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

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

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"Point: Thomas."

Jackie released her opponent, then retreated several steps. She assumed a dachi, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet as the woman rose, taking a dachi of her own. Jackie contemplated attack or defense, deciding on attack.

Jackie took a quick few steps forward, her opponent retreating for several as she looked for any opening Jackie might be presenting. Thinking she spied one, she stopped, then took a step toward Jackie to press an attack of her own. Anticipating the move, Jackie snapped a kick at the woman's ribs that connected, followed quickly by a jab that her foe barely avoided. Jackie bounced backwards, as their audience gasped with approval.

"Point: Thomas."

The combatants danced around each other for a few seconds. Jackie's opponent dropped her guard a little too much and Jackie moved in for the kill. She applied a left-right combination to the woman's face, knocking her back. Jackie then squared her shoulders, stepping forward hard and fast to sweep one leg forward and behind the woman's knee, while simultaneously smashing a forearm across her adversary's chest. The woman fell onto her back, Jackie following her down to strike with a hard left to the face.

"Point and match: Thomas."

As the audience cheered and clapped, Jackie attempted to help her opponent up, who knocked away the proffered hand and rose clumsily on her own. The two karatekas turned, bowing while saying, "Arigatō gozaimasu, Sensei." Sensei returned the bow.

The woman, nearly a head shorter than Jackie, turned angrily, looked up at her, and hissed, "You need to keep your damn tits out of my face, I'm not a goddamn dyke like you."

"You're just jealous because you're a two-by-four. My advice to you is stop opening yourself up to throws and I won't be that close to you. I bet you don't stop, though, because lying on your back with someone on top seems to be your preferred state."

The woman flushed, turned, then stormed away, snatching a towel from her butler standing at the side of the ring.

Yep, that's Jeremy's little sister, all right, Jackie mused. She pumped her fist in victory, both for the match and the winning insult, immediately regretting it as a sharp pain shot through her bicep. Okay, gotta stop pretending I'm still young, as if the skateboard incident wasn't clue enough.

Generally speaking, Jackie was pleased with herself ... new to karate yet able to beat a woman eight years younger with more years of experience. It didn't even begin to cross Jackie's mind that her success could be because the woman was really awful at it.

After accepting the congratulations of classmates and other spectators, Jackie headed for the locker room. As she walked, she looked around, marveling at the sights. The strip-mall dojo, a small facility when it opened before she entered high school, now took up the entire strip mall. Its equipment was well maintained, some of it brand new and expensive, there were championship photos and trophies along one wall, and there were multiple upgrades to the building, including to the locker rooms. The dojo had absolutely thrived in the years since Sensei Brantley had lost it and new owners took over.

Jackie stopped, turning to watch the facility's janitor walk onto the pitch to mop the sweat off the padded floor. He noticed he was being watched, calling out, "Have a good weekend, Doctor Thomas."

"You too, Mister Brantley," Jackie responded. She thought it a bit sad he had gone from businessman to janitor, but had heard a few things that made it clear it was his own doing. She vaguely remembered Marco once mentioning the guy was basically a fifteen-year-old in a thirty-year-old's body. She chuckled as she recalled how, in high school, Marco occasionally seemed like a thirty-year-old in a fifteen-year-old's body. Now he really was thirty years old, and had aged into it spectacularly. She blushed a little at the thought, even though she wasn't entirely thinking of his body.

Taking her thoughts into the locker room, Jackie grabbed a towel off a rack as she walked to her locker. She stepped over the bench in front, then completely disrobed. As she soaked up her sweat with the towel, thinking of Marco triggered a pensive mood; she was so distracted by her thoughts she dropped the towel onto the bench, sinking down upon it.

Jackie sat, naked, lost in thought, completely oblivious to others that were coming in to get ready for the next class. Several girls blushed in embarrassment, while some older teens and women blushed with envy. Even though her partying days were behind her, she retained her comfort with public nudity, still going to nude beaches, so tended not to notice when she was showing too much skin. One young woman was clearly turned on, but even had she noticed, Jackie wasn't interested ... because of Marco.

Indeed, it was because of Marco that Jackie was even there to garner interest. Despite the anger she expressed to Marco at the time, she did listen to him about the danger inherent in joining his investigation into the murders. The day after he made her his research partner, she signed up for Karate lessons. She had no idea if, ultimately, it would make a difference ... she couldn't fight off a bullet ... but at least she wouldn't be entirely helpless. That could be very important in only a week's time.

Jackie had managed to contact her old friend, who was more than happy to arrange a visit to an archaeological site the French were working. For a weekend, she and Marco were joining an expedition under way in South America; the friend even secured permission for Marco and Jackie to explore the site unsupervised if they'd like, a privilege Jackie had not asked for. It was completely unheard of to have unfettered access to an active archaeological site; that made Jackie suspicious despite her trust in her friend, and she worried that her new karate skills would be needed.

So if the karate makes so much sense, then why haven't I told Marco about it? That was the bit that confused her, and so far her therapist had not helped prise out the reason. They came up with theories, to be sure, but none felt right to Jackie.

It had been only around two months since they'd rekindled their friendship, yet Jackie had to admit she was falling for Marco, if she hadn't already. It was absolutely a school-girl crush, she couldn't deny that, but it felt deeper as well. They did high school things together like watching, and discussing at length, TV shows, cartoons, and even fanfics, and had discussed playing games at the local comic shop like Angie had done from time to time.

But they were doing adult things too. They talked bills, ruminated on life and aging, occasionally went to lunch or dinner together ... not dates, although Jackie could not stop herself from thinking of them as such ... and were trying to solve a massacre, all making her feelings seem so much deeper than when they dated as teens. They so far hadn't done the adult thing, but she knew if he asked today she would accept without hesitation; it wasn't his mind she was interested in checking out when she invited him to that nude beach immediately upon seeing him for the first time in years. She wondered how long it would take for her to ask to do the mattress mamba if he didn't ... she wasn't young anymore, but she wasn't old, either.

Jackie sighed, shook her head, stood, then gathered up the towel from the bench and the pads she had discarded onto the floor. She deposited them in the bins for used equipment, returned to her locker to grab her bag from its shelf, then headed for the exit. She was so distracted by her thoughts that she had opened the door a smidge before she realized she hadn't dressed.

Her body flushed crimson, Jackie returned to her locker. She was surprised ... not that she had done it, but for the first time since she first showed off her naked bod to others, she had been embarrassed. As she dressed in dry clothes from her bag, she thought about why; after all, she hadn't been bothered by the other women seeing her. She suddenly realized it was the thought of being seen by men that mortified her.

But why? she asked herself. Then it hit her, answering, Because it feels like cheating on Marco.

Jackie finished dressing, stuffed her sweaty clothes into her bag, then walked slowly out of the facility, returning to her car. Just before she turned the key in the ignition, she thought, Well, holy shit.

— OoOoO — O — OoOoO —

The Peruvian jungle; more accurately, a Peruvian forest in the Reserva Nacional Pacaya Samiria, but Jackie didn't care. It was gorgeous, and a welcome sight after spending almost eighteen hours in planes and airports. The varied trees, the cacophony of bird song, buzzing insects, and other sounds of life, the earthy smells, even the soft ground underfoot, were a smorgasbord of sensory pleasures.

Jackie and Marco walked into a small clearing, having hiked there from where they had been dropped off. It had been a long, uncomfortable, ride from the closest airport, which wasn't close at all, then a two-hour hike through the forest on what was laughably called a trail. In their backpacks were their few accoutrements ... which Jackie pronounced a-kou-troe-maw, owing to her time in France, an appropriate pronunciation given they were approaching a joint Peruvian-French archaeological expedition. They travelled light, carrying only a few changes of clothes, documents, money, and their special phones and laptops, the expedition leaders having volunteered to provide food, shelter, and anything else they might need.

The small clearing was one of several near a pyramidal structure partially concealed within the canopy of the surrounding, tall, trees. Each clearing contained tents, some as quarters for the archaeologists and guests, others for protection from the environment while studying and cataloging artifacts. The entire complex, including the pyramid, was bustling with activity.

Catching sight of her friend, Jackie waved as she increased her strides toward one of the study clearings; Marco practically had to jog to keep pace. Jackie strode up to her smiling friend, saying, "Salut, salope!"

"S'up, ho?" the woman responded.

The two embraced, then gave exaggerated french-kisses to each other's cheeks. Jackie stepped back, stating, "Marco, I present to you my friend Isabelle Kristel. Isabelle, this is my good friend Marco."

Isabelle was of average height with a build suggesting strength. Her hair was medium length and curly, and her skin tone revealed her mixed French and Algerian ancestry. In a heavy french accent, she said, "I am pleased to meet you. Please call me Belle; any friend of Jackie's is a friend of mine. Bit surprised to see her with a man, though."

"We're not a couple," Marco and Jackie replied in unison.

Belle nodded with her head slightly turned so she could give them the side-eye, clearly not believing the statement.

Marco then stepped forward, indicating the man behind Belle that Jackie hadn't even noticed. He was very tall, muscular, and sported a thin moustache of French styling. Marco said, "And Jackie, I'd like you to meet Jean-Paul DuChamp, the French soldier I mentioned I had met."

In a heavy french accent of his own, Jean-Paul said, "Pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle. Please, call me Frenchie." He kissed a blushing Jackie's hand; she thought him very handsome, but not quite Marco handsome, a thought that made her blush harder.

Marco chuckled. "There's probably a lot of people here that will answer to Frenchie, but what the hell," he said. "And what's with that accent? You spoke English with a mostly british accent when I worked with you."

"Come to think of it, Belle," Jackie added, "you also spoke without a french accent."

The pair laughed. Speaking british-accented English, Frenchie said, "Just a habit, for the amusement of american tourists."

Turning her attention to the stone edifice, Jackie remarked, "That's quite the interesting pyramid."

"The Huaca de la Luna de Sangre; it's kind of a pyramidal cousin to the Huaca de la Luna outside Trujillo."

"What do those names mean?" Marco asked.

Belle responded, "You're clearly Hispanic, do you not speak Spanish?"

"Racist much?" Marco retorted. There was no anger in his voice, he'd long ago become used to the question and it hadn't bothered him for many years. That didn't mean he could resist baiting people, though.

"Yes," Belle answered, not taking the bait.

Frenchie chuckled, saying, "Huaca de la Luna is 'Temple of the Moon;' Huaca de la Luna de Sangre is 'Temple of the Blood Moon.'"

Frenchie noticed the quick glance Marco and Jackie gave each other, but chose to say nothing.

Belle indicated an empty tent. "Come, let's talk."

The four sat on either side of a table normally used for archaeological work, each pair facing each other.

To Frenchie, Marco said, "So, you got married after all. Congratulations."

"We're not a couple," Frenchie and Belle replied in unison.

"Oh, that's too bad. What happened?"

"We just ... realized it wasn't to be," Frenchie answered.

"Ah," Marco responded, his head turned slightly, giving Frenchie the side-eye. He wasn't buying it, but did not feel it was his place to pry.

"What about you two;" Belle interjected, "if you're not a couple, what are you?"

"Research partners," Jackie answered.

"Hmph," Belle responded, clearly not believing the claim.

"So," Marco continued with Frenchie, "what happened after our little joint venture against the pirates?" It had been more than a "little venture," a lot more, but the way he phrased it let Frenchie know what he had told Jackie.

"That little soirée made me a little itchy to see more of the world, so I resigned my commission and joined la Légion étrangère ..."

"The French Foreign Legion," Marco whispered to Jackie.

Jackie whispered back, "I speak French, dumbass."

Frenchie continued, "... as Henri LaTrec. It wasn't providing quite what I'd been hoping for, so I obtained special dispensation to end my contract after only three years. Since then, I've been strictly un mercenaire."

As Marco leaned in, Jackie whispered, "If you translate that, I'll punch you in the couilles." Jackie asked Belle, "What about you?"

"Oh, a little here, a little there. Although I never finished my degree I'm still with the archaeological in-crowd. Which brings me to you two ... Jackie, this site is almost exactly what you asked for, a recent discovery with moon-god imagery and primum runes, although you'd be hard pressed to find a site without runes. It's technically not a recent discovery, but it's only just come under study so nothing has yet been published other than its existence, and the Spectors were consulted in the early planning stages. You have full, unescorted, run of the site, but I've not told them exactly who you are. While I think they'd be honored to know a Spector was on site, Marco, I think, maybe, you shouldn't mention who you are, given what you're investigating."

"Makes sense," Marco replied.

"In case we're asked, what nom de guerre will you use?" Frenchie inquired.

Looking at Belle, Marco said, "Well, since people like you think people who look like me should have properly ethnic names, I'll use Marc Diaz."

Frenchie snorted. "What merde! You used that name during our investigation, just for the hell of it." Looking at Jackie, he asked, "And you, beautiful?"

Jackie thought for a few seconds, then answered, "Layla Alraune."

Marco raised an eyebrow.

Answering Marco's non-verbal question, Jackie replied, "I think one name is from a streaming service show, and the other from some comic book. I'm pretty sure both characters were historians or archaeologists, which would explain why the names stuck with me."

"Shouldn't that be Doctor Layla Alraune?" Marco asked.

"Probably not," Belle interjected. "Archaeology and historiography are big enough fields that someone could, in theory, be unknown by name to others in the fields, but it would certainly pique people's curiosity enough to look her up. Not finding anything about her would raise red flags I'm sure you don't want raised. Random enthusiasts showing up out of nowhere should be dismissed as amateurs with more money than sense."

After a further half hour of catching up, then an extended discussion of almost everything Marco knew about the case, the foursome parted ways, Belle and Frenchie making some vague claims about being needed elsewhere at the moment. Frenchie handed Marco and Jackie each a flashlight, then took charge of their packs, promising to take care of everything for them.

As the pair walked toward an entrance on the far side of the pyramid, a "back door" as Belle described it, although it easily could have been the "front door" in antiquity, Marco and Jackie talked about their hosts.

"They're certainly an interesting duo," Jackie mused.

"No kidding. Belle's quite something; she seems very comfortable in English, even using english turns of phrase and idioms. She's much more comfortable than Frenchie, whose Gallicness comes through in his speech."

"When I ran with her in college, her accent was distinctly american, almost Bostonian, not british like it was today."

"Frenchie was more than just a common soldier; I can't say more. So with him being involved with her, and her speaking not only multiple languages, but speaking with multiple accents within them like native speakers, I'm betting she's more than just an 'archaeology enthusiast.'"

"Multilingualism can come in handy for an archaeologist, or even enthusiast, but I trust your judgment, and I think I can guess what you're hinting at. Wonder if that's a coincidence, or just one more weirdness about our case."

Marco could do no more than shrug.

The pair stopped outside the rectangular entrance into the pyramid. The structure wasn't huge and uniform like the pyramids of Giza, but typical of the stepped pyramids found in the americas. Adorning the stone blocks around the opening were carvings reminiscent of those typically found on ancient american stone structures. The forest had attempted to reclaim the pyramid and its complex; vegetation covered most surfaces, including the pyramid, causing much of the complex to fall to ruin from biological weathering.

After entering the pyramid and walking down a very short passageway, the duo entered a small room where three people were carefully examining artifacts, petroglyphs and inscriptions. One forty-ish-looking man, dressed like the stereotypical archaeologists in movies of decades past, straightened from inspecting some broken pottery on the floor, his face breaking out in a convivial grin. Holding out his hand, he said, "Ah, you must be the guests we were told about. Doctor Steven Grant, happy to make your acquaintance."

Marco shook the proffered hand, as did Jackie, each introducing themselves with their pseudonyms.

Doctor Grant indicated the two people working the wall carvings, saying, "Meet my graduate assistants: Elsa Bloodstone and Jack Russel." Elsa was lithe and tall, only about an inch shorter than Marco, with fiery red hair tied back in a ponytail. Jack, also a redhead but with darker locks, was Marco's height and nearly as muscular. Deeply engrossed in their examinations, the two gave disinterested waves.

"Is there anything we can help you with ... Mister Diaz, wasn't it?" Doctor Grant asked. He narrowed his eyes at Marco. "Have we met before? You look very familiar to me."

"No, I can't say that we have, and please call me Marc."

"I'd swear ... I know, you look like a young Rafael Spector, but without the moustache. Are you a relative?"

Quickly changing the subject, Marco asked, "Layla, you're really the enthusiast, where do you think we should start?"

"The wall carvings, I think." Jackie knew full well their technical terms, but thought using them might give too much away. She figured it would help their anonymity if they came off as knowledgeable but not expert.

Marco gave Jackie a slight wink of approval, immediately catching on.

Doctor Grant led Marco and Jackie over to his grad students. "Elsa, Jack, I need to fetch some bags for those pottery shards, so I leave these two in your care. Do show them I'm not wasting my grant money on you." With that, Doctor Grant left the pyramid.

"That was kind of rude," Jackie said, in a low voice in case Doctor Grant was still close enough to hear.

Elsa grinned. "It's an act. He's actually quite a lovely man ... and a bloody genius; don't know why he put you with us, we're nowhere near his level. Yet." She spoke with a british accent.

"It's because we're more familiar with ancient writing than even the genius," Jack said, sounding like a fellow Los Angelino. "So, where would you like to start?"

"Your choice; we want to see everything you can show us," Marco answered.

For the next several hours, Elsa and Jack showed them, working deeper into the pyramid, snaking through multiple passageways and rooms. There were obviously no windows or skylights, so the grad students carried powerful lanterns to light their way.

"So far, we've not found evidence for why this is called 'Temple of the Blood Moon,'" Elsa explained. "I've actually found a few references to 'Bloodstone,' which is proper creepy, that is, as I'm pretty sure there were no europeans here at the time this complex was built."

"Just the aliens were here," Jack quipped.

"Shut yer gob about such tosh."

Jackie clicked on her flashlight, then illuminated the pictographs adorning a wall, asking, "Can you translate these?"

"Can you?"

Jackie took a closer look. In astonishment, she said, "They look like Aztec pictographs! Maybe more primitive, some seeming to incorporate primum runes, but ... they can't be Aztec. Do you know when this place was built?"

"There's a celestial date in the mural of the complex's construction, indicating it was completed in 19 CE."

Jackie nodded, continuing, "Given the age of this place, Zapotec would be more likely ... if we were in Central America."

"They absolutely are early Aztec, not Zapotec."

"But the Aztec Empire never reached this far south."

"Nor is there any evidence of the writing system expanding down to here, or from here up to there. It's an anomaly, sitting two thousand miles too far south and over a thousand years too early."

"Weird. But you didn't say whether you can translate them."

"I can, and this is where it gets weirder; it's in Quechua, not Nahuatl."

"Meaning?" Marco asked.

"Quechua is peruvian, while Nahuatl is Aztec. You would think Aztec pictographs would represent the Aztec language, not the local tongue." Elsa indicated the wall in front of her. "This speaks of the brother of the great moon goddess Ka-Ata-Killa. The goddess is another anomaly, a deity from the civilizations around Lake Titicaca to the south. The brother is not named, and we've never found any other reference to him ... so far as we know, without a name. According to this, he appears every 667 years to bind two worthy souls to his grace, or something like that."

Jackie grabbed Marco's hand and squeezed hard.

"That's pretty much the end of the short tour," Jack interjected.

"Thanks," Jackie responded. "We don't want to keep you away from your work any longer. We'd like to stay here for a while, we're kinda nerds for moon-deity lore."

"Okaaaaay," Elsa said, looking quizzically at Jackie. "Unless you speak Quechua I doubt you'll get much out of it, but who are we to judge."

"Here," Jack said, as he handed small air horns to both Marco and Jackie. "If you get into trouble, give three blasts, we'll come running to help. If we can." He looked around the small passageway they were in, lingering on the ceiling. "This thing is an engineering marvel ... honeycombed with passageways and rooms yet able to carry the weight of all this stone. It's a testament to their skill that it hasn't collapsed after two millennia. Yet."

Jack looked at Marco and Jackie, grinning. "The aliens were clearly masters of their craft." Elsa rolled her eyes.

With that, Jack and Elsa left the pair alone.

As Jackie and Marco examined the wall, Marco said, "Interesting coincidence that on a Peruvian-French dig the first three people we encounter are english and american."

"It's not odd that they'd be here, expeditions like this are usually multi-national, but running into them first thing, yeah, that seems more than coincidental." Jackie tilted her head, continuing, "Speaking of coincidences, a second mention of 667 years and a third of binding souls. A quick bit of math from the Kaskuh Tablet date has 19 CE being a year of the Blood Moon. Are you ready to accept that they're real?"

"No."

Marco clicked on his flashlight and pointed it at a section of wall about chest high, then stepped closer to see it better. He brushed away dirt and vegetation detritus that had been obscuring a pair of primum runes and a crescent moon.

"I'm not sure they'd like you touching stuff," Jackie said.

"Tough. Look at this?"

Jackie walked up to the wall, adding the light from her flashlight to Marco's. "Oh," she said. "That's the same moon symbol we've seen with other primum runes."

Marco didn't answer, as he moved his face close to the wall. "Hm," he said. He gently brushed at the wall, discovering a faint line circumscribing the runes and moon in a rectangle, as if it was a brick.

"Ahhhhh," Jackie exhaled. She then reached for the brick as Marco stepped back.

"I thought the rule was 'no touchie.'"

"The Emperor's New Groove. Appropriate." Jackie pressed on the runes, adding, "Rules are meant to be broken."

"That's the exact opposite of what they're meant for," Marco commented.

"Deadpool 2: Wade Wilson Strikes Back."

"Good catch. You know, I met the man once. Those documentaries didn't do justice to his crazy."

Jackie continued pressing on the runes. She grunted with effort, finally commanding, "Help me."

Marco pressed with Jackie; the brick moved a millimeter, a few particles of dirt falling from the seams.

"Look out." Jackie moved out of the way, then Marco smashed the side of a fist against the wall. More dirt fell from the seams. "Again."

Jackie and Marco pushed again, grunting with effort. The brick suddenly gave way, moving an inch into the wall. Behind them, they heard the sound of stone scraping on stone. Turning, they found that a section of wall had moved inward.

"Wow, what made you think that might be a switch?" Marco asked.

"Movies. Duh."

Marco walked over to the wall, carefully looking behind the now-offset stone, shining his light into the fissure. A narrow passageway disappeared deeper into the pyramid.

Marco let out some breath in a hiss, then said, "Passageway. What do you think ... booby trapped?"

"Dude!" Jackie replied, a seductive lilt to her voice. "Depends on what kind of boobies you're talking about." She shimmied her shoulders to jiggle her melons. Marco just stared at her, showing no visible reaction. "You're no fun," she grumbled. "Anyhoo, traps've been found in other sites, but they were usually obvious and were so old they didn't work anyway."

"Okay then, I believe you. Ladies first."

Jackie rolled her eyes, then stepped past the dislocated stone, taking the lead into the passageway. Marco followed.

As always, stay amazing!