One of the long white neon tubes lining the hospital's ceiling was about to die. A slight hissing and popping noise provided a quiet counterpoint as it blinked on and off. The rest of the hallway was fine. It was just that single tube that disrupted the harmony of the sterile hallway.

Further down the corridor, an elderly janitor stood near a rolling water bucket and waved his mop with negligent care. Next to the bucket stood a short sign reading 'Caution: Wet Floor'. In a few minutes he'd move that sign and start his favorite section of floor. The bit outside the nursery window.

Jeff O'Rordan had been working at Mercy General for almost thirty years and still volunteered for Maternity Cleanup at the staff meetings every week. The rest of the maintenance crew was more than happy to leave him to his job. Women jacked up on hormones and in vast amounts of pain were *never* a fun thought. Jeff didn't mind. His opinion on the subject was that they were entitled to a little emotional release. After all, they were helping life along, right?

So, Jeff was the one who ducked flying objects, calmed the occasional first-time father, and mopped up more birth fluid than any man should be forced to imagine. He'd also been here in the maternity ward longer than any other staff member. He'd watched the coming and going of doctors, nurses, and interns with an interest that was negligible at best. Doctors and such meant more work. The mothers did too, but for him this last bit of floor was worth it.

Smiling slightly, he dropped his mop in its bucket and wheeled them both towards the large picture window overlooking his workspace. The elderly man removed a second caution sign and placed it nearby. It was only then that he let himself look in at the new deliveries.

He could tell immediately that it had been a slow night. He'd figured as much when he'd only been directed to two of the four delivery rooms. There were only three babies in the short plastic cradles, and one of them had been there his last shift.

Jeff never paid any attention to the nameplates Labels came soon enough in life. These kids didn't deserve it from him so soon after birth. Let their parents pull those tricks on them. He was just a janitor who liked to marvel at the miracle of life. No, to him it was the faces that were important. Jeff liked to think that he remembered the face of every child born at Mercy General over his tenure. He knew that was a little farfetched, but he was an old man, and old men deserved their flights of fancy.

Jeff made a quick search of the nursery for Judy, the duty nurse. Finding her nowhere in sight, he figured she'd probably ducked out the back for a quick cigarette. He decided that when he'd finished this last bit, and if she was still out there, he'd join her. Judy was an out and out sweetheart. Skin color never mattered to her as long as he was willing to let her bum a smoke.

Smiling slightly, Jeff gazed warmly at his new kids. He'd overheard one of the young interns saying something about how babies couldn't see very far when they were this young. Jeff figured that explained why their eyes looked so fuzzy, but he took that idea with a little salt. ANOTHER intern back in '65 had said with just as much eager belief that using forceps was always safe. He'd seen some heartbreaking evidence against *that* certainty, so he was cautious. Besides, Jeff figured that even if the kids couldn't see all that far, they could tell if they were being watched. So, every shift, without fail, he'd come to look at the new crop of faces and wish them well in the world.

The large man waved an equally large work-worn hand at the tiny girl and his smile widened. Hopefully, the little blonde girl would be going home with her mom and dad soon. She'd been around for almost two weeks. Jeff knew the average recovery and release time was about that. She'd be starting a whole new adventure.

With a final finger waggle, he turned his large brown eyes on the two new additions. The one closest to the little blonde girl was a boy. From the looks of him, he was gonna be a handful. Jeff could almost hear his fussing from his side of the glass. Tiny legs and arms kicked and swung, swearing vengeance on a world that was not warm and close. A mop of dark brown hair crowned his head, and he stared out at his strange new world with eyes the color of a clear summer sky. Jeff chuckled.

"You're gonna be somethin', aren't you?"

White teeth flashed against dark skin. Yes, that little guy was gonna do his best to let the world he'd arrived. He'd also bet his month's paycheck that it had been that little guy's mom who'd bruised Dr. Johnson's cheek. Jeff figured if that was true, this little guy was gonna be in for one combative childhood.

But then, that was life, right?

Finally, he turned his eyes on the last arrival. From the color of the blanket, he could tell it was a little girl. He couldn't, however, make out much more than that. For some reason, Judy had put the little one off to the side where it was hard to see just what she looked like. Curious, he edged closer to that side of the window and squinted.

What he saw made his heart flip.

Inside the small, white cradle was a baby with shockingly black hair and the whitest skin he'd ever seen on *anyone*. She was also quite long for a baby. The top of her head missed the end of her cradle by only an inch or two, her feet brushing the bottom. Unlike his little blonde friend, she was wide-awake. But unlike the little boy, she wasn't fussing. Instead, she was looking around, as if trying to figure out just what was going on. But beyond her quiet demeanor and pale skin, the child's most shocking trait was her eyes.

Underneath gently curved raven-black eyebrows and hugely long eyelashes were indigo gems. Violently purple was the only phrase that came to mind. But, they weren't still or unfocused. They rolled every which way, taking in everything they could. Unconsciously, Jeff raised his hand and rested it against the glass separating him from the baby.

Hands down, this was the most beautiful child he'd ever seen.

"Her name's Sera."

Jeff's reverie was broken by the soft whisper that came from the area of his left shoulder. He snapped his head around, taking a quick step back. Standing in a space that had been empty just seconds before was a woman. She too stared fixedly into the large window, eyes fastened on the pale beauty lying just beyond.

"I don't mean any harm!" Years of reflex took over. He'd been lectured by the doctors and nurses, except Judy, about dawdling and bothering parents who were there to see their kids, not a big black janitor. "I was just lookin'!"

Surprisingly, the woman didn't start to yell or threaten to find a doctor and have him fired. Other parents had done that. Instead, she merely raised a pale white hand and smiled. Her own violently purple eyes only danced with amusement, not anger.

"It's okay." She said. Slowly, she turned back to consider the little girl in the white cradle again. "I know you're just here to see the babies. There's no harm in that, Jeff. In fact, I think it's really nice of you. Keeping watch over them this way."

Jeff had been slowly moving towards his bucket, just in case, when she spoke. Thoughts of mops, running, and cigarettes with Judy flew right of his head. How had she known his name?

"How did you-"

"Know your name?" She turned her huge eyes back on him. The little bit of his brain not wrapped in fear or confusion idly observed that the little one beyond the glass was gonna be one heck of a looker if she turned out like her mother. "Your name tag was a dead give-away."

Jeff blinked and looked down. Sure enough, his white plastic name-tag was pinned, as always, on the left breast pocket of his blue jumpsuit. It took him a minute to process that information.

"I was saying, her name is going to be Sera." A soft smile tugged at the corners of the pale woman's lips. Another contrast to her pale skin, her lips were a bright scarlet. Entranced, she raised her hand and laid it against the glass, an unconscious mirror of Jeff's previous position. "I've always liked it. It means wise."

"Oh." Jeff's eyes were locked on the woman. There was something... different about her. It was more than just the skin and the eyes. He'd learned a long time ago that you have to look beyond outward appearances. They were deceiving. "I didn't know that. It's a pretty name."

"Yeah, it is." There was something almost wistful in her voice. Every so slowly, the fingers of her hand started to stroke the glass. "I've always loved it. Ever since I was tiny. When I was six, my baby-sitter told me a story about a woman who let her jealousy blind her to what was really happening. She almost lost everything she loved because she just wouldn't take that last leap of faith. But in the end, she did. And everything worked out. Sort of."

The woman paused for a moment, her fingers still gently caressing the window. It was an odd picture. Jeff's mind was telling him to grab his bucket and signs and hightail it out of there, but his heart... Something was going on, something earth-changing, and he was receiving the privilege of witnessing it. One didn't question what God wanted you to see.

"She was the catalyst of something huge, Jeff. Because of her, history changed." She let out a soft chuckle. "Some say not for the better. But that doesn't matter. She still changed the course of the world."

"You're talking about Old Abraham's wife Sarah, aren't you?" The answer came in a flash of insight. Jeff could tell he was right by the slightly haunted look in the woman's eyes as she turned her head towards him again.

"Yeah. I'm talking about Sarah."

Jeff smiled then. For thirty years, he'd not known the mane of a single child that had gone through this ward. This time was important for them, and he hadn't wanted to alter it in any way. He only wanted the memory of their faces. But this little one was different. So was her mother. This moment and name were special. His preacher had always told him that everyone had a part in God's plan. Some how, some way, Jeff knew he was playing his part in that plan tonight.

"Then it suits her, Ma'am. She looks like a lady who'll change the world. She sure is pretty enough for it."

That brought a wider smile to the woman's lips. It was still gentle, a smile of benediction and decision, rather than mirth. "Let's hope so, Jeff." With that, she focused those beautiful eyes on her hand... and pushed it through the glass.

Right through. It didn't break or even crack. It was like it had just disappeared. Slowly and methodically, the woman climbed through and dropped lightly on the floor beyond. Jeff watched, his jaw resting against his chest, as she moved carefully over to the baby he had assumed was hers and lifted her gently into her arms.

It was only then Jeff noticed what the woman was wearing. She was draped in a floor length cloak that was most certainly *not* hospital issue. And, barely visible on the belt around her too-thin waist was a gun. One, from what Jeff could see, that had seen use. Too much use.

Horror dawning, the old janitor moved to the glass, knowing he had to do *something*. He wasn't sure what but-

And then the woman looked up again.

Her eyes were no longer purple. Instead, they were a magnificent, bottomless green. In them, he saw a wisdom and age that far out classed his measly sixty-four years of existence. It was like looking into the eyes of an angel.

Don't worry, Jeff. It will be okay.

It was as his brain registered the fact that the sentence had not been spoken out loud, rather into his mind that the woman raised her hand. She smiled slightly and waved.

Goodbye, Jeff. And thank you.

And then his world dissolved into purple light.

Jeff O'Rordan smiled as he set his mop into its bucket. This was always his favorite section of floor to work. It gave him the opportunity to see who else had joined the world. He wheeled his bucket over to the large picture window and peered in at the new deliveries.

He could tell immediately that it had been a slow night. He'd figured as much when he'd only been directed to only two of the four delivery rooms. There were only two babies in the short plastic cradles, and one of them had been there his last shift. He figured the other new arrival was probably in with his or her parents.

After waving at the little blonde girl who was probably going home tomorrow, Jeff turned his dark eyes on the baby in the next cradle. It was a little boy with brown hair and eyes the color of a summer sky. His arms and legs were working overtime, waving and kicking. Jeff could almost hear his fussing through the glass.

Smiling, he placed his large, dark hand on the glass in a silent salute. That little boy was a fighter all right. Jeff'd be willing to bet a month's paycheck that it was that little boy's mom who'd bruised Dr. Johnson's cheek. He'd win too. Smiling, he scanned quickly over the other empty cradles. Yep, it sure had been quiet last night. With a feeling of general well being, Jeff turned back to his mop and bucket and started on the floor.

That night, when he went to sleep, Jeff O'Rordan dreamed of water and the sky and of a little girl with purple eyes and pale skin who would change the world.

It was a miserable, horrible, no good night, and from Nathan Christopher Charles Summers Askani'son's point of view, improvement was nowhere in sight.

Sighing, the disgruntled man shot a few ferocious glowers at the large cluster of tents surrounding him. He was walking through the middle of camp covered head to toe in a voluminous rain skin doing his best to put off his oncoming task. For its part, the sky was happily off-loading bucket after bucket of water on his head, down his skin, and into his shoes. In said shoes, whatever space not taken up by water and his foot was jammed with mud.

Squishy mud.

To make things worse, it was his turn on munchkin duty.

He had been one of the first supporters of a rotating work-duty schedule. As he was official leader of the New Canaan Colony Caravan, said schedule had been duly approved and put quickly into effect. However, Nate had automatically assumed that BECAUSE he was leader, he'd be left out of the less desirable shifts. Such as kitchen and munchkin duty.

His friend, and second in command, Tetherblood, had taken great joy in correcting that misconception. The kitchen duty hadn't been so bad. Sure, his one flesh hand was peeling and dry from washing forty too many trays, but that wasn't any different than usual. But this... this was a lot different.

Munchkin duty meant actually having to probably pick one up. The idea was terrifying.

"Who are you?" He didn't recognize the woman. Admittedly, the caravan was a little too large for him to remember every face. From her bearing and dress, Nate had her pegged as a perimeter guard. The woman's cloak, boots, and gun holster appeared too well used for any other explanation. It was for those reasons, along with the silver Askani pendant around her neck, that he refrained from sounding the alarms.

From the tender look on her face as she gazed down at the bundle in her arms, Nate assumed that she was either just going on her shift and saying goodnight, or had just gotten *off* her shift and was coming to pick the child up for the night. He desperately hoped it was the latter. That meant one less kid for him to shield and worry about. Although, from what he could see, only about a dozen of the cradles were occupied. He hoped it would be a quiet evening.

"Are you taking your child to your tent for the night?" He pitched his voice low as not to disturb any of the children. Still, the woman's head jerked up quickly, her body automatically shifting into a defensive position. Nate nodded quietly to himself. Definitely a perimeter guard.

"It's okay." He held up his hands placatingly and stepped closer to into the dim tent lamp. "I'm here for crèche duty."

As he moved into the direct light, the woman relaxed slightly. Actually, her body seemed to completely untense. Now that he was closer, he could actually make out features instead of general outlines. Her hair was cut to chin-length and was almost completely black. A few tufts of white hair curled down her forehead, coming to rest against her cheek. She was tall for a woman, coming nearly to his shoulder. Quite an accomplishment considering he was just below two meters. While it was too dark for him to notice the color of her eyes, he could detect the faint outline of a solid black tattoo around one eye. However, her most striking feature was her chalk-white skin. Nathan had never met anyone so pale in his entire life. Even his mother, a fair-skinned redhead had nothing on this woman.

Over all, even considering her advanced age and obvious maternal position, there was just something about her that was downright attractive. Nate was suddenly very glad of the dim lighting and the large rain coat.

"Oh. It's you." Earthy but soft, her voice was quiet. With her free hand, she waved him closer. "No, I'm not picking this one up. This one's definitely a drop off."

Nate's spirits sank.

It was odd. For a moment there, Nate could have *sworn* there had been a flash of purple right before the woman had handed him the baby. Then again, he *hadn't* had all that much to eat tonight. It might have just been his stomach whining its protests.

A slight whimper coming from the bundle in his arms took his mind off those concerns. He never noticed the memory slide completely out of his head. Nate shifted the warm little body around to regard her face. Even in this light, it struck the young man how pale the baby was. The light skin tone was further contrasted by a shock of dark hair and the longest black eyelashes he'd ever seen.

The baby was fussing slightly. He did a gentle brush of her mind was shocked at the stubborn clarity already present. While it was true he'd never spent much time around babies, those he had encountered had been a lot older, and none of them had felt quite like this.

The little girl's mind was glowing a brilliant purple as pressing thoughts of singing and physical contact buzzed around it. The elemental impressions burned so brightly, it almost hurt Nate's mind eye to watch them. But they were *so* beautiful. Especially in their simplicity. There was a theme though.

The baby wanted to be sung to. NOW.

Well, if there was one thing Nate couldn't resist, it was a request from a beautiful lady.

"Well, hello, little one. I know my singing won't be that great, but it's better than nothing." A smile quirked Nate's lips. "Maybe."

Slowly, and with great difficulty the young warrior started a song. Not the one the woman had been singing, but one he vaguely remembered his own mother singing to him as a child. She'd done it nearly every night just before she'd tucked him in. Every so slowly, a smile grew on the man's face. For her part, the baby kept her hand firmly clamped on his finger and her eyes, color unclear in this dim light, focused on his moving lips.

Outside, the rain that had been plaguing the caravan for days slowed to a gentle drizzle and stopped. Inside, a warrior looking for a reason to go on found a new purpose. And a little girl drifted slowly off to sleep.