A sequel to BOOTBLADES and quite spicy. Rated NC-17 for language and sex.

He seemed genuinely pleased that a professor from another area of the university, and quite a famous one at that, had come all the way across campus to talk to him. In recent years visitors, other than his teaching and research assistants, had become rare.

He had been delighted when he had received the E-mail request from Dr. Johnson. It was not the first of such letters he had received, nor would it certainly be the last. Sometimes they came in clusters, usually after the release of a new movie or a television special that involved time travel. Sometimes there would be long periods when no one would think about his project, leaving him to live only with his pain. Mostly letters came from dreamers, fools, or crack-pots. The time travel project, developed twenty years before, had never gone too far because of his illness, lack of funding, and potential pitfalls that theoretically could not be overcome. This letter would have been no different, except for the last line. After telling outlining what she wanted to do, and where she wanted to go, she added. I HAVE A MAP!

Further Internet research had revealed that Dr. Johnson was the creator of a project that had created a dynamic based web for human history. Just reading the brief sketches he found on the web site, he made a mental note to try to obtain a taped version of her original works. There might be potential here, but he would have to know more, both about what she had done and what she wanted to do.

* * * *

"I need to go somewhere in time. I need to go immediately." Her mood was terse, nervous, that of a woman who was not used to being turned down. "I want to go to Hawaii, early December 1941."

"Ah you want to warn them about Pearl Harbor. You want to save someone. A grandfather, an uncle, your mother's lost love. Sorry Dr. Johnson. I get five or six of those requests a year. It's a noble mission, but I can't send you there. It is too dangerous. Not only to you, but to this thing you call history. Even if I knew for sure that my time travel theory worked, I would never try something that big on a first try."

"You mean you aren't sure. Haven't you tested it?"

"Not publicly anyway. Not that I am willing to tell anyone about." She felt that he was sneering at her from behind his immobile face. "Why should I be willing to send you anywhere. You are a history professor, for gods sake, you are very, very dangerous."

It had been a long time since anyone called Ryanne Johnson dangerous. When she was younger she had been a top athlete, but ten years filled with books, classes and computers had produced a scholarly looking woman, tall, not quite thin, with long brown hair pulled into a pony tail and large glasses. She looked exactly like a college professor.

"I understand I am requesting travel to a historical cusp -- a very important time. Actions taken there could change the entire course of human history, but I can assure you that I PERSONALLY have no interest in changing history."

"They why do you want to go there, to that particular time and place."

"I need to see someone. I know he will be there. I know he IS there. As I told you I have a map. It can't wait. Please, can't I go just for a little while. A few hours. I promise I won't leave the beach. I won't talk to anyone in any of the armed services. I won't mention the words Pearl Harbor. I just have to go."

"And what makes me think I can trust you."

"If I do any of these things, I promise never to ask to travel again."

"If you do any of these things, I can assure you Dr. Johnson, you will never GET to time travel again."

* * *

The first sensation she had as she materialized was not the sun on her body, but the warmth of the sand on her bare feet. She looked down and saw that she had was not as she feared, naked, but was wearing the white bathing suit she had seen previously in WWII pin-ups. Dr. Lynch had one hell of a sense of humor.

She had been to this beach two or three times before in her life, but never had she seen it without the crowds and hotels. It was truly lovely. A few sunworshipers, a few sailors in white uniforms, a few darkly tanned surfers. . .

And then she saw him. He was riding a wave with two other larger men, wearing this blue loincloth for a bathing suit. His pleasure and joy were reflected in his entire being. She had never seen anyone look so happy. Bliss was the word that crossed her mind.

'Yet, he has to know.' She thought to herself. 'He has been to the future. He knows what is about to happen. Two men cannot make that big of difference.' And then she faced an even more chilling thought 'What if they were successful?'

Wars were horrible. This war was one of the worst. Yet the things it produced. The changes it brought to the future. This wasn't cleaning a wound, it would be . . .

Her thoughts were interrupted by a wave, carrying the blond surfer to the shore.

"Wow." He looked right at her. She wondered if he recognized her from when the met in the future, and thought that she was beginning to sound like a character in a sci-fi movie. But then, she had been there before, hadn't she.

"Where did you come from, you beautiful Goddess? I never would have gone out to ride the wave, when I could have experienced more pleasure looking at you on shore."

She shook her head and began to walk away. The little man did have a certain charm about him, but it was a charm that could easily be mistaken for madness.

"Please don't walk away. I want to buy you a drink. I want to get to know you. I want to worship you."

She opened her mouth to say, 'And I want to be alone.' When she heard instead. "Sure why not, this is my vacation."

They sat on a reed mat and drank intoxicatingly sweet drinks out of coconut shells. She felt the warm sun on her skin and actually saw it turn brown, while not the least bit concerned with UV Rays, protective sunglasses, or skin cancer.

She was quite certain that he had no knowledge of whom she was, would be, or had been, they continued with the conversation of two young people who had just met on a beautiful Hawaii beach.

Strangely enough she began to feel herself attracted to him. When their hands touched . . . maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the sun. She felt weak, but followed him wordlessly when he took her hand and led her to a cabana at the very edge of the beach.

He began to kiss her. This could not be. Not only was she married, she was also the wife of his best friend. 'That doesn't make much sense, does it?' She thought to herself. If she could have married Drake Johnson, knowing she was actually the wife of . . .'oh forget it Ryanne and just kiss him back. You will know when to stop this.'

Either she didn't know, or she just didn't stop. She wondered what the physics professor would think if he knew his first successful time transportation had resulted in the subject getting laid on the sands of Hawaii. She just hoped it would make him feel as good as she felt now. The blonde haired man was not going to let her stop with one orgasm. . . as much as she wanted just to sleep, he was. . . .

She awoke to find herself modestly wrapped in a towel. He was standing over her, running his fingers though his unkempt curly blond hair, a smile beaming from his face.

"That was good. You are wonderful. You . . ." He beamed down at her.

She realized that she had sixty years of human sexual liberation working on her side, compared to the women he had been bedding on this beach the last few weeks. He had over two thousand years experience. It better be damn good.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even ask you your name. Or for that matter tell you mine. I am Les, Lester Brown. And you are?"

"Serena, Serena Johnson." She used her real first name.

"Oh my God!!" The joy on his face turned to pure horror.

"It's an odd name. If you don't like it you can call me Ryanne. Most everyone does."

"I'm so sorry, so sorry. Please forgive me. I got to go. Please stay here, just give me a hour. I'm so very, very, very."

"Stop groveling. It wasn't your fault. I knew who you were, so it was my fault. Just go get him. Right now. I'll wait."

* * *

Les was still in a groveling form when he reached the hotel room. His friend and roommate, Tom Dorsey, was sitting at the rattan desk spinning the wheels on a German enigma decoding device. (Yes, this time they had taken the names of big band leaders.)

"I'm sorry. I'm so very, very, sorry. "

"What is it now, Les? Can't you see I am busy. I just got today's messages and need to get them decoded. You know what is going to happen in less than a week. "

"I'm really sorry." He realized Les was not talking about the catastrophic events that would bring about the United States entry into World War II. "I am just so sorry, I can't believe it. But you have to come with me, NOW!"

"Now, as in right now."

"Yes, I am sorry. You have to come with me. Serena is in a cabana, on the beach."

Les noted the look of amazement on his friend's face. A look he had seen many times over the centuries. "Are you sure? And if so, why are you so sorry?"

"I am really sure, Herc, really, really sure. And I am sorry, because I just fucked her."

He expected his legs to be knocked out from under him and to feel his body crash to the floor. Instead he felt two huge arms gathering him to his chest and smelled the fragrance of pressed rayon mingled with male sweat.

"You did you little devil. And was she good."

"She was the best. But she wants you!!"

"Damn him! 'Whatever you are guiding me life. This is the worst one yet. Here I am at one of the true cusps in human history, you have me working on coding devices to PREVENT the codes from being deciphered, and now you send my WIFE here. Not only that, but for the first time in centuries, she knows who I am, and wants me. But first she FUCKS my best friend. What do you take me for? This is so . .'" He just silently followed his friend to be beach.

* * *

Ryanne sat silently in the cabana and tried to formulate how she was going to explain things to her husband. Not Drake Johnson to whom she had lied when she pledged all those things on her wedding day, knowing that she was already truly married to another, but realizing that the child she was carrying needed a father. She knew they should put warnings on liquor bottles that too much consumption could lead to unwanted pregnancy. Drake would understand, if she ever decided she would tell him. It was Hercules she was worried about.

Given the restrictions Dr. Lynch's had put on her visit to 1941, only for eight and only on Waikiki beach, she at first had thought it was impossible for her to even connect with Hercules. She had even thought about sticking a message in a bottle and burying it in the sand, in hope that he might find it within the next week and at least know she had been there looking for him. It was only when she saw his friend and traveling companion that she had worked out the easiest way to get him to come to the beach, but it was, she admitted slightly risky.

The look on his face when he opened the cabana door was one of total disbelief and amazement combined with the glow of love and sexual excitement. The man she would know in the future was usually somewhat shy when it came to sex. She remembered that first night when he had taken her on the tour of his apartment, and she had suggested to him that they test drive his new king sized bed. It had been tequila that night. She was beginning to detect a pattern when it came to alcohol and sex.

He was wearing white cut off shorts, a classic Hawaiian shirt and one of those silly straw hats with the unfinished ends sticking out in a fringe. He looked totally ridiculous, and totally hot and desirable.

"I'm sorry." She began.

He put his finger to his lips for her to hush. "I've heard that phrase enough for one day. I got his message. He was worried you wouldn't find me with the parameters he'd set for you. Believe me if Iolaus hadn't come back in another half hour, I would have come looking for you."

"What you knew I was here? How?"

"I got a message on my enigma machine." She remembered watching a PBS special on those complicated, but not complicated enough, German coding device. Given his fascination with computers in the future, it only made sense.

"Who?" Again she saw his finger go to his lips.

"Later, first if we only have five more hours, I think we better take care of first things first." He grabbed her and they began kissing.

Writers and historians have often speculated the possibility of humans to travel though time, to return to critical moments, with what they know now and try to make changes for the better. Here she was, Dr. Serena Ryanne Johnson, creator of what was known as the "History Web" at just such a juncture, and she was spending her eight hours having sex with two different men in less than three hours. In the brief moments of recovery, she even thought about it, a little.

Perhaps she should have waited until they finished this assignment, but she wasn't sure how long that would be. Sometimes, especially after visits to important times like this one, they would not appear for weeks or months. She often wondered where they went, or if there were other realities, other histories, that she did not yet know about. She had waited a long time, and was not sure she wanted to wait any longer.

"I think, Serena, that if we maybe take an hour to talk, the next few hours will be even better. What do you think?"

She nodded her head in agreement, not really sure, but willing to listen to what he was going to say.

"And, I think it would be better if Iolaus joined us -- for the talking that is -- so we are all are on the same wave length when it comes to what IS happening."

"Iolaus." She had forgotten all about him. "Where is he."

He opened the cabana flap and indicated to the blonde man sitting at the top of a dune, to come over. "He's doing his penitence. Going to have a lot more to do in the next few decades." He laughed.

There was barely enough room for the three of them to sit cross-legged on the floor of the cabana. All three wanted to see the looks on each other's faces, as this story played out.

"Who wants to go first? How about you Serena?"

"Honestly Herc, I don't like that name. I know it is MY name, and the name of the woman you believe I am. But only my mother calls me that name. I would feel a lot more comfortable if you called me Ryanne."

"O-kay. I guess." He replied somewhat sheepishly.

"And I think you need to go first, Herc. I know who I am, but I don't know who this Serena is, other than being your wife. I think you two are going to have to tell me about me. If this is who I really am."

"Serena was my wife, but only I only knew her a short time. She was a golden Hind, a mythical beast half woman and half deer. "

"Gee, that's an attractive thought. Might explain where I got my speed from, but I am not even going to think about my butt. Most women do not relish the idea of being told they are part animal."

"You asked for this story, Ryanne," Herc smiled at her. "I think the animal part is pretty essential to who you are. You had horns and hooves of pure gold and your blood could kill a god. One day in a rage Zeus killed all of the hinds, but one. You were the last of your kind.

"You allied yourself with Ares for your own protection. You were very deadly, but very valuable, both to men and gods. Hunters sought you all the time, so you became an expert archer. When we first met you accidentally shot Iolaus, but you also had the power to heal, and you risked being captured by coming to the village to heal Iolaus.

Hercules wasn't too good at telling stories, and this was complicated both logistically and emotionally. Ryanne was having problems visualizing a half woman/half deer coming into a village to heal Iolaus. Iolaus was having trouble with the whole store, he never liked Herc and Serena together. He hadn't been fond of Herc and Ryanne together either, but he was getting to like the woman who was sitting next to him. He wished that she didn't come with this baggage.

"You know, Herc, maybe you just ought to hit the high points, we only have a few hours. I never dreamed this story would be so complicated."

"It only gets more complicated, Ryanne," Iolaus said. "More and more and more complicated."

"But the essence is, that we were married, then you were murdered. There is a whole long story about my reaction to that which I will have to tell you at a later time. My reaction to your death was not good, I underwent a long period of mourning. Then one day, through a fluke of time travel. . .

"Even then, you were into time travel."

"Yes, and come to think of it Autolycus was involved then too."

"Never really thought about it before Herc. Do you think he might have switched the stones on you?"

"Wouldn't have put it past him, but I am trying to tell Serena about herself. I went back in time, to a time just after the hinds were killed, and convinced Ares to release your human side. He did, and you lost all memory of the things which never would happen to us. I guess it was my first healing mission, but the results were not good for me."

"Our paths crossed a few time, and I could never tell you that you were my wife. You had a husband, who I helped you find when he was lost at see, and a child. I had to let you go on with your life."

"I didn't have a husband and child when I met you back in Columbus, but I do now." She felt it was her time to talk. "That, however, is part of me, not part of some ancient story. I never figured out how I fit into this equation. The woman who fell in love with you, the woman who forgave you for a horrible deed, the woman who mourned when you died - - and you too Iolaus -- wasn't some mythical deer/woman she was ME!

"I had my power even before you came into my life. I was strong. I was smart. I was . . excuse me for saying it . . beautiful. Sure I was a little wacked out of shape because the pieces didn't exactly fit with what society wanted, but I was working on that.

"Meeting you and thinking about what you do, sent my life off on a new course. But it didn't give me any new powers. All that I have done, has come from what I AM. I am not the daughter of a god. I don't have the strength of ten men or women. . .

"You did have six million dollars." Iolaus looked at her and laughed. "The Six Million Dollar Woman."

"Sorry, forgot that. I guess I forgot to thank both of you for that. Nice number, was that your idea Iolaus?" He grinned.

"Right now I seem pretty certain that I never had ancient memories. Although there are some things that seem a little out of place. I could have played ice hockey at some state college in Wisconsin, I could have played field hockey, at which I was even better at almost any college, but I decided to go Ivy League. I took courses in Greek. So there might have been something, honestly I need time to think.

"If I am only going to be here a couple of hours, let me make a suggestion. I now have the ability to travel in time. You have the ability to travel in time. Let's set a date, time and place and we will meet and discuss my part in this great journey of yours and see where it goes from there."

"May 25, 1968. Millington, Michigan. We'll start off by going to a wedding. Then we can talk." Hercules said as if he had always known.

"I love weddings." Iolaus added. "Unless they are mine."

"Just one more thing. We only have two hours left, and I want to spend them.. .

"I know" Iolaus rose to his feet.

"No, you don't understand. Ryanne is different in a lot of ways from Serena, and this is a big one guys, I hope this doesn't blow it. But Ryanne would really like it if both of you stayed."

'Poor Herc,' she thought to herself. 'He's just never, never going to get the hang of twenty-first century women." She lay back, closed her eyes, and tried to figure out which man was kissing various parts of her body.

* * *

"How did it go Dr. Johnson?" The physicist asked when she appeared sitting in the leather chair in his office.

"Quite well. We didn't have a lot of time, but what little we had was used very constructively. My friends and I set a date to meet and work things out. Will talk to you later about that. I only have one question."

"You always have one question, Dr. Johnson. What is the one question this time?"

"Well, when I finally hooked up with the man I was going to see, despite all your crazy provisos, which could have gotten me into a lot of trouble. He said that he had received an enigma message that I was there. That he knew about the conditions you had imposed. That if he hadn't heard from his friend, Iolaus, who I ran into almost immediately upon arrival; he was coming after me. How could he have known?"

"Someone must have told him. Isn't that obvious."

"But the only person who knew I was going was you, and you had no idea why I was going to Hawaii, and you had no idea who I was going to meet. "

"What makes you think that? You realize that people contact me regularly and request that they be allowed to time travel. At first I made them fill out these long and complicated forms, before I would deny them of course, but it was fun to have the information. Why do you think I let you go?"

"Because I am a professor. A very successful professor."

"A professor whose life, despite all she has given to the world, is lacking the two things she craves most . . love and excitement. "

She smiled, thinking about the love and excitement that had been part of her day today. She was going to have to do a lot of explaining to Michigan State, her daughter and her husband.

"So you are going to join him?" He asked. Interrupting her thoughts.

"Join them."

"BOTH of them. You are a twenty-first century woman Dr. Johnson. I never dreamed Serena would. . ." She watched as the hand he never moved, reached up and stroked his chin, as though he was caressing a goatee. She watched as expression came to his previously unchanging face.

"You knew you deformed old goat. You knew all the time. Who in the hell are you anyway?"

She watched in amazement as the man before her began to stretch, first neck, then his arms, then his legs, before he leaped out of his wheelchair and on to the desk. Looking down he spread his hands and bowed to her. "The name, my dear Dr. Johnson, is Autolycus, but you may call me the King of Thieves. Welcome to the team."

McJude

September 2001

Yes folks, this was the story I completed just prior to 9/11/2001 -- I didn't see much future in continuing with this series of stories.

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