Title: Fools and Feathers
Author: Goddess Blue (Frog Fish)
Email: goddess.blue @ gmail.com, frogfish.ish @ gmail.com
Rating: For mature audiences only, due to sexually explicit
situations.
Fandom: Xena: Warrior Princess, Hercules the Legendary Journeys
Pairings: Ares/Joxer, Cupid/Strife
Disclaimer: Xena: Warrior Princess, Hercules the Legendary
Journeys, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks
of Universal Television Distribution Holdings LLC. They are used
here for entertainment purposes only.
Warning: Explicit sex. Naughty language. First-time.
Status: Complete
Words: 8213
Archive: Yes to AJCS. And joxerotica. And JoxerFic. Anyone else,
please ask.
Website: http://www.geocities.com/nonexistent_virtually,
http://frog-fish.livejournal.com/,
http://www.fanfiction.net/~goddessblue

Notes: This is my response to the Solstice Scribbler (2004)
challenge, and I hope whoever requested it likes it and has a very
merry holiday.

Summary: In which Cupid makes stupid mistakes in love, Strife
gets Fed. Up. and goes off to find someone a little more
empathetic, and Joxer has the whole world at his feet.

- - -

Joxer trailed along behind the Warrior Princess and her bard,
whistling his theme song.

Quietly.

He didn't understand why the charming verses he'd come up with
rubbed them both the wrong way, but they'd made themselves clear
in the way they'd winced at every enchanting turn of phrase.
After watching them do it for nearly the whole afternoon, he'd
finally decided that they were incapable of appreciating the
scope of his creative genius.

The poor, poor fools.

He'd just decided to switch tunes when Xena held a hand up to
stop their little band and halt his noise.

Gabrielle stiffened, Xena's hand flew to her chakram, and Joxer
looked wildly around for a potential threat. The clanging of his
armor landed sharply in the creeping silence and then all hell
broke loose.

- - -

It wasn't until Cupid's hands slid down a little further than
they really needed to be that all hell broke loose.

The muse he'd been dancing with tripped on her slippers and fell
backwards, pulling him with her so that they landed in a puddle
on the dance floor, the girl probably banging a shin against the
cold marble. Cupid's wings flexed in a subconscious reaction to
their fall, trying to keep them upright, and managed to shove
Aphrodite and Hephaestus over into the tastefully arranged
banquet.

Most of Hestia's special marinade ended up along the side of
Aphrodite's see through dress, and Hephaestus ended up with a
handful of Ambrosia salad. The table tipped over, and a barrel
of what was left of Dionysus' prize wine spilled like blood on a
battlefield. Athena slipped in the sticky mess and landed with a
loud plop on her rear.

It was really the sort of thing that should have been expected
at this particular celebration.

On the other side of the room, the birthday boy watched with a
strange mixture of pleasure and anger. Strife and Cupid had been
seeing each other on the sly since just after Cupid's marriage
to Psyche had crumbled around them. They hadn't been cut out for
each other, Cupid had explained; it hadn't really been love.

Psyche had been lucky enough to find such love elsewhere, and
even Cupid had been happy for her and Asclepius. The rest of
Olympus had waited on baited breath for weeks at the thought of
a return from Cupid's uglier, greener side. It hadn't happened,
and they'd all settled back into a relatively normal rhythm,
many wondering where Cupid had gotten his newly discovered
patience.

The truth was that Cupid hadn't found patience, he'd just found
a few better ways to vent. Strife had caught him at a vulnerable
moment, and Cupid had pounced and taken what was his. Strife
hadn't complained, and had even later affirmed that it had been
Cupid's all along.

The 'it' being Strife.

Their lack-of-relationship had continued thusly for several
months until Strife had slipped during one of the most intense
orgasms of his existence and said three words which had thrown
Cupid into a panic.

Strife had found himself in the peculiar situation of having to
seduce a man who knew everything there was to know about
seduction. He'd swallowed his pride and conned some advice out
of Aphrodite, claiming to have become smitten with one of Ares'
priestesses. She'd given him a beaming 'aren't you so cute'
smile, and taken him aside, and told him all there was to know
about seducing a woman.

None of it sounded like something he'd like to do to Cupid;
flowers and honeyed wine just weren't his thing. It had worked
in his favor anyway, since Aphrodite had predictably gushed to
Cupid that his cousin was finally discovering a romantic
interest in someone.

Cupid had tracked him down in Corinth where he'd been planning a
nasty surprise for King Iphicles, and carted him off to the
nearest temple. The winged God kept him there for two weeks, his
infamous jealousy prompting him to finally return Strife's
declaration.

The wonderful moment had been ruined for Strife when Cupid had
added, "I'd rather no one found out about us yet, though. I'm
not sure I'm ready."

"Not," Strife had spluttered, "ready? As in, 'I love you, but
I'm not ready?' not ready?"

Cupid had looked deeply into his eyes and melted his indignation
with a hopeful look, "I'm just not ready. I don't think /we're/
ready for the pressure that the rest of Olympus would put us
under, if they knew."

Strife had opened his mouth to argue, but Cupid had interrupted
him, "Please?"

So Strife hadn't pushed Cupid. He'd snuk into and out of Cupid's
temple three nights a week, disappeared periodically to any
place Cupid asked him to be, and tried very hard not to act
miserable. He walked out of every meeting instead of flashing
out, because Cupid was concerned that his power signature would
be traced. He made the most ridiculous excuses to Ares for
missing this or that. He avoided Aphrodite as much as he
possibly could. It had gone on for over a year, and Cupid didn't
seem to be getting any further towards acknowledging him in
front of the pantheon.

But today was his birthday (three-hundred-seventeen
mischief-filled years, thanks), and what he'd really wanted was
some kind of declaration from his lover. It wasn't as if he'd
been asking for ballads and love songs on bended knee in front
of the Pantheon; he really just wanted to show up with Cupid. A
dance, maybe. He'd even dressed up in clothes he /knew/ Cupid
liked, soft tan breeches and a clean, white shirt. He'd grown
his hair out a few inches.

But Cupid had flashed in, shook his hand and patted his back,
and swept the nearest Goddess onto the floor.

So could he be blamed if he'd watched and fumed? Could he be
blamed if his frustration had sparked trouble for Cupid and his
wandering hands? Could anyone really be upset that Cupid lost a
few feathers for his trouble, and Strife's eyes flashed with
empty satisfaction?

Hera's shoes were turning red, stained from the wine.

The party ground to a halt.

- - -

Joxer counted three attackers as he pulled for his sword.

Which was stuck.

Strange, he'd sharpened it earlier, and his scabbard had been
well taken care of, so there shouldn't have been a problem.
Weapons malfunction... well, this didn't matter. Happened to
lots of heroes, really. Besides, he could kill with just his
bare hands.

Okay, maybe kill was a little strong. Joxer preferred to
disable.

With a lusty shout, Joxer dashed into the battle, tripping
Gabrielle as he went.

- - -

"You did that on purpose," Cupid had retreated to one of the War
temple's guest rooms and was fooling with his plumage. He'd
given Strife a speaking look as he'd left the arguing guests,
and Strife had rolled his eyes and followed after him.

"It's mah party. I c'n trash it if I want to," Strife grumbled.
He fished out a dagger and proceeded to pick at his nails while
his boyfriend groomed. Cupid finished with his wings, then ran a
hand through his hair. He turned to Strife and watched him
fidget, not meeting his eyes.

"What's your problem, Strife?"

Strife was quiet for a moment then let his hand drop to his
side, dagger dangling. "You weh all ovah her."

"I thought we'd agreed we weren't ready to tell anyone-"

"No, you agreed. You ain't ready. I'm ready. Ah've been ready."

"Strife-"

"I love ya, Cupid." Cupid squirmed, and Strife flashed his
dagger away. "I love ya, but I ain't gonna do this no more."

"Strife, I love you, too. I just..." Cupid trailed off and they
shared an uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah, I know. Ya ain't 'ready'." Strife really, really wanted
to be angry. And he would be, later, but not when Cupid was
around to see it. "Maybeh this just ain't gonna work. Maybeh we
should quit tryin'."

- - -

"Joxer!" Xena shouted in warning, and then winced as the
would-be warrior went down hard. Luckily, he took one of the
thugs down with him. She took advantage of the distraction and
kicked the man across the back of his head. There was a muffled
groan, and then Joxer was effectively pinned by the dead... er,
unconscious... weight.

"Stay right there, Joxer. Don't try to get up!"

- - -

"What are you saying?" Cupid whispered, blindsided.

Strife sighed and threw his hands up. "We should break up."

"What? Why?"

Cupid looked honestly confused, which irritated Strife even
more, but the Mischief God held his anger back. For now. "You
ain't ready to tell anyone about us, and I ain't gonna wait
around forever. Sorry, Cupes. It's been fun."

"Fun? You said you loved me."

"Maybeh I lied."

- - -

"Joxer! I thought I told you to stay down!"

"I can't help from down there!" Joxer held up his sword, having
finally rescued it from its scabbard, and growled at the last of
the three thugs... who was immediately joined by four more who
seemed to seep from the forest itself. "Uh oh."

"Joxer! Duck!"

Joxer ducked.

- - -

The silence stretched between them, and Strife studiously
avoided meeting Cupid's eyes.

"But, you didn't lie. I know you love me."

Strife shrugged, and before Cupid could say another word,
blinked out.

- - -

The man in front of him landed on his back, out for the count
and bleeding from his nose. Two of the four new men moved to
Xena and Gabrielle, weapons drawn and poised to do damage.

The other two smiled menacingly down at Joxer.

Joxer scrambled to his feet and waved his sword threateningly at
the two. They exchanged glances, smiled, and advanced on him.

- - -

Cupid stared at the empty space in front of him, mouth hanging
open, and tried to absorb what had just happened. Strife loved
him, he knew that. It was obvious in the way Strife said his
name and looked at him and catered to his every whim... okay,
maybe that wasn't a good example. Surely Cupid hadn't been
/that/ selfish.

Had he?

- - -

Xena finished tying up the last of the unconscious goons while
Gabrielle worked on the wicked cut on Joxer's upper arm.

He flexed his muscles and smiled warmly at her. Battle wounds,
guaranteed to impress the ladies.

She rolled her eyes and gently bopped him on the nose with her
free hand. "Xena said to stay /down/, Joxer. You could've gotten
/killed/. That was dangerous."

He was warmed by her show of concern--

"It's not like you could do anything to /help/ anyway! And you
tripped me!"

His smile fell at the subsequent, and a little more forceful,
bop to his nose. "Sorry, Gabby. I was just trying to help--"

"And don't call me that. You know I don't like that nickname,
Joxer." She pulled tight on the strip of cloth over his wound
and stepped away with a nod. "That should hold until we get to
town. You shouldn't take these kinds of chances, Joxer. Come on,
we'd better get moving if we want to get in to see the local
magistrate before sundown."

Xena woke the last of the men up and guided them together to
their feet. "Get moving, or you'll be feeling my chakram in an
uncomfortable place, boys."

The began to move; as quickly as the ne'er-do-wells /could/
being tied together like that, towards town.

Joxer ambled after them, slumped into himself for a minute...
and then from the corner of his eye he saw a shadow move amongst
the forest trees. His head whipped around to see Xena busy with
their captives and Gabrielle busy with Argo.

They hadn't seen anything...

He turned back, but the shadow was gone. There was a clank as he
stopped walking. Xena stiffened, "What's wrong Joxer?"

"Er... I need to visit the little warrior's bush, Xena. I'll
catch up with you two?"

Gabby's nose wrinkled up and Xena smirked. One of their captives
made an aborted attempt at a joke until Xena waved at him with
her chakram. "Fine, Joxer. We'll see you in town. Don't be
long... and be careful!"

Be careful? Joxer huffed internally; for all she knew he was
going to take a leak.

"Sure Xena."

And then he ambled off into the trees, patting himself on the
back for being the only one of them to realize that they hadn't
caught the group leader; the only one to notice the shadow.

- - -

Ares watched the chaos of his nephew's fizzled birthday party
proudly, and then frowned when Cupid flashed back in. He looked
around at the crowd for something, or someone, as if annoyed.

Strife hadn't returned, though Ares had seen Cupid motion him
away, which meant that he was probably responsible for the mess
and had had a fight with Cupid over it.

Which possibly meant he was off somewhere sulking.

This would never do, if only because he hadn't yet given Strife
his birthday present. With a flex of his power, he disappeared
from amidst the shouting guests to a clear field in the daylight
of Greece, hidden from mortal vision.

His nephew crouched behind a convenient bush and watched as Xena
and her little side-kick attempted to wrestle seven rather big
men towards the nearest township.

"Hero baiting?"

Strife sighed and then glared back at Ares, who decided not to
let it annoy him. "It's your birthday, and you're here?"

"Ya heah to yell at me fah the party?"

"No. I thought that was actually kind of funny. Besides, it was
your party. You didn't have to leave. In fact, you missed a
rather amusing scene between Aphrodite and Athena; something
about Aphrodite helping her fall back into the wine after she'd
finally gotten up."

Strife waved it off. "Not in tha mood."

"And you think Xena and the bard will cheer you up?"

At that moment, there was a high yelp as one of the captives
found the rope around his wrists loosening. And then a muffled
"oomph" as he fell to the ground unconscious and dragged his
buddies down after him.

Strife giggled.

"Right. Well, if you're not going back, then I guess I'll have
to give you your present now."

Strife straightened and smiled hopefully at his uncle. "Mah
present?"

"A week," Ares intoned, "a week just for yourself. No War
duties, no Godly duties. No late-night calls. No questions. Just
yours to do with as you please. I won't even ask what you do
with it, so long as you have fun. Spend time with anyone you
want," he stressed the last sentence and looked away.

Strife stared at him, then frowned. "But wha about that war up
in Thrace?"

"Your mother and I will handle it. Stop asking me questions, or
I'll change my mind."

"Thanks, Unc!"

Ares waved him off, and then studied the scene in front of them.
"Where's that bungling little warrior that follows after them?"

"Maybe he ain't with 'em today?"

"Of course he is, he was here just a few days ago when I had
them ambushed outside of Athens," Ares squinted and looked after
Xena, who'd finally gotten their little group moving again.

Strife shrugged and looked around... and then narrowed his eyes
in the direction from which Xena and Gabrielle had come. "He's
probly around, Unc. I'm gonna start my week now."

Ares looked back over at him, raising both eyebrows in surprise.
Strife stared back at him.

Ares sighed, "All right, I'll see you next week."

- - -

Strife found Joxer moments later, and the man had gotten himself
into some serious trouble. He lay tied and bound at the feet of
a rather grotesquely large man who seemed to think himself lucky
indeed. It was clear that Joxer had struggled at the beginning,
although he'd obviously given up now. He stared up at his
captor, eyes wide.

But not with fear.

It was more like... curiosity. His eyelids dipped low for a
moment, and then fluttered back up and he smiled through the
roughly put together gag. Smiled big.

The man lost his own smile and said, voice gravelly, "What're
/you/ smiling at, pansy?"

Joxer tensed in his bonds and the man's eyes narrowed. "What are
you up to--"

His suspicious questioning was cut off as the clump of dirt flew
into his face, getting into his eyes and making him cry out and
claw at himself. Strife settled in to watch and smirked at the
young warrior's antics.

Joxer struggled wildly against the ropes and as a consequence
got nearly three feet away from the cursing goon before he
managed to wipe the debris from his eyes. "You little /shit/. I
was gonna just /kill/ you to show Xena that she can't push
everyone around--"

Strife snorted at the idea of this man showing Xena /anything./

"--but now I'm gonna let you /live/, kid. I'm gonna make sure
you remember my name!"

And then the mercenary took two strides forward and kicked Joxer
viciously... in the head.

A flare of something rather angry shot in Strife's guts. He'd
never been a fan of kicking people while they were down; there
wasn't any effort or finesse in it. He'd been watching the
little warrior, certain he'd pull something out of that
distressingly lucky little ass of his before the situation
became violent, but with the mercenary's show of cruelty it
became obvious that Strife was about /it/ for the mortal.

Where the hell was Xena when you needed her?

The man towered over the unconscious form of Ares' least skilled
warrior and exuded impatience. He was waiting for Joxer to wake
up so that he could punish a receptive audience. Luckily for
him, he wouldn't have to wait. Strife was paying /very/ close
attention.

He came to his feet and flashed into existence across from the
man, Joxer between them.

"If he don't wake up soon, ain't /no one/ gonna remember yah
name."

The man reared back and fell flat to his ass in the mussed dirt,
staring up at Strife in shock. "Who're you?"

"Wouldn't you like ta know?" Strife wasn't stupid; if Xena knew
he was out defending her little tag-a-long she'd start wanting
to know /why/. And since he didn't really have a concrete
reason, Strife had rather just keep her off his back as long as
possible. "Don't worry 'bout it. 'M sure Hades'll fill you in."

The man's eyes widened imperceptibly before the fireball hit
him, causing him to scream and writhe in agony.

At Strife's feet, Joxer twitched and groaned.

Strife waved a hand and the screaming mass of flesh and bone was
transported to a field somewhere just outside of Corinth--let
Iphicles clean that shit up.

And then Joxer shook his head gingerly and looked up at him, and
Strife realized he was still visible.

Joxer didn't look suprised to see him.

They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Strife
realized that the mortal was still tied up, and after saving him
he couldn't just /leave/ him here.

Well, he could. But Cupid would be disappointed in him and--

Strife frowned and Joxer frowned back at him in confusion. With
a sigh and a shake of his head; it may take a while to get over
this Cupid stuff; Strife bent and removed the gag.

Joxer coughed and struggled, and then settled back into his
ropes and clanking armor and smiled up at Strife. "Hi. I'm
Joxer."

"Str... er... Stropacus. You can call me Strop. You okay?" He
/really/ didn't need Xena on his back. And anyway, hadn't the
pissant seen him before? He hoped there wasn't any permanent
damage to the head--oh, wait. He was still dressed up in that
froofy outfit for Cupid.

Life. Sucked.

"Nice to meet you, Strop. Can you... I hate to ask, and normally
I'd just untie myself, but I think I lost my dagger and--"

Strife rolled his eyes and bent to untie the mortal completely.

"Ah, thank you." Joxer struggled to his feet--only fell twice,
and that could conceivably be blamed on the rush of blood to his
abused head--and then hugged Strife warmly. Then realized he was
hugging another man and pulled back to punch him weakly on the
shoulder. "That was an adventure, wasn't it? I bet he had you as
his prisoner, too. Is there anyone else? You're lucky I rescued
you."

"Yeah--wha?"

"He didn't have anyone else, then?" Joxer asked again, and
Strife wondered if he'd imagined him saying that last part.

If he was going crazy--well, at least it was a family tradition.

"You're really kind of lucky, though," Joxer interrupted
Strife's musing. "I mean, if I hadn't come along just then, who
knows what might have happened to you."

Strife paused then, and turned his head to stare in shock at
Joxer's earnest countenance. Okay, not hearing things.

"Excuse me?"

Joxer walked a few steps towards the open road, then stopped
when he realized that Strife wasn't keeping up with him. He
turned, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone that you needed me to
save you. Come on, I'm sure Gabby and Xena won't mind you
tagging along. They've got this soft spot for... well, people
like you."

"People like..." Strife trailed off and raised an eyebrow,
fighting back the urge to take offense, "...me?"

Joxer walked back to him, and then patted his shoulder
comfortingly, "You know, defenseless kids. Hey," Joxer held up
his hands at Strife's perplexed frown, "It's okay. I was like
that once too, a long time ago. You'll learn."

Joxer gave him a bright, encouraging smile.

Well... Strife did need somewhere to stay for the next week. And
Joxer obviously needed some divine intervention...

- - -

Two days later found the four of them camped on the other side
of the farming village, gathered around their campfire,
listening to the harpy's stories.

It had been kind of easy to convince Xena and Gabrielle that he
was just a random traveler who'd been captured by Brathus--that
turned out to be the mercenary's name--and subsequently rescued
by Joxer. He'd gone with Joxer's story, mostly because he was
unarmed and it was a little easier to believe that Joxer might
have inadvertently tripped the merc and saved him.

He was traveling with them because "tha roads just ain't /safe/
anymore. Yah headed to Thrace? Whatta coincidence..."

As long as he didn't use any of his Godly powers to help himself
along, Xena wouldn't be able to sense him with that freaky
birthright of hers, and he was still pretty well disguised by
the new duds and longer hair.

The hardest part was remembering to answer to 'Stropacus,'
though Joxer made it easier by usually referring to him as
'Strop,' which was close enough to 'Strife' to make him turn his
head and look around.

He'd been careful enough not to let the mortal get any sleep
that first night in the barn they'd managed to beg off some
village person. If Joxer went to sleep with an injury to his
head without proving to Strife's satisfaction that he didn't
have a concussion, he might never wake up.

So for a whole moonlit night Strife was treated to the bouncy,
cheery, bumbling enigma that was Joxer.

The man had talked on and on about his adventures, some of which
Strife had heard of before and knew for a fact the mortal hadn't
even been /near/ at the time in which they occured. But Joxer
just looked so innocently truthful when he told his stories that
Strife couldn't resist checking the mortal's thoughts using his
Godly powers, even with Xena snoring just ten feet away from
them.

It had surprised him to find that Joxer was, indeed, telling the
truth. Or rather, /a/ truth.

/His/ truth.

The world through Joxer's eyes, Strife mused while Joxer babbled
on, was really quite beautiful. Men were real men. Women were
real women.

Even Gabrielle was a beautiful, caring, loving woman in Joxer's
truth, which explained a lot. Like why the idiot--no, not an
idiot--warrior followed after her like a trained puppy. In
Joxer's world she was worthy of it.

In Joxer's world Xena and Hercules were the legends they one day
would be, and not just the heroes they currently were. In
Joxer's world /Joxer/ was a hero, too.

Strife had pulled out quickly after that and just settled down
to listen to Joxer tell his own version of Greece's greatest
triumphs, only jumping in to prod him when he seemed a little
sleepy. Joxer was a champ, actually; he'd only yawned widely and
never once complained that Strife seemed determined to keep him
awake.

He hadn't complained throughout their whole day of travels that
day, either, and seemed determined now not to fall asleep until
Gabrielle's story was complete.

And she was taking one hell of a long time to tell it...

"--and then the mighty Hercules swept down on Geryon, club in
hand, and knocked his third head out. While the monster lay
unconscious, Hercules freed the Spanish cattle and led them to
safety and on to Zeus."

Gabrielle smiled beatifically at them, and Xena clapped
dutifully. Strife resisted the urge to roll his eyes and
remained silent, but Joxer frowned across the fire at the object
of his affections. "Wait... he stole the cattle?"

Gabrielle sighed and shook her head, "No, Joxer. Geryon was a
monster."

"And the cattle were his, right? I mean, just because Zeus
wanted them--"

"He was a /monster/."

"A monster who owned cattle. I thought Hercules said stealing
was wrong?"

"Stealing /is/ wrong, Joxer. But Geryon wasn't a man... he
didn't really own that cattle. He probably stole them."

"But--"

"Listen, Joxer. It's late, and you were dragging /all/ day. Get
some sleep," Xena stepped in to cut off the argument. Strife
sighed and settled back into his bedroll, and then stiffened as
Xena leapt to her feet. "Show yourself, Ares!"

They all looked around wildly for a moment, except Strife who
winced and settled deeper into his bedroll and tried to look
scared.

"You know, the idiot--"

[Not an idiot.] Strife sent to Ares mid-sentence.

"--has a point. Hercules is a big, fat hypocrite. New company?"
Ares narrowed his eyes at Strife and mentally sent back, [What
the hell are you doing here?]

[Whatever the /hell/ I want, Unc. Birthday present, remember?]

"Leave him alone, Ares. Your fight is with /me/."

Xena's sword tip dipped and she took on a battle stance worthy
of the finest warrior.

[You've been spending all this time with that useless mortal?]

Ares took to having two conversations at once with his natural
aplomb; "All right, let's rumble."

Strife rolled his eyes, and luckily wasn't caught by any of the
other members of their little group. Beside him, Joxer relaxed
into the perfect position to get the most out of his opportunity
to watch the God of War fight his once-greatest warrior.

[Oh, he ain't that bad. Well... at first he's a little--but he
gets bettuh! Takes my mind offa things. He's great,] Strife sent
to Ares.

[Is he?]

The clank of steel against steel rang through their campsite,
and Gabrielle took the opportunity to scramble back to her
companions and put a hand on Joxer's arm to stay him. It looked
almost as if he'd wanted to get up and /help/.

[Hey, you gave me the week off. I get ta pick who I spend it
with. And I wanna spend it with the useless mortal, even if he's
got cruddy taste in friends. Besides, I can't leave /now/. Said
ah'd be his sidekick today. He's gonna change the song.]

Strife watched in glee as Ares' footing slipped and Xena got in
a lucky cut.

Ares threw him a glare and swept a leg under Xena's, attempting
to knock her down. She jumped over his leg, though and
summersaulted back about ten feet. "What do you /want/, Ares?"

"Really? I want what every God wants. A nice, soft bed waiting
for me with a warm body in it. Flowers for my birthday. Your
bard's head in my trophy room."

Joxer flinched beside him and Xena growled, charging Ares.

Ares side-stepped her, and she quickly tumbled out of the head
she'd fallen into. "Never let them get you angry, Xena."

[Have fun then, Strife.]

And he flashed out, as if he never was.

- - -

Ares threw himself down in his throne in a huff. It figured. All
that work and sacrifice--it hadn't been /easy/ finding a way to
give Strife a whole week off--and the kid wasn't even spending
his vacation in the /right place./

He conjured up a mirror and watched the scene he'd left. In the
little camp, Xena let her frustrations out on her bedroll as
Gabrielle tried to calm her down. On the other side of the
campfire Joxer patted Strife gently on the shoulder.

~"Don't worry about Lord Ares, he's not a bad God."~

Strife turned to look at him, and Ares could see the disbelief
on his face. Ares was probably sharing the same expression.
~"Not a bad God?"~

~"Nah. He's just... what he is. Necessary. And he likes to make
Xena angry."~

Ares grunted.

~"Besides, she kind of brings it on herself, the way she talks
about him. And Gabby, too, for all that. I mean, I..."~ Joxer
blushed, ~"--like Gabby a lot, but she really shouldn't talk
about the Gods like that."~

Xena turned on him. ~"Joxer, shut up. Ares is /evil/--"~

Joxer shut up, and exchanged a speaking look with Strife, who
was enjoying this argument a little too much. Especially since
it looked like it wasn't the first time the threesome had had
this discussion.

~"I don't know how we'll ever get it through your head, Joxer,"~
Gabrielle interrupted Xena, ~"With all the times we've been
attacked, you'd think you'd figure out we were /on to/
something."~

Joxer didn't look as if he could keep his argument back, ~"With
all the times we've been attacked, you'd think /you'd/ figure
out that they don't like being blasphemed."~

Gabrielle threw her hands up, and Xena grit her teeth and
answered him, ~"Joxer, Ares is--"~

~"Necessary."~

~"I /know/, but that doesn't mean I have to /like/ him."~

~"I didn't say you had to like him,"~ Joxer said, ~"but you're
not going to be able to get much done if you don't just let it
/go/ and get on with your own redemption. You don't have to be
openly hostile. You could just try /ignoring/ him."~

Ares huffed at the thought of being ignored.

Xena rocked back on her heels and stared at Joxer.

~"I mean, think about it,"~ he went on, ~"if he wasn't all over
you all the time for spreading stories about how /evil/ he is,
maybe you'd be able to help a lot more people."~

There was silence for a minute, and Ares could hear Strife
mentally cheering.

"What are you looking at?" Cupid's voice startled Ares out of
his spying, and Cupid grabbed hold of the mirror.

"I thought you didn't know where he /was/," Cupid growled at his
father after studying the scene--specifically the way Strife was
leaning into Joxer and mentally cheering him on.

"I didn't, not until tonight." Ares leaned back in his throne,
and offered a thin smile, "I gave him the week off, and it looks
like he's getting cosy with Xena's pet warrior--"

Cupid had flashed out, mirror in hand, before Ares could finish
his sentence.

The God of War smiled brighter and conjured up another mirror.

About time.

- - -

Cupid appeared in a flash of blue sparks and all of them whirled
with weapons ready, except Strife who didn't have any.

Cupid glared at Joxer.

"Cupid?" Gabrielle asked, confused.

"Excuse me, that belongs to me."

"Hey!" Strife began, before he was flashed--protesting--back to
Olympus.

- - -

"Woah," Joxer said, after the silence had stretched on for an
awkward amount of time.

"Cupid," Xena shouted, "bring Stropacus back right now!"

There was no answer, and in an angry huff, Xena began to pack up
her belongings. "Come on, we've got to press on to Thrace.
There'll be a temple to Cupid... or maybe /Aphrodite/... there,
and we can see where he's gone to."

Gabrielle stayed her hands, "Come on, Xena. It's too late
tonight. We won't be any good to Stropacus if we're dead on our
feet. And it's Cupid. What could he possibly do to Stropacus?"

- - -

Strife was naked and tied to Cupid's bed with delicate,
deceptively strong metal links looped around his wrists. "What's
this?"

"Come on, Strife. Hephaestus wanted to marry my mother, and that
required making nice with the adopted kids. Ergo, special
Hephaestian chains, courtesy Daddy Heph." Cupid didn't look at
Strife as he said this, he was far too busy stripping him of his
soft, cowhide breeches. "Did I mention the new look turns me
/on./ Not so much that it looks good on you--"

Strife tried really hard not to take offense at that, having
learned that Cupid often said really stupid things when they
were half-naked. Aphrodite had once explained to him that Cupid
was affected by what she called the 'duh-face' aspect of love.
Certain lovers, when faced with their heart's desire, tended
more toward the helpless spluttering and awkwardly placed
statements than poetry and song. She'd said that Cupid had
gotten that particular manifestation of love, and thank goodness
it hadn't been her.

Strife had just been thankful that the occasional inappropriate
comment was more Cupid's /nature/ than any intent on his part to
harm Strife.

"--but the fact that you did it. Just. For. Me."

"Didn't think ya noticed."

"Oh, I noticed." The breeches were down around his thighs now,
and Cupid bent over his--suprise!--erection.

"Don't."

It really killed him to stop Cupid, but...

"Huh?"

"Don't. I told ya, Cupes. We're /over./"

"Don't say that, Strife. We're having problems, but that doesn't
mean we're over--"

"Problems? Cupes. I can't anymore. Okay? Just... let me go."

"No," Cupid squeezed his thighs then, and stared at him.

"Yeah. I can't do this--"

"I want to tell them."

"--anymore. What?"

"You were right, and I was wrong. I just needed you to shove my
face in it before I could realize that I love you so much and
you /deserve/ for everyone to know it."

"Oh."

Cupid smiled at him, and then Strife smiled back, and they
shared a tender moment before Cupid bent over him again.

"Wait."

"What!" Cupid's head shot up and he glared at Strife. Strife
smirked.

"Not until /everyone/ knows."

Cupid grumbled, and then smirked right back at him, "Okay."

And then there was a flew of power and they were both naked and
Cupid was crawling on top of him, until they were face to face.
He nuzzled his face in Strife's neck.

"I wasn't kidding, Cupes--"

"Hermes!"

"--you're not--"

"Yeah, Cupid? Woah!"

"--getting /any/ action until everyone knows... shit. Hi,
Hermes."

"Woah."

Cupid bit at Strife's neck. "Hermes, I have a message. Ready?"

"Woah."

"'Cupid, God of Love, would like for it to be known that he is
happily and irrevocably in love with Strife, God of Mischief.
Forever and ever.' Get that?"

"Uh..." Hermes cleared his throat and looked away when Strife
sort of bumped upwards into Cupid. "Right. Who's it to?"

"Everyone."

"The Pantheon?"

"No, everyone."

"Er... the demi-gods too?"

"No, Hermes. I want everyone in Greece and on Olympus or
anywhere in between to hear that message. And make it quick."

Hermes shifted uncomfortably, "That's gonna take a while, dude.
And I'm a busy guy--"

"Do it now, and quick, or you'll be fucking fat merchants in
Thebes for the rest of your existence."

"Geeze. You need to get laid, Cupid."

"Yes. I do."

"Me too," Strife finally added to the conversation, "so get
going, message-boy."

"Okay, you're gonna regret that one."

And then Hermes flashed out and Strife and Cupid were left
alone.

"Strife--"

"That's long enough to wait."

"Yes!" Cupid dived back into Strife's neck, and Strife resolved
to thank Hephaestus as soon as he could move again.

Cupid bit him in the good place just below his jaw, and he
jerked against the chains, up against Cupid.

Cupid bit him there again.

"You fucking tease, Cupes!"

Cupid chuckled and kissed down his body to Strife's neglected
erection.

Strife howled in thanks as Cupid slid his tongue along the
length.

- - -

Hermes flashed into the council chamber, where a meeting of the
House of Intellect and the two rulers of Olympus was taking
place.

Apollo and Athena stopped mid-argument and stared at Hermes when
he cleared his throat.

Hera turned to him expectantly.

Zeus frowned.

Hermes cleared his throat again, and began to deliver Cupid's
message: "'Cupid, God of Love, would like for it to be known
that he is happily and irrevocably in love with Strife, God of
Mischief. Forever and ever.'"

And then he flashed out, and the council chamber remained silent
for a little while longer.

- - -

"Oh, /Heph/..."

"My love," Hephaestus slipped the sleeve of her gown off of her
shoulder, and then pulled it hastily back up when Hermes flashed
in.

Hermes didn't acknowledge Hephaestus' glare, he just opened his
mouth and delivered: "'Cupid, God of Love, would like for it to
be known that he is happily and irrevocably in love with Strife,
God of Mischief. Forever and ever.'"

A moment late the room was minus one messenger God, and
Aphrodite squeaked in surprise.

- - -

Hermes flashed into the Halls of War, and decided to just launch
into his message: "'Cupid, God of Love--'"

"I know," Ares interrupted him, then waved him off. "Go tell
someone else."

Hermes huffed, annoyed, and flashed out.

- - -

Several dozen visits later he flashed into a little bar in
Corinth, where Hercules and Iolaus sat and discussed the
possible cause of the smoking pile of bones and blood that had
appeared in a field outside of Corinth the day before.

They stopped when Hermes arrived and gave him their full
attention.

He clapped them each on the shoulder and stole a sip of Iolaus'
mead before: "'Cupid, God of Love, would like for it to be known
that he is happily and irrevocably in love with Strife, God of
Mischief. Forever and ever.'"

Hercules' jaw dropped and Hermes, sufficiently pleased, flashed
out.

"Well," Iolaus picked up his mug and took a long sip, "I guess
that answers /that/ question."

- - -

The flash of light woke Joxer up, and Xena was on her feet,
sword in hand, before the God had finished flashing in.

"Ares!"

"Nope, wrong. Hermes. Me Hermes, you Xena. /Xena/."

Xena lowered her sword, "Hermes?"

"Yeah. Here goes," he kicked Gabrielle not so gently awake.
"Don't wanna hafta come back, do I? Here goes: 'Cupid, God of
Love, would like for it to be known that he is happily and
irrevocably in love with Strife, God of Mischief. Forever and
ever.'"

And then he flashed away.

Xena stared at the empty space, "Oh."

"Huh. I wonder what that has to do with Stropacus?" Joxer mused.

Gabrielle turned bleary, confused eyes on him. "I think
Stropacus /was/ Strife. Now that I think of it, if you cut that
hair a little and put some different clothes on him--"

Xena cursed, "That means he was here trying to trick us into
some kind of trap for Ares--"

"Or maybe he was just on vacation," Joxer offered. "I thought
you decided you were going to try ignoring the Gods for a
while."

"Yeah? It doesn't seem to be /working./"

"Well," Joxer rolled back over and attempted to get back to
sleep, "maybe you need a little more practice."

- - -

A long time after dawn that next morning, Hermes returned to
Cupid's bedroom to report his task finished, and found the
lovers out cold and wrapped tightly around each other and a
rather girly set of Hephaestian metal links.

"You're welcome," he said dryly.

And then he flashed out.

- - -

Joxer was well rested the next day, but pretty stinky too. He'd
excused himself from the girls, who'd decided they were going to
remain camped where they were that day to 'think about some of
the things you said yesterday.'

Which was nice, because he was pretty sure they hadn't done that
before.

He was naked and half-submerged when something moved on the
shore of the pond and coughed.

He turned to see Ares staring at him.

"Er..."

Ares waited for a reaction. Expecting a yell or a recrimination,
he was flummoxed by what he got.

"Ares, did you have to startle me like that? I've told you a
/million/ times..."

And Joxer went on in that vein.

And Ares gaped at him.

The man was... acting as if Ares flashed in to watch him
bathe... all the /time/. Like this was normal...

"Joxer."

"Would you come down here and wash my back, love?"

/Love?/ Ares mouthed. "I have a question for you," he offered
weakly instead.

"Yes? Are you going to just sit there all afternoon?" Joxer
grinned at him, and Ares was beginning to wonder if he'd been
sucked into an alternate reality. Again.

"What you said yesterday to Xena," Ares carefully began, "did
you mean it?"

"Which part?" Joxer cupped his hands in the pond water and
tossed it over his head, letting it rain over his face and into
his hair and down his surprisingly, leanly muscled chest.

"The part where you think I'm necessary?"

"Of course, Ares--"

"And the part where you think I can be ignored?"

"Oh." Joxer grinned at him again, and then sank chin deep into
the water, "afraid I'm going to forget you? Ares? I'll /never/
forget you."

And the way he said it had Ares wondering what he was really
doing there in the first place.

He dipped into Joxer's head and looked at the world through the
mortal's eyes... and saw himself happy. Saw the memories, false
but somehow real, of them tangled naked together on his altar in
Thrace.

Saw himself sink into that mortal and kiss his neck and claw at
his back. Saw Joxer bend under him and open up like an offering.
Saw Joxer's fingers dig into his hips, and almost felt the
pressure on his own hips.

"Oh."

He snapped out of Joxer's head and stared at him in confusion
for a moment, and then Joxer stood and waded out of the pool.
Naked and wet and scarred in interesting places that Ares was
getting the odd urge to lick.

His stomach twisted up, and then he remembered that he was the
God of War and he took what he wanted when he wanted it.

He met Joxer halfway, shedding his clothes with a thought, and
pulled him in for a fierce kiss.

Joxer's eyes widened before slipping shut, and he pressed up
against Ares hungrily, fingers seeking purchase on any bared
flesh they could get at.

When Ares pulled back, Joxer looked confused, and then his hand
reached up to touch the side of Ares' face. They paused there
for a second, and then pressed a little harder. "You're real."

"Yeah. And you're proving to be more interesting by the moment.
Have you got a problem?"

Joxer squeaked and took a step back.

Ares hooked his arms underneath Joxer's and pulled him back.

Joxer remained stiffened against him until Ares' tongue slipped
past the barriers of his lips and swept the flavor from his
mouth. And then Joxer whimpered and crumpled against him, and
Ares swung him off his feet and lay him down in the grass.

Joxer didn't lose the surprised look until Ares began toying
with his nipples, and by that time he was groaning into Ares'
touch like his body was starving for it.

And maybe it was... it had been so long since they'd... wait,
they'd never... Ares never even spoke to him. Ares was after
/Xena/.

Ares was also touching him everywhere on the cool green grass by
the pond he'd just finished bathing in, and Joxer was having
trouble telling his realities apart.

Ares bit him and he came to ground.

"You're--/Ares/."

"Yes," Ares husked out, and pulled himself up over Joxer. "Are
you scared?"

Joxer shook his head, and then paused mid-shake and began
nodding instead.

"Probably a good idea."

Ares lightly bit his chin and then lave his ear with his tongue.
Joxer hardened imperceptibly more and humped up against his God.
"Ares..."

Ares exerted a little pressure and Joxer felt coolness on his
rear... in his ass. And then Ares' fingers burned a trail that
direction and slipped roughly past his muscles, causing him to
arch into the God's free hand and whimper loudly. "Please don't
go 'way," he pleaded, throwing his head back.

Ares watched him writhe and stretched him further.

"Please? Please be here when I wake up. Don't go away."

Ares didn't make promises--"Never."--but there was something
about--"I'll never go away, Joxer."--the way Joxer moved around
him and--"And neither will you, right?"--clenched around him
whenever he said something.

"No. Yes. Never go away."

It was much too soon, but Ares was impatient and Joxer was
desperate already, and so the God of War lifted Joxer's legs
around his waist and guided himself to his warrior's body. "Are
you ready?"

The head of his cock pressed against the prepared muscle, and
Joxer... Joxer cried out and growled at the /same time/. "Yes!"

Ares pushed in, holding himself back to cause the least amount
of damage. Joxer let him set the pace for the first few thrusts,
and then began to whine and move back against him. "So... good.
Really you. /So/ good."

Ares couldn't resist, and dipped into Joxer's mind to see the
scene through his own personal view of the world, gratified to
suddenly find himself in the exact same scene he was physically
acting out.

It made him shove abruptly harder into Joxer. Three repeated
jabs to Joxer's prostrate.

Joxer's world burst in flashes of Godlight, and he cried out
Ares' name as he came.

Ares held out against the constraint of his inner muscles for a
half-thrust before giving in. He yelled out hoarsely in Joxer's
ear, and was rewarded with another squeeze as he spilled himself
within Joxer.

He held himself above Joxer and then toppled to his side.

Sated, they lay in silence for long, comfortable moments. And
then Joxer got up the courage to ask: "You're a God, right?"

Ares felt as if he'd been broken from the steamy spell, and he
shifted in the grass, "That's what they tell me."

Joxer winced. Translation: stupid question. "Right, so why..."

Ares waited for him to ask some ridiculously inane question
like, 'Why is the sky blue?' or 'Why does Falafel only make
'hot-dog' buns in sets of eight, when he makes the 'hot-dogs' in
sets of ten?'

But Joxer surprised him with: "Why do you feel so real?"

Ares shifted again, "I'm a manifestation of the beliefs of
mortals, and the natural need for a sentient power to govern the
ebb and flow of war in Greece--"

"No," Joxer stopped him, and then looked apologetic before going
on. "Why do you feel so real to /me/. Nothing has ever felt this
real, and I was wondering if it was because you're a God, or
because you're just you."

Ares stared at him in consternation, his look probably
reflecting his confusion.

Joxer smiled and reached a hand up to shove an inky lock of
Godly hair away from his new lover's face. "Never mind, it's
just you."

Ares' consternation turned to bewildered fascination, and they
stayed looking into each other's eyes until Joxer bent his head
down and brushed his lips across his God's.

Ares flashed them to the Halls of War.

And they did it all over again.

- - -

Hours later, Joxer woke hungry and, not wanting to wake his
lover, searched out the kitchen staff that a palace this big
must have.

- - -

Xena and Gabrielle noticed him missing about ten minutes after
that.

- - -

Having not found any staff at /all/ in the Halls of the War,
Joxer decided to go back and find Ares and ask /him/ for food.
Ares wouldn't begrudge him anything, Joxer was sure. And he was
sure in the new kind of way that meant he was probably right,
and not in the old way that meant he was probably dreaming
again.

Halfway back, he stumbled over the hidden kitchens of the Hall
and, pleased, set upon whatever he could find there.

- - -

Alone and asleep in his bed, Ares stretched an arm out for his
lover.

- - -

All of Olympus sat up a moment later, and stared towards the
Halls of War. And, one by one, flashed to it's kitchens.

Zeus got there just after Ares.

- - -

"He's got to be around here somewhere, Xena. His armor's still
by the pond, and you /know/ he never goes anywhere without that
stuff..."

- - -

"I didn't /know/ it was Ambrosia. Geeze, you ought to label
what's in your larder, Ares..."

Ares looked at his father hopefully, arm hooked around Joxer's
waist.

Zeus shrugged. "He's a God now, like it or not. He belongs on
Olympus."

Joxer blinked, then looked from his lover to the King of the
Gods and offered up a bright smile, "Of course I'll come to
Olympus. There's really no need to beg."

Zeus looked nonplussed for a moment, and then his face became
impassive. "In your mortal life, you've demonstrated a... unique
ability to create your own world and live in it. As a God, you
will be called Fantasia. You'll be the God of Imagination and
Fantasy."

"Fantasia?" Joxer's face screwed up. "That sounds like a woman's
name. Can't I be Fantasius?"

"Please don't argue with me."

"Or Fantasio. Has a nice ring to it."

"We'll just continue to call you Joxer, okay?"

"Fantastico. Strife, what do you think about 'Fantastico'?"

Strife threw his hands up when the host of Olympus turned their
heads to him, "Don't look at /me/, folks. Ah'm on /vacation./"

And then he flashed himself and Cupid back to the House of Love.
Which soon earned its name all over again.

Twice.

Fin

Epilogue (One Week Later, A Little Bar In Corinth):

"He just went missing. We searched all over, and in Thrace, and
heard you two were down here and we were hoping you could help
us look for him." Gabrielle bounced gently, turning concerned
eyes on first Iolaus and then Hercules.

Hercules sighed. "Maybe he went traveling on his /own/ for a
while. You said you'd been fighting the night before."

"But we worked that out! And he left his armor--" Gabrielle was
cut off by a tap to her shoulder, and behind her Hermes floated
on his winged shoes.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I have a message."

Hercules closed his eyes.

"'Ares, God of War, would like for it to be known that he is
happily and irrevocably in love with Joxer, God of Imagination
and Fantasy. Forever and ever.'"

There was more than stunned silence in the room, as the Grecians
fell to Hermes' announcement.

"Joxer's a--" Gabrielle squeaked, and the conversation around
the inn fairly /buzzed/. "--a /God/?!"

For a brief moment the memory of Joxer's fumbling crush
resurfaced in her mind. And then the rest of Hermes' message hit
her.

"In love?!"

Fin Fin Fin

Footnotes: In Greek myth, the hero Herakles actually /did/
defeat a monster called Geryon, who had three heads and three
bodies--I'm guessing they were attached at the waist, and all
three shared a set of legs. I've provided a link below to an
illustration of Hercules' twelve labors, of which the defeat of
Geryon was the ninth. Or the tenth, depending on who you ask.
Another version of the myth, which involves Hercules defeating
Geryon and his two-headed dog Orthrus (whom I read once was a
mate of Cerebrus... 'cause, like? How many poly-headed dogs are
out there to pick from. Poor Cery...) to retrieve Geryon's
Spanish cattle. And in that version, it's the /cattle/ which
have three heads and three bodies, instead of Geryon who in that
version was just a guy.

They have to be attached somewhere, I'm thinking, because
otherwise they'd just have said Hercules fought three dudes for
three cows or something. Not very monstrous.

http://www.uwm.edu/Course/mythology/0900/1524.jpg