I ... weird. I have some strength, but not enough to do that. This stuff can take a hit from a bullet and not crack."

'It was magic!'

"And that's not everything ... Star said you didn't understand the mural. What she said when looking at it implied she did. Neither one of us realized, she never really shared with us what the dang thing means. Maybe you should ask her?"

Star? You wanna dish? Marco was greeted with silence in his head. "Of course, now she's not talking." Marco growled in frustration. "I mean, my damn crazy isn't talking. It doesn't matter; whatever I said in front of the fresco was my traumatized, insane, brain making shit up again."

Jackie started to reach out to touch Marco's hand, but realized he didn't really want comfort but answers, answers she couldn't give. She pulled back, then turned again to her computer screen. "I'm disappointed with where things are, too." Not just with the case, she thought, as she tapped her chin. "I'm not at all certain any longer that we're going to find what we need from these records. There are a few statements in some unpublished notes about Giza that seem similar to what we saw in Peru, but ... given that what we saw in Peru doesn't appear to have any bearing on our case, it makes me wonder if a trip there would be worth it. And that's all the new stuff I've been able to find, so far." She mumbled, "I really wish we could crack those damn drives."

Instead of returning to his screen, Marco instead decided to admire Jackie. She sat, concentrating on her research, while maybe showing a little too much skin as usual. He thought that noticing it in a slightly disapproving way probably came from him spending so much time around formal military types and stuffy academics. He could not deny, though, that he really liked the view, nonetheless. He couldn't decide if it was because he was loosening up, or because it was Jackie, but strongly suspected it was a little of the former and mostly the latter.

The sight of skin made Marco think of the dream, and the woman-on-woman action that was well on its way to occurring. The thoughts then came, unbidden, of Jackie's activities in that sphere. He shook his head, feeling that was somehow inappropriate, but then wondered why he'd never thought about them before. After a few more moments, he realized she'd never shown any outward predilections toward that when they were attending school together for all those years. He wondered why.

Marco knew it was none of his business, that he would be out of line asking, but his curiosity got the better of him. And, while maybe not the best topic to start with, he knew he ought to be getting to know her much, much, better, that she deserved someone who wanted to get to know her better and maybe, just maybe, that was him.

"Jackie, can I ask you a rather ... intimate question?" Marco broached.

Jackie raised an eyebrow. "Um, sure."

"When did you begin to suspect you were bi? I don't recall ever getting that vibe from you back in school." Marco paused a second, then added, "Don't feel you have to answer that."

Jackie answered, "It's okay, I'm very open about my orientation. I do keep certain details to myself, but you're now one of the few people I'd share those details with. To answer your question, I'm ... not sure. I certainly suspected after starting college, although I think that might have been more a case of knowing but not accepting. After meeting Chloe was when I absolutely accepted it, but, when did I begin to suspect? Maybe when ..."

Jackie paused, turning from her screen to stare at Marco. Marco stayed silent, giving Jackie the room she needed to make what was obviously a tough decision.

"Although I just said you're one of the people I'd share with, this involves more than just me ... but I guess it's still okay to tell you. Even if I didn't know you can keep secrets, mister military man, one person has already mentioned she doesn't care about people knowing, and the other is probably dead and gone."

Jackie paused again, then cleared her throat. "Back before you and I dated, Janna and Alycia and I took showers together and ... did stuff."

"Really?" Marco said, smirking. "You mean, like try out different shampoos?"

Jackie laughed, punching Marco lightly on the arm.

"Yeah, shampoos ... and more than shampoos. Maybe that's why I'm always so keen to get people into the shower, although, weirdly, getting freaky once in the shower is not something I've done very often, not even with boy- and girl-friends. Not even Chloe."

Jackie paused, deep in thought, her mind clearly in the past.

Marco interjected, "Alycia always seemed fluid, given how many different male and female characters she cosplayed as. But Janna? I'm surprised she liked either gender."

"I don't want to overstate things, we probably didn't do it many more than half a dozen times; we stopped when you and I started dating, so I don't have a lot to go by. But, it always seemed to me that for Janna it was solely about the physicality of it; I believe there's a term for it ... aromanticism, I think. I'm not even sure it was about the 'fun' for her, I suspect it might really have been about how it gave her power over you in an intimate way, if briefly, given how aggressive she was in instigating, and controlling, our sessions. She stared into our eyes the whole time we were ..." Jackie paused, "... she stared into our eyes the whole time. Thinking about it now, I bet the only reason Alycia and I weren't majorly creeped out by it was because we were distracted by ... other things."

"Hunh. Those must have been some awesome distractions."

Jackie snorted a little bit, looking at Marco with narrowed eyes and evil grin. "Janna was good ... the best that's ever done me."

"Crude," Marco interjected.

Jackie shrugged. "She did this one thing that drove me and Alycia wild. I've never found anybody else that can do it, including me and I've tried a lot."

Jackie shook her head. "We were really young ... surprisingly young, as I look back on it as an adult. I'm surprised we were thinking about such things at that age, although I guess I shouldn't be; we weren't kids, we were teens well into puberty with all the raging hormones that come with it. That doesn't mean I was old enough to analyze it in regard to life choices, though; it was more about ... exploring. Obviously, I was at least bi-curious at that time. I have to admit, I enjoyed the heck out of it, and I think Alycia did too. Janna? Who really knows."

Jackie paused, then continued after a few seconds, "I'll never know whether I'd've gone down the bi route without that experience, but I strongly believe I would have. Regardless, to answer your question, you can't help but suspect you're bi after willingly participating in something like that, while still liking boys."

"Jackie, from what I understand, exploration is normal. Still ... I remain surprised about Janna; I never thought Janna had any kind of interest in either girls or boys, physical or not."

"Yeaaahhh..." Jackie narrowed her eyes, staring at Marco as she waded through a couple memories.

"What?"

Jackie smiled, saying, "Nothing. Anyhoo..." Jackie turned back to her screen. "Now what?"

It was Marco's turn to tap his chin in thought. "We really have no other leads apart from those drives. I suppose it's time to step up trying to crack them. And ... not everything gets written down, especially if it doesn't relate directly to the work. Maybe we talk to people mom and dad worked with," Marco paused, cleared his throat, then continued, "that are still alive ... maybe even Donna, as much as I don't want to."

"Yeah, maybe then things will get moving."

— OoOoO — O — OoOoO —

Within the Groundlands of the Butterfly Protectorate, in the capital of the High Kingdom of Mewni, a secret meeting was taking place in a nondescript building, not far from the towering Butterfly Castle. In a small room, several men and women were arrayed around a semi-circular desk, while behind it sat a woman slouching in a high-backed leather chair, observing the others with steely eyes.

Precisely as a clock struck the hour, the host nodded toward one man, saying simply, "Report."

The man responded, "Spector and his whore traveled to one of the ancient sacred temples in the terran land of Peru. They spent several days there, much of the time within the pyramid where I could not observe them. Two terran operatives of nasty reputation were also there, so I had to keep my distance. If they learned anything, I have no idea; I cannot see through stone, nor could I get close enough to eavesdrop, and your devices continue to not be able to read theirs."

"So, you failed."

The man narrowed his eyes, his voice taking on an angry tone. "I followed your instructions. If they're such a damn threat, why not let me kill them then and there? The woman is a fine piece of ass, maybe Harrow wants her? Or maybe you want her for your own?" The man leered as he made the accusation. "Look, I'm done wasting my time. Where is Harrow? He should be here to take these reports personally." The man stood. "Fuck it. I'm not wasting my time any longer with 'Harrow's Little Bitch.'"

An explosion hammered the ears of everyone in the enclosed space. The man looked down at his chest, observing a widening stain, next to where his heart was. The shot had not hit his heart directly but likely tore a rent; he did not know which and did not care, as with each beat the blood still spurted out.

All eyes turned toward the sound of the host's chair scraping on the floor as it was pushed back. The woman lowered the terran ballistic weapon in her hand, stood, then replaced it into a holster within her waistband.

The injured man fell to the floor, yet all eyes followed the woman as she walked around the desk to the man. She looked down upon him, watching with a slight smirk on her face, her hand resting on the butt of the weapon, ready to draw it if one shot had been insufficient. Once his breath rattled in his throat for the very last time, she turned away, then walked back to her chair, leaving bloody shoeprints behind.

"What threat do they pose?" the woman asked, rhetorically. "Possibly none. But that pyramid in Peru was once a traversal point between Earth and Mewni, before its magic well sealed. They could spend their lives searching and never discover us ... unless they find one of the open wells. Finding even a defunct one could lead them to an open one, depending on what remains around the closed one."

"But," one of the women interjected, fearfully, "they're terrans. How could they possibly do anything that could harm us?" She was now terrified of this woman from the south-eastern reaches of Mewni.

"First, two missions have tried to kill the man and both failed, the second coming down with a permanent case of the deads."

The woman paused, to let that sink in.

"Second, nobody's perfect; some clue could have been left behind that, should they come to Mewni and reveal it, would be ... problematic. Even if they come here and just ask questions it might bring unwanted attention to our employer. Third," the woman leaned meaningfully onto the table, "they could obtain the artifact. We can't retrieve it as it will take massive heavy equipment and time; we'd be noticed, and stopped. But as a Spector, Marco could have just enough money and influence to mount a dig." She crossed her arms. "They might still pose no threat, as long as they stay on Earth, but it doesn't matter ... if the artifact is exhumed, we want it."

The woman stood. "You need to step up your surveillance. Expand the number of his and the woman's acquaintances and contacts that you're watching. Gather however many more people you need, whatever equipment you need, and decide among yourselves who will watch whom. I want things to get moving, so be through the traversal points in no more than three days."

As always, stay amazing!