His first mistake, Hercules would later reluctantly admit, was probably going to meet Aphrodite without Iolaus, but he had his reasons for that. His second, and biggest mistake, had been in underestimating just how truly nuts his divine relatives were.

It was a beautiful Spring day and Iolaus was his usual bouncy self. Indeed, he was even more bouncy than usual, looking forward to the Flower Maiden Festival.

"Girls!" he crowed happily, nearly dancing down the road in front of his partner. "Lots and lots of lovely girls and lots 'n lots of lovely flowers! Is this a festival or what? Girls 'n flowers, flowers 'n girls, girls wearing flowers and hopefully not much else..." his voice trailed off as he admired the visions flitting through his mind.

Hercules had to chuckle. "I'm sure the town fathers will be impressed with your appreciation of the local flora," Hercules teased.

"Huh?" Iolaus shook himself out of his trance and fell into step next to Herc, giving the demigod a sly sideways glance.

"So," he said casually, "Who's Flora and how'd she get more than one father? Another of your crackpot relatives you've conveniently forgotten to mention until now?"

Hercules shook his head. "Flora," he began patiently, "Isn't a girl's name; it means flowers and pla..." he trailed off as he realized he had been had. "You are impossible, you know that?"

Iolaus grinned. "Yep, part of my charm," he agreed with a giggle. "Doesn't change the fact I had you going there, big guy. I gotcha! Admit it!"

Hercules just shook his head with good-natured weariness, making no comment. He smiled as Iolaus filled the friendly silence with a happy wordless, and mostly tuneless, song.

"So," Iolaus interrupted himself briskly, "Any idea what 'Dite wants?" He nudged the scroll tucked into the larger man's waistband.

"Nope," Herc replied with a shrug.

"She's somehow connected to this Flower Festival, isn't she?" the hunter asked casually.

"I believe so. You think this has something to do with the festival?"

"Gods, I hope so!" the blonde replied fervently.

"Huh? Why? I know 'Dite's probably your favorite among my relatives, but..."

"But nothing! Think, Herc! What happens EVERY time you make an appearance at one of these shindigs? You're asked to judge something!"

"So?" Hercules asked, clearly puzzled.

"So?! This isn't the Flower Festival, Herc; it's the Flower MAIDEN Festival! Dozens of lovely young ladies all hoping to be the next Flower Maiden, and who better to judge the candidates than the oh-so-honest-and-fair-and-wise Hercules, son of Zeus! And who would be better qualified to help him in that crucial appreciation of feminine charms than..." Iolaus paused breathlessly, prompting his partner with a 'go-on-already' look.

"You." Herc finished, unable to keep the amusement from his voice. "You're hoping that 'Dite wants me to judge some beauty contest just so you can help? I mean it, you are totally impossible!"

"Hey, a guy can hope, can't he?" Iolaus continued to bounce down the road, unconcerned with his friend's response, though he grinned to himself when he heard Herc mutter behind him "If I let you anywhere near them, half of 'em wouldn't qualify for Flower Maiden before the day was up!"

Meanwhile, Ares was bored and Aphrodite was distracted. Individually, either of them in either condition was potentially dangerous, but together they formed a disaster looking for a place to happen.

'Dite lay, stomach down, in the center of the huge, heart-shaped bed that dominated her Olympian boudoir. Around it were scattered numerous reclining couches and loveseats but only one lonely chair, an overstuffed number covered in pink cabbage roses. It was currently occupied by the black leather clad figure of Ares, looking just a bit out of place. He had one leg draped over one of the chair's arms and was rhythmically bouncing his heel against the chair's side as he idly toyed with a small dagger, tapping it end over end against one thigh. Twirling a ringlet with the fingers of one hand, 'Dite was industriously scribbling away on a scroll with the other, while lazily kicking one leg in the air.

The Goddess of Love was busy with paperwork. While only Hades made such a big production of it, all the gods were saddled with a least a little paperwork. 'Dite had less than most, but, not being a paperwork kind of gal, she tended to let the stuff pile up until she was in danger of falling hopelessly behind. Then she would dedicate several days to playing catch-up, as she was doing now.

"Want to play?" Ares asked hopefully.

"Nah, can't, busy," 'Dite shook her head, then smiled apologetically.

"Yeah, I know, but can't you let it slide for a while? Live a little. Be a bad girl, 'Dite. Works for me!" Ares smiled wickedly.

"Can't."

Ares leaned forward. "'Dite, have I got an Amazon for you! Six feet if she's an inch, waist-length, flame-red hair, strong as a half a dozen men annnndd..." he trailed off temptingly.

'Dite tried not to look interested and failed. "And�?" she prompted.

"She wants a baby!" Ares finished. "I figured you could set her up with someone...special, if you know what I mean."

'Dite looked VERY tempted. "Who?"

"Perseus!"

"Grody! That wouldn't be fair to your Amazon!"

"She LIKES 'pretty boys'. And all SHE wants is the baby. Can't you see ol' 'gimme maidens' running like hell as she chases him up one side of Greece and down the other? Gotta say one thing for Old Jackass, he makes pretty babies. He's certainly made enough of 'em! C'mon, Sis, give my girl a chance at 'true love'!"

'Dite grinned. "Not a sweet and innocent maiden, huh?"

"Not a chance! She'll eat him up and spit him out!" Ares was grinning with anticipation. Like most of the rest of the family, he couldn't stand Perseus' guts.

'Dite sighed, a long, deep expression of real pain. The Goddess of Love may not have had a nasty bone in her body, but Perseus seemed to have as his life's goal finding every single not-so-nice bone and irritating it to death. 'Dite didn't like Perseus much, either. The Amazon sounded REALLY tempting. Still...

"It really wouldn't be fair to the poor Amazon, Bro. You know Perseus. He'd hurt her feelings for sure." 'Dite didn't like hurting people.

"You've got it wrong, Sis. I don't want you to put the whammy on HER, I want you to wait 'till she's run him ragged, then put the whammy on HIM!" Ares' grin grew even more wicked.

'Dite grinned back at that, the vision of the arrogant Perseus chasing a not-interested-sorry Amazon WAS rather delightful. "After she gets her baby?" she asked.

Ares shook his head. "Nah, before. Otherwise, no babe. She'll chase, but if he really doesn't want to after she's caught him, she won't force the issue."

'Dite thought that over. "But he's liable to do something really stupid, like try to kidnap her or something and then they'll end up killing him," she worried.

"And won't they be doing us all a favor should that happen?" Ares asked silkily.

"BRO!" 'Dite was shocked, really. She wouldn't mind making Old Jackass, as Ares had nicknamed him, miserable for a while, but she didn't want him dead.

Ares just shrugged, unrepentant. 'Dite chewed her lip.

"Tell you what, Hon. Wait 'till I finish all this yucky paperwork and I'll work out something. Maybe just a little whammy, not enough to get him killed, just enough to make him a little miserable. He deserves THAT, what with all the nasty stuff he gets away with."

Ares just shrugged again and went back to playing with his dagger, having lost interest.

"How did an Amazon come to ask you for help, anyway?" 'Dite asked curiously.

"She wants a 'pretty warrior'. Her words. Guess she figured if you want a warrior, you go to the God of War. Pretty warriors are in short supply, Sis. It came down to I either sic her on Perseus or on your 'Curly'."

"You wouldn't!"

"Nah. He likes all kinds and he's just crazy enough to go and fall in love with her on his own and she's�ah, spoken for, so to speak. Don't want the whole Amazon Nation ticked off at me." Ares replied with a grin.

'Dite grinned back. "Nice of you to want to help her, though," she pointed out. "Not really being your department and all."

He shrugged again. "It's all this nice Spring weather after the bad Winter. All my warriors are more interested in going off and making more warriors than they are making war. Nothing much going on, so I figured 'why not'? I get about as many petitions from Amazons as you do, so I always read the few I do get, just out of curiosity."

"Glad you're not angry at me about that, Bro."

"It's your job. Plus, even I know the next generation of warriors has to come from somewhere. Once they get it out of their systems, I've got some really great wars planned!" he sighed. "I just hope they get it out of their systems soon. You sure you don't want to play?"

"I really can't, Hon. Dad's been getting on my case for slacking off, and he won't let you help me anymore, so don't waste your breath asking." 'Dite sighed again and went back to her scroll. Ares frowned and grumbled a bit on that; he didn't mind helping his sister with her paperwork and he resented Zeus' decree that he couldn't. He had done it for centuries before their father had caught on to them and he hadn't messed anything up TOO badly, had he?

"Wanna wrestle?" he offered, hoping to tempt her.

'Dite laughed. "C'mon, Bro, I'm not the only person in the world, y'know! I'm not even the only god. Why don't you go play with someone else? Don't tell me everybody else is busy!"

"Might as well be," Ares grumbled. "What isn't busy hates my guts."

'Dite frowned. She could never understand this attitude that the other Olympians and most mortals had towards her brother. True, he could get cranky and growl a bit; but he had his good points, too. He had a killer sense of humor (unlike, say, her Uncle Hades), and he was capable of unexpected acts of kindness, rare though they were. He was even capable of love, something which most of the world wouldn't be willing to believe. And that came close to breaking Aphrodite's heart, because, besides herself, no-one loved Ares. She worried about that, a lot. She had hoped that he and Xena...but no, that didn't seem to be working out. Part of the problem was that Ares was difficult to know, too much of a walking paradox. But that wasn't his fault; it was the circumstances of his conception and birth that made him like he was.

Ares was the last child born to Zeus and Hera, conceived shortly after Hera's first discovery of Zeus' infidelities. He had promised never to look at another mortal woman and Hera had believed the promise and forgiven him. But Ares had been born after Hera learned the emptiness of Zeus' promises; after Hera's love had soured under what Zeus thought of as her 'unreasonable jealousy'. Ares had been conceived by a couple in love and born to a husband and wife at war with each other. By such things may the fates of unborn gods be changed. Instead of a God of Love, Zeus and Hera got a God of War. Zeus had somehow come to blame Ares himself for this, which even 'Dite knew was grossly unfair.

Ares needed more connection with his family, 'Dite believed. Problem was, most of them wanted nothing to do with him. Zeus and Hera were only interested in using his love of them to bend him to their respective wills, and he just plain creeped out many of the rest. Only 'Dite and Heph really liked him, and Hades and Artemis would tolerate him.

'Dite dropped her feather quill and cupped her chin in her palm, a small frown creasing her pretty brow. Surely she was missing something, somewhere. Somebody who would play with her favorite studmuffin brother, somebody who would make a good friend. Hmmm, studmuffins. There was Ares, that cute little Iolaus, Hercules...

"Hercules!" she cried, eyes bright with inspiration.

"What about the goody-two-shoes?" Ares asked suspiciously.

'Dite wriggled herself up into a sitting position and leaned forward eagerly, smile bursting into high-beam. Oh! This was gonna be sooo cool! It was perfect! How had she missed this? If Ares and Herckie made nice, then Ares would be nice to Curly, too; that was a given. And Herckie had all kinds of mortal relatives: that cute Jason, and that cuter Iphicles, and...oh! Iphie had kids! Ares would get to be an uncle again! Ares adored being an uncle (at least until the kid grew up to become Spite). This just kept getting better and better!

Because of the way she acted and dressed (and let's face it, she encouraged this) most people mistook the Goddess of Love for the Goddess of Sex, when any fool with half a brain knew that sex and love could exist quite independently of each other, thank you. Aphrodite was the Goddess of ALL love; platonic, romantic, and familial. Right now, the thought of all that lovely familial love was enough to cause 'Dite to shiver and wriggle with delight. She couldn't wait to share the cause of her excitement.

"You know how I'm always worrying that our baby bro doesn't feel like part of the family?" she began.

"Isn't he the lucky one?" Ares muttered. 'Dite ignored the comment.

"How this feud with Old Horse-Face is keeping him from his loving sibs?" she continued.

"Yeah, so? And quit calling my Mom 'Old Horse-Face', please, Sis."

Ooops! She gave him her very brightest smile and looked sheepish. "I meant to say Hera," she lied.

He accepted the apology. "Anyway, why are we talking about HIM, when I'M the one bored outta my brain, here?" Ares asked, eyes narrowed.

Still smiling, 'Dite crawled across the bed towards Ares, and rolled on her back when she came to the edge. Blonde curls cascading off the mattress, she tipped her head back and down, locking eyes with her brother.

"But what if someone, say a oh-so-studly god, showed our shy baby bro just how nice family can be?" she suggested in a purr.

Ares frowned at his sister, puzzled, for a long moment. What was going through that head this time? Then it hit him and astonishment replaced confusion.

"YOU want ME to be NICE to HERCULES?!" Surely he had misheard?

"Think about it, Sweetie. If this works, he'll be one more on your list of potential playmates," she pointed out. "And who knows, it might... oh! Bro! MAYBE this might even end up patching up Dad and Hera!"

"Thought you hated my Mom," Ares shot back.

"I don't like her, that's true, but I love you and Dad and this is making both of you miserable. Wouldn't it be better if they weren't fighting all the time?"

Ares really gave the matter some thought and what he thought were all the reasons it couldn't possibly work.

"What makes you think the Prince of Perfect is even gonna give me half a chance? Our relationship has been, ahem, rocky at best," he pointed out, just in case she'd forgotten a few past incidents.

"Meaning 'think he'll forget all those times I've made his life miserable'? Probably not, but he has a forgiving soul, you know." She looked at Ares for a moment, then asked quietly, "Why did you do that, Bro? You really don't hate him or Curly."

"Who told you that lie?" Ares growled.

"Hon, I'm the Goddess of Love. I know these things." Ares averted his eyes, suddenly fascinated by the non-existent wallpaper. "Hera?" 'Dite asked gently. "Or something Daddy said?" The God of War didn't answer. "He doesn't really hate you, either."

Ares looked at her, disbelief written across his features. Then he shook his head. "Iolaus won't buy it even if Hercules does, 'Dite. Our brother's pet mortal is a real regular little guard dog." Ares countered.

"Hey! Just 'cause he has those cute puppy-dog eyes doesn't make him one!"

"Whatever. Wildcat, then. Better?" Ares glowered at his sister, who surprised him by bursting into another radiant smile.

"You'll do it, then?!" she exclaimed, waving the scroll she had been writing on. "Herckie's on his way to my temple as we speak. He and Curly are going to the Flower Maiden Festival and I sent word for him to meet me when he reached the village. I was going to ask him to judge the beauty contest, but Sweetcheeks can do that while you make nicey-nice with our baby bro!"

"Whoa! When did I say I would do it?" Ares demanded.

"You didn't say you wouldn't, which with you is the same as saying you would," 'Dite announced smugly.

Ares just stared at her. "You know, Sis, some people think you're a ditz?"

She just grinned.

Ares rolled his eyes and gave up. "All right, I'll give it a try," he sighed.

"Excellent!" 'Dite exclaimed. Hopping off the bed, she bustled across the room to open the doors of a towering cabinet. Reaching in, she scooped out an armful of scrolls, which she dumped into Ares' lap. "Better do some homework, Studly," she suggested.

"Homework?!" Ares exclaimed.

"To find out what you and Herckie have in common," she explained.

"A father." Ares replied flatly.

"What else," 'Dite insisted.

"'Dite, I don't need to do 'homework'," Ares protested, waving one of the scrolls. The tie broke and it unrolled. "I'm a god, I know everythin...WHOA!" He took a second, much closer look at the scroll in his hand. "I didn't know that!" he admitted, whistling. He twisted the scroll sideways, then upside down. Casting a sly smile at his sister, he complimented, "Good work!" She peeked over his shoulder and giggled. "Boredom, the Mother of Inspiration!"

"Well," Ares observed, squinting at the scroll with one eye, "You were certainly inspired that day!"

She giggled again, and playfully slapped his shoulder.

"With Herckie, you have to do homework!" she insisted again.

"Oh, come on, 'Dite, are you trying to tell me Hercules has done this?" He waved the scroll.

She surprised him by snatching the scroll away and briskly rolling it up. "Yep!" she told him, "That WAS Herckie!"

"WHAT?! Give that back!" Ares lunged out of the chair, spilling scrolls all over, but 'Dite had already dashed back to the cabinet and tossed the scroll in. Slamming the door, she locked it and secured the key in the one place she was certain it would be safe- facing her brother with playful defiance, she dropped it down her cleavage.

"That one shouldn't have been in with that bunch," she calmly explained to the sputtering Ares.

"Who was that with him?" Ares asked. "Blondie?"

'Dite giggled. "No, Silly, that was Deianaera! That was their wedding night!"

Ares whistled again. "They got up to THAT on their wedding night?! I always knew that Deianaera was one hot little number, which is why I never could figure out what she saw in Hercules."

"Ah, Deianaera," 'Dite sighed, "One of the best initiates I ever had. It was love at first sight with those two, just like him and Curly. I didn't even mind. After all, if you can't lose a priestess to your favorite brother, present company excepted, who can you lose her to?"

"Deianaera was one of your priestesses?" This was news to Ares.

"Novice. New initiate. Promising career cut short. But a very fast learner."

"I'll say!"

'Dite grinned up at her brother and wagged a finger at him. "Back to work, Bro! Go on!" She shoo'd him back to the mess on the floor.

Ares eyed the pile of scrolls, then grinned as a wonderful thought occurred to him. If 'Dite could miss one of her 'special' scrolls, she might have missed another. He started picking up, unwrapping and scanning scrolls.

Back on the bed, 'Dite regarded her brother fondly. When he pulled up one of the reclining couches to perch on the edge as he read one of the scrolls, chuckling to himself, she beamed. This was going to be sooo excellent! It was going to work, she just knew it! Giggling happily, she went back to her paperwork.

Iolaus beamed at his companions. This was turning out to be a really great day!

When he had parted from Hercules outside the village, Iolaus had become a little depressed. Festivals were great if you were by yourself, but they were even better shared. Herc, however, had a tendency to become a little uneasy in large crowds of strangers, especially if he was the center of attention, which he usually was. Iolaus had been afraid Herc would use his meeting with Aphrodite as an excuse to miss the whole festival. Herc could never seem to understand that Iolaus enjoyed these things much more with Herc in tow. He truly thought he was doing his more extroverted friend a favor whenever he pulled one of his disappearing acts. Iolaus, mindful of Herc's Guilt Quotient, had never had the heart to tell his friend the truth. It would only give the demigod one more thing to feel guilty about, and Iolaus didn't want to be the cause of that.

But, to Iolaus' great delight, he had barely stepped foot through the city gates before running into Xena and Gabrielle. Gabrielle, it turned out, was following her Bardic urges and wanted to write a scroll about the history and pageantry of the Flower Maiden Festival. Xena had come along to keep Gabby company.

"Why didn't you just let her come by herself?" Iolaus asked an obviously bored-out-of-her-brain Xena while Gabby was busy chatting with some festival-goers. Xena hated festivals as much as Herc; more so, in fact. At least if the festival was in Thebes or some other place where they had been before, Herc would relax and enjoy himself. Xena ALWAYS looked bored.

"You mean like Hercules lets you?" Xena rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Iolaus, that always works out sooo well."

"Hey! Anyway, at least Herc acknowledges that I'm an adult. Sometimes."

"Sometimes you're an adult?"

"Very funny, Xena. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do. Listen, it isn't that I don't think Gabrielle isn't an adult; it's that she's an innocent one and she's mortal. She dies, she stays dead. I don't think Hercules' familial connections are going to extend to a friend of a friend and I'm not a goddess. So, I stay where I can keep an eye on her, okay?"

The blonde hunter had snorted at that, but couldn't think of anything to say. Xena had hit a sore spot with that 'familial connections' bit, but what could he say about that? Iolaus himself didn't know quite what to make of Herc's steadfast determination to never let him stay dead. He had learned long ago that there were some things Herc just plain wouldn't talk about, not even to him, and this was one of them. Iolaus had long held the suspicion that if Herc ever made it to full Godhood, he would be the God of Stubborn Silences.

Then Gabrielle had returned with the news that she was going to talk to the contestants themselves and someone had recognized Iolaus (him! not Friend of Hercules, but Iolaus of Thebes!) and he and Xena had been politely hustled to the town Lord, who turned out to be a plump, good-natured gentleman with a problem. He was due to judge the Flower Maiden Contest, but his own daughter was one of the contestants, so that would never do. Would the famous hero, Iolaus of Thebes, consider judging in his stead?

Would he?! Of course he would!

"Is there a talent section?" Iolaus asked with a sly glance at Xena.

"Yes," the Lord answered, smiling.

"Umm, might need some help with that. Xena, could you help judge the talent section?" Iolaus asked sweetly.

"Any of them demonstrating fighting techniques?" the Warrior Princess asked laconically.

"Ah, no," the flustered Lord replied, glancing from Iolaus to Xena and back again. "Two or three will be singing, and..."

"Singing I can do," Xena interrupted.

"Really?" the Lord sounded surprised, then back-paddled, "I mean, of course you..."

"Xena's really a great singer!" Iolaus interrupted. "Hey, maybe you could sing?" he suggested brightly.

"Maybe I couldn't." she replied flatly. She could see where this was going.

"Aw, c'mon, Xena? One song? Just one little song? Provide inspiration for all those future Flower Maidens?"

"We would be honored if you would consider it," the town Lord hastily added.

Xena sighed. Iolaus was pulling his aw-please puppy-dog look on her, the same look that never failed to grind Hercules' best intentions into dust. Xena had always found it funny when Hercules had to deal with Iolaus in full Manipulation Mode, but now she was realizing it was working just as well on her.

"Maybe. One Song. A very short one," she said, accepting defeat.

"That'll be wonderful!" Iolaus exclaimed. "When does the contest start?"

"In about an hour or so," replied a relieved Lord quickly.

"Great! We'll see you there!"

"Thanks a bunch!" Xena snarled as soon as the pleasant Lord was out of hearing range.

"Hey, look at it this way; now Gabrielle can mention you in her scroll. She'll like that!" Iolaus pointed out.

Xena smiled slightly. "Yeah, she will at that. Okay, then, what do we do for the next hour?"

"There's an ale-house across the square. You can get an ale and practice your song at the same time." Iolaus pointed the way.

"Sounds good, you coming?" Xena asked.

"Nah, I'm going shopping. Herc and I had a tiff and I need a good make-up gift," the hunter replied, nodding towards a nearby stall. "I'm going to look at some wristbands."

Xena looked and frowned, puzzled. "Those are bracelets. You wearing bracelets now, too? I thought you stuck with earrings."

"No, those are wristbands."

"They're bracelets, Iolaus. I know bracelets when I see them."

Iolaus grinned. "You only think you do. Those are wristbands."

"Bracelets." Xena insisted stubbornly.

"Wristbands," Iolaus insisted with equal stubbornness. "Maybe if you or Gabrielle were wearing them, then they'd be bracelets, but if Herc is wearing them, then they're wristbands."

"Who came up with THAT?" Xena asked.

"Herc's Mom."

"Why would Alcmene say something stupid like that?"

"Wasn't stupid. When Herc was little, he liked wearing his Mom's things; lots of little kids do. Made him feel closer to her or something. Anyway, she would never let him wear any of that stuff out of the house, but one day he found a couple of her old bracelets. She figured those were safe enough, so she let him wear them out to play in the village. Well, the other kids jumped right on that and started teasing him about them, so Alcmene told him that boys don't wear bracelets, they wear wristbands, so he had nothing to be ashamed of. It stuck, and now he insists those things are wristbands."

"And the other kids bought that line of bull and quit teasing him?" Xena asked skeptically.

"Not a word," Iolaus admitted cheerfully. "They quit teasing him when I found out they were doing it."

"So, what do you call them? Wristbands or bracelets?"

"Gifts. Herc likes 'em, so I'm going to get him a pair."

Xena gave up and walked off, shaking her head in wonder and trying to picture a mini-Hercules running all over Thebes wearing his Mother's 'wristbands'.

Iolaus rubbed his hands together in anticipation and went off to find Herc a lovely pair of bracelets.

Hercules approached Aphrodite's temple with caution. It wasn't that he feared danger of a physical nature, but he knew that when 'Dite was around there was always the risk of extreme embarrassment.

It was a pretty little temple, he found himself thinking with approval. Neat white marble was offset by banks of flowering bushes. Likewise, the path leading to the door was lined with smaller bushes, all in full flower. The only sign that this was the Temple of the Goddess of Love was the gold gilded door and the two tiny golden representations of Cupid as an infant that perched at either corner of the ledge over the door.

Hercules paused for a moment to admire the tiny figures, wondering why the builders would chose to show Cupid as a child, not an adult. Then it came to him. Hercules had never known Cupid as a babe. Notwithstanding that the God of Love constantly addressed the demi-god as 'Uncle', the truth was that Cupid was many decades the elder. Nearly a dozen of them, in fact.

Hercules regarded the neat little temple with new respect. After all, it had stood over a hundred years.

It had been while in the village of North Fork, manifesting in mortal form and answering a particularly desperate plea for help from a young girl, that 'Dite had gone into labor with Cupid. Unable to summon the concentration to transport herself to Olympus, nearly blinded by unfamiliar pain, and being on the outs with Hera, 'Dite had been frightened half to death. That is, until the local healer and midwife had realized what was happening and 'Dite had found herself bustled into her own temple by kindly mortals.

They had thrown soft quilts onto the altar, brought her cups of soothing tea laced with painkilling herbs, and took turns holding her hands and otherwise providing all-around comfort. When Cupid had finally made his appearance, he had been cleaned, oooh'd and ahh'd over and taken to the temple door where the new godling had been introduced to, and admired by, most of the population of the village.

In gratitude, 'Dite had showered blessings on the village. One guaranteed that each generation would produce a bumper crop of lovely and lovable young men and women. Another caused the lovely blooms that had been the most common tribute to the Goddess to thrive throughout the village and surrounding countryside, making the place something of a tourist spot.

But the last blessing was in many minds the best. Any couple desirous of children, but not blessed with them, had only to express that love on the very altar upon which 'Dite had given birth to Cupid to ensure the conception and healthy birth of as many children as they truly longed for. In one spectacular case the total had ended up somewhere around the two dozen mark.

"One hundred percent success rate, guaranteed," the goddess had assured her half-brother.

The memory brought with it a touch of sadness. The whole conversation had taken place because Hercules had been trying to help his best friend. Iolaus and Anya had found it frustrating that though both wanted children and they had tried often and fervently, yet they had not been blessed by even one. Iolaus had confided his puzzlement over the situation to Hercules.

On reflection, Hercules had been considerably less puzzled and more concerned. Iolaus had many relationships with a variety of women before meeting and falling madly in love with Anya, yet not one had resulted in a child. He had never even worried for an instant that any would. Hercules had worried, going so far as to quietly check on as many of the ladies as possible a year or so later, but not a single blonde babe had turned up. Iolaus had an explanation for that, an explanation that definitely would not apply with Anya. Finally, an unconvinced Hercules had worked up the nerve to visit one of 'Dite's temples. When he had explained the problem in the most delicate terms he could manage, 'Dite had grown thoughtful. Then she had suggested that Hercules convince Iolaus and Anya to accompany him to the Flower Maiden Festival. He was to get the happy couple into this very temple, excuse himself on some pretext, and let Iolaus' nature take its course.

However, Iolaus, intent on making a go of his farm and his forge, had refused to take the time to travel halfway across Greece without a good reason and Hercules couldn't think of one that didn't involve the bald truth and the demigod's suspicion.

"Boy, who would have thought Sweetcheeks could be so stubborn?" 'Dite had complained before zipping herself to the temple and breaking off a tiny bit of the marble altar with her own hand. She had given this to Hercules, instructing him to slip it into the couple's mattress at the first opportunity.

"But don't tell them, Bro," 'Dite had advised. "I don't want to get their hopes up. If they won't go there, I can't guarantee anything. This just helps increase the odds a little." Whether it had been the piece of altar or just persistence, Anya had become pregnant shortly afterwards. After Anya's death, Hercules had removed the bit of altarstone, dropping it into he grave during the funeral. Iolaus had never even known about it.

Heaving a long, sad sigh, the demigod closed his eyes, resting palms and forehead against the cool wood of the gilded door for a long moment before purposely shuttling the memory away in the back of his mind. Gently, he pushed open the door and peeked inside.

Hercules was relieved to see the wall frescoes depicted The Birth of Cupid, not the usual couples locked in various poses of passion. Herc was always embarrassed by what 'Dite considered appropriate temple art, and even more embarrassed by Iolaus' frank fascination with said art. That, in fact, had been the cause of the partners' latest tiff. Hercules KNEW taking refuge in 'Dite's temple had been a bad idea, though it had seemed reasonable at the time.

They had been caught in a terrible thunderstorm just outside a small village a few days ago at dusk. 'Dite's temple had been even smaller than this one, but, like most of her temples, it was warm, dry, and kept in good condition. Iolaus had been thrilled just to get out of the driving rain, though Herc had argued for going on to the village. Once inside, the demigod couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse to abandon the shelter, especially as the storm had worsened. Iolaus had insisted on spending the night and they had shared the altar. That hadn't been so bad, but the next morning revealed that the single storm had turned into a whole line of them, battering the countryside non-stop and stranding the heroes. Food had not been a problem, and certainly not fresh water, but boredom was. Soon after breakfast Iolaus, undoubtedly inspired by the amazingly detailed frescoes adorning the walls and ceiling, had launched into one of his periodic lectures on The Certain Cultural Differences Between the Exotic East and Greece. Long before the noon meal, Hercules was heartily sick of hearing about those Cultural Differences. After lunch, the demigod had decided the only way to get Iolaus to shut up already without putting it in just those words was to take a nap. Surprisingly, the hunter had joined him, at least for a while. A few hours later, Herc had awoken to find that Iolaus had produced a scroll and quill from somewhere in the depths of his pack and was carefully copying some of the more exotic positions for, he claimed, 'future reference'.

Herc felt his cheeks grow warm as he recalled Iolaus' insistence that the demi-god give his opinion as to whether one specific pose was actually possible or was just 'rampant imagination' on the artist's part. There had been no way the shy Hercules was about to admit that he knew from first-hand experience that not only was it possible, it really wasn't nearly as difficult as it looked. THAT would have started a whole new conversation that Herc was anxious to avoid, if possible. Instead, he had ignored the whole question and started dinner. That's when the situation had taken a turn for the worse.

The hunter had continued around the temple, examining the frescoes carefully while keeping up a cheerful stream of comments that his partner did his best to tune out. Then, when he came to the section directly over the altar, Iolaus had grown strangely quiet. Curious, Herc had risen and crept behind his partner to peek over his shoulder at what could possibly be so very fascinating. That had proved to be a mistake.

The modest Hercules had done his best to ignore the wall decorations all around him; he certainly hadn't looked as closely as Iolaus at any of them, even the ones near the altar. So, the demigod was shocked by what his friend had discovered.

"Those guys sure look like they're having fun, don't they?" Iolaus had giggled, gently grasping Herc's gauntlet for emphasis. The blonde had turned and grinned wickedly at his friend, a glint in his eye. Hercules had gasped and turned beet-red. He was mortified to see that ALL the frescoes in the immediate vicinity of the altar featured the antics of 'those guys'. The same altar that he and Iolaus had slept on the night before. The same altar they had just napped on. The same altar they had intended to spend a second night on.

That night, Hercules had slept on the floor, alone. Iolaus had sat on the altar, working on his scroll, far into the night. The hunter seemed innocently puzzled at his friend's reaction and a little hurt by Herc's declaration the next day that if Iolaus was going to pull nonsense like that, then he wasn't accompanying the demigod on any more visits to 'Dite's temples. Which was why Herc had gone to this meeting alone.

'I over-reacted,' Hercules thought ruefully. He hadn't meant to snap at Iolaus like that. It was just that the shock of the moment had reminded Hercules of one of the worst days of his life.

It had been been the year after the break-up of their friendship, a year after the day Iolaus had called him a 'freak' to his face. Herc, home from Cheiron's Academy, had seen Iolaus across the market square, but the blonde had looked away when the demi-god tried to make eye contact. When Herc had started across the square, Iolaus had vanished into an alley. Going away to the Academy, to all those strangers, had made Hercules miss Iolaus even more. The young demigod had decided that he would confront his former friend and find out what he had said or done to make Iolaus so mad at him. Then he would do his best to undo it. Hercules wanted his friend back. So, he had gone to Iolaus' home. Iolaus hadn't been there, but Skouros had.

"So you're looking for the runt, heh, boy?" Skouros swayed a little in the doorway and Hercules could tell that the man was drunk. In the year since their break-up, Hercules had learned a few things about his friend's homelife that Iolaus had successfully kept secret from him. So, Herc wasn't shocked to find Iolaus' Dad drunk. But what Skouros said next did shock him.

"Don't bother, freak, he doesn't want to be found. Especially by the likes of you," the older man had growled.

"Please, sir, I just want to speak to Iolaus," Hercules had timidly replied. Truth to tell, Skouros was scaring him.

"You don't get it, do you?" Skouros' face had darkened and he stepped threateningly towards Hercules, who backed up nervously.

"Can't you get it through your thick skull? My son wants no part of you, freak! He's afraid of you!" Skouros grinned nastily and waved the wineskin at the speechless Hercules. "Boy's finally showing some common sense! Get out of here, ox! He's not going to be your pretty little boy anymore!" Skouros had elaborated, but Hercules hadn't understood most of what the warrior said after that. It hadn't mattered; he had understood the important part.

'He's afraid of you.'

Hercules had fled and he had never gone back, never seen Skouros alive again. He had cried himself to sleep that night and for many nights afterwards. He had never told Alcmene, had never intended to tell anybody, but Jason heard his muffled sobs and had finally gently pried the story out of him. It had been Jason who had comforted him and finally convinced Hercules that he wasn't a frightening 'freak'.

But for years afterwards, Hercules was certain that Iolaus thought he was.

Then Iolaus had come to the Academy, and their friendship had healed itself. It wasn't until years later that Hercules had learned the meanings of some of the other words Skouros had used that day. Hercules never used any of those words himself, ever.

Hercules had never told Iolaus about that day, and as the years passed, he became more determined that he never would. Skouros had lied; Iolaus had never been afraid of him, of that Herc was certain. But Iolaus never told Herc why he had broken up their friendship, and Hercules, afraid of losing him again, never asked, so the demigod was far less certain about the other claims Skouros had made. Had, or did, Iolaus believe any of them? Hercules didn't know, and couldn't bring himself to ask.

'He didn't mean anything. That was just Iolaus being Iolaus, that's all. I owe him a huge apology. All he did was point at some stupid pictures on a wall, and I went ballistic. What's wrong with me?' Herc wondered. Well, maybe 'Dite could suggest some way to say 'I'm sorry I acted like an idiot, Iolaus' without actually saying "I'm sorry I acted like an idiot, Iolaus".

"'Dite?" he called softly. Receiving no answer, he edged fully inside and allowed the door to swing closed behind him as he scanned the temple floor.

The locals had done 'Dite proud. The corners and walls were filled with huge arrangements of multi-colored blooms. The far wall was dominated by an extra-wide altar that stood hip-high to the demigod. Unusually, it was covered with a cushy pink padded cover, with a pretty quilt folded neatly at the foot. Combined with the tasseled pillows at the head, the whole effect was less like an altar and more like a bed.

'Which,' Hercules reflected wryly, 'Is about what it really is." Come to think of it, he was a bit surprised that all 'Dite's altars weren't so equipped.

Spaced about between the flower arrangements were several small tables, their surfaces holding bowls of fruit, candles, goblets, and bottles of what he presumed were wine. One table within reach of the altar was filled with small vials of scented oil. A good-sized brazier was shoved into a corner, ready to be moved into the center of the floor to provide both light and warmth as needed.

"Well," Herc murmured to himself, "This is really cozy." He gingerly sat on the altar's edge, testing the pad. He smiled to himself, wondering if 'Dite would mind if he and Iolaus spent the night here, instead of camping in the woods. That would be one step towards an apology and the altar was considerably more comfortable than a bedroll on the ground. For that matter, it was more comfortable than most of the beds in the various inns that they had stayed in. A sight cleaner, too. These past few years of near nonstop traveling about had given Hercules a whole new appreciation of cleanliness in all its forms.

He picked among the bottles of scented oils, finally finding one with an aroma of spice and citrus. He rubbed a bit of it along his breastbone and beneath his arms. They had bathed in a stream just this morning, but Hercules was very aware that his leathers could stand a change. Add to that the walk to the village and the warmth of the day and Herc figured a little scented oil couldn't hurt.

Where was 'Dite?

Last night had been uncomfortable. Herc was convinced that every single small, sharp rock in Greece had found its way beneath his bedroll to poke into various parts of his anatomy and there had been a nip in the Spring night air. Afraid that Iolaus was still miffed at him, Herc hadn't had the nerve to ask the hunter if he wanted to share body warmth. Hercules hadn't slept well at all; hadn't slept well for the last couple of nights, in fact.

The temple was warm and dim; the demi-god was drowsy; and the altar was more inviting by the minute.

'Well,' Herc reasoned to himself, 'If 'Dite's going to be late she really can't blame me if I make myself comfortable while I wait. I'm not going to take a nap. I'm just going to lie down and rest my eyes a moment or two. If she's not here in ten minutes, I'm leaving. Really. Just ten more minutes.'

Five minutes later he was snoring softly as a bemused Ares gazed down on his peacefully sleeping face.

Iolaus was having the time of his life, winking, smiling, and otherwise flirting with every one of the twelve contestants. Each one, he would swear, was lovelier than the last. Surely the voluptuous redhead was just a bit more lovely that the statuesque blonde with the flashing green eyes? Wasn't the blonde even more gorgeous than the petite, dark-skinned girl with the wicked smile? How was he ever going to chose just one of these beauties?

"Think they'd buy a twelve-way tie?" he asked Xena.

Xena just yawned, feeling the effects of the ale.

After all the girls had been introduced and paraded around the stage, there was a short break as they prepared for the talent competition. Gabrielle wrinkled her nose, giving Xena a little wave and a smile before disappearing into the contestants' tent to observe the preparations. Xena sent her a little wave and a rather bleary smile back.

Xena yawned again, stood, and arched her back to stretch out a kink. With a bored sigh, she dropped back down onto the bench next to Iolaus, who was gazing at nothing with a dazzled expression plastered on his face.

"So, did you get Hercules his bracelets?" she asked.

"Wristbands," Iolaus corrected absently.

"Wristbands," she agreed amicably.

The blonde hunter shook himself slightly, snapping back to reality.

"Yeah! Wanna see?" he offered eagerly, detaching two small velvet bags from his belt and passing them to Xena.

She shook the bracelets...no, wristbands...out onto the table in front of them. They were quite lovely and unusual; composed of ribbons of silver entwined and twisted into an intricate pattern. In the center of each was a large, sky-blue stone that Xena could swear was the exact match to the demigod's eyes.

"Nice," she complimented both the craftsman and Iolaus' taste with the single word.

"Thanks," the hunter replied, accepting the compliment in kind.

"I forgot to ask. When does Hercules wear these 'wristbands'?"

A frown of confusion crossed the hunter's pleasant face. "What do you mean, 'when'? He wears them all the time!"

"Does not."

"Does too!"

"I've never seen them!"

"They're right there, Xena!" Iolaus clasped his left wrist with his right hand to demonstrate. Seeing the puzzlement in the woman's eyes, he clarified, "Over his gauntlets!"

"Oh! You know, I never really noticed them. I thought they were part of the gauntlets."

"See how sneaky he can be?" Iolaus asked mischievously, tucking the bracelets back into their bags.

'Alright! Ares thought gleefully as he gazed down on his sleeping half-brother. 'He's down and he's out! Now all I have to do is make it permanent!' He grinned wickedly as a fireball formed in his hand. He hefted it, wound up and...caught himself.

"Whoa! Down, boy!" the God of War muttered to himself. He backed away from the sleeping demigod, staring at the fireball in his hand. What had just happened here? He had been just fine with the 'make nice with Hercules' notion until he had popped in and found Hercules asleep and defenseless. Then the 'kill the little bastard' impulse had kicked in and Ares had gone on automatic.

"I've got to watch myself or I'm gonna end up as crazy as Mom and Callisto," he thought, shuddering slightly.

He looked back at the sleeping figure. Like this, he reminded Ares of the trusting little boy the War God had met not so long ago, at least by Ares' standards of time.

'Maybe I'm already crazy. Just when did I go from 'maybe I can be a brother to this one' to 'kill the little bastard'?' Ares wondered. For the immortal life of him, the War God couldn't place when the change had taken place.

'I should just leave. Sleeping Beauty over there won't even know I was here. Except...' Except he had promised his sister he would at least try to make nice. He hated to let 'Dite down, and if he didn't stick around and at least give the effort a go she would be terribly disappointed. Ares became truly distressed when his sister got upset, which was another reason he tried to keep her and Hera as far apart as possible. The dark god sighed. 'Give it up, Ares. You're stuck.'

He pondered how to get this over with. 'Find something you both like', 'Dite had advised and he had. Both he and Hercules liked wrestling. Problem was, Hercules preferred the 'slow and easy' approach to things, and even Ares had to admit to himself that jumping his snoozing brother while bellowing "Get ready to rumble!" would probably not strike Hercules as 'slow and easy'.

'There must be some way to work up to that,' Ares thought, eyeing Hercules dubiously. Ares sniffed, nose wrinkling. Boy, Herc's leathers were overdue for a change; a clean breechcloth would only go so far. Still, underneath that, he didn't smell so bad. Part of that was his own natural scent, but there was something else.

Scented oil, Ares realized. Hercules had rubbed on some of the scented oil, something citrusy and spicey. It suited him, blending in nicely with his own natural scent.

The oil gave Ares an idea. Picking through the vials, he found the one with the spicey scent. It was a fairly large one, and nearly full. Perfect. Ares' 'homework' had revealed that Hercules adored backrubs. Both Alcmene and Deianeira had indulged him, but Iolaus was another matter entirely. Despite the demi-god's best efforts to coax his partner, Iolaus shied away from the whole backrub issue. Even Hercules' offers to return the favor had failed to sway the hunter.

'Dite had offered some of her attendants, but the shy demigod had refused the offer. Apparently, the thought of a total stranger touching him made Hercules nervous.

Ares smiled. He enjoyed a good backrub himself and he certainly didn't mind giving them. Properly done, that couldn't fail to impress his good intentions on his brother, now could it? Plus, it would get Hercules all nice and warmed up for the wrestling.

'Slow and easy,' he reminded himself. First thing to do was get rid of those clothes; with a flick of the wrist they vanished, leaving Hercules his breechcloth for modesty's sake. Hercules was nothing if not modest.

Now, how to get the big lug to roll over without waking him? This would work better if Hercules didn't wake up until Ares had started, otherwise he was liable to refuse to give Ares a chance. Cautiously, Ares poked Herc's ribs and Herc twitched. He tickled the ribs lightly and the demi-god rolled away from the contact and onto his stomach, arms tucked under the pillow, cradling it to his cheek.

Shrugging off his vest, Ares draped it over the brazier, then removed his gauntlets, tossing them on top of the vest. No use getting oil all over everything. Picking up the vial, he tipped a large dollop into his palm. After carefully stoppering the vial and replacing it, he rubbed his palms together to coat both hands.

Smiling, he leaned over the sleeping Hercules to gently trace Herc's spine and stroke the back of his neck.

Iolaus and Xena craned their necks to watch the ascent and descent of the strange little staff the current contestant was throwing and twirling as her talent. Down it came, but instead of dropping into the girl's outstretched hand it clobbered some poor sot in the first row in the dead center of his forehead. He staggered slightly, eyes crossing.

Angrily, the voluptuous redhead snatched up the abbreviated staff from the corner of the stage where it had landed after bouncing off the bystander's skull. Marching up to the judge's table, she threw it down and proceeded to stomp on it in frustration.

Her score instantly shot up, as both Xena and Iolaus could appreciate a really good temper tantrum when they saw one.

"I HATE this nonsense!" the redhead stormed at her frowning mother, who stood just to the side of the stage curtains. "Why do I have to be lady-like and dainty? Why couldn't I have just demonstrated the fighting techniques the boys taught me?!"

Turning to the table, she explained in a very frustrated tone, "I'm really much better with a fighting staff than this little thing!"

A huge grin split the Warrior Princess' face as she vaulted over the table with a delighted whoop.

Hercules came awake slowly, smiling dreamily into the pillow. He felt good all over, relaxed and happy and ohhh, his back....

He wriggled a little, happily, as a pleasurable shiver went down his spine. He could feel strong, gentle fingers probing and caressing the muscles in his neck and shoulders, loosening the stiffness there from too many nights spent sleeping on the hard ground.

This felt wonderful. What had he done to finally get Iolaus to give him a backrub? He had better remember soon, so he could be sure to do it again. Then he recalled their tiff of a couple of nights ago.

'Oh, he's beaten me to the apology,' the demigod thought guiltily. This wasn't fair; he had been the one in the wrong, not Iolaus. His friend shouldn't have had to make the first move.

The fingers moved down, smoothing the lower muscles of his back. Another delicious shiver, this one dancing up his spine, not down. Hercules sighed softly, wriggling again. Ohh, he owed Iolaus for this.

Dimly, he realized that the wonderful scent hovering around him was the spicy scented oil. He must have fallen asleep after all. Iolaus had come looking for him and, scenting the oil on him, acted on impulse. As usual.

Hercules breathed in the wonderful scent as fingers moved upwards to gently stroke the back of his neck. The shiver was back and it had brought a friend, a delightful tingle that spread warmly to his chest.

This was so kind and nice of Iolaus, so typical. Hercules still couldn't figure out why Iolaus had acted so oddly to the notion of backrubs, but the demigod had to admit, his friend was good at them.

'Guess he was paying attention during his trip to the East after all,' Hercules thought happily. It had been Iolaus' mention of getting 'massages' from some of the women he had met on his trip that had put the notion of mutual backrubs into Herc's head to begin with. Herc was a lot more comfortable with the idea of Iolaus giving him a rub-down than some total stranger. Strangely, Iolaus wasn't, to Herc's bewilderment. Something about it not being the same thing. Hercules couldn't puzzle that one out at all. What could he possibly do to thank Iolaus for this and to make up for the awful way he had acted earlier?

'A fishing trip,' the demigod decided. A nice, long fishing trip. Iolaus loved fishing.

'And I'll cook dinner every night,' Hercules added. Iolaus loved being waited on, too.

They would leave as soon as the festival ended. Herc wondered if Iolaus wanted his backrub now, or later, after the festival.

Herc sighed again, happily. He should at least thank his friend.

'Thank you, Iolaus," the demigod purred.

"You're welcome," replied a familiar voice that definitely did not belong to his best friend.

The redhead, Collette, leapt straight up in the air, left foot flashing out and kicking Xena's battlestaff out of her hands. It flew upwards, describing a graceful arc, and Collete snatched it out of mid-air. Landing, she pirouetted, twirling the staff rapidly, but Xena was already somersaulting over her head, snatching the staff on her way over. Xena landed and swept Colette's legs out from under in one smooth movement. The redhead landed on her back with a thud, looking up to find the staff end against her chest, with a grinning Xena at the other end.

Grinning herself, Collette held her hands up, palms forward, and announced, "I cede the match to Xena!" Applause broke out from the crowd, impressed both by Collette's skill and her good grace. Her crowning as Flower Maiden was assured.

Xena reached down to give Collette and hand up, smacked her good-naturally on the shoulder, and tossed a clapping Gabrielle her staff. Gabrielle grinned and waved, bardic impartiality temporarily forgotten. Iolaus whistled and cheered.

It wasn't until Collette had been crowned with flowers that Iolaus and Xena discovered that she was also the town Lord's daughter. Iolaus had been delighted, as he loved the little jokes the Fates wove into his life. He was a little less delighted to find out that 'the boys' that Collette had mentioned were her seven strapping brothers, each and every one of which could be mistaken for Herc from a distance. Luckily for Greece, they, like Collette, had inherited their father's friendly personality. After meeting Collette's equally strapping and obviously devoted boyfriend, Iolaus congratulated himself on his decision not to pursue more than a strictly platonic friendship with the redheaded beauty. Of course, that left the other eleven contestants.

"So, how many are coming to your room tonight?" Xena inquired casually as they worked their way through the after-contest crowd around the stage, looking for Gabrielle.

Iolaus shot her an amused yet reproachful glance. "How many? Really, Xena, what kinda guy do you think I am?"

Xena grinned back. "All right, then, which one?"

"None," he replied primly.

"Oh, come on, Iolaus, I'm not Hercules."

"No, really, none."

"Why not? Afraid Hercules will throw you and her out instead of making himself scarce?"

"No room at the inn."

"Come again?"

"It was booked solid weeks ago and you know Herc. He never wants to trade in on his divine birthright. So, we're camping out tonight. Thank the Gods the weather's good. I was kinda hoping the town Lord would offer us lodging, but after meeting Collette..."

"And her seven brothers and boyfriend."

"And her seven brothers and boyfriend," Iolaus repeated amicably, "I think I'd better keep my distance from that particular temptation."

"Can't help you there, sorry," Xena explained. "Me and Gabrielle are camping out ourselves."

"Good, you two can snuggle up to Herc then. Poor guy was shivering last night."

"You think so, huh?, Xena asked, raising an eyebrow at the hunter's casual suggestion.

Iolaus caught the look. "Oh, don't worry. Even if Herc says cuddle, he means snuggle. Herc hates the cold, can't stand it. That's why he likes snuggling."

The other eyebrow went up. "There's a difference between 'snuggle' and 'cuddle'?"

"Oh yeah!" Iolaus exclaimed with enough enthusiasm that Xena caught the difference immediately.

"And you and Hercules 'snuggle', but you don't 'cuddle'?'

"Now you've got it!"

Xena rolled her eyes. Every once in a while, she ran into a truly confusing example of Herciolaus Speak. 'I've got to remember, these two have known each other forever,' she thought wryly. The strange thing was that Gabrielle always seemed to understand them. Aloud, she asked, "And just where are you going to be while Gabrielle and I are keeping your partner from freezing?"

"Hey, I said none of the girls were coming to MY room. I never said I wasn't going to theirs!"

"ARES?!" Hercules gasped, twisting violently away from his brother's hands. Demi-god muscles combined with near-panic and shock to launch him completely off the altar. Ares plucked him from mid-air. Dropping him gently back onto the cushion, Ares braced his hands against Herc's shoulders.

"Whoa, little brother, whoa! You keep this up and you're gonna hurt yourself!" Ares spoke gently, but just couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice.

Gods, the look on Hercules' face had been priceless!

Hercules stopped struggling, trying to gather his scattered thoughts while hyperventilating.

"What are you doing here? This is 'Dite's Temple, not yours!" he demanded, while shrugging his shoulders, trying to dislodge Ares hands. He only succeeded in having them slide down to his biceps.

"Hey, don't look at me, little brother. This was all 'Dite's idea!" the War God protested with a smile.

"Huh?" Hercules swallowed, shifting again. "Let go. What was?"

"This," Ares tilted his head, plastered a big, sexy smile on his face, and proceeded to do an excellent impression of their sister, "Like, you go instead of me and while Sweetcheeks is busy ogling all the pretty girls you can make nicey-nice with our baby bro!"

Hercules couldn't help his nervous giggle. "Nicey-nice?" he inquired.

"Hey, this had better count!" Ares grumbled, "This is about as nice as I can get!"

"A backrub?!" Hercules protested incredulously.

"Yeah, well that was 'Dite's idea, too." Which was at least half-true, since the information had came from one of her scrolls.

"And you just happen to give backrubs? Come on Ares, what's up?" Hercules asked suspiciously.

"Just being nice, bro. As for the backrub, don't you think soldiers get sore muscles? I do this all the time for my favorite warlords. Gets 'em all warmed up and primed for a little mayhem. Can't have some general cancel an attack 'cause his shoulders hurt from swinging a sword the day before! Works for athletes, too. Speaking of which, you do like to wrestle, don't you?" Ares smiled hopefully.

'What the hell is he talking about?' Hercules wondered dazedly. He just stared at the God of War.

Ares frowned. "Not warmed up, yet?" He brightened. "Hey, you want a full massage? I can do that! I give killer massages!"

"Hell, no! I don't want a massage!" Hercules nearly bellowed in his face.

"Oh, good," Ares purred, startling Herc by straddling his thighs. "That means we can wrestle instead!"

Xena led Gabrielle and Iolaus back to the alehouse, where she received a rousing and appreciative greeting from the dozen or so locals scattered about. There was a sprinkling of tourist festival goers, mostly eating at the tables along the front wall, but on the whole the place was much less crowded that the rest of the village of South Fork.

The three travelers claimed the large table in the back left corner. Gabrielle was busily scribbling away on her scroll, taking occasional draughts from the tankard in front of her without either looking up or putting down her quill. Xena was looking fondly at Gabby while steadily working her way through the third of the six tankards lined up in front of her untouched stew. Iolaus was touching his stew, taking cautious nibbles between large swigs of ale. It was the chicken stew, a local specialty that Hercules had been looking forward to sampling. For the life of him, Iolaus couldn't see the attraction. Chicken had so little flavor compared to rabbit. He hoped the stuff wouldn't give him indigestion. He knew from past experience how hard it was to maintain a romantic mood with a roiling tummy.

His attention was attracted by the entrance of a statuesque brunette, a woman in her prime with dancing green eyes and a mass of dark curls that tumbled to her waist. She was accompanied by a tall, slender man with large, dark eyes and his own dark curls.

"Well, Deanna, do you think it worked?" inquired one of the locals, a slightly older woman with silver in her hair and mischief in her eyes.

Deanna shook her head no; curls waving from side to side like the ebb and flow of the ocean waves.

"We haven't even tried yet," she explained to her friend.

"We couldn't," Deanna's companion added, looking a little embarrassed.

"Joeff, don't be silly! You have to at least try in order for Aphrodite's blessing to work. There's no reason to let a little case of nerves..."

"Uh, that wasn't it," Joeff protested, blushing.

"Trust me, we were both ready to give the attempt our full attention. But it was occupied." Deanna looked more amused than embarrassed.

The other woman grinned. "Well, it is the anniversary, so I guess everybody else has the same idea. You'll just have to go back later." Turning, she lifted her tankard and said, "Here's hoping they make a beautiful baby!"

"That'll be some trick," Joeff announced, causing his lovely wife to burst into giggles while he grabbed his own tankard from the barkeep.

"The Goddess' blessing works for any couple, Greek or not. Why should the people in the temple be any different?" the older woman asked.

Deanna caught her breath and wiped her damp eyes with the back of her hand. Still giggling slightly, she tried to explain, "Well, you see, they were a couple of guys!"

"Guys! What were two men doing in ...? Never mind."

"Actually, I think they were just a couple of travelers who blundered in by accident and don't know the legend. They weren't doing what you would expect," Deanna protested.

Joeff surfaced from his tankard long enough to add, "Yet." Deanna elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow," he protested mildly.

"Well, what were they doing?" the woman at the bar asked.

"Nothing all that weird, really. The big dark-haired guy was just giving the other one a backrub. I thought they might be soldiers on leave or something, but Joeff says he's met one of them. Joeff, honey, who was that other guy with the long hair?"

"Hercules," Joeff answered, picking up his second tankard and reading the menu board. Iolaus had been doing his best to catch every word without seeming to eavesdrop. He had been quite enjoying the conversation until Herc's name came up.

"Hercules the hero? He was supposed to judge the Flower Maiden Contest, but got held up somewhere so they got that other hero, Iolaus of Thebes, to do it instead. Iolaus got Xena the Warrior to help. Best damn contest we've had in years!"

Normally, Iolaus would have basked in the praise, but he was too distracted to enjoy it.

This guy Joeff was either crazy or badly mistaken. There was no way Herc was going to let some total stranger give him a backrub, even in 'Dite's temple. Unless it was one of 'Dite's attendants? But no, Herc himself had admitted 'Dite had offered and Herc had turned her down flat. Sometimes Herc was too shy for his own good. Iolaus certainly wouldn't have minded a backrub from some lovely female attendant, but when he'd suggested that to Herc the poor guy had blushed like crazy. No, this just didn't make sense, even if Iolaus had just been wondering when Herc was going to show. It was usually around this time that Herc surfaced from wherever he hid during festivals.

Mistaken identity, Iolaus decided, but got up and strolled casually over anyway.

"Excuse me, I couldn't help overhearing, but are you sure..." the hunter's voice trailed off as Joeff turned towards him and Iolaus got a good look at him for the first time. He knew this man, though it had been a good fifteen years since Iolaus had last seen him.

"Oh, hi, Iolaus," Joeff offered with a pathetic attempt at a smile. "Didn't see you there. Nice weather we're having, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Iolaus agreed absently. He and Herc had rescued Joeff and his family years ago. They had been refugees from a neighboring kingdom's war. Deanna was new; Iolaus would certainly have recognized her immediately. The Joeff they had known was a shy, plump, unmarried man supporting his aged parents and two unmarried sisters. Herc had mentioned several months back that he had run into Joeff, who had lost a little weight and was now married, but Iolaus hadn't made the connection of the name with the face until this moment. Even Iolaus couldn't remember every person he and Herc had helped over the years.

But Joeff certainly remembered Herc, had seen and spoken and even shared a meal with him only a few months back, which meant...which meant...Iolaus' brain tried it's best to shut down and refuse to process further information.

"Iolaus? You ok?" Joeff sounded worried. Iolaus blinked. What had he been thinking about? Oh, yeah, Herc was in 'Dite's temple with...who? Somewhere in the back of Iolaus' mind something clicked and the Hercules Early Warning Defense System started going off. 'Big man with dark hair'...they knew a big man with dark hair, but there was no logical reason on the Gods' green earth for that individual to even be in 'Dite's temple, much less giving Herc a backrub. But then, the Gods could be crazy.

"This other guy, did either of you notice anything unusual about him?" Iolaus ventured. Joeff shot a helpless look at Deanna, who took up the conversation.

"He was tall, short dark hair, dark little beard, funny earring, like a little knife," she replied.

'Funny earring, like a little knife'. Iolaus' jaw went slack, then he clamped it shut and snarled, "ARES?!"

The hunter turned back to his table to find both Xena and Gabrielle already on their feet and heading in his direction.

Iolaus jerked his head in the direction of the temple and called, "Meet you there!" before bolting out the door.

Hercules' heart was racing. Ares could feel it as he grappled his younger brother from behind, grabbing his right ankle and bending his leg towards his ears, trying to pin him to the altar cushion. . Herc grunted.

'Damn! That hurts! He's pulling my leg right out of its socket!' Hercules thought frantically. They had been at this a while, and Herc was getting tired, while Ares was still raring to go. Herc still didn't have any idea what was going through Ares' twisted little mind, but he knew he wanted out of that damned temple, now!

Hercules elbowed Ares in the face, breaking his hold, and lurched to one side, managing to roll over the top of the War God. He spun in Ares' arms, grabbed his head, and slammed it down with all his strength.

Which totally failed to have the desired effect, given the combination of the thick cushion and Ares' thicker skull.

Ares looked up, dark eyes dancing, and laughed with delight. Gods, he truly enjoyed a good wrestling match! The only other gods who would wrestle him were Artemis, who was constitutionally unable to pass up any athletic challenge, and 'Dite and Heph. Artie and Heph always won, being stronger, and 'Dite always gave up too soon. Hercules was a closer match to his strength and a damned good wrestler, too. Ares was having the time of his life.

Hooking a leg around Herc's thigh to roll him back on his back, Ares abruptly realized he was still wearing his own leather pants. Ooops, unfair advantage! The pants promptly vanished, leaving Ares in his breechcloth.

Hercules didn't notice, being too busy thrashing violently, trying to avoid being rolled. He managed, instead, to roll them both right off the edge of the altar. They landed, Ares-side-down, with a solid, temple-rattling thump, knocking over the table of oils on their way down. Herc snatched up the largest bottle and smashed it in Ares' face as he made a break for the door.

He made it about three steps before Ares' grabbed him and slammed him back onto the altar, leaping up after him. Shaking pottery shards and oil from his hair as he grappled with Hercules once more, Ares grinned and asked, "Having fun yet?"

Horseflesh beat hunter to the temple. Leaving Argo happily stripping a flowering bush, Xena and Gabrielle shoved open the temple door and looked inside.

Where they witnessed a grinning Ares grappling with Hercules while asking, "Having fun yet?" Xena promptly grabbed Gabby and yanked her back, pulling the door closed.

"Xena, why did you do that? Hercules needs our help!" Gabrielle reached for the door, only to have Xena slap her hand away.

"Look, Gabrielle, I know Ares, ok? That's not Ares in Attack Mode in there, that's Ares in Play Mode. He's PLAYING!"

Gabrielle stared at Xena. "Playing?!" she exclaimed, not believing her ears. Just how many ales had Xena drunk?

"Yeah, wrestling, from the looks of it. Ares always did love a good wrestling match," Xena explained, a nostalgic look in her eyes.

"But halt the temple's wrecked! There's broken tables all over!" Gabby protested.

Xena shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first piece of furniture Ares has broken during one of his matches; probably won't be the last. Gotta give him points for enthusiasm."

Gabrielle frowned, one hand on her hip, the other holding her staff. "Xena, I don't think Iolaus is going to believe that." Catching a movement from the corner of her eye, the bard turned. "And here he comes now."

Hercules had twisted, getting his hands around Ares' neck, but the demigod couldn't get a good grip thanks to the oil.

"I am NOT having fun!" Herc hissed through clenched teeth before head butting Ares. Ares grunted. Herc arched his back, trying to get enough space to pull his right leg up between them to kick Ares off. Ares responded by slamming his hands palm down on either side of Herc's head to lever himself up on his knees.

'Desperate times call for desperate measures,' Herc reasoned as he viciously kneed his half-brother. Ares jerked away with a grunt of pain and a curse. Losing his balance, he grabbed Herc's arms as he went over the edge of the altar, dragging Herc with him. This time they landed Herc-side down amidst the broken bottles.

"You know, little brother, if we end up down here one more time, we're staying here," Ares promised. After that knee to the groin, he was starting to lose interest in not scuffing up Daddy's Favorite. He'd been playing nice and keeping Herc more or less on the cushion to minimize possible damage, but if Hercules was going to pull stunts like that, then he might damn well end up with a few bruises. Ares sprang to his feet, catching Herc under the arms and hauling him up onto the altar's edge.

Iolaus cleared a fallen tree a few yards from the edge of the clearing just in time to see Xena and Gabrielle burst into the temple and back right back out.

What the...?

He bounded across the clearing, the sounds of the women's conversation carrying towards him in fits. They were arguing; Xena saying something about Ares being in Attack Mode and breaking furniture.

So why weren't they IN there, already?!

Iolaus decided to ask questions later. The important thing was to get Herc out of that temple and away from Ares before the God of War forgot Zeus' rule and did something they would all regret. He wasn't counting on Xena body-blocking him at the temple door.

"Uufff...Xena, get out of the way!" Iolaus hissed as he tried to push past her. Planting both hands on his shoulders, Xena braced her legs, effectively stopping Iolaus in his tracks.

"I don't think you should go in there, Iolaus," she said.

The hunter felt his heart plummet. "Oh Gods," he breathed, as hot tears of guilt and grief welled up, "We can't be too late."

"I don't know about too late, but you still shouldn't go in there," Xena replied with a strange smile.

As Iolaus stared at her, wondering why the hell she was smiling, Gabrielle realized there might be a communication problem.

"Hercules isn't dead!" the petite bard blurted out.

Iolaus did a rapid reassessment of the situation, but it still didn't make any sense. Why were they all out HERE while Herc and Ares were in THERE. He told them so.

"Have you lost your minds?! Herc need us in there!"

"Um, maybe not," Gabrielle offered timidly, "Hercules and Ares are playing."

"Playing?!" Iolaus' stare transferred to Gabby. Ok, clearly Xena had hit her in the head with that damned chakram one time too many.

"Wrestling," Xena added sagely. And Gabrielle had gotten Xena with her staff a few times, too.

'Reason with them, quickly, and if that doesn't work, just knock 'em out.' "Why shouldn't we go in if they're just playing?" he asked, as reasonably as possible through gritted teeth.

"Because the whole temple's liable to come down any minute, Iolaus, and Hercules will have my head if it comes down on yours," Xena informed him. "Last time Ares wrestled Hephaestus in one of his temples, they reduced it to ruins."

That did it. "Get. Out. Of. My. Way. Xena. Now!" Iolaus growled. He was getting Herc out of that temple if he had to go right through the warrior princess.

Xena's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Iolaus," she began, when from inside the temple came a deep grunt, a muffled curse, and a thump that vibrated the steps beneath them.

"Damnit, Ares, GET OFF ME!" bellowed an unmistakably unhappy Hercules.

Iolaus shoved Xena aside and tore into the temple only to skid to a halt, Xena and Gabby right behind him. Ares had Hercules up against the altar, his arms wrapped around Herc's neck in a headlock from behind. Herc was rather vainly trying to elbow Ares in the ribs while clawing at his arms with the other hand. The demi-god's face was dark red with a lovely blue tinge along the edges, which went well with the choking sounds he was now making.

Lightening-fast, Iolaus snatched Xena's sword from her hand, screamed a wordless, fury-filled war cry and dashed across the temple, somersaulting to land on Ares' shoulders.

The God of War staggered from the impact, and Hercules twisted free, gasping.

The next thing Ares knew, his arms were pinned by a pair of strong thighs and an extremely agitated voice was snarling, "GET. YOUR HANDS. OFF. HIM. NOW!" Each word was accented by a sharp blow to his skull.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Who's doing that! Ow! Stop it, damnit!" Twisting away from the blows, Ares looked up to meet a pair of bright blue eyes looking down, eyes flashing with fury. More blows rained down on his head.

"Damnit, Iolaus, stop that! Ow! I'm serious, pipsqueak! OW! It's not what you think!"

"Yeah, right," Iolaus snarled, slamming Ares one right between the eyes with the hilt of Xena's sword.

"THAT DOES IT!" Ares roared, breaking Iolaus' leglock and reaching up to grab the hunter by the throat. He twisted and flung Iolaus into the temple wall. Luckily, the two huge flower arrangements Iolaus plowed through helped to cushion the impact. Even luckier, Ares had chosen the wall with the decorative quilted hanging.

Ares turned in time to see Herc's fist just before it connected with his jaw.

"Ouch!' Hercules muttered, shaking his hand as he pushed past the staggering Ares to race to Iolaus' side. The blonde hunter was sprawled at the base of the wall, half-upright, eyes crossing as he tried to follow the pretty little singing, dancing stars that were circling his head.

Hercules dropped to his knees and pulled his partner to him, tenderly cradling Iolaus in his arms as he gently stroked the blonde curls and gingerly explored the scalp beneath, trying to determine the extent of the damage.

"Oh, please, I didn't throw the little annoyance hard enough to really hurt him," Ares protested, gingerly working his jaw back and forth.

Iolaus giggled dopily and started singing along with the dancing stars.

"Ok, maybe I concussed him a little," Ares admitted.

"Iolaus, can you understand me? You saved me!" Herc gushed.

Ares groaned and rolled his eyes skyward. "Here we go AGAIN. Might as well take a load off, ladies. They're going to be at this a while."

Iolaus burbled, "Hiya, Herc!" and giggled again.

Xena crossed the floor, retrieved her sword from where it had fallen, and turned to Ares.

"Just what was going on here?" she demanded.

"Friendly wrestling match between brothers," Ares said, sulking. Cutting his eyes at the Herc/Iolaus tableau, he added pointedly, "And that's all!"

"Like hell," Hercules growled.

"Oh, c'mon, little brother, it wasn't like I was trying to kill you or anything!" Ares protested in a hurt tone.

"Not like the last dozen or so times," Herc grumbled, gazing into Iolaus' glazed eyes.

"Don't exaggerate. I've only really tried to kill you a couple of times," Ares complained. "Ok, maybe three or four, but that's it."

"Iolaus, can you hear me?" Hercules asked gently, stroking the blonde curls.

Iolaus giggled again and blinked up at the demigod. Reaching up, he traced a looping pattern on Herc's oily chest.

"You look cute all glisteny, Herc," he observed dreamily.

"Ooookay," Herc responded doubtfully.

Iolaus rested his cheek against Herc's chest and sniffed.

"Mmmmm," he purred, " You smell good, too!"

Hercules blinked down at his friend, non-plussed. Then he made a small, startled, sound.

"Taste good, too," Iolaus said with a happy sigh, "Like oranges."

"Um, I think Iolaus needs some fresh air," Hercules announced, blushing. Gathering the hunter up in his arms, he stood and headed for the door.

Gabriele blocked him, blushing herself.

"Ah, Hercules, I don't think you want to go outside just yet," she ventured, trying very hard to not meet Herc's eyes and yet not look down either.

Hercules squirmed, shifting Iolaus slightly, and frowned. "Why not?" he asked.

"Because, Studly Do-Right, you've forgotten something," Ares offered with a grin. He gestured downwards.

Herc shifted Iolaus again to look down at himself, and the blush deepened. "Oh, right," he muttered distractedly. "Iolaus, you shouldn't be doing that."

"I like oranges," the hunter protested mildly.

Hercules rolled his eyes and squirmed again.

"Ares, please?" he asked, rather plaintively.

Still grinning, Ares made a small gesture.

"Oh, damn, your clothes are back!" Iolaus complained in a clear voice.

"Huh?" Herc exclaimed.

"Here I was hoping we could wrestle," Iolaus said with a roguish grin and a mischievous light in his eyes.

Herc's own eyes narrowed. "You were faking it?" he accused.

"Just 'till I could get you out of this temple, Big Guy," the blonde replied, giggling.

Hercules dropped him.

"Ouch!" Iolaus protested.

"Unbelievable!" Hercules glared down at his best friend, shaking his head in disbelief. "Just unbelievable!"

"And you...you..." Hercules shifted his glare in Ares' direction, sputtering as his mind searched for just the right insult. He found it. "Pervert!"

Ares grinned. "Pervert, huh? I like it. Has a nice ring." He elbowed Xena, who was leaning against the altar next to him. "Whadya think, Xena? Am I a pervert?"

"Beyond a doubt," she replied with a smile.

"Thank you," he replied seriously.

"You," Hercules snapped at the wildly giggling figure at his feet, "I will see outside when you've gotten a hold of yourself. You," he glared at Ares, "I don't want to see for at least a month." Stepping over the hysterical Iolaus, he stormed out, slamming the temple door with enough force to rock the few tables and flower arrangements still standing.

Iolaus immediately leapt to his feet, giggles fading. Stalking over to Ares, he planted his hands on his hips, thrust his face up into the War God's, and snarled, "Don't you ever lay a hand on him again!"

"Oh, puh-leeze! It was just a wrestling match! You two wrestle all the time and nobody goes around calling you perverts! Who has the dirty mind around here?" Ares protested sourly.

"Just remember, hands off Hercules! Got it, 'Studmuffin'?"

"Or what, 'Curly', you'll give me a headache?"

"Ares," Iolaus said with sudden sweetness, "Do you remember the time I got struck by lightening and could see the future?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So," Iolaus purred, "You keep your hands offa my Herc or we'll be continuing this discussion in about twenty years and I won't be happy!"

"Ladies," he continued, bowing to an amused Xena and a giggling Gabby, "It's been a pleasure going to the festival with you both. We'll have to do it again sometime. Now, if you will excuse me, I've got some major manipulation to pull off." Checking to make sure the bags containing Herc's bracelets were still attached to his belt, Iolaus started for the door.

"Excuse me, Iolaus," Xena questioned laconically, "But don't you mean you've got some major apologizing and groveling to do?

Iolaus flashed her a wicked grin. "That, too, but by the time I'm done with him, Herc will be apologizing to me. After all, I just saved him from Ares' wicked intentions!"

"Did not! There were no wicked intentions!" Ares protested, but it was too late; the temple door was already closing.

Ares glared upwards, arms crossed. "Got any other bright ideas, Sis?" he asked the temple ceiling. It didn't answer.

Noticing that Xena and Gabby were still there, he cocked his head and smiled invitingly.

"So, girls, would you like to see the rest of the festival in the company of a handsome god?" he asked.

"Hephaestus is coming?" Xena asked sweetly.

"Only if 'Dite's around," Ares replied innocently.

Gabrielle blushed and giggled.

"What's wrong with you, girl?" Ares asked, "I don't know if my sister's going to drag poor Heph out of his forge to attend this ditzy festival or not. Question is: are we on or not?" Gabby and Xena exchanged glances. Xena shrugged and said "Why not?"

Grinning, the God of War offered an arm to each of them. As the group started for the door, Gabby suddenly held up a hand.

"Um, Ares," she ventured, blushing again.

"Gods, does all this girl do is blush?" Ares asked Xena.

"Yeah. If you can't keep a civil tongue in your head she can rip it out," Xena replied.

"Guys! Don't fight! It's just...." Gabby made frantic little downward movements. Ares looked down. He still wore only a breechcloth.

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that," a relieved Gabby sighed.

"Gonna put some clothes on, Studly?" Xena inquired with a smirk.

"Nah. You know how many Flower Maiden wannabes had a date with Cute 'n Curly tonight? Thought I'd give 'em a consolation prize."

"Pervert," Xena muttered fondly as they went out the door.

END