GABRIELLE WORKED her way to the end of the hall, where it lay open to the fabled gardens. The crowd milled about the open halls and the torchlit edges of the garden, but the great majority of the vast expanse of rock and tree and ancient silent stone was untouched by the noise and the crowd. Few wandered far outside the safety of the light, and the walkways into the interior were empty and beckoning. An escape route.

Moving on instinct again, Gabrielle made her way into the gardens. Once out of the torchlight she paused to adjust her eyes to the dimness, but with the moon just past full found she could see fine after a few moments. Clearly enough, in any case. She moved down the path, senses alert, watching, listening. A few steps away from the palace, and it was as if she was far off in some wood somewhere, totally alone--and the feeling was comforting rather than otherwise. How long had it been now? Months, at least. Months without being outside, no walls, no politics, no people, just earth and sky, Xena and Eve and-- Where was that pilgrim path? Her bare feet found its dirt surface before her eyes did, and she followed it into the wavering shadows. The ancient god sat as he had for millennia untold, and if he thought anything of it when she pushed her way past him he kept it to himself.

She'd expected it to be darker back here, the way Joxer had described it, but the treeless space was flooded with moonlight, setting it off against the darkness of the trees and the solidity of the rock. Gabrielle sucked in a breath. It was beautiful, as beautiful as Joxer had described, even more so. Why hadn't she listened, why hadn't she come out here and allowed him to show her--It took her eyes a moment to adjust enough to the shadows to see him sitting on one of the flat, fallen rocks in the god's shadow. "Joxer," she said softly.

He jumped at the sound. She realized his eyes had been closed, and maybe he'd been trying to meditate--or hide. "Hey," she said gently. "There you are."

He scrambled to his feet. "Gabrielle," he said, shifting uneasily, like a nervous stag, as she approached him. "You, uh...you look wonderful tonight."

"I...thank you. So do you. The new, uh..."

"Oh...this thing." He looked down at the shirt and plucked it nervously. "I feel kind of like a target in it."

"Not surprising."

"No. I'm not sure why Nebula would... I mean, y'know, it's the royal color and stuff, I shouldn't be wearing it."

"No, you shouldn't." Her tone was sharp enough to make him flinch, and she caught herself. "I, I mean...It's not a good color on you, it makes you look sallow. And you have such nice skin, you shouldn't...Oh, Joxer, come here." She fussed with the shirt collar, which had fallen far back on his neck, pulling the opening down his throat where it belonged and straightening the edges. "There. There, that's better, I..." She gave it a final pat and stepped back. "Well."

"Well."

"Yeah." The leaves of the ancient trees fluttered far above their heads. "So," Gabrielle said. "Why are you out here instead of in there with you admiring audience?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I... I just need some time for it all to set in, I guess. I mean...all those people."

"Isn't it what you always wanted?"

"Yeah," he said frankly, "but it's scary."

Gabrielle laughed before she could catch herself. "Sorry."

"It is kinda silly, isn't it?"

"No. No, it's not. They're all strangers. Heck, there aren't even any Greeks out there. It's not the same way it might be at home."

"Yeah. Home." Joxer's face was unreadable. "Gabrielle, is...do you think Xena's proud of me?"

"Of course she's proud of us. She's just Xena. She doesn't show it."

"She's always proud of you. I mean me."

"Why wouldn't she be?"

"I know I can't ever make up for, for messing up. With the sword and all..."

"Joxer," Gabrielle started to say, but he kept on. "I know I shouldn't expect she should want to accept me again, but I just can't...It's like I know it in my head, but not in here." He gestured at his chest, almost a clawing motion. "I miss it. I miss everything the way it used to be, and it's like I just can't get my footing back. It's like the world changes, y'know, every time I take a step..."

"Joxer," Gabrielle said softly. She took a step toward him and froze. Should she go get Xena? Should she leave him be? Should she let him talk? No emotion, she told herself, no reacting, stand back and see what's going on, a warrior doesn't...

"...it changes and I don't know where I am or who I am any more, it's like on that ship they took everything away from me, not just my sword but my, my self, and there's all those people out there happy because a man's gonna die, and I don't know who they're here to see, because me," he said, "because me, I'm not here any more, I..."

The words burned like coals flung from a volcano. Gabrielle tried her damndest to stop and think, what would help him, what should she say, what was the best way to

and then instinct took over, and she caught his flailing hands in hers and held him steady. "Joxer," she said softly. "Joxer, hush."

"Gabrielle, I..."

"I know how you feel." She did. The old dark waters surged up around her, but instead of pulling her down they were bearing her up. "I've been there. I understand. It gets better, Joxer." She entwined her fingers with his, feeling him twitch like a nervous horse as she gently tightened her grip. "All you have to do is hold on to the people who love you, and it gets better."

"Yeah." He wasn't looking at her, but at something far off and terrible. "Does it?"

For answer she stepped forward, that same swell of instinct moving her without conscious thought once more, and took him into her arms. "It does," she said. She fit neatly against him, her head tucked into his neck, her arms just long enough to fit around his chest. "We're here for you, Joxer. Don't worry."

He clung to her like a drowning man. "Xena doesn't--" he mumbled into her hair.

"Xena loves you. Eve loves you. I love you, don't ever think I don't." She tightened her grip, feeling him warm and alive beneath her, and thought of how close she'd come to losing that. "I told you. You can come to me. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I'm here." She heard the echoes of the words in her ears and wondered if she should have phrased it exactly that way, if maybe that was a mistake...

No, she knew with the same instinctive certainty that had carried her to him rather than allowing her to back off and shove it away. No, those were the right words. And she meant them.

He curled over her, his chin nestled in her hair, and there were a few long moments before he spoke. "Promise?"

"Promise? It's a threat."

He pulled back a little bit, and she did as well, looking up into his eyes, seeing him studying her with the same intensity. Something twitched at the corner of his mouth--a smile, a real live Joxer-smile. She hadn't seen one of those in weeks, and she reached up and patted it lightly. "There, see?" she said. The old Joxer, at least for the time being. The old Joxer, and if he could find himself for a little while he'd sooner or later be able to find himself for good. So much relief and affection washed over her it made her weak in the knees, and she fell against him with a small, relieved laugh. "That's my boy." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

It was quick, and she backed off and looked into his face, gauging his reaction. She couldn't read him. Had that joke gone too far?

Was it a joke at all?

"Okay," Joxer said. "Okay, you win." He held his hands up in surrender and took a step back, allowing her to back off without losing face. "I give up. I'm going back inside and find Nebula and..."

Find Nebula, like hell, Gabrielle thought and there was that same surge

and she was kissing him again. Seriously kissing. Seriously, exploringly, deeply, tongue-and-everythingly kissing him, and she didn't want to stop. He was the first one to break, taken by surprise, gasping for air. "Gabrielle..."

"If I hear one more word about Nebula I'll thump you, you got that? You stay here, with your..." Another kiss, longer and deeper than the first. "...friends."

All the voices that said stand back and think, that said be careful, that said don't allow emotions to get in the way were silenced. Oh, they still chattered in the back of her head somewhere, but all that advice from all those people had been for someone else, not for her. She had reached him where they couldn't. And, she slowly realized as she explored his mouth, his chin, his throat--he'd reached her in the same way.

She should be frightened. She was exuberant.

She pressed herself against him and took his face in her hands, memorizing the mismatched angles with her fingertips. He felt wonderful under her hands. The feel of him was wonderful, the feel and the smell and the taste. She kissed him repeatedly and he returned them, small short kisses between feeble attempts at talk. "Gabrielle," he kept saying, and stopping, and starting over again. "Gabrielle, I..."

"It's okay," she whispered against his cheek. "It's just me. It's safe." She didn't know whether she was talking to him or to herself, but it was true.

At that he stopped, still holding her so close she could feel the shudders of indecision running through him. Then he released her and stepped back, his head turned aside. "I'm sorry," he said to the ground, "I don't know what got into me, I..."

"Joxer," she said softly. "Joxer, look at me." When he did, she pulled the knot that held her overwrap loose and let it fall to the ground around her feet to reveal what she wore underneath, the small brown leather bra and thong she had earned in the Northern village all those months ago. "I told you I was saving this for a special occasion," she said, and had to stop and take a breath before continuing. "I think this counts."

Joxer stared for a long moment. No, he wasn't staring, he was...worshiping. Then in one motion he stripped off the saffron shirt of the Lion and tossed it aside. "It's the most special occasion of my life," he said softly and held out his hand to her. "The most special one that could ever be."

She took his hand, like a queen. "You realize, of course, this changes nothing. I mean about, you know..."

"I know." His smile was genuine. "Just friends."

"The very best," she said softly and allowed him to pull her into a good old-fashioned embrace. Tongue slid against tongue, skin against skin, and she pressed herself against his chest and belly to feel the smoothness against her own, ran her hands over his sides and back. Her fingertips slid over the raised edges of still-healing scars and a sob rose in her throat unbidden. Joxer broke off the kiss and whispered in her ear, worried. "Gabrielle? Are you all right?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine." She ran her hands gently over the spot again and blinked away sudden tears. "I... You're so beautiful, Joxer, did I ever tell you that?"

"It's a lie," he murmured. "It's a lie, you're the one who's..." He kissed his way down her neck, along the line of her collarbone, down along the exposed top of her breast.

"It is not," Gabrielle said, annoyed, "don't talk back when people give you a complimenoh." He nuzzled down farther, poking under the edge of the leather, not quite to the nipple but close enough to "Oh," Gabrielle said again intelligently, and then he undid the ties of the bra and it slipped away under his inquires, and she could not say anything at all for a few moments. Her knees weren't working. She fell against him, barely able to stand, and felt his erection pressing into her. No fair, she thought, shoving her hips forward, he gets to look and I don't? What's up with that? She drew her hands back around front, flattened them against his belly and slid them into the top of his pants. He gasped, his voice muffled against her breast; then as she pressed further he lifted his head and gasped again.

"Easy," she murmured. He was trembling again, but she doubted it was indecision this time. She undid the ties of his pants and eased them down his hips. He took over, shook one leg free and then the other, never removing his hands from her as though she might vanish if he were to try. No way, Gabrielle thought, and wrapped herself around him. His thing was warm and solid against her belly, and she herself was nothing but molten fire down there. "Now," she said. It was instinct again, that surge coming up from somewhere deep within herself and carrying her along. Now, now before those recriminating voices stopped her, now before she lost him, now before she lost herself. "Now," she repeated, a stubborn demand.

Wordlessly he sank to the ground and she followed, or lead, lying back on the cool mossy ground that did nothing to ease the heat in her. She heard herself panting softly, no longer able to talk, more aroused than she'd ever been in her life or could ever imagine to be. This was what people talked about when they said what it was like, this was-- Joxer lay against her, kissing her neck, her collarbone, between her breasts, her breasts themselves. He took her nipple into his mouth and flicked his tongue against it, and she cried out and her hips arched up off the ground. She clung to his head, holding it to her breast, as he felt down along her hip and pulled the thong free, the soaked leather slipping easily from between her legs. Her hips bucked again, following its passage, and then his hand slid down to replace it and she was lost. She moaned wildly, thrusting herself steadily against his fingers, sliding slick slippery and the feeling so strong, so many feelings, not just the wanting but the needing, the something dangerous and she choked back the cry in her throat, didn't allow it to escape. Joxer, it sang in her chest, Joxer, I lo-- and she came, hard, fast, her entire body shaking as if all the tensions of a lifetime were springing free at once. She gasped, disoriented, her own heartbeat pounding in her ears and almost covering up the sound of Joxer's voice, hoarse and rough and deep like she'd never heard it. He was moving over her, parting her knees with his own, saying, "Gabrielle. Gabrielle, I'm sorry, I have to..."

"Yes," she managed to gasp out, not an acquiescence, not a submission, but a request. "Yes, now," and she pulled one leg up, knee falling to the side, opening herself to him and then he was in her. He humped her hard, desperately, with what she recognized as that same desperate need she'd found in herself. She found herself matching his thrusts, trying to draw him into her as deeply as possible, thought maybe she came again but wasn't sure, and then he cried out her name like a dying man, gathered her to him and came for what seemed like hours, over and over, before he finally released her and leaned on his hands over her, spent, gasping, head hung low. Sweat beaded on his face and hair and dripped onto her chest, mingling with her own. "Gabrielle," he said again, as if her name was the holiest of mantrams, "Gabrielle, I..."

"Oh, Joxer." She reached up and took his face in her hands. He fell to the side and pulled her with him, so that they faced each other. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what? Don't be."

"I'm sorry. I wanted it to be so, if we ever, I mean, I never thought it would really..." He smoothed her damp hair away from her forehead. "And I thought, I wanted it to be so beautiful, not so messed up, not me so messed up I couldn't..."

"Joxer, you were wonderful. You are. Wonderful, and beautiful, and..." She caught whatever it was she was going to say before she could accidentally allow herself to know what it was, and replaced it with "...and one of the dearest people in the world to me." She returned the favor, pushing his hair back and watching it stubbornly fall forward again as it always did. "Don't worry."

Joxer allowed his glance to fall away for a moment in acknowledgment, then he looked at her with that expression on his face, that familiar mix of wonder and curiosity and openness that was just so...him it almost pained her to look at it. She brushed his face, hoping he could feel the same things in her touch she had felt in his. "I am so very, very happy to have you back with us," she said.

Oops. She saw the cloud pass over his face and heard as if it was spoken aloud: Xena. Well, she'd take care of Xena. And she'd have to take care of Nebula as well. Oh, yeah, she was gonna have fun taking care of Nebula.

Great. This was going to be even harder than the problem with the sword.

Joxer pushed himself up. "You're cold," he said and she was, the sweat on her skin leaving goose pimples behind as it dried. "Here--" He reached for the forgotten wrap and untangled it. It was like a toga, really little more than a length of cloth folded and tied, and he shook it out and wrapped it around her shoulders. She scooted up against him, wrapping the other end as best she could around him as well. There. One problem solved. But still. Xena, and Nebula--"What do you think they would do," she asked lightly, "if we went back inside like this?"

"Uh... Probably stare a lot."

"You're right. It wouldn't be a good idea." She leaned against him and sighed. "Though I suppose we have to go back inside sometime."

"No, we don't."

"We can't stay out here all night, of course."

"Why not?"

"We have to go back in and face and mmph." When the kiss ended, Gabrielle said," On the other hand, I can see your point." She shrugged the wrap off her shoulders.

"You'll get cold," Joxer said.

"Not for long. Not for long."

-----

Gabrielle crept back into the apartment shortly before dawn. Her back and hips were sore and her neck was stiff. She was going to have to pass on the exercising this morning, she thought ruefully. And maybe...

"Well, Eve," said Xena clearly through the curtain of her alcove, "I see Auntie Gabrielle is back."

Busted. Gabrielle gave up trying to sneak and plopped herself down on the couch. After a moment Xena entered, shaking her head and stifling a yawn. She'd been asleep, so at least she hadn't been waiting up. Good. Gabrielle already felt enough like a girl caught breaking curfew. Xena came over and sat down. "Well. Did we have fun at the party?"

"You could say that." Gabrielle leaned back, just managing to keep herself from wincing at the twinge in her back as she did so, and tried to look innocent.

"And exactly how much fun did we have?"

"Oh, you know. The usual."

Xena gave her The Look. "I can smell it on you," she said. She gave Gabrielle long enough to realize she wasn't going to be able to get away with anything and feel a little ashamed, then went on. "Was that a good idea, Gabrielle?"

"You're the one who told me to keep him away from Nebula."

"I mean for him. You know how he feels about you."

Now she really did feel ashamed. Xena saw it, and her voice became gentler. "I just want you to be sure you're doing the right thing."

"It had to be done sooner or later."

Xena sat back, a wry smile on her face. "You talk like it was inevitable."

"Maybe it was," Gabrielle said softly, picking a stray twig out of her hair and studying it for a moment, fascinated. "Maybe it was."