THE QUESTION HAD BEEN burning at Gabrielle's mind all day. It had burned when she and Suleiman had arrived in response to their summons, it burned all during the afternoon audience worse than the midday sun itself, it burned during Nebula's private meetings with Suleiman and the priests from the sea gods' temple and the household staff during the afternoon, it had burned during a quiet post-audience supper she had been invited to share with the Queen, and it was not until now, arriving back in her apartments with the late afternoon sun streaming in from the garden and Joxer gone to gather scrolls from the law library and Xena getting dressed after her nap to go stand guard over Nebula during the night, that she could finally have it answered. "What the hell were you thinking?" she squawked.

"About what?"

"You know very well about what. About having me become the personal guard of that, That Woman." Gabrielle wanted to throw something down in disgust, but dressed as she was in the minimal and bootless garb the Sumerian climate required she didn't have anything to spare. This did not help her mood. "Having to stand by her all day while she..." Her imagination threw up a couple of truly appalling pictures and then went blank, leaving her gaping.

"While she plots whatever plots she's plotting." Xena pulled on her boots; nobody told Xena what or what not to wear, climactic forces or no. "Two birds with one stone here. Not only do we protect Nebula from whoever else might be after her, we protect ourselves from Nebula. If she's up to anything, we'll have advance warning."

Gabrielle blinked. True, she had a lot of animosity towards Nebula, but it was on more of a personal kind of level. "You really think she's going to try something? I..." She knew how stupid it was to say it, but couldn't stop herself. "I thought we were friends. Well, I thought you and her were friends, anyway."

"We are," said Xena, but nevertheless buckled on her breastplate as usual. "But Nebula's Queen, don't forget, and she's trying to do something that's never been done before in this country. Hell, anywhere, as far as I know. She has both reason and need to do whatever she has to, if she wants to achieve her goal. And that wouldn't preclude sacrificing her cousin, her brother...or us. Don't forget, we didn't arrive here under our own power in the first place."

"What do you think..."

"I don't think anything specific. Yet. But I still don't like the situation. That's why I'm going to be watching her at night and you're going to be watching her during the day. Once Khalil is executed, we'll be able to find out where we stand. But until then, if anything goes wrong..." She let the sentence trail off ominously, probably for effect, but Gabrielle followed her thinking. If anything went wrong, it would be just as easy to blame the outlanders as it was to credit them in the first place. "So what do we do now?" Gabrielle asked in a properly chastened voice.

"What she wants. You and Joxer work on those scrolls, make sure there's no surprise loopholes anybody can spring on us at the last minute. Tell him to make sure he pays attention at Court and during the audience, and I want him to tell you or me everything he hears. Write it down if you have to. And for gods' sakes, stay alert. There's still too many people with something to gain if Nebula should be killed--and now that the taboo's been broken, it may make it easier for them to consider doing so." She strapped her sword to her back and took up her chakram. "I'll see you in the morning. If anything happens, I'll send word."

"Okay. Night, Xena."

"Night. Sleep well." The warrior woman shouldered her diaper bag and her baby, and left the room.

Great. Just great. Everything Xena said made perfect sense. It was smartest for Gabrielle to stick close to Nebula, and it was safest for everybody in the long run. It just was so damn awkward, though. Gabrielle hadn't really hit it off great with Nebula even that first time she'd met her, with the drinking and the assassins and the tattoo parlor and everything, and ever since Nebula's "invitation" brought them here the tension had just gotten worse. Nebula's laugh raked on Gabrielle's nerves, her coarseness made her blush, her undisguised condescending amusement at Gabrielle's height and hair and dress and literary ambitions infuriated her beyond measure. And then, after all that, then she had the fucking nerve to go and lay her hands on...

"Gabrielle!" The voice came from outside as if he'd been waiting for the cue. "Gabrielle, could you get the door, I..."

She walked over and opened the door. Joxer more or less staggered in under an overly large armload of scrolls that was threatening to slip out of his grasp at any minute. "I made it," he announced proudly. "I didn't think I..." and the next minute the scrolls were all over the floor. Joxer looked at them sadly. "Okay," he amended. "I almost made it."

"Good gods, what do Sumerians do? Crank out laws for fun?" Gabrielle helped him pick the scrolls up, and together they made a large ungainly stack of Sumerian law on the table. "How many are there?"

"Oh, it gets better. These are just the ones that deal with the protocol for a traitor's execution. The actual execution, mind you. The ones for the parts leading up to it--I'm going to need a wheelbarrow."

"Can you read Sumerian?"

"Not enough to do more than decipher a few of the titles. How about you?"

"Barely." Gabrielle groaned. "Well...this is going to be fun. That Woman," she said without thinking, and plopped down on the couch.

And there it was, out in the open. Oh, shit, Gabrielle thought. Joxer rearranged the scrolls from one pile into another and then back again, for no apparent reason. Finally he said hesitantly, "I, uh, went to see her this morning."

Gabrielle closed her eyes. Don't tell me. I don't want to know, she thought. For some reason she couldn't breathe well all of a sudden.

Joxer continued to pile scrolls, not looking around. "I gave her back the shirt. I, um... I can't. Gabrielle, I know you said just friends and everything, and I don't expect anything more than that, but still, I... I just can't. Not after...Well. Anyway. I broke it off with her, so she might be mad at me, so if she tells you to tell me to stay away...well, that's why."

The momentary spasm passed, and Gabrielle took a deep breath. The air was sweet. Broke it off? "I, uh... That's good. I mean, it's not good, I mean... I mean, Xena says..." Oh, good one, Queen of the Tactless. Bring up Xena. "Darn it," she said and allowed that by-now familiar surge to take over, wondering what it would have her say. "I won't pretend I'm sorry. I didn't like you being with her, I just... I don't trust her, Nebula. She's always up to something."

"It's politics. She just wants to have people she can pal around with like the old days. It's kind of sad, I think."

Gabrielle was going to say something sharp, but his words brought her up short. She remembered that night, the one she'd spent prickling at Nebula--and yes, they did have fun, didn't they? Nebula all laughing and kidding with Morrigan and Joxer, teasing Gabrielle mercilessly, even playing word games with Brigid. Not the kind of thing you could get to do much, when you were a Queen. "I never thought of it that way," she said. But it was true, and Joxer had seen it. Joxer was good at that, he often saw where Gabrielle was at even when her words and her actions belied it, and... and he'd done the same thing with Nebula, and the realization made her distinctly and furiously jealous. She growled more at herself than anything else, then got up from the couch.

"What?" said Joxer.

"Nothing."

"You're mad." There, he was doing it again. Looking right through her.

"I am not. Not at you, anyway." She sighed, exasperated, and wished again for something to throw.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "I didn't mean to..."

"Oh, for pity's sake, Joxer, stop apologizing. I said it wasn't you."

"Okay, okay," he said, "you don't need to snap my head off."

"I'm not," she snapped before realizing how much he was suddenly sounding like his old self again. He was coming back, just for moments at a time...but he was coming back. "Okay, I am," she said quickly, before it got out of hand, and found him staring at her. "Whatever," she explained. More staring. "Uh, um... would you like some water?"

Joxer shook his head slightly, and blinked. "Yeah. I get way punchy being out in that sun all afternoon."

"I told you, you need to make sure you drink a lot of water when you come inside." She walked to the sideboard and poured him a cup from the ewer the servants kept filled at all times.

"Yeah, but I get so punchy I forget to remember."

"Typical Joxer." She gave him the water. "Here."

He drank in several long gulps, and she made a note to nag him about drinking enough if she was going to be around him during the day. Joxer just didn't take sun well, with his skin and all, and... she was going to be around him all day, wasn't she? If he was going to be at Court in an official position. What was Nebula up to with that, anyway?

Joxer gathered himself and nodded his thanks. He put the cup down on the table by the pile of scrolls and gazed at them for a long moment. "So," he said. "We're going to do it."

"Wh--oh." Execute Khalil, she realized. "Yeah. Looks that way."

"Gabrielle, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"If someone tries to kill someone else, that makes them a murderer, right?" He fingered one of the scrolls but did not pick it up.

"An attempted murderer, anyway."

"So if someone doesn't kill somebody themselves, but gets someone else to do it for them, what does that make them?"

Gabrielle walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder before answering. "Joxer, you have nothing to do with Khalil's death."

"I caught him."

"He made his choice when he threw the dagger. He knew what the consequences were."

"Yes, but..."

"But you still feel responsible, because you're a good, caring person, and you think about consequences, and about how other people feel." She put her arms around him and leaned into his shoulder. "And people like Khalil don't. That's how they become murderers."

After a moment he lay his hand atop one of hers as it rested on his chest. "Gabrielle--thanks."

"I know it doesn't help. I wish it could."

"I wish I could stop being so weak."

Gabrielle sighed. "Joxer, why do you insist on being so contrary?"

"Hmn?"

"I mean, why do you always insist your very best qualities are your weakest ones?" She moved around front so she could face him. "You have mercy. Only the strongest people have mercy. You're strong, in your heart, where it counts. You do the right thing, even when it's hard. You're devoted. You're kind." She gave him an affectionate kiss. "You're sweet." Another kiss. "You're sexy." Whoops, better not say that one aloud. Or had she?

He was kissing her back, so she had. A deep, gentle, kiss, not demanding, not ordering, but offering. It shook her to her core, and she pulled back. "I'm sorry," Joxer said, "I know you don't want to..."

She shook her head. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. Don't apologize for being you, Joxer. Not ever. And especially...not now." She kissed him again, and she was gone. Okay, so she'd been gone on the first one. Technicalities.

He pulled her close and nestled his head against her neck, not doing anything else for the moment, just clinging to her. There was need there, but this was Joxer and not any other man, and there was no demand behind it, no insistence. She leaned into him for a long pleasant moment, enjoying the deep warm musky smell and the feel of his body against hers and his arms around her, surrounding her. Not an intimidating feeling at all, but comforting. Then the comfort started to vanish, or rather the discomfort started to grow, and she made the first move, pulling up his shirt in back and sliding her hands over his skin.

At that he started nibbling where her jaw met her throat, a particularly sensitive spot. She shivered and leaned against him, allowing him to hold her up while he worked her neck for a few moments and then when she gasped cutting her off with a deep, long kiss. He ended it with obvious reluctance and remained nose-to-nose with her, breathing heavily, his hands starting to move over her body as hers were already moving over his. "Gabrielle," he said softly, his breath tickling her face, "I want to make you happy." A quick kiss. "I want to please you." Another. "Tell me what to do, I..."

He needed her comfort right now, her acceptance, and yet he was asking her what she wanted. She was so touched she could almost...No, she thought, savagely blinking the tears away. No crying, silly girl. Instead... "No," she said quietly, looking into his eyes to make sure he understood what she was saying. "Let me." She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, then met his eyes again. She put her hands underneath the hem of his shirt again and pulled it up over his head. He bent forward and raised his arms, helping her, and stood up once it was off, shaking the hair out of his eyes before looking at her quizzically, half-anticipatory, half-fearful. She approached him and laid her hands on his waist, and he shivered. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked softly.

He shook his head firmly, unable to speak, and she smiled. Carefully, slowly, she slipped her fingers into the top of his pants, undid the ties, and eased them down his legs. She knelt as she did, her hands trailing along his thighs and calves to his ankles. She eased his feet up, first one, then the other, and pulled them out of the cloth. Not a good idea to let him kick it away, he might get tangled up and trip. And anyway--

And anyway he stood naked and revealed before her. His pale skin almost gleamed in the low warm glow of the fading sunlight, like polished marble. But warmer. Much, much warmer. She stroked his calves, then, with some difficulty avoiding the obvious next step, forced herself to her feet and started examining him.

She started at his chest, studying every inch of skin. He was stiff with nervousness and tension at first and she was careful to move as gently as possible, keeping her touch light and her growing desire reined in with careful deep yogic breaths. This was his moment, not hers. Time enough for that later. She moved carefully around his body, feeling him tense instinctively when he could no longer see her, but slowly relaxing again under her touch. He flinched when she moved to areas still healing, not in physical pain, and she lingered there until he relaxed once more. It was almost as hard for her to look as it was for him to allow her to see, and she had to consciously draw her breath even deeper into her belly, remaining calm, pushing away the fury. Not now. Later she could rage in private, but not here, not now. Instead she ran her hands carefully over every mark, every scar, stroking the old pains away. And there were dozens of scars, not only the ones Hassim had put there but old faded ones as well. Gods knew where Joxer had been in his life, what he had done, what had been done to him. His pale skin didn't show the scars well and at a distance he appeared unmarked, but up this close she could see, and grieve. Joxer was such a harmless soul--who could bring themselves to hurt him? She moved around in front of him again, ran her hands over his chest and down his arms--and froze when her left hand encountered the still-raised, still-vivid scar on the inside of his right forearm. For a moment she couldn't breathe, and fear of what might have happened kept her from remembering what had. Then she felt the warmth beneath the skin, the blood pulsing under the surface, and she took his hands in hers and leaned forward and kissed him, putting as much acceptance and affection into the kiss as she could. He leaned into it and returned the kiss, again not with demand, but with gratitude.

Gabrielle licked carefully at his chin, his neck, his throat, lingering for a moment, making it clear what she intended. "Joxer," she said softly, "do you want--"

He was trembling once more, obvious desire warring with instinctive fear. After a long moment he said, "I trust you." He closed his eyes and took a breath. "I trust you, Gabrielle. Do whatever you want."

"Only if you want."

He nodded wordlessly. Gabrielle took a deep breath herself and started slowly once again to kneel, laving his chest and belly with a trail of kisses as she did so, still holding his hands in hers. He tightened his grip, steadying himself, as she lowered herself to her knees. As she reached her goal she almost broke her rhythm, unwillingly, but not surprisingly: okay, she thought, what do I do now?

Well, skin was skin, wasn't it? She continued the line of kisses out along the length of him and licked it carefully, twice, from root to tip. He moaned, a low, guttural sound she'd never heard from him before, and it excited her beyond measure. No. Deep breath, another deep breath. Save.. it.. for.. later, right now...

Wishing she'd done some research before getting this far, Gabrielle allowed instinct to take over once again and hoped it picked the right approach.

Apparently it did. Joxer cried out, again that same wild moan, and his hands clenched painfully tightly around hers, and his hips started moving--this complicated matters--and Gabrielle tried to get everything into proper synch. She didn't think she was doing very well, but Joxer apparently thought otherwise. She sensed the point at which the last barrier fell and he surrendered entirely, no longer holding anything back, no longer hiding, and she would have cried with joy for him herself if she wasn't temporarily kept from saying anything. Instead she increased what she thought was working best, and suddenly he came. Suddenly, powerfully...messily.

Well, okay, Gabrielle thought, rubbing her face on her shoulder, that's going to take a little more practice. Joxer was leaning over her, half-supporting himself on her hands, gasping for breath. Then suddenly he gathered her up and pulled her to him. "Gabrielle," he whispered, covering her face with kisses, trying to kiss and talk at the same time and almost succeeding. "Gabrielle, my angel, my warrior, my queen. Oh, gods." He kissed her over and over, almost holding her clear of the floor and good thing too, because her legs were not in working order right now. "What can I do, how can I ever..."

"I'm sure you can think of something," she gasped. The desire she'd pushed down was now not only back but clamoring furiously for attention. "You....I trust you, Joxer." It was true. The same dam in her had burst along with his, and there was nothing she would not allow him to see. "I trust you. Do whatever you want." She flung her arms around his neck, biting desperately at whatever skin she could reach. "Do whatever.. oh. Yes. Do that. Do it some more, I... yes."

Then she gave herself over to him, and mind ceased entirely for a while.