TITLE: Ooooo, I Need A Dirty Woman 3/13 SERIES: Dark Side of the Rainbow Bridge AUTHOR: Sappho413 ARCHIVE: Feel free, but I wanna know where FANDOM: X:WP, H:TLC PAIRING: Strife/Cupid, Herc/Iolus RATING: R (some parents are squicked out by gay folks and others by nudity) OC, POV WARNINGS: 1. Hope ya don't think of Iolus as a masculine fellow... 2. DeadStrife tm (thanks a lot script writers) 3. Possible Mary Sue, but I'm not sure. She isn't me, she's my Goddess. DISCLAIMER: Actual Gods and Monsters are public domain. So there! Herc and Xena characters belong to Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prods. Translation; We can dream, but hands off, dammit! NOTES: For those of you that don't know, Heracles, translated literally is Greek for "nursed by Hera" Flames will be cheerfully ignored or used to keep Asgaard burning. If you're looking for a Lexicon of the phrases the mystery goddess uses to describe things, go to http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~cherryne/mythology.html They're all equivalent term from her POV. SUMMARY: Hercules and Iolus are in for some company and a few surprises while Strife discovers a riddle of his own. Munin flew high above the Greek Midgaard, her sharp eyes seeking a certain foe of Strife's. She could feel the dead god eagerly observing her through the mirror Hades had left him and was glad. He had been spending far too much time watching Ares throne room and glaring at Cupid's temple of late. The inside of his lover's domain was shielded, and Cupid never came out, but brooding over his lack of visitors wasn't going to get him out of Hades. Why Strife's beloved gods had not visited him, she could not say. It was something she planned to investigate when she had time. The world inhabited by the Grekken-Aesir's mortals was rich in life, wild, as their Olympus was not. She smiled to herself, grateful for the black beak that hid her expression. She already knew where the quarry was, but she would "hunt" a little longer, both amusing Strife and keeping her pose intact, lest he suspect her true nature. Eventually she would tell him the truth, but not yet. Her borrowed black claws clutched a single arrow of gold, meant as a gift for some very special people. Iolus, the golden haired hunter lounged on Hercules' sweaty chest. It was good to have a demi-god for a lover, especially one as beefycakey as his HerkyWerky. He sighed complacently and snuggled down tighter against the bronzed body. "You know something?" The son of Zeus asked his hunter. "What, baby?" Iolus simpered back. "We should stop in at Phillippi and have a nice long bath." Hercules licked Iolus' ear lazily. "And a pedicure." Iolus squealed as he rolled to look his lover in the eye. "You mean it?!?" "Absolutely!" Herc grinned up at the suddenly energized blonde. "We're due for some time off." "Oh, baby, baby, baby! You are speakin' my language." Iolus hopped up from the post coital snuggle pile and started throwing clothes in the air. "You're shirt, my vest...um...pants...definitely yours, not enough purple..." Hercules rolled his eyes, grinning as he watched Iolus bounce about the campsite, then rolled to his feet to dress and help pack. After all, a wet hunter is a fun hunter. Munin grinned from her perch in an ash tree next to the bawdy couple's camp. While she could have enacted her business here, the overheard conversation stayed her claw. She listened and then struggled not to fall out of the tree in merriment as the two heroes headed for the city. She would have to blow her cover in order to infiltrate the city, but it would be worth it. Oh, would it ever. And she could always come up with another cover. Besides, she was tired of pretending to be a bird. The real Munin was long dead, she'd killed it herself the night of Ragnarok to keep it from alerting Odin of the intruding Greek wargod. While Odin's pet's skin had served her well over the years, she was tired of it. She was chortling to herself when she landed on the roof of the inn the travelers had chosen to patronize. She watched Hercules grab Iolus' ass as they passed into the tavern. It was more than time. Hiding herself carefully behind a stable, Munin took off her cloak of raven's feathers and ceased to be Munin. The homeless goddess looked down at her body. She was still shapely, still the loveliest of Asgaard, but somehow the satisfaction of that had faded since anyone who cared had died. Flitting around as a bird for ages had dulled neither her skin nor her eye, yet it brought her no pleasure. She sighed. What she really needed was to get good and laid. Strife's chin was on the floor as his mind stumbled on the concept. His bird was a bird! Erk! His bird was a chick! Erk! The raven was a woman. The goddess smiled slightly as she drew on the magical abilities of her golden necklace. Truly, it was worth the price she'd paid for it. She shifted into the shape of a comely young man, red bearded and of average height. Lovely and comfortable or not, her natural body wouldn't get her the access she wanted. Her eye color alone she retained as she called from her bauble the clothing of a travelling tinker and stepped from the bush. She'd felt Strife's surprised regard through the mirror. He'd ask questions when she returned, but it would be worth it. A snap shrank the Munin-skin cloak until it was a ball no bigger than her thumb and she hid it in her pocket as she trudged toward the inn. She tested out her manly voice as she entered the taproom. "What ho, Vinlord?" She called out, pleased when a deep accented baritone emerged from her throat. She hadn't lost her touch. Hercules and Iolus were already seated at a table near the fire. The innkeep looked up at her and smiled. "Good eve and welcome sir. What's your pleasure?" The goddess was pleasantly surprised. The taproom was clean and well lighted and smelled of roasting venison. She realized that she was, in fact, hungry for the first time in a hundred years. No more eating like a bird, she wanted meat! "Some of that buck, friend. Quick, quick. Jord smelled it two leagues ago and though it was the Einherjahr feasting in Valhalla!" She pulled up at the bar as the barkeep chuckled. "You don't sound like you're from around here." The voice from behind her was rich, not a surprising trait for the son of a god. She almost grinned. Her quarry was taking the bait. "No, friend, I am not." She whirled around to face the son of Zeus and made a show of swallowing quickly as her cornflower eyes traveled up to meet his. Hercules would have seemed large even among mortal northmen, but her response was faked. She assumed that his size would intimidate normal people on a regular basis, but for a goddess who had stared down Thor on a drunken bender, the demi god wasn't really all that. Certainly not so lovely as dear, dead Frey, though few were, Strife's Cupid perhaps. "A stranger here." She stammered for effect, then visibly rallied her spirits, noting that the hunter was shorter than her borrowed body by several inches. She reached out and pumped Hercules' hand heartily. "A traveler called Jord Njordsson." "Yard Neoretsin?" Iolus attempted it. She laughed and clapped the hunter on the shoulder. He staggered a little. "Close enough, little friend." She grinned. "Close enough. You should share Aquavit with me, that we'll be strangers no more. Lifewater make you taller, ja?" Hercules grinned at the scowling Iolus. "I'm not totally sure what you said, friend, but we'd be glad to have you join us." "'Honor is mine, friends." The jolly young man hopped off of the stool. "You have names also, Ja?" "I am Hercules, this is my shield-brother Iolus." The blonde nodded. "It is pleasure with you to meet." The big, red bearded man sprawled into a chair at the table. "Pleasure and honor as well for even in cold north we hear of the might of Heracles." Strife spit his wine all over the surface of the mirror and then stared, one pale hand over his mouth. "What?!?" Iolus sputtered. "Oh, uh, Hercules. Its pronounced Hercules." "Ja, Heracles. I know this." Iolus eyes bugged up to the size of dinner plates. The flame bearded man grinned uncertainly at his two red-faced table-mates. "I have said something wrong? Please to forgive. Your language still strange to me is. Backwards, like farting." Strife stared at the mirror with his mouth hanging open. His birdy had some talents, no question. He just hadn't realized that in addition to a stellar pair of tits, under those feathers there was a pair of cast iron testicles. "Don't worry about it." Hercules smiled at the stranger. "It must be difficult trying to speak a foreign tongue." "Harder than sucking down mountain." She pantomimed a skier. "Suck... Uh, Skiing? Yeah. Ok." Iolus stammered. "Innkeeper, how's that meat coming along?" Strife watched amazed as his little black bird made jolly conversation through the whole meal. It was a masterpiece of a con job liberally peppered with what could have been honest mistakes in foreign vocabulary but ended up being highly insulting remarks that went right over Hercules amiable but largely empty head. She was just finishing a "no shit there I was" story about a cow, a meadhouse and a vestal virgin, and had managed to suggest that the companions' mothers were the best known whores in three kingdoms without Hercules even noticing it. Oh, he and his bird were going to have words. He'd start with credit where it was due, and then they would discuss the black fluffy jacket. Hercules stretched, a satisfied grin on his face. Iolus just stared at him, glassy eyed. "Well friends, Jord must to the wet place." The tall man got to his feet. "I'm smelling like your whores in heat, no?" "What?!?" Iolus dropped his third mug of the evening. "Whores. You know, you ride on them." Iolus looked at the big man like he'd offered him a bite of half-dead weasel on a bun. The tinker just grinned back at him, seeming confused. Inside, the goddess fought not to laugh herself sick. "Whores, run very fast, pull cart to market? We have none in north, but you have here, ja? Jord has seen." "Horses, Iolus." Hercules said brightly and returned their new friend's smile. "Hey Jord. We were going to head to the baths anyway. Care to join us?" Iolus almost broke his neck shaking his head. "Ja, ja. Is good company to have when naked. Easier to get done." Iolus just rolled his eyes as the tinker went back to the bar to collect his things. "Why'd ya go and do that, Herc." Iolus pouted. "I was hopin' for a little session of 'Lord and bath slave', if ya know what I mean." "He's a stranger here from a far away land." Hercules frowned down at his lover. "It's our responsibility as Greeks to make him feel welcome." "Right." Iolus growled as he stomped off towards the baths. "Herc and Iolus, icons of Grecian whoresbrutality." Across the room, the goddess in drag grinned into her beard. She'd make herself very welcome, but if all went as planned, Hercules wouldn't be feeling quite as Greek as before she'd started when she was finished. Strife watched through the mirror as Hercules leaned back into the chest-deep hot water. The demi god had needed this more than he thought. Iolus entered the bathhouse and sat down on a bench by the steaming pool but made no move to take off his clothes. "What are you waiting for, sexy?" Hercules flirted. Iolus looked at the door, then back at his lover. He shrugged and slipped out of his pants and vest and into the steaming water. He was just about to go investigate exactly what was under that water when the door to the bathhouse banged open to admit Jord Njordson. "Jord is here!" The goddess grinned, digging a bottle out of her "pack". She laid her towel near the edge of the pool. "Having special treat for good friends." Ignoring Iolus half uttered protest, Munin emptied the bottle into the bath. It foamed up at once into a soothing frothy bubble and she slipped into it with a heart felt sigh of relief. There was no water left in Alfheim for bathing, and none in Hades either. She could keep clean with magic, but it wasn't the same. "Hey, that smells nice." Iolus commented after waiting to see if it turned him green. He shouldn't have been surprised. Frigga, queen of Asgaard had made this bottle, and Frey had stolen it for his sister after she'd returned from Niflheim with the Brisings necklace. Loki'd said she smelled like a Svartalfs' catamite, and not surprising considering what she'd done to get the necklace. "You like, ja?" She said, ruthlessly quashing memories of the past. For Asgaard, dead was dead. "Is good for skin." It was also excellent camouflage. While keeping up a stream of sociable banter, she began washing vigorously. Under cover of scrubbing her long red hair and beard, she liberated the golden arrow of gender preference alteration from where she had hidden it in her thick braid. Before they had finalized this plan, she had done quite a bit of research. This thing didn't just flip gender preference; it made the infected individual forget or ignore anything that didn't fit in with their new worldview. The only antidote was a second scratch from the same arrow. "Back washing help?" She looked to the companions. "In a circle is best, ja?" She allowed Iolus to maneuver them so that he ended up behind Hercules, while she was behind Iolus, and Hercules was behind her. Then she started scrubbing. She scrubbed and was scrubbed for several moments, waiting for the perfect moment. Eventually she had her chance. She reached around until the tip of the arrow was on Iolus side of Hercules and jabbed the son of Zeus in the thigh. "Ow." The demi god peered down at the bubbles. "What?" Iolus queried his lover, peering down as well. But the golden arrow was already hidden under the goddess' ass. It didn't matter if she got pricked, she knew the antidote. "Nothing." Hercules replied. Jord finished scrubbing Iolus back, thanked Hercules and pulled back to her side of the tub, stretching and yawning ostentatiously. If the arrow worked, she should just have time to make an unsuspicious exit before the fireworks had a chance to begin. A few more comments, broken by yawns and Jord Njordson announced he was ready to retire. "Long journey today. Even longer tomorrow. So, Jord go to bed. Get it up early." The goddess grabbed the towel by the pool and stepped out into it, concealing the arrow in a fold of the fabric. Iolus was too busy making cow eyes at Hercules to notice, and Hercules was beginning to look vaguely confused. "Honored to be naked with you." It was all she could do to make herself walk out, and the second the bathhouse door closed behind him, Jord Njordson ceased to exist, and a laughing naked Goddess wrapped herself in a Munin feather coat and flew away. Strife watched the place she had stood for several long moments before turning his mirror back to the dipshit duo in the bath. That was one seriously well-formed girl. In fact, he'd have wagered she was every bit as flawless as Aphrodite, and that shouldn't have been possible. They were going to have a very long talk indeed. The lord of Mischief watched the lovers just long enough to see the look on Iolus' face when Hercules said, "You know what I could really use? Another wife." Then he darkened his mirror and waited for his maidservant's return. He could afford to miss this part, the real fun would begin when the rest of the gods heard about Herc's lifestyle change, and the mirror would record all that happened in the meantime. Besides, this puzzle was rather distracting. Who or what had he invited into his house?