Title: Learning the Trade

Author: Corona Nova

Series: Discworld/Xena

Rating: PG

Genre: Humor/Crossover

Pairing(s): N/A

Spoilers: N/A ( I think)

Disclaimer:Everything Xenerish belongs to whoever makes it I'm just using them, everything discworldish belongs completely to Terry Pratchett.

Summary:Death offers Joxer a job.

(Paraphrased and borrowed)

"Death comes to all of us. When he came to Joxer, he offered him a job...as his assistant..."

Joxer was very faintly aware that he was laying in the dirt, the last few seconds a hazed blur being smothered by smarter parts of his subconscious. Great just great, booted out of Xena's camp for accidentally dropping most of their stuff in the fire, then being waylaid by bandits and having to fight them off with branches and a rocks. Now he was laying in the dirt with absolutely no idea how he got there. Something was poking him in the ribs. He opened one eye, he promptly shut it again, it was either that or scream like a woman. Oh yeah, now he remembered why he was laying in the dirt. There was a sound that was vaguely reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard, he soon discovered it was impossible to scramble away and pretend to be dead at the same time. The sound came again, he had the feeling it was supposed to be a polite cough.

"PLEASE FEEL FREE TO GET UP ANY TIME" he responded with a slightly restrained whimper.

"ANY TIME AT ALL" then something which could have been a sigh. He pried both his eyes open and looked up. The urge to scream like a woman was still very much an option. The figure was calmly tapping his fingers on his scythe. The effect would have been slightly better if the fingers had skin, or blood, or anything remotely living. Joxer blinked.

"Hn" Death grinned at him, then again he supposed there wasn't much else a skull could do.

"Urgh" he offered finally.

"INDEED" Joxer sat up and considered several heroic ways to deal with the situation, he paused for a fraction of a second and screamed like a woman. Another sigh, more tapping, after running out of breath for the second time he stopped.

"IS THAT IT" Joxer nodded

"WONDERFUL" a long skeletal hand was offered to him. He stared at it, his brain had shifted gear, it was working on the same mental processes which tell small fluffy creatures to run, eat, mate and jump off cliffs. He stretched up a hand, it felt disturbingly like grasping a handful of sticks, very strong smooth sticks.

"I'm dead" he decided. The eye sockets regarded him in a slow contemplating manner.

"NO" he said simply.

"Dying?"

"NO"

"Hallucinating" Death considered this.

"OF A SORT" Joxer shifted from one foot to the other.

"Er" Death patted around his robes, pulled something out, stared at it.

Joxer saw the faint twinkling of sand before it was shoved back in.

"WELL BOY ARE YOU COMING OR NOT?" it wasn't a question so much as a command.

The blue light inside the eye sockets wavered, Joxer got the impression of a long slow blink.

"Coming where? You said I wasn't dead" he tried to step back but found his progress hindered by a tree and some rather vicious branches. It wasn't so much an escape as a backwards sprawl.

"I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION YOU DESIRED EMPLOYMENT" Joxer scuttled away from the tree and found himself staring Death in the eye socket.

"A job! me? Er you do know who I am don't you" another blue nimbus blink.

"JOXER" there was brief fishlike gaping.

"But you want to employ me?"

"INDEED" Joxer couldn't help it, he laughed.

"Why?" Death proceeded to tap his fingers again and sighed, the trees visibly wilted. Death shrugged, it was quite an expansive shoulder movement since there was no muscle in the way. Joxer figured this was probably a good time to take a long hard look at his life options.

"Er the skinless thing?"

"OPTIONAL" Joxer nodded

"Ok" Working for Death, he briefly wondered if it was a good career move, he was supposed to be a warrior after all.

A rustling to his left brought his attention back to the forest at large.

Two rather irate figures burst through the bushes.

"Joxer I thou-" Xena had her sword up in seconds, Gabrielle continued to gape right before letting loose a banshee-like shriek and folding up like an old accordian. Death peered at Xena's sword, the warrior princess was trying valiantly to pretend the end wasn't wobbling slightly.

"Thanatos?" she offered quietly. Death made a brief noise of amusement.

"AH THE LITTLE ONE, OF THIS PLACE" Xena frowned

"And you're what? Death of the whole world?" Death grinned

"ALL WORLDS" he said simply. Xena controlled herself beautifully, she took one step back, the sword point was now trembling.

"Joxer, get over here" he looked from one to the other. Death didn't say anything, he merely stood there.

"Joxer!" she snapped. Death turned slowly and wandered through the brushes in the direction of an impatient whinny. Joxer froze for one second between them, looking from the crumpled form of Gabrielle to the retreating black robe. With a strangled noise of regret he trotted after Death, leaving Xena to stare in his direction calling his name but reluctant to actually go after him.

Joxer found Death patting a large white horse, the huge head turned in his direction and sniggered in a very unhorse like manner. Joxer reached out a hand and petted it absently.

"BINKY" Joxer jumped, hard to get used to a voice that was like a waterfall of wet gravel.

"huh?"

"HIS NAME IS BINKY" Joxer gaped for a minute

"Binky?" the slow blink again,

"Ok that's a good name" Death mounted, Joxer stared up for a second before scrambling up behind him.

"So what do we do? Go kill people" Death shifted around on the saddle until one eye socket was level with Joxers nose.

"I DO NOT KILL PEOPLE" he said slowly. He swiveled round just as quickly while Joxer was still trying to remember how to breathe.

"NO FIRST LUNCH, I COULD MURDER A CURRY" Joxer frowned

"What's a curry?" Death sighed

"OH DEAR" Joxer was about to speak again when the ground abruptly disappeared, his face was briefly mashed into a very sharp shoulder blade and three thickness of cloth.

"Er Cower...nope...(coughing)...Cower...damn it" well this was embarrassing, for a start, without his armour Joxer discovered he was a hell of a lot smaller. The hood kept falling over his eyes, the scythe was a bugger to keep out of the mud and he was wearing sandals. I mean sandals?! He sighed, the voice was the hardest, he'd done it before, in the bathroom when he'd tripped on the soap. He knew he could do it, he just couldn't at the minute.

"Cower...oh cower damn you" he sighed and scratched his forehead with the scythe handle, well this was just great. Without the voice he was just a really thin monk with a gardening implement that happened to be really sharp. At least he could wander around the battlefield without being sliced and diced. No one seemed to want to see him, like he wasn't even there.

"Cower...arrgh damn it...cower...cower..."

"Who the hell are you?!" he spun, spinning in the mud in sandals had a particular knack that Joxer had yet to master. He flopped ungracefully forward and heard a loud thunk.

"OW" the hood slid back to allow the full desperate shock of what he'd just done show on his face.

"Ar...ar...A....ess." Joxer had a brief moment to contemplate that an angry God of War holding his nose was not something he should have lived to see. Being the instigator of said injury was only about a million times worse.

"Ooops" he said faintly. Ares dropped his hand and gave Joxer a look which spoke of many horrible icky things.

"You!" the word was ice, only colder, icy ice. He unconsciously held the scythe in front of him for protection and against all laws of reality Ares took a step back.

"Where did you get that?" it wasn't a command, more wheezy shock. Joxer's first instinct was to hand it over and run away. Then small tendrils of common sense took over.

"It's a scythe, I'm er Death's apprentice" Ares blinked, rapidly, for a brief second he looked like he had the IQ of a four year old, then he seemed to pull himself together.

"You?"

"Me" Joxer said softly

"Death's apprentice??"

"Yes" Ares looked halfway between laughter and shock.

"I'm working on the voice" Joxer squeaked

"Voice?" Joxer shuffled around for a second.

"Yeah the er...loud one" Ares frowned

"Loud one?"

"That makes people do stuff" The trembling fear was still there, he could feel it zipping along his new nerve endings.

"Stuff?"

"Yeah like...KNEEL" he had just enough time to gasp in exalted surprise before Ares inexplicably dropped to his knees in the dirt.

The first thought to enter his head was 'Oh wow' the second was slightly more useful, 'He's going to kill me'. Ares was blinking, not in a nice 'oh look I'm kneeling way' but in a 'As soon as I get out of the mud I'm going to break you into tiny pieces'.

"I'm sorry" Joxer whispered, wary of doing even more damage, Ares was pretending to study the dirt beneath him, looking up every so often to give Joxer a sharp look.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think It'd work on you" Ares glared

"Of course It works on me idiot, it's pure command," he spat, lowering his voice slightly he dragged Joxer down by the collar of his robes.

"Even Gods have instinct" Joxer had stopped breathing as soon as he got close enough. Ares was trying to peer around his shoulder but no one seemed to have noticed. Joxer turned too, scythe whirling in a dangerous arc. Ares suddenly decided it was a damn good job he was kneeling, it was such a pain in the arse to try and reattach a head.

"And stop doing that!" Joxer's limbs came to a sort of droopy attention.

"Sorry"

"Have you finished?" though it was impossible to tap a foot when you were kneeling Joxer got the distinct feeling Ares would be doing it. One large hand grabbed his collar and yanked him back down to eye level.

"Then let me up!!" Joxer swallowed and nodded rapidly.

"Oh right yeah, sorry, you can get up now" the scythe was once again dragged protectively in front of him as the War God rose. It would have been unseemly for Death's apprentice to make a small eeping noise in pure fear.

Joxer tried not to, he really did, Ares reached a hand out, then appeared to think better of it and let it drop. Joxer hopped around on a foot.

"I'm sorry"

"Hmm" was the only reply.

"Really sorry, I really didn't think it would work on you"

"Hmm"

"Oh well I better Y'know go and..." he made a brief swishing motion with the scythe, Ares glared but said nothing. Joxer retreated slowly and carefully, trying to coax his feet into a faster step which resulted in his robe getting dragged in the mud. He lifted it to his knees, then looked down,

blushed and dropped it. He got quite far, almost to the large tent made up between some trees before he was stopped.

"Where are you going?" the scythe was yet again used as a warding device.

"I've got to..." he pointed vaguely in the direction of the tent and then pulled a gold egg timer out of the folds of his robe, waved it vaguely in Ares face.

"I'm supposed to, it's my job" he took a deep breath and then let it out, he was important now, he didn't have to cower anymore, or run away like a naughty child.

"Not in there you're not" Joxer peered from the tent to the God.

"Er it's not something that can be stopped, it's er fate or something" Ares raised a brow and grimaced.

"We'll see about that" before Joxer could protest his arm was gripped and he was propelled in the direction of the tent.

"We can't" he said quickly, panicking, he'd been told, you couldn't, it screwed up everything.

"It can't be done it's not allowed" Ares merely tugged harder. The flap went up and Joxer gave a strangled yelp.

A figure dressed in black was hit in the face with the flap, went sprawling backwards, crashed into one of the poles, his foot got stuck in a fruit bowl and finally flew backwards leaving a eerily human sized hole in the fabric. The sound of scuttling faded into the forest.

"An assassin?!" Ares shook the now rather limp Joxer

"Was he after the General?" There was shouting outside, the sound of people running in directions which made very little sense.

"The General they've killed the general"

"What?!"

"He's dead, assassinated" three guards ran into the tent, progress halted slightly by the sudden appearance of Ares holding a bedraggled figure muttering about fate.

"My Lord, we heard the General was killed" Ares raised an eyebrow. A battered and bruised figure raised himself from the wreckage, plumed helmet obscuring his eyes. Patted himself down and stood shakily. He wavered faintly, coughed out some wall plaster.

"Actually I feel alright now"

"You see" Ares pointed out.

"He's alive" the three soldiers looked at each other from underneath their helmets.

"Er..you're sure you're alive sir" Joxer's mumbling got louder. The General stood and flexed,

"Of course I'm alive you idiots, find the man who killed me, I mean tried to kill me, at once do you hear" the three soldiers considered this, then went into a huddle.

"I was certain he died...shouldn't he be y'know stiffer...maybe it's shock...he'll have to be buried...we can't bury him he's still walking around...he doesn't have any rights he's dead...but the walking and talking thing...delayed reaction?" they broke apart.

"Er..." they stopped, shrugged. One of them poked his head out of the tent.

"One of you find the man who killed-almost killed the general" Ares had had enough, he tugged Joxer out through the man sized hole and deposited him in the dirt, still muttering.

"What in tartarus is going on!?" he demanded. Joxer looked up and scowled, it was a very unjoxerlike expression.

"He was supposed to have died, fate y'see, he didn't but fate doesn't care, everybody still thinks he's dead, they'll keep on thinking he's dead, fabric of time and space and all that" Joxer stopped and his forehead wrinkled, for one moment there he'd actually understood it, it was disturbing.

"But he didn't die" Ares was getting annoyed, and confused. Which made him more annoyed, which made him angry. He fisted his hands in the fabric of Joxer's hood.

"Fix it" Joxer's eyes widened, he actually laughed.

"He has to die" a short shaking did nothing but rattle Joxers teeth, he put a hand up abruptly and pushed the irate War God backwards.

"Stop grabbing me, stop shaking me, I'm the one with the scythe you know" he waved it for emphasis. Ares visibly pulled himself together.

"How am I supposed to run an army if I keep having to remind people that the General isn't dead?" Joxer shook his head, still trying to work out how he'd shouted at the God and been obeyed.

"He is dead, oh I'm going to get into so much trouble for this" the scythe dropped and for one horrible moment he was Joxer again. Everyone looking at him like a stubborn stain that wouldn't go away. It was a painfully familiar moment when crawling away and dying was a very real, and possibly the best, option available. The only odd thing was Ares, as if Joxer had suddenly revealed sharp, never seen before teeth. The phrase 'grown a pair' came to mind. He sighed, looked the War God straight in the face.

"I'm just an apprentice, but Death will probably know what to do" Ares nodded

"Where is he?" Joxer frowned

"He's taken some time off, that's why I've got the scythe see" at least Death didn't seem to think he was a total idiot. It appeared Ares was half-way to changing his mind, which appealed to him slightly more than was probably good for him.

"Lead the way" Joxer trudged through the mud back to the white apparition which was currently tied to a tree trying to eat through the bark. With much grunting Joxer heaved himself into the saddle. Binky blinked at Ares as he seated himself behind Joxer. For once in a long time Joxer allowed himself a small grin.

"You might want to hold on" Ares huffed against the back of his neck.

"I've ridden enough horses to-" Binky chose this moment to give a loud neigh and leave the stratosphere. Three seconds later two large hands were fisted in his robes and a something hit his shoulder blade with an startled grunt.

"Meow" Death peered over the corner of his desk. A small white apparition was attacking the leg with all the gusto of a mini tiger.

"HELLO" the kitten looked up, blinked and licked it's nose.

"WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?"

"Ahh there you are" A second apparition rather larger and older, only slightly grubbier appeared from the direction of the kitchen and picked her up. Scratching around the ears provoked excited purring.

"ALBERT?" the mortal shrugged.

"Found her roaming round the kitchen, poor little mite, must have been thrown out with the rubbish". Death gave thin air a look which could have been considered murderous if eyeballs and skin had been involved.

"INDEED" Albert shuffled.

"Cats are for life not just for hogswatch and all that" he shuffled some more.

"QUITE" Death scratched the creature with one finger and then refocused his attention on the book before him. Albert shuffled some more, it was a shuffle full of meaning and impatience.

"THE FLOORS ARE ONLY SO THICK ALBERT" he abruptly stopped shuffling.

"Er Joxer's back Sir" Death looked up, or rather his eye sockets raised in Alberts general direction.

"He's not alone"

"OH"

Joxer slid off of Binky and gave him a pat, Ares managed a sideways slouch which eventually, with the aid of gravity, brought his body into contact with the floor. Joxer instantly grabbed and arm and hauled him to his feet. Ares recovered magnificently, he managed to almost slide upright, patting himself absently. He looked up, then he looked down, then he looked around.

"It's very black" he said quietly. Joxer made a noise.

"Not exactly, see look over there, that's a kind of blueish black, and over that an almost purplish black"

"But still in essence black" Ares snapped, feeling an intense need to get some annoyed shouting under his belt before he started to feel like a complete idiot. Joxer murmured agreement.

"At least the Underworld has some greys the occasional purple."

"He has trouble with colours" Joxer said softly.

"It's not so bad, once you learn to focus" Binky had already grown bored with the conversation and had decided to find his own way back to the stables. Ares was intensely aware that this wasn't the Underworld, this place was older than him, older than lots of hims, older than the entire world, Tartarus this place had probably been black before colours were even invented. Joxer pulled the scythe from where he'd stuck it and clutched it protectively. He gestured to the door, Ares tugged his leather down and nodded.

"After you" Joxer muttered something under his breath and the black door creaked open.

Their shoes, eerily, made no sound on the slippery looking floor. The inside was much the same as outside, only bigger, some sort of spatial distortion. Joxer wasn't even going to pretend he understood it. Ares was looking less pale and anxious, not that Joxer was ever going to tell anyone he had looked that way in the first place. Technically in the whole immortal beings chart Death outranked Ares. Death outranked near enough everybody, apart from Chance, they got together for a game of whist every other century. Joxer slid the scythe he was carrying into the humorous umbrella stand by the door, at least it was supposed to be humorous, Death was still getting the hang of that.

"Where are we exactly?" Ares said faintly, he seemed remarkably small for the God of War, he appeared to be reconsidering his earlier decision to follow Joxer here. Death's apprentice waved a hand.

"Oh outside of stuff"

"Stuff?""Yeah" Joxer glanced around, shrugged.

"Well pretty much everything" he was fiddling with his robes again, he forced himself to stop.

"Hey Boy" Joxer gave a small startled eep but the voice just didn't have the tombstone ring to it.

"Albert" faint relief.

"The Master is in his study" Joxer continued to stare.

"He wants to see you" if Albert had glasses to peer over he would be doing it now. He blinked and gestured to the kitchen.

"I made dinner, it'll probably go to waste too, perfectly good fat congealing on the plate." Joxer shuddered visibly.

"I wouldn't keep him waiting too long, you know how he gets" Albert sniffed, it was loud, dead cert that phlegm was involved.

"Who's that?" was hissed in his ear.

"Er Albert this is Ares God of War, Ares this is Albert, he er works here" Albert gave Ares a look that could crack granite and sniffed.

"E doesn't look much like a god" Joxer could feel a row brewing on the horizon.

"He is really, er, we should, er, go, into the study, yes" he wasn't sure entirely whether divine etiquette included tugging like a maniac on Ares leather vest but the God of War appeared to be adapting well. He glared and then chuffed before Joxer's well of anxiety appeared to give him super strength. He didn't turn to look at Ares face as he dragged him towards large oak doors which spoke of many things, knocking was not one of them.

Ares didn't like this, in fact he really shouldn't have come. His hand was on Joxers arm and the words were out of his mouth before he could drag them back.

"Look can't we just kill him and leave it at that" he fisted his hands as soon as the words were out. Joxer merely faced him blankly.

"It's all complicated, I don't think killing him will work anymore" Ares grabbed Joxer then abruptly let go.

"Where did the idiot go?" he muttered more to himself than Joxer. The apprentice cringed slightly and then shrugged.

"He's still here, he just found something he was good at" he sighed, paused.

"Where did the blustering War God go" Ares allowed Joxer a faint smile.

"I think he was knocked unconscious outside" he shook his head.

"Never fallen off a horse in my entire damn existence" Joxer looked contrite.

"Binky can be a little..." he waved in lieu of an actual word.

"Obnoxious, demonic, hoofed little bas-"

"All of the above" Joxer said quickly.

"Ready" Ares took a deep breath, Joxer nodded and pushed at the large doors.

"AH THERE YOU ARE COME IN" the audible sound of swallowing broke the echoey silence.

General Gratas was in a minor quandary, the type that comes when the majority of men under his command appeared to be under the impression that he was dead. They had started laying things outside his tent, comforting each other in manly ways, singing mournful dirges, he'd woken up twice to find himself wrapped in cloth all ready to be hoisted onto a burning funeral pyre. It was very inconvenient, and very annoying. He was afraid to go to sleep, it was all very well knowing personally that you weren't dead. An army of two hundred men intent on burning and burying him was another matter entirely.

He had sent some of the younger soldiers out with reminders, to be posted at strategic locations. Which said, in no uncertain terms 'General Gratas is not dead'. It didn't appear to be working, the gross illiteracy wasn't helping, he couldn't really spread the word in picture form. He didn't understand it, the assassin hadn't killed him. Maybe this was the price of having your life saved by a god, an after clause in the contract. 'Oh and by the way everyone will think you're dead haha'. It wasn't so damn funny from this end he could say. He was wearing one of his bodyguards spare sets of armour. His own had been melted down during the night for swords, it was disgraceful. Not to mention the fact that it was almost impossible to get anyones attention short of head butting them and staring at them until his eyes watered. He was sick of the whole damn thing, sick of it.

He'd even lost the opportunity to fight the warrior princess, apparently she'd heard he was dead too, didn't even bother coming to look at his armies. Went to a fair instead with the little blonde creature. A fair! Indeed, the battle would have been glorious, if anyone had remembered who actually led the troops. This was worse than being a laughing stock. He wouldn't mind so much if people laughed at him but no, he didn't even exist anymore. He called absently to the sentry at the flap, before the incident he would have bellowed, there was really no point anymore, he'd go hoarse before anyone noticed he was speaking. He called a few more times and finally managed to get his attention with a well thrown fruit bowl. Even then the boy stared through him like he wasn't there, every time his eyes shifted to meet the generals his face would spasm out of focus.

"You boy" a sigh while he watched the young soldiers face try to fathom who was speaking to him.

"Yoo hoo" Gratas waved a hand rapidly in front of the boys face until he got a sort of slouchy attention, from only one eye it appeared.

"Nurgh"

"Yes yes, I'm alive, do you think I could have some water?" he watched the boys face go through several interesting expressions.

"Hn" another sigh,

"Water, I'm thirsty" he mimed drinking and then ended the charade with a cuff to the side of the boys head.

"Aargh" the young soldier managed to cower standing up, at least he wasn't pointing a finger, and he hadn't collapsed yet.

"Water" he repeated slowly and carefully. In the end he physically turned the soldier around and sent him out of the tent with a solid kick to the rump.

"Water" he yelled loudly after him. He seriously doubted he'd get any. If it was anything like yesterday he's have to go and get his own. He really was very annoyed. He'd stared death in the face, so far it was a bloody inconvenience. He debated yelling for Ares, he must thing the whole thing was a riot, probably doubled over somewhere at his expense. He sighed and sprawled in the chair. He'd give the boy ten minutes and then he'd go out and get his own.

The doors swallowed everything outside of the study with a raspy bang. Ares managed not to jump only with the aid of his well practiced glare, it was fixed firmly on a bookshelf to his left.

"JOXER" the owner of the name shuffled forward.

"Er..."

"AND ARES" Death tapped his fingers on the book he was reading and then snapped it shut. Ares moved his eyes until they rested uncertainly on the creatures who took up far more space than he ought to.

"HMMM" Joxer fiddled with his robe, rather wishing he'd brought in the scythe, he was getting really good at hiding behind it.

"I'M ASSUMING YOU BOTH HAVE SOMETHING OF DIRE IMPORTANCE TO TELL ME" Ares shuffled, damn it, he hadn't shuffled since he was ten. Joxer stepped forward slightly while Death folded his hands. Ares was making a well thought out retreat in the direction of the doors. Joxer surprised even himself by tugging the War god back to his side.

"Er there was a general" he flapped for a moment and then pulled at a side of robe.

"Gratas" Ares provided quietly, Joxer stopped fiddling.

"Yeah Gratas...he well...the assassin...Well Ares...and then he got away...ran away...didn't in fact...er kill him." Joxer ran out of breath. Joxer looked up nervously, fully expecting a towering inferno of skeletal rage.

"I SEE" Joxer blinked, ok the towering rage was probably gonna be any second now.

"THATS MOST UNFORTUNATE" any second now.

"VERY DISAPPOINTING" Joxer blinked again, couldn't resist.

"Er pardon" Ares was shuffling again, he eventually moved to stand beside Joxer, who was surprised to discover felt comfort from having him there. It was all very well to be a God, but when faced with Death, Ares might as well have been a naughty child who'd kicked his ball over the neighbors fence one too many times. He did however make a small throaty noise which indicated he was with Joxer all the way. Joxer saw it as banging together in the presence of a greater threat. Death peered at the cover of the book for a moment.

"WHAT? OH YES VERY DISAPPOINTING" Joxer gave Ares a sideways look and frowned.

"Thats it?" ha said quietly. Death look up again, if he had eyebrows they would probably have been raised in question.

"YES WERE YOU EXPECTING MORE"

"Er" Joxer was fairly certain there should be some anger, or at least annoyance at his incompetence, unwillingness to do his job and his bringing the God of War outside of the world.

"Yes" Death sighed, a low tornado of sound.

"WHAT PRECISELY WERE YOU EXPECTING?" Joxer shrugged.

"A towering inferno of rage"

"Shouting?" Ares offered

"Oh yeah lots of shouting" Joxer nodded

"A fight maybe" Ares appeared more comfortable with stuff that he knew best.

"FIGHT?"

"Oh yeah With scythes, being fired at least" Joxer said rather bewildered.

Death regarded them both with a long confused look.

"YOU'D LOSE" he said simply. Joxer folded slightly,

"Well Xena would have probably wanted to fight"

"Xena always wants to fight" Ares said with a small nostalgic sigh. Death did his equivalent of blinking.

"INDEED" Death intoned quietly.

"Yeah nothings settled until you've had a good fight" Ares nodded approvingly.

"Yeah fires the blood and all that" Death coughed quietly.

"I HAVE WIELDED A WOOD AND METAL FOR AS LONG AS MEMORY HAS EXISTED, I AM IMMORTAL, UNWOUNDABLE, ETERNAL, I DON'T EVEN HAVE A PHYSICAL BODY. I OVERSEE THE DEATH OF ENTIRE WORLDS AND YOU WANT TO FIGHT ME?" complete silence reined for several seconds, death was still blinking. He looked both amused and bewildered. Joxer coughed, Ares cleared his throat, glancing occasionally at the all powerful symbol of his godhood. Suddenly against a farming implement it looked about as useful as a stubborn blade of grass.

"So we'll be off then, I mean, I'll take him back to er the mortal world"

Ares shuffled again.

"Then I can come back...can't I?" Death nodded slowly,

"I WILL ATTEND TO THE GENRAL" Joxer got the distinct impression he was sniggering.

"Er ok then" Ares blinked, looked around, sighed.

General Gratas peeled open an eye, hmm this was very peculiar. No bandages, no flaming torches, no wailing women. He supposed it was too much to expect that he was sufficiently alive to merit attention. Maybe everyone had marched off and forgotten him, he sighed loudly and sat up, nope his tent was still here. So were the sheets, so no dashing around the place naked this time, thank the gods.

"GENERAL GRATAS" he jumped, it wasn't so much that the voice was like a box of iron dropped off a mountain. No one had called him by name in ages.

"Yes" he said uncertainly.

"I MUST APOLOGISE FOR THE DELAY" a glint of steel and a faint tugging sensation.

"Oomph" he blinked, looked down at himself sprawled among the vases. He was staring himself straight in the eye, which was creepy, he blinked again.

"I'm dead"

"INDEED"

"Really dead?"

"YES"

"Really dead this time?" More furtive body oggling.

"Proper dead?" Death sighed, this was what you got when the universal equilibrium got screwed with.

Joxer pulled Binky out from the stables.

"That's not necessary" Ares said, he didn't even bother to bellow it, or tug down his vest. Joxer fidgeted.

"Er I think I have to, you'll be wandering around here forever otherwise"

Ares sighed, the day could have gone better he supposed. First he'd discovered that Joxer was no longer a simpering moron, then he'd fallen off a horse, tried not to be terrified in the face of eternal death, failed utterly. Now he discovered he'd have to get back on the dread horse.

"You must think I'm some kind of coward" Joxer shook his head and pulled himself into the saddle.

"I was really impressed, Death hits right at the core of terror for anything alive. You fared a lot better than most, some of them gods." Ares looked intrigued as he pulled himself up behind Joxer.

"Really?" He mumbled into Joxer's head.

"Yep, peeing themselves, fainting hiding behind bushes, screaming like a woman. Going insane, trying to eat their own weapons" He chuckled.

"Hercules has met him y'know"

"Care to share any stories?" Joxer grinned out of sight.

"Well I suppose we could take the scenic route" Ares laughed.

"You'll have to hang on, if you fall off you'll never hit the ground" the hands tightened on his robes.

"I think I could handle that" Joxer grinned and slid the scythe into it's allotted place.

"What are you doing for the next week?" Joxer kicked Binky and he went through the floor. Ares gulped air,

"Nothing I can't cancel"