Disclaimer: "Beauty and the Beast" and the character Pascal andall the rest belong to Republic Pictures. No infringement isintended. Max and her ilk belong to me. That and all the rest of thelegal stuff. 'Nuff said.

Author's note: I write fic because I love Beauty and the Beast.The tunnel world is a magical place. Anything is possible there-- maybe even a cure for DM. Degenerative Myelopathy is a caninegenetic auto-immune disease that affects German Shepherd Dogs. Itcauses neurological problems, paralysis and eventual death. DM hasbeen compared to human MS, but dogs have no voice to express theirneeds. It's up to us to listen with other ears. The dog in this ficis happy because his human sees the value in his Life -- she workedwith all her heart to give him one more good day. She did that eventhough she knows the bad day will come. If only we all were sogenerous with those we love, then the world of Beauty and theBeast would be a reality.

This fic is based on a true story.

By the Rivers of Babylon

by Kayla Rigney

"Pascal, would mind if I just sat in here for a while?"

The pipemaster smiled with delight. He hadn't expected to see Maxbefore his shift ended; and here she was standing in the door of thepipe chamber. The smile faded when he got a good look at her face. Itwas dark and still in a way he'd never seen before. He quickly lefthis post and went to her.

"Of course, I don't mind, Max," he said. "What's wrong?"

"Mouse told me he was taught animals have no souls," Max replied.Up close she looked physically ill. "He said that most people thinkanimals are just animals. Is this true?"

Pascal didn't know what to say. He'd never owned a pet and franklyconsidered Arthur the raccoon a monumental nuisance.

"Well is it?"

"I… I don't know," Pascal stammered. His Max was so obviouslyupset and hurt that he was afraid the truth would only hurt her more.He lied. Big mistake.

Her violet eyes flashed fire. "I hate it when you lie to me," shespat. She crossed her arms and glared at him. "I never lie toyou."

"I know, Max," he said, quietly. "It's a reflex." The pipemasterput his "tappers" under one arm, and offered his upturned hand toher. "I'm sorry."

Max extended her arm and softly tapped his open palm with herindex finger. My heart hurts, she coded.

"I can see that," Pascal replied, gently encircling her fingerwith his fist. "Do you want me to answer your question now?"

"Yes."

"Max, I don't know how it is Above," he said. "But, here, yes,animals are just animals -- even Arthur. Human survival comesfirst and that's the way it is."

"Well, that's just asinine," Max said. "No soul is more valuablethan any other."

"I didn't say it was a matter of value. I said it was a matter ofsurvival."

Max was very still. She obviously didn't understand. In spite ofher seemingly vast knowledge of the ugly side of human history (andher desire to prevent it), Pascal realized she couldn't graspthe simple reality of it. When reality gave her nightmares, Max sangto the moon.

She stood with her eyes locked on his for what seemed an eternity.Finally she broke the silence and asked, "Is that how you feel,Benjamin Pascal?"

"No," he replied, realizing for the first time exactly how hedid feel about the subject.

"You don't?"

"No," Pascal told her, shaking his head. He smiled from deepinside.

"Why not?"

"I met someone in the park once," he began and then stopped. "Max,I don't know how to tell you without sounding a little crazy," hesaid. "In fact, I've never told anybody before."

"Just tell it," she said.

The pipes suddenly went wild. Every message demanded a relay. Thepipemaster did nothing.

Max smiled at him.

Still standing holding only her finger, Pascal lost himself in along-ago memory. "You know I rarely go Above," he began. Max nodded."Well, maybe this stands out because I am so sheltered; but Isee it like it was yesterday."

"What?"

"That day," he replied. "Maybe it was a Sunday. I know itwas around Yom Kippur, because my uncle Bram was really on mind. AndI went Above to the park just because that's where I remember himbest."

Max moved closer until they stood toe to toe. Pascal could feelher warmth.

"I walked out into this really amazing fall day. It so was crispand cold and perfect. I could almost taste the perfection ofit all." The experience of the day came down solidly to him. Hewanted so much to pull Max into his memory. "I just stood at thetunnel entrance and tried to drink it in. Do you know what Imean?"

Yes, I do, she coded inside his hand.

"I stood there for a long time," he told her. "I just let the daysurround me, like you surround me." He felt her smile. "And suddenlythis dog just appeared in front of me. I mean, one second itwasn't there and then poof it's just there, like magic." Thepipemaster laughed because the animal had been so abrupt. "And Icould see it wasn't any ordinary dog."

"How could tell?" Max's eyes were not so hurt now. They had thatsoft look he saw only when they were alone.

"Well," Pascal said. "For one thing, it was a German Shepherd, andI wasn't afraid. I'm usually afraid of large dogs. And for another hewas in a cart."

"A what?"

"A dog wheelchair."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No," he replied. "I'm not. "

Pascal could see that Max was enchanted. He sensed a deepunderstanding in her touch. "So what happened?" she asked.

"This dog looked into my eyes and smiled at me," Pascalreplied. Normally, he felt uncomfortable even thinking about thisstory, but now he only wanted to tell the joy of it. He found hisvoice and went on, "I mean in one instant this dog knew me. Hecould see I was happy and he was too, and he smiled. That part Iknow, and that part was real. It's what happened next that I can'texplain."

Max seemed to be drawing the story out of him using only herendless eyes.

"Max, I swear the dog spoke too me."

She looked startled but not unaccepting.

"He said jahgshe."

"Jahsghe?" she asked.

"That's what it sounded like, anyway," Pascal replied. "I heard itinside my head." He felt rather silly telling her this. "The dog saidjahsghe and went away."

Max didn't say anything. She just looked at him with her violeteyes.

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?" the pipemaster asked. "You thinkit didn't happen and I'm nuts."

"No," Max said, slowly. "I don't think you're crazy. In fact, Ibelieve you."

"Really?"

"Yes, I do," she replied and was silent.

Normally, Max was a very easy read. Pascal could take one look ather and tell exactly what she was thinking. Tonight, he couldn't. Itwas as if she was trying to decide to tell him something he wasn'tsupposed to know; and she wasn't at all sure if she should break therules.

The pipes were tearing at him. He knew he'd either have to go backto them or call Kip in to cover. "Max?"

"Yes?"

"What are you thinking?"

She raised one eyebrow and smiled at him. "Jahsghe, "shesaid. Soulmate, she coded.

"Is that what it means?"

"That's what I mean," Max replied. Her eyes were deep andvery still. Pascal could get lost in those eyes.

"If it makes a difference, I believe the pipes have a soul, aswell," he told her.

"Speaking of which," she said. "You need to get back to work."

The pipemaster didn't budge. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her."Are you all right?" he asked, softly.

"No," Max said, touching his face. "But I'm better."

"Good."

"Hobbit, it only takes one voice." Her implication wasclear.

"I know that," Pascal replied. He wanted to tell her that hewasn't as strong as she was, but he couldn't bring himself to say itout loud. Unless pushed, the pipemaster tended to go with the flow --even when the flow was wrong.

Max put her hand against his chest and gave him a gentle shove."Go back to the pipes," she said, smiling her special smile. "Theywant you."

"And what about you?" Pascal asked. "Do you want me,too?"

Her eyes sparkled when she said, "Every minute of every day."

"I'll see you later," he called, laughing. "Count on it."

It took every ounce of his strength and skill to get the line backon track. It was a wild night.

Before Pascal went to Max, he found Mouse and told him the crazystory. Strangely, it didn't sound so crazy the second time around. Itsounded like proof. Just because a belief is ingrained doesn't makeit right, Pascal thought. Besides, he knew what he knew; and he knewthat dog had a soul.

Max was already in bed when he finally made it back to theirchamber. She'd fallen asleep reading The Origins of Nazi Genocide: From Euthanasia to the Final Solution. Pascal gently took thebook from her hands and set it on the bedside table.

"Great bedtime story, Maxine Louise," he said, stroking her cheekwith the back of his hand. "No wonder you have nightmares."

She stirred and mumbled something about forgetting Burleigh at theoffice.

The pipemaster changed into his nightshirt and quietly slippedinto bed. In her sleep, Max moved to him and settled into his arms.He held her loosely, reveling in her steady breathing against hischest. Pascal knew he was a very lucky man. He'd had two perfectmoments in his lifetime. This was the second one.

As he drifted into sleep, the pipemaster wondered what the dog hadreally meant. Maybe he'd simply shared his happiness in the day andthat was all. Or it was more? Pascal thought it was more. It remindedhim of that old song Narcissa sometimes sang late at night. So manylayers, so many voices.

By the Rivers of Babylon

Where we sat down

And there we wept when we remembered Zion.

As Max pointed out, it only takes one voice. And every word meanssomething different to every soul who sings it.