Seven-year-old Iolaus would never admit it, but he was lonely. Iolaus had no real friends among the village children. The other children tended to avoid him, either because they feared his father or because they feared Iolaus himself. Reckless, smart-mouthed, and given to stealing to fill the sometimes empty bellies of his sisters and himself, Iolaus was winning no popularity awards among the adults, either.

Skouros cursed the Fates for having a son nothing like himself, and the village cursed Iolaus for being too much his father's son.

Whatever else he was, Iolaus was only seven and he longed for a friend. He thought that perhaps he had found one.

Iolaus watched as the younger boy he had been trailing for months was left to sit alone on the shop step as his brother went to play with the other children. Most of the village children didn't like to play with this other boy, and some acted afraid of him. Iolaus couldn't understand any of this. Despite what Skouros and some of the other adults said, there was nothing frightening or freakish about the other that Iolaus could see. He just seemed shy, sad, and lonely.

Iolaus couldn't seem to shake the feeling that this was the friend he had wanted for so long, as though, somehow, he had been waiting for the other boy.

The shop merchant came out and spoke to the shy boy, who rose and went into the alley. Crossing the village and coming up the back way, Iolaus peered through the wooden fence that blocked the alley to see the boy petting a kitten and quietly crying to himself about the boys who had teased him earlier. Iolaus found himself blinking back tears of sympathy and rage, suddenly furious at the older boys for bullying this gentle younger one who had done nothing to deserve the abuse.

Iolaus knew all about wanting to protect others. He had done his best to protect his sisters and mother from his father's rage nearly all his young life. He not only wanted to be this boy's friend, he wanted to protect him as well. He was suddenly quite sure this other boy needed protecting, which made no sense. This boy didn't have a father who yelled at him for no reason and he never had to sleep alone in the woods. He never went without food. His life was now, and probably always would be, better than Iolaus' own. So why was Iolaus so certain that the other needed him?

It made no sense, any more than the gentle tugging in his heart that had started when Iolaus first saw the other boy.

'Now' something whispered in the back of Iolaus' mind and suddenly he knew that today he and the other boy would become friends. All he had to do was to give the other a chance. Iolaus stood, intending to circle back and wait on the shop step.

'Wait!' a second, more urgent whisper came, freezing Iolaus with its intensity. 'Wait! Why do you want to be friends with such a crybaby? He is not the one. Wait.'

Iolaus blinked, shaken. He lingered in the alley, trying to balance the two opposite, equally urgent commands. In the end, fearful of rejection and his father's wrath, Iolaus simply went back to the alley across from the merchant's shop and wistfully watched the younger boy playing with his new kitten until the other left with his older brother.

That night Hercules lay awake long past his bedtime, wondering why Iolaus had stared at him all day without even saying hi. Hercules had been hoping for a very long time that Iolaus might like to be his friend, but had been too shy to approach the older boy. The young demi-god didn't believe that Iolaus was a bully and a thief like the other children said. After all, the other children called him nasty names, too. Finally, five-year-old Hercules sadly decided that Iolaus just didn't like him. Iolaus would never be his friend.

Hercules cried himself to sleep.

Iolaus watched Hercules from an alley. Sometimes, it seemed to the teen-aged thief that he had spent most of his life watching this other boy from the shadows

Hercules seemed happier, less moody, with this friend of his from Cheiron's Academy. Rumor claimed that this dark boy was none other than Prince Jason of Corinth. He was regal and handsome, this Jason, but not half as handsome as Hercules. Not nearly as tall, either. At least, so Iolaus thought. Iolaus had been impressed with Herc even before he left for the Academy.

Herc. Yeah, right, like he knew the other well enough to go giving him a nickname. They barely knew each other at all, even though they had both been born right here in Thebes. Iolaus wouldn't be the least surprised to learn that Hercules didn't even remember his name.

Iolaus closed his eyes and tracked Herc's progress across the market by the gentle tugging in his heart, the tugging that he had lived with all his life. Iolaus turned, following the tugging, and slowly opened his eyes to the startling sight of Hercules standing only a few feet away, gazing at him with open bewilderment.

"Iolaus?" Hercules said softly.

Iolaus swallowed. Hercules did know his name after all, it seemed. The young thief's mind raced and so did his heart. How was he ever going to explain spying on Hercules from an alley?

"Iolaus, are you alright? What happened? Somebody's hurt you!" Herc's eyes held real concern as he edged into the alley, approaching the smaller boy slowly, the way you would approach a frightened animal. Iolaus was dirty and bruised, his lower lip swollen and bleeding. The young demi-god possessed a gentle soul and even though he had long come to accept that Iolaus hated him, he still wanted to help the other boy. Without even realizing what he was doing, Hercules reached out and lightly touched Iolaus' cheek.

Iolaus twitched, heart leaping at the slight contact. He wanted to pull away, to vanish into the safety of the shadows, but he couldn't seem to move, couldn't seem to stop looking into Herc's eyes. Hercules was radiating concern and ...love? For him? It had been so very long since anyone had cared about him at all, since anyone had touched him without intending only to hurt. Suddenly, all Iolaus wanted in the world was to give Hercules a hug and feel him hug back. Everything would be all right then. Everything. All he had to do was reach out...

"Friend of yours, Hercules?" Jason asked from the alley's entrance.

Hercules smiled reassuringly at Iolaus and dropped his hand, turning towards Jason.

"This is Iolaus. He needs our help, Jason. Someone's beaten him," Hercules explained.

"He's gone, Hercules," Jason said quietly, and Herc turned back to find that Iolaus had vanished.

The First Path

'Why am I here?' Iolaus wondered for about the fiftieth time since starting his journey. Thebes might be his birthplace, but for a thief of Iolaus' caliber it held little attraction. Not much in the way of rich pickings in Thebes.

Maybe he was just tired. After all, as the second most famous thief in Greece, Iolaus had to duck his share of bounty-hunters and soldiers. Usually, he relished such challenges, but lately he had been feeling more and more...what? Bored? Empty? Depressed? Lonely?

So, he had decided a quick visit back home to Thebes, his old stomping ground, was just the thing to pick him up. Nothing like remembering how miserable you used to be to make you appreciate how good you had it now.

It had nothing to do with Hercules. Really. Nothing.

Hercules was married now, and a father. A bona fide hero and a demi-god to boot. Why would someone like that still be living in a backwater like Thebes?

Shyness. Herc had always been shy, even as a kid. Iolaus had heard all the stories about Herc's legendary ability to vanish from victory celebrations and of his vain attempts to hide his identity as he went about helping others. Iolaus had heard all the stories about Hercules, though he would have sworn that he had really been listening for the ones about Iolaus and Autolycus, sometime friends who vied for the title 'King of Thieves'.

Iolaus shook his head. He could afford to be honest with himself and he was on two points: Auto was the true King and Iolaus would never be quite good enough to best him; and he, Iolaus, was hopelessly obsessed with Hercules and had been all his life. Amazing, that. He could hardly depend upon Auto as a friend, but he was far closer to Auto than he could ever hope to be to Hercules. A hero who just happened to be a son of Zeus just didn't hang out with street trash made good. Or bad, depending on to whom you talked.

'One little peek only,' Iolaus swore to himself. Just one, and he was out of here for good. It had been years since he had last seen Herc and he was curious, one of his very worst faults, he knew. One day his curiosity might well get him killed, but today it was leading him back into an old hobby - spying on Hercules.

Coming to a fork in the road, Iolaus took neither branch, choosing instead to leave the road altogether. The one advantage Iolaus had over Autolycus was woodcraft. While both thieves took to the forest at times to escape their pursuers, only Iolaus was comfortable in the wilds for long stretches, able to find his way without the need of paths or roads.

Herc not only lived in a backwater, he lived in the backwater's backwater, in a cottage not far from his mother's outside the village proper. It would be easier to reach by cutting through the woods than by following the road from here.

Iolaus started humming cheerfully to himself. After catching a peek at Herc and his family, Iolaus was off to visit his own mother and sisters. He had a few pretty baubles on him for his ladies, baubles with proof-of-sale. His mother may have been forced by Skouros' abandonment to profit from her son's light fingers or starve, but she refused to accept stolen gifts, no matter how pretty or valuable. Iolaus was looking forward to seeing his family again, almost as much as he was looking forward to seeing Hercules. He shook his head at his own folly, giggling at himself.

"Let me go! I want my mommy and Daddy! I wanna go home!" Cried a terrified, shrill voice. Iolaus' head jerked up. He instantly broke into a run, racing towards the source of the cry.

"You might as well shut up," the big, dark, dirty man snarled at the shaking little girl. She whimpered softly in response.

Slavers! The child's wrists were bound together in metal cuffs in front of her. Gods! She was only- what? Five? Seven? Surely no older, and crying and shaking with fear.

Iolaus was a thief, not a warrior. He knew better than to confront the slavers. There were five of them, all armed. He knew the thing to do was to run for help, but she was a very little girl, they were very big men, and he didn't like to think what might happen while he was gone.

'I'm gonna die,' he thought fatalistically as he offered a quick prayer each to Hermes and Aphrodite and stepped out from behind the tree.

"Gentlemen, why don't you just let her go and we'll all forget this ever happened?" he offered brightly but without much hope.

"Who the hell are you, shrimp?" the lead slaver snarled.

"Someone who knows what soap and water is for!" Iolaus retorted automatically.

Damn his mouth! Now he knew he was dead.

"Cute," the slaver replied sarcastically, "Try again."

"Someone who doesn't like big, grown men who pick on little girls," Iolaus snapped back.

The little girl's eyes lit hopefully. Iolaus just hoped she wouldn't be too traumatized by his death.

The slaver surprised Iolaus by chuckling nastily. "Little girl, huh? Try little goddess!" He grabbed the girl's arm, jerking her towards him, and slid a hand under her chin, forcing her eyes up to meet Iolaus'.

"This little tidbit is the daughter of a true demi-god, a son of Zeus. She's the daughter of Hercules." The slaver was trying to distract him, Iolaus but was watching the others from the corners of his eyes as they circled around, surrounding him. Five against one. Nice. Iolaus may never have been a warrior, but even he knew these guys weren't about to play fair.

"People in power will pay real good money for a baby demi-god," another slaver chimed in, as though that excused everything.

Iolaus ignored him. "Sweetheart, what's your name?" Iolaus asked the terrified child.

She swallowed and whimpered, "Ilea."

"Hello, Ilea, I'm Iolaus. I'm going to take you home," Iolaus said soothingly. 'Big Maybe' he added silently.

The child brightened suddenly. "You're Uncle Iolaus?" she asked in awed tones.

The slavers exchanged bewildered glances, wondering who this strange little man could be that the daughter of Hercules would know him.

Iolaus was wondering that himself, but he was too busy seizing opportunity to wonder long.

Snick! A flick of his wrist and the left-hand throwing knife was out and airborne, straight into a slaver's throat. Another snick and the right-hand knife was deep in another's chest. That left three very shocked and angry slavers.

Iolaus ducked, leaped, grabbed an overhead branch, swung, and both boots connected with a slaver's jaw, knocking the thug off his feet. Dropping, Iolaus gave another a sideways kick in the gut. He was starting to think he just might get out of this alive, after all.

It was just too bad the lead slaver had throwing knives, too.

The little girl screamed as the knife embedded itself in Iolaus' chest with enough force to stagger him. Looking down at the impact, seeing the knife and knowing he was dead, Iolaus was astonished to realize that he was still more concerned about the girl than himself. Catching at the trunk of a small tree to steady himself, he flicked his second right knife out, praying that his aim was still good enough to take the bastard out. Maybe, just maybe, the child could out-run the other two. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could do for her.

He threw and felt a small flicker of satisfaction as the knife went through the slaver's throat. Ilea screamed again and threw herself away, sprawling in a heap in the ground.

Iolaus tried to tell her to run, but when he opened his mouth all that came out was blood. Mentally cursing, his body starting to go numb, he managed to flick out the second left knife, but it missed the slaver he threw it at. The slaver stiffened anyway, staring in shock at the arrow that had appeared, as though by magic, in his chest.

'Weird,' Iolaus thought as his legs gave out and he fell. He never saw the last slaver go down as well, another arrow through his neck.

Hercules and his brother Iphicles raced to the crying Ilea, Herc dropping his bow to gather his daughter into loving arms.

"Hush, hush, Honey, it's alright. Daddy and Uncle Iphy are here," Hercules crooned, cradling the shaking child tenderly as his brother went to check on the man who had been trying to save her.

"Daddy?" Ilea sobbed, hugging him fiercely. Suddenly she broke free and ran to the fallen man.

"Uncle Iolaus! Uncle Iolaus! Daddy's here!" she cried, pushing past Iphicles to kneel next to Iolaus, who smiled weakly up at her.

'Safe. She's safe. Herc's safe," he thought dazedly. That was important. Behind and above the girl the two men exchanged glances, Iphicles shaking his head grimly, but Iolaus already knew that he was dying. But Herc was safe.

Hercules knelt next to his daughter and gently touched Iolaus' cheek with trembling fingertips. It was nothing short of a miracle that Iolaus would turn up here, just in time to save Ilea. He had been sent by the Gods, that was the only explanation.

"Thank you, Iolaus, my friend," Hercules whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks.

'You're welcome, Herc,' Iolaus thought happily, managing, somehow, to smile slightly as he gazed into Hercules' eyes until the world went black.

The Second Path

Iolaus of Thebes, General of the defending army of Greece, sat outside the tavern in Corinth surrounded by friends. They were an odd, some might say motley, bunch. Not the sort of people the average general would befriend, but then there had never been anything 'average' about Iolaus. Thief, sailor, hero, warrior, monster-slayer, lover; Iolaus was a legend in his own time. One who actually lived up to his reputation.

Jason, the Warrior-King of Corinth, was talking tactics to young Joxer, whom Iolaus had saved from the Barbarian Warrior Queen Xena several months back, though he had sadly been too late to save Joxer's brothers. Autolycus, self-proclaimed King of Thieves and Spies, sat exchanging stories with the young 'Battling Bard' Gabrielle, another of Iolaus' 'strays' and another survivor of Xena's campaign of terror. Salmoneus, a trader friend of Autolycus', sat quietly taking in the tales, probably planning some scheme to market them, if Iolaus was any judge. Still, Iolaus liked the man; there was a basic honesty and gentleness in his manner that invited intimacy. Iolaus could see why Autolycus trusted him so.

Deianeira, the exotically lovely high Priestess of Aphrodite, sat quietly next to Iolaus, watching her oldest and dearest friend with a gentle, concerned gaze. Iolaus wasn't participating in either of the conversations; he sat quietly, eyes restlessly scanning the people passing the table as he sipped his ale.

"Haven't found her yet?" Deianeira asked softly.

Iolaus smiled slightly and silently shook his head. His once-golden hair was going to gray and Deianeira missed the radiant smile of his youth, before too many wars and too much death had stolen it away forever.

"I did find her," the general reminded his friend, referring to his late bride, the eccentric and lovely Ania. Despite years of matchmaking since on the Priestess' part, no other woman had ever captured his heart. There had been a rumor once concerning Niobe, wife of Orestes, but Deianeira knew her friend well and knew his honor and his love for his cousin Orestes would outweigh any feelings Iolaus may have harbored for the Queen. The Priestess had dared to hope that Gabrielle might ease the general's loneliness, but Iolaus was encouraging the budding romance between Gabrielle and Joxer, his 'Bard' and his 'Musician', as he liked to call them. "That boy's been gifted by the Gods and all he wants is to do is get himself killed to avenge his brothers," Iolaus had griped to Deianeira fondly. Iolaus intended otherwise, and compensated by keeping Joxer close to him and as safe as possible. The general wanted Joxer to survive this war and make Iolaus an 'uncle'.

Deianeira laid her hand lightly on her old friend's arm and Iolaus sighed, meeting her concerned gaze with another small smile.

For as long as they had been friends, and that was many years, Iolaus had searched for someone, he knew not who. For the longest time he had believed that he searched for his love, but he had found and wed her, and although their time together had been brief it was still enough to last his life. Yet always, everywhere, in every country, city, battlefield, Iolaus would catch himself at odd moments scanning the surrounding faces, looking for one specific face that was never there.

"My soulmate?" he had once suggested to Deianeira, a notion that he had come across during his time in the East. He was searching for the something that would fill the strange empty place in his heart, the something that would explain the strange, painless tugging that sometimes woke him from sleep, from the dreams that he could never remember but which made him weep upon waking.

Dreams. That reminded him...

Iolaus leaned close to murmur into the Priestess' ear, "I dreamt of him again last night. He has a name, now."

Deianeira gave his hand a gentle squeeze and rose quickly. "Iolaus, walk with me, please?" she asked and made her farewells to the others. They all rose as well, to go on to Jason's castle, where Iolaus would meet them later.

"Deianeira, you don't have to worry about me," Iolaus told her as they strolled arm-in-arm through the market streets. "I haven't lost my mind yet. I know it's just a dream."

"You said 'him', Iolaus. When did you start dreaming of a 'him'? You've never been able to remember your dreams before." she asked gently.

Iolaus frowned, struggling to remember just when he had started to recall his dreams. Remembering had just felt so...so right, that he had totally disregarded all the years of forgotten dreams.

"A few months back, after that first face-to-face confrontation with Xena. Right after I saw that War Bitch's face for the first time," he recalled.

The Priestess gave his arm a small squeeze, offering comfort for the horrors that followed in Xena's wake, horrors that still broke Iolaus' heart. Iolaus and Xena hated each other, and each had sworn to personally deliver death to the other, he for the atrocities that she committed at every turn, she for his constant ability to thwart her just as she reached for her greatest victories.

"And you started remembering your dreams then. What do you remember?"

"Nothing all that much, really. Little boys playing, myself with some other boy I don't remember ever knowing. Blonde-brown hair, blue eyes, the sweetest smile, nice kid. Silly things. Later we're teens roughhousing together, fishing, things like that. Just normal stuff that I never really did. Wish fulfillment, I guess," he sighed, gaze far away.

Deianeira felt herself grow alarmed. Iolaus didn't seem to realize what he had just told her. "First as children, then as teens? Always you and the same boy?"

"Yes, always him."

"And now he has a name?"

"Hercules," Iolaus told her happily and Deianeira shivered to hear the happiness in his voice. She had not heard it since Ania had died giving birth to their stillborn son. "His name is Hercules and he's all grown up now. I wish you could meet him, Deia. I wish you could see him. Damn, but I wish I could draw! Herc's worth the seeing. Big and handsome and sweet, with those incredible blue eyes- you'd lose your heart in a minute, I know it."

"'Herc'?" Deianeira repeated softly.

"Just a nickname, that's all."

They came to Aphrodite's temple just then, but the Priestess refused to release his arm. Instead, she kept going, pulling him with her into her private apartments.

"Deia," he demurred, uncomfortable with entering her rooms, but she was insistent, finally pushing him down into a chair. She dropped into another, then stood, paced, and sat again.

"Iolaus," she began, then stopped, trying to gather her thoughts. Gods, her voice was shaking as badly as her hands. She clasped her hands together in her lap and tried again. "Iolaus, do you realize what you've been telling me? You're living a whole life in your dreams!"

He smiled then, the radiant smile of his youth. "I know," he admitted softly. "I've been thinking about what this could mean. Deia, it's my life, the life I could have had, maybe the life I should have had. It's like...it's like someone took that away from me, and now someone else is trying to give it back, even if only in my dreams." He looked at her, eyes searching hers, hoping for understanding. "Deia, it's said the dead can visit us in dreams. I know Ania has visited me. Perhaps that's it- Hercules died too young and the only way he can come to me is in my dreams. But that's enough."

"Iolaus, I don't know...This seems like something sent by the Gods," she tried to puzzle it out, tried to convince herself that the terrible feeling of dread in her heart had no basis.

"It is sent by the Gods, Deia. I think it's telling me that I'll be joining Herc soon. I think it means Xena is finally going to get me."

Her head came up, eyes widening. "Iolaus, no!" she cried, heart tightening. "You can't know that!"

"Yes, I can. Listen, Deia, it's alright. Everybody dies. Only the Gods live forever. I think Hercules is the partner I never had, the one I could trust to watch my back no matter what, the one who would give his life for mine. I've fought beside a lot of good men in my life, but I never had a partner I could trust totally, without a moment's reserve. That's why Xena's going to kill one of these fine days. She knows it and I know it. I've known it for a long time, now. Some things are woven by the Fates from our births, Deia, and nothing can change them."

The Priestess sat for a long moment, just looking at him as she blinked back her tears. Slowly, she reached out to touch his weathered cheek. "The emptiness? The tugging?" she whispered.

"Him, all of it, I think," Iolaus replied, reaching up to stroke the back of her trembling hand with gentle fingertips. "That's why I could never fill it, Deia. Because I could never find him. Somebody's giving a gift, a glimpse of what might have been." Iolaus dropped his hand and his gaze, shrugged, and murmured, "Either that or I've got a hell of an imagination."

Deianeira rose and pulled him up into her arms. "I hope you're wrong," she whispered into his ear. "I hope your Hercules is alive out there somewhere and you find him and share many happy years together."

"I hope you're right," Iolaus whispered back, but he knew she wasn't.

Months later, the Barbarian Queen Xena straddled Iolaus' battered body, knees pressing heavily on his broken arms, her sword hovering over his heart and her face twisted with rage and triumph.

"Any last words, General?" she snarled.

Iolaus' gaze flickered over her shoulder to the horror that gazed blankly back from the spear behind her. She followed his eyes and grinned evilly.

"Friend of yours?" she purred.

"Rot in Tartarus, bitch," Iolaus replied calmly and smiled as she snarled in rage and slammed the sword home.

The Path's End?

"Hello, Blondie, back again, huh? Didn't happen to bring your fare this time, did ya?" Charon asked, confusing the newly deceased General Iolaus.

"Um, no," Iolaus ventured, looking around curiously. So this was the afterlife. "I'm sure it will be included when I'm properly buried, but that could be a while. Xena, you know," he explained, wondering if Charon did know of Xena. Apparently he did.

"Her again? Really racking up the old body-count this time around, isn't she?" Charon whistled. "Boy, and we thought she was bad the first time!"

"Excuse?" Iolaus asked, bewildered.

The ancient boatman grinned toothlessly. "Never you mind, buddy-boy. She's due back here any day now, thanks to your pal Jason, so don't you go worrying your pretty head about her none. Hop on in!"

"But I don't have the fare," Iolaus protested a bit nervously. He didn't want Charon dumping him out in mid-Styx.

"Ahhh, I'll just put it on your tab. C'mon, hop in. Boss has somebody he wants you to meet. Don't just stand there all day!"

Iolaus shrugged and wedged himself in among the half-dozen shades already in the boat. Charon cast off, poling across at a pretty good clip for somebody who looked like he was about to fall apart any second, chattering away like an old friend to the increasingly befuddled Iolaus all the way.

Things didn't get any less confusing at the landing stage.

"You out first, Handsome! They're waiting on you! Go on, move it!" Charon demanded, shoving Iolaus off the boat.

"Hey!" he called after the general. "Say hi to the big guy for me, willya? I know I give him a hard time, but he's not so bad for one of that royal lot."

"Um, ok," Iolaus replied, wondering what the boatman was talking about and who the 'big guy' was. Surely not Hades?

The official-looking shade at the dock frowned. "Who is this?" he demanded.

"Iolaus!" Charon cackled and the official stiffened.

"Iolaus? You're Iolaus?"

"General Iolaus, yes," Iolaus replied, getting very concerned.

"General, smeneral. Are you the Iolaus from Thebes?"

"Yes."

"RUSH JOB!" the official bellowed, causing Iolaus and every other nearby shade to jump.

Another official-looking shade hurried up. "Why?" this one demanded, obviously peeved. "It's going to mess up the paperwork and you know how the boss gets!"

The first official jerked a thunb in Iolaus' direction. "Meet Iolaus of Thebes," he announced smugly.

The next thing Iolaus knew, he was being hustled through the admitting line, the second official shade trotting alongside busily ticking off questions.

"Yes. No. No. No. Yes. I dunno," Iolaus answered dutifully if dazedly.

"Don't have time for 'don't know's," the shade muttered, "It's a yes. Here you go, sir. Just follow that path straight up. I'll call ahead and let them know you're coming."

At the top of the path another flustered official-looking shade waited.

"General Iolaus of Thebes?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes."

"Thank the Gods! Maybe you can talk some sense into him! They're at it again!"

"Who's at what again?" Ioaus asked as the shade shoved him down a corridor.

"Himself and Hades, who else? Boy, can you tell they're family- both as stubborn as all creation!" The shade pushed open a door and a lovely young girl with flowers in her hair turned to greet them. Her face instantly lit with a wide smile.

"Iolaus!" she cried happily, sweeping him into a hug.

"Hello?" Iolaus ventured when she finally loosened her grip.

She giggled and took his hand, dismissing the shade with a small wave.

"You really don't remember, do you? Don't worry, it will come back to you eventually. I'm Persephone."

"The Queen of the Underworld?!" Iolaus gasped. He was holding hands with a goddess?

She giggled again. "And an old friend, so don't go getting all shy on me! Come on!" She dragged him out the door and further down the corridor until they came to a large open area filled with milling shades.

"It counts!" an impossibly familiar deep voice insisted stubbornly.

"It does not!" another deep voice responded.

"It counts!" the first voice repeated.

"Herc?" Iolaus whispered, not daring to believe. 'I'm dreaming,' he thought, terrified. 'I'm still dying and I'm dreaming this as I die.'

Persephone giggled again. "Am not!" she objected, squeezing his hand. "Trust me on this, Iolaus. You are already dead. Deceased. No more. Permanent inventory."

"But Herc...he doesn't exist. He's just a dream, isn't he?" Iolaus protested, blinking back tears. This was so cruel. What had he done to deserve being cast into Tartarus?

Persephone was shaking her head firmly. "For somebody who doesn't exsit, he's certainly been kicking up a fuss since he got assigned here!" she announced.

"Assigned?" Iolaus echoed.

"He had to go somewhere after that nasty little trick of Hera's and we seemed somehow the logical place for a god who was never born." She shrugged and continued, "But not being born certainly isn't stopping him!"

"Hercules, it does not count! This man is not going to the Elysuim Fields!" the second voice bellowed.

"It counts! He goes!" Herc's voice bellowed right back.

Iolaus looked at Persephone, who gave his hand an encouraging squeeze before pushing him forward through the crowd.

"Hercules, it does not..."

"Herc?" Iolaus said softly, staring through his tears at the impossibly beautiful sight of Herc in full Stubborn Cuss Mode, standing with his arms folded across his chest and glaring down Hades himself.

Both Gods spun towards Iolaus and the general smiled to see the source of the argument- the shade of Joxer hovering behind Hercules and peering timidly around him at Hades.

"IOLAUS!" Herc bellowed and charged forward to scoop Iolaus up into a bone-crushing bearhug. Iolaus hugged back, tears spilling unashamedly as he breathed in Herc's scent, felt Herc's hair against his cheek, felt Herc's heart beating -against his own?!

Hades stiffened and rolled his eyes upwards as Persephone laughed joyfully. "Thank you, dear brother," Hades groaned. "Now I've got two of them to deal with!"

"Two what?" Iolaus asked over Herc's shoulder. Herc didn't seem inclined to put him down anytime soon and Iolaus had no intention of asking.

"Gods of Eternal Happiness," Hades responded, then smiled and winked.

"Hercules, getting killed while trying to save a puppy during battle does not count as an heroic act. Joxer does not go to the Elysium Fields!"

"It counts!" Hercules and Iolaus chorused and Iolaus gave Hades a quick glare over Herc's shoulder followed by a sunny smile and a wink of his own before losing himself in the hug.

Joxer looked hopefully at the God of the Underworld.

"Go on," Hades moaned, making shooing motions. Laughing still, Persephone scooped up Joxer's new puppy, grabbed the young warrior by the hand, and personally escorted him to the Elysuim Fields to wait for Gabrielle and Xena.

"I'm doomed!" Hades groaned. "I'll never win another argument again with both of them ganging up on me!"

Iolaus giggled in Herc's ear. So this was what heaven felt like. Eternity wasn't going to be long enough.

The End

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