The Gate, by xangel

The Gate

by xangel

Archive NickZone only, please

Disclaimer: None of these characters are truly mine.

Rated: T

Pairing: Tom Andrews ("Lonesome Dove"), Dustin Yarma ("Kiss Tomorrow Good-bye"), Tom McLaren ("Vertical Limit"), Victor Mansfield ("Once a Thief") and a surprise guest.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

"I don't wanna talk to you anymore. I'm afraid of what I might say." Tom Andrews turned away from the large white-gold, pearlescent gates and their Gatekeeper.

Peter looked at his assistant who shrugged and tried to clear up the confusion. "Mr. Andrews, trust me, we haven't made a mistake. Yes, we know you were in prison. But we also, of course, know how you died. You deserve to pass through these gates into heaven."

Tom turned back. "Just don't seem right, somehow."

"We only made a mistake once, and that won't happen for another hundred years or so," said St. Peter.

His assistant whispered into his ear, Peter nodded, and his assistant stepped back. "Tell you what, Mr. Andrews. Why don't you stand here beside my assistant and watch the process. Then you can decide for yourself if we've made a mistake with you."

Tom looked past St. Peter, through the open gates. He didn't deserve heaven. But, well, maybe if there were others who had broken commandments who made it in... "Thank you, kindly. I'd appreciate that."

Tom stepped to one side, next to St. Peter's angelic assistant, and faced the long line of recently dead. They all looked like good, God-fearing people. They couldn't have been as wicked as he'd been.

"Dustin Yarma." The assistant read the next name off the scroll.

A handsome, expensive but casually-dressed man stepped forward. "Someone's made a mistake. I'm not supposed to be here! I was on my way to Malibu to do lunch with Sherry Lansing!"

St. Peter took a good, long look at him and nodded slowly. "You are quite correct, Mr. Yarma. You don't belong here. Murder, lying, adultery, you put your Hollywood producer career ahead of any possible ethics or morals." Peter looked at his assistant who made a notation on the list. Suddenly the ground opened up beneath Dustin Yarma and he fell through. Tom thought he saw a reddish glow far below, and shuddered.

"Tom McLaren," read the assistant.

St. Peter looked the young man over, noting the winter climbing gear and the rip in the jacket that looked like it was made with a knife blade. "Mr. McLaren. You were tempted by greed, but in the end were true to yourself and your companions whom you'd sworn to protect. Go in."

Tom watched Mr. McLaren enter heaven, and as he passed between the gates, exhaustion disappeared and he smiled, as if seeing perfection, whatever that meant to him.

Next up, yet another guy. "Victor Mansfield." Tom wondered momentarily if women had a different line to stand in, but shrugged off the thought as being sacrilegious.

St. Peter examined Mr. Mansfield, who appeared to be in late middle age and well-used. "Mr. Mansfield. More than fifty dead bodies to your credit. Betrayal of your fellow officers. Participated in missions involving torture, entrapment, and extortion. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Victor just shook his head, seemingly too tired to respond. Or too tired to care.

St. Peter's assistant made a soft comment to his boss, who gestured to let the assistant take this one.

"Sometimes the powers of good need to use methods that are of the Opponent. You have done well, warrior. Time for your well-earned rest. Enter." The Assistant gestured to Victor to enter the gates.

As if unaware of the magnitude of the decision, Victor moved slowly forward and through the gates. Once past, he stopped. Then spun around, a smile on his now much younger face. All the pain and exhaustion were gone. Then he froze, eyes fixed on something or someone inside. With a shout of joy, he dashed forward and out of sight.

Tom thought about that litany of laws, God's laws, that Victor had broken, yet he was welcomed in heaven. Well, maybe it was right for him to go there. He had tried to be better, once he got out of prison. "Sir? I'm ready."

With a smile, St. Peter gestured, and Tom Andrews entered the gates of heaven.

Behind him, Peter and his assistant watched as Tom became the carefree, happy young man he could have been had things turned out differently. "Always nice to see them realize it's not just an accounting list, Sir."

St. Peter smiled at his assistant. "You taught me that. You were my one mistake. Page after page of the evil side of the ledger was filled with your actions, so I was convinced you belonged where that producer went. It took my boss to make me realize that while it appeared you were working for His Opponent, you were one of His undercover operatives. Deep cover at that."

"And now I'm your assistant. Who says we don't get punished in heaven?" Archangel Alex Krycek joked.

St. Peter buffeted Alex on the shoulder, then turned his attention back to the never-ending line of newly dead. "Baines!"

The End

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★