HTLJ: Dite and Heph

by Arianna18

With all the worst intentions, Discord and Strife crash Dite and Heph's first anniversary party

* * *

"Iolaus of Thebes…message for Iolaus of Thebes!" Hermes cried out imperiously as he zoomed in from overhead in his most official 'messenger of the gods' voice.

"Hey, Iolaus, Hermes is looking for you!" Hercules called out to his buddy, simultaneously trying to alert his best friend across the crowded market square, while reluctantly waving down Hermes from the upper stratosphere. But his efforts were only meeting with mixed success at best. In the first place, the demigod wasn't having much luck getting his buddy's attention because Iolaus' attention was already fully engaged in his very private conversation with the pretty and vivacious flower-seller, his good friend, Lydia. And, in the second place, Hercules was not at all sure he should attract Hermes' attention to them because, well, simply because any message from the gods was suspect, if not actually dangerous. But, despite his only half-hearted effort to attract the messenger's attention, Hermes spotted Hercules towering over the villagers in the crowded market square and rightly assumed that where there was Hercules, there was likely also Iolaus of Thebes.

Hermes, resplendent in his blindingly pristine white robes and fantastic golden winged sandals, carrying his notable and unforgettable staff which sported live serpent heads, a wreathe of gilded olive leaves around his riotous curls, rotund and as cheerfully self-important as ever, careened in for a landing. One of the more sociable gods, he didn't bother making himself invisible to mortals because he rather enjoyed the stir he caused wherever he went. And today, he was pleased to note, was no exception. People screamed in confusion, leapt in various directions or just plain hit the ground to get out of his way as he blazed in at eye-level…eye-level if you're a ten-year-old child and small for your age, that is.

Having satisfactorily attracted the attention of, well, alright, terrorized, the populace of Thrace, Hermes dropped delicately to the ground, looking around for the recipient of his, by definition, critically important and urgent message. Thanks to his dramatic arrival, Iolaus had actually been distracted from his preoccupation, not to say ongoing flirtation, with the beautiful and very spunky Lydia. Looking around with a bemused expression at all the hysterical screaming, shouting and diving for cover, the warrior spotted Hermes and, assuming it was a message for Hercules, was about to return to the more important business of favourably impressing the current love of his life. Meanwhile, Lydia's face was a picture of amused astonishment as she laughed delightedly at the chaos Hermes had engendered.

"IOLAUS!" Hercules shouted, not wanting to miss the opportunity of attracting his partner's attention during the few seconds when he might actually get it, waved vigorously at him. "The message is for YOU!"

Visibly taken aback by that news, Iolaus dramatically pantomimed, "ME?". When Hercules nodded with a wide smile, the warrior grinned broadly as he pulled down his vest in a dignified manner and turned to see if Lydia was suitably impressed (which she was, to his supreme gratification). Then, and only then, did he start to swagger importantly across the village square toward the most notable people in the village that day, a god and a demigod. After all, not every mortal gets such a publicly delivered, and therefore important and urgent, message straight from the gods.

Hercules rolled his eyes as he turned to greet his cousin. "How're you doing, Hermes?" he asked, trying to look like he actually cared. Hermes, however, well aware of the demigod's views of gods in general, snorted at the display of polite courtesy. Comfortable with one another, neither having any need to impress the other, the cousins laughed good-naturedly together in mutual acknowledgement that feigned interest between them was neither necessary nor credible.

Still, they had to talk about something to fill the seconds before Iolaus arrived.

"Seriously, Hermes, how are you?" Hercules asked, crossing his arms in his usual stance of relaxation, signaling that he had no immediate intention or inclination to toss anyone over a building or knock any nearby heads together

"Oh, you know, busy, busy, busy…there's no end to the rush, especially now with this big celebration underway. Everybody who is anybody is going to be there…it'll be the event of the season," Hermes gabbled on, one eye on Iolaus who was playing his moment to the hilt. "Does he always act that way when he gets a message?" Hermes asked, his expression somewhere between amusement and incredulity.

"Pretty much," Hercules replied with an indulgent grin and gentle nod. "But, then, Iolaus doesn't get a lot of messages, especially from the gods, well, not public or polite ones anyway, so he likes to enjoy the moment."

"Ah," Hermes nodded. Made sense, he thought, preening a little as he reflected that receiving a message from him was indeed a notable event in any mortal's life.

"So, what's this celebration you mentioned all about?" Hercules asked, again not really caring, but it was a topic of conversation to pass the time.

However, Iolaus had arrived and Hermes was all business, bowing formally, then conjuring a truly impressive, engraved in goldleaf on pink silk scroll from the air. Holding it out to the warrior with a flourish and another exceedingly formal bow, he intoned, "Iolaus of Thebes, it is my distinct pleasure to be the bearer of this document to you. I've been instructed to wait for a reply."

A quizzical expression on his face, Iolaus took the delicate document with exaggerated care, being more used to parchment, and fragments or reused scrolls at that. Quirking an eyebrow at Hercules, as much as to ask, 'Do you know anything about this?' and getting a bemused expression and shrug in return which translated into, 'Not a clue,' he proceeded to untie the somewhat ostentatious pink bow and ribbon binding, broke the seal and unrolled the large and elaborate scroll.

Curious, Hercules was watching closely. The fact that the ribbon and scroll were pink was a hint if not an actual clue, and he wondered what mischief his half-sister was up to now…and, more specifically, just what it had to do with Iolaus. He relaxed a little when he saw Iolaus' face light up with a genuine smile of delight as he read the message.

Looking up, his eyes dancing with merriment, Iolaus said gleefully to his best friend, "I've been invited to a party! And, since it says I can bring a guest, I guess you can come, too!"

"A party? What party?" Hercules asked, his gaze shifting to Hermes, wondering if this had anything to do with the 'event of the season' that his cousin had just been talking about. The one where 'everybody who is anybody' was invited. And, if so, how in the name of whoever had Iolaus gotten an invitation? There had to be a catch, and if there was a catch, then there might be a problem. A big problem, in fact, if somebody was either intending to use Iolaus for nefarious purposes, or even if this was just a small effort to embarrass him very publicly. Because, if either was the case, Hercules would not be pleased, not pleased at all.

"An anniversary party," Iolaus was in the process of explaining, not appearing to notice the hesitant uncertainty his partner was feeling, seemingly too caught up in his own sense of excitement. "'Dite and Heph are celebrating their 'first year of bliss together' and I've been invited to attend, as a 'guest of honour', I guess because I was pretty much responsible for bringing them together."

"Oh!" the demigod replied, nonplussed, and then he smiled slowly. This actually sounded legitimate, and besides, 'Dite and Heph both liked Iolaus, so maybe there was nothing to worry about. "Congratulations!" he offered with a good-natured slap on his partner's back, shifting a little to read the scroll over Iolaus' shoulder. "Where and when is the party being held?"

Iolaus, scanning the scroll again, replied, "Two days from now, inside Heph's volcano…where they 'discovered their eternal love for one another'," he quoted, trying not to giggle. It was pretty clear that 'Dite had come up with the wording.

Hermes had been standing more or less patiently, less if one wishes to be precise. After all, he was a self-proclaimed busy, busy, busy little god. Deciding that it was time to break into this delightfully pedestrian dialogue of discovery, he asked archly, "So, may I reply that you are accepting the invitation?"

"Oh yeah," Iolaus said enthusiastically. "I wouldn't miss this party for the world!"

"And, your guest would be…?" Hermes inquired, shifting his gaze between Hercules and Lydia.

Iolaus grinned when he caught the non-verbal suggestion, but shook his head. "Ah, I think when attending a party hosted by gods it's always good to go with someone who won't be overwhelmed by all the other guests. Though Lydia is pretty comfortable around half-gods, she hasn't met any full gods before," he said sagely, then turned impishly to Hercules. "So, big guy, you wanna be my date?"

Hercules snorted, but nodded good-humouredly, chuckling as he replied, "I'd be honoured, Iolaus of Thebes. But, ah…I draw the line at wearing either a formal gown or a cute little cocktail number."

Snickering, Iolaus protested, "No, don't tell me that! You've got such great legs and you hardly ever show them off!"

Hercules took a swipe at him then turned to Hermes, laughing as he said, "Well, I guess you can tell Heph and 'Dite that we'll both be there with bells on."

"Seriously?" squeaked the appalled messenger of the gods, imagining jingle bells wrapped around their necks and waists, tiny little silver bells at wrists and ankles, a dinner bell in Iolaus' hand and Hercules carried a truly impressive kettle bell, clonging it from time to time for effect.

"NO!" exclaimed both heroes in unison, giggling and snickering merrily at the horrified expression on Hermes' face.

"You two are very strange, do you know that?" Hermes asked huffily, preparing to be on his way.

"We get that a lot, actually," Iolaus observed thoughtfully, as Hercules looped an arm around his shoulder and said with a perfectly straight face, "I have no idea what you mean by that!"

The two friends spluttered with laughter at the pained expression on Hermes' face, but then the god, too, relented, giggling at their antics. "Well, you guys'll liven up the party, that's for sure. Given how important we all are, or like to think we are at any rate, you'll bring very welcome comedy relief. See you there!" (Even if they were only a mortal and a demigod, it didn't hurt to let them know he was also one of the 'everybody who is anybody's' who'd been invited to the 'event of the season'.)

With a wave and a bounce, he was up and flying away through the square, delighted by all the attention his departure received…very much like the attention he'd gotten when he arrived, actually. He didn't know why the other gods were always putting mortals down…he thought they were really quite charming, well, in small doses anyway, reflecting with a grin as he glanced back over his shoulder at Iolaus.

The heroes waved good-bye, then Iolaus went back to studying the scroll, grinning from ear to ear. He'd never been the 'guest of honour' at a party before, let alone one hosted by the Goddess of Love, and the God of the Forge, both areas in which he considered himself something of an expert. "Well, this'll be a new experience," he reflected happily, looking up at Hercules.

"Hmm," Hercules said with an expression he hoped looked pleased and eager, but realized he wasn't pulling it off very well when the light died from Iolaus' face and his buddy asked warily, "What?"

"What 'what'?" Hercules asked, straightening and looking innocently around the square, relieved to see that no one had been hurt in the latest excitement of a live low altitude flight demonstration.

"You know what 'what'," Iolaus replied darkly, with painful clarity. "What's with the 'I'm not sure this is such a great idea' look on your face? It's a party, Herc! What could be wrong with that?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Hercules replied, "I'm sure it'll be a perfectly great party, Iolaus."

"But…?" his buddy pushed, scowling.

"But…I'm just wondering who else is likely to be there," Hercules replied, deflated.

Iolaus just gazed at him with the scrunched up expression that said, impatiently, 'Would you get to the point, already?'.

Holding out his arms, palms up in a helpless gesture, Hercules explained, "Well, it's just that Hermes said that 'everybody who is anybody' is going to be there."

"And, your point would be?" Iolaus asked sarcastically.

"My point is…who would you call 'everybody who is anybody' on Olympus? And, do you really want to be at the same party as they are?" Hercules asked, an expression of pained apology on his face.

Iolaus gazed at him blankly for a moment, then, his shoulders slumping, he sighed in despair, "Good point. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Maybe because they aren't your relatives," Hercules groused, sighing heavily in the long-suffering manner he'd acquired over the years whenever the subject of his relatives came up…it was one of his two family related expressions when it came to the relatives on his father's side. The other, of course, being self-righteous, hostile disdain bordering on hatred depending on the specific relative in question. Unless, of course it was Aphrodite, and then he was simply wary, all the time.

"Thank all the gods for that," Iolaus said fervently. "My own relatives are bad enough, but not many of them are actually wacko, self-indulgent, sociopathic psychopaths with short attention spans and absolutely no impulse control."

"Uh huh," Hercules, having nothing to add to the pithily accurate description, looked down at him as he quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms, the non-verbal signal for 'what now?'

"Darn it anyway," Iolaus pouted. Then sighing heavily, looking up with sad puppy-dog eyes at this best friend, he explained wistfully, "For a minute there, I was just thinking it would be a fun party, and well, we get along great with 'Dite and Heph, so I never considered who else would be there. Did you say that Hermes called it the 'event of the season'?"

"That's what he called it," Hercules confirmed with a brief nod of confirmation. "'Everybody who's anybody' is invited."

Iolaus frowned. "I don't get it. I'd assumed it was just going to be a quiet, kind of immediate family affair and it sounded like it would be fun, you know? Seems strange they'd invite me to something being attended by the who's who of Olympus. For that matter, it's weird that they invited me and not you…at least you're related. You sure you really want to go?"

Hercules frowned in concern. Gods, he hated to see that expression of disappointment on his buddy's face, and if anything, hated even more Iolaus' only too willing and ready impulse to relegate himself to someone too inconsequential to be in the same crowd as the Olympians. Gods…they should be so lucky as to have Iolaus deign to join them! Oh, Hercules knew that most of the times the puppy-dog look appeared, Iolaus was putting him on, but this time it looked like his best friend really was disappointed. Damn it anyway. He probably shouldn't have said anything. Why couldn't he just have been happy for his partner and gone along with it all? Why did he always have to look for the 'catch'?

Iolaus was watching the expressions of concern and guilt play across his partner's face and he knew this silent bout of self-flagellation could go on indefinitely if he didn't regain his buddy's attention. "Uh, Greece to Hercules?"

"What? Oh, sorry Iolaus. Look, it really might be a great party. And you are the 'guest of honour' so we could hardly have refused to go anyway, and I think it's great that you are being given the credit you deserve in all this. So, tell you what. Why don't we go, and if it's great, we stay and if it's really, really weird, we leave early?"

"You mean it?" Iolaus asked, one brow arched with evident skepticism. There wasn't much love lost between them and quite a few of the gods and goddesses in the Greek Pantheon.

"Yeah, I mean it," Hercules affirmed, ruffling his friend's hair affectionately.

"Okay," Iolaus grinned, pulling away from the good-natured 'ruffle', but couldn't resist teasing back, "So, you're sure I can't talk you into one of the cute new little Roman numbers…you know, the short, pleated toga that's all the rage? I hear Salmoneus has just gotten in the latest colours."

"Don't push it, Iolaus," Hercules replied sternly.

"I knew it! I knew you'd say that!" Iolaus charged with mock ferocity. "You know, Herc, you are definitely stodgy…no fun at all."

Sighing, the demigod looked up and around the horizon. "I know…it's a cross you bear," he replied, without the least hint of apology.

"Hmmm," Iolaus agreed as he tapped the now re-rolled scroll against his cheek, scowling mildly as he crossed his arms, beginning to chew on his inner lip as he thought about the party.

Still gazing across the square, Hercules asked innocently, "So, how are you going to explain to Lydia that she's not going to be your date at the gods' 'event of the season'?"

Distracted from his thoughts about the party, Iolaus rolled his eyes, mumbling, "Sometimes, sometimes, you are real pain, you know that? What do you think I'm going to tell her? 'Hey, Lydia, my date for the party of the year is gonna be Hercules…can't wait to tell you all about it!' Get serious. I'm going to tell her that your sister is throwing a party and she wants us there in case there's trouble."

Hercules' eyes fell back to Iolaus', caught by the change of tone in his partner's voice and pondered this unexpected change of direction in the conversation. There was none of the light-hearted kidding around tone in Iolaus' voice now. Realizing Iolaus was serious from the thoughtful expression on his partner's face, the demigod frowned as he asked, "What makes you think there's going to be trouble?"

"The other names on the guest list," Iolaus replied as if it should be obvious.

"Right," Hercules nodded thoughtfully. "And, the invitation was addressed to you because…."

"Because we're going in undercover. 'Dite and Heph don't want the others to know they don't trust any of them. After all, it's supposed to be one big happy family, right?"

Hercules nodded again. "You're really not kidding about this, are you?"

His partner sighed as he shook his head. "No, sadly, I'm not. I mean, really, in the normal course of godly behaviour, do you honestly think they'd remember I was even there a year ago? I admit, for a minute there, I thought it might be legit, but it doesn't make any sense to invite a mortal who half of them could care less about, and who more than a few actively don't like, to the 'event of the year', certainly not as a guest of honour. It's too weird, even for Aphrodite. Plus, they have to know I'll bring you, and well, you and Hera, or you and Ares, isn't the kind of chemistry I'd want at any party I was arranging. The worst of it is, the ones on the guest list might not be the only sources of trouble."

Hercules raised an eyebrow, nonverbally encouraging, 'Go on…'

Iolaus sighed again as he shook his head. "There're all the ones who aren't on the guest list."

Hercules nodded once decisively at this astute bit of analyis, impressed as always with Iolaus' lightning quick ability to size up a situation, not to mention his mercurial, bordering on manic, capacity to swing with equanimity from one mood to another. "Yeah," he blew out in a heavy sigh.

They stood there in contemplative silence for a moment, then Hercules observed, "Well, this is shaping up to be a real fun affair."

"Uh huh," replied Iolaus, "can't wait to go."

* * *

Since it was a bit of a hike to Heph's volcano, and they only had two days to get there, which meant they'd have to run flat out without stopping to eat or sleep, a fact which didn't impress Iolaus, they had 'to go' immediately.

As they loped along, they chatted about the one good thing about all this was the fact that Leandra, Iolaus' younger than himself grandmother, lived in the shadow of Heph's volcano and when this was all over they would have a chance to visit her, because well, though he didn't actually say it to Hercules, he knew Herc knew he really loved her a lot, and she seemed to feel the same way about him, and was so proud of him as well. But it was probably best if they did wait until after because she might worry about them or, on the other hand, she might be disappointed about not getting an invitation herself, since she really was the person who had been at the centre of the events that led to 'Dite and Heph discovering their 'mutual passion', and 'soul deep understanding' of one another, to quote 'Dite's words on the invitation, and no way would they want her feelings to be hurt. So yeah, it was best to wait until it was all over in case there really was trouble. But, who knew when it came to the gods and maybe it really was going to be a straight-forward, legitimate, fun party where a great time would be had by all, providing the volcano didn't erupt, of course. But then, they were gods and could probably control it if they wanted to, it would depend on how much fun they were having, assuming that crowd even knew the meaning of the word 'fun'….

Well, actually, it was Iolaus who did the chatting and Hercules nodded, grunted, 'uh huh'd' and 'hmmm'd' in his usual thoughtful, engaged and sensitive fashion to hold up his end of the conversation. Sometimes it seemed that Hercules must believe that he'd only been allotted a specific number of words that he could use during his life and he was afraid to use them all up. So, Hercules saved himself for soulful, passionate speeches about rights, dignity and the need to stand up for what you believe in if the world is ever going to be a better place. And, he also needed to save a few words for his heartfelt, passionate denunciations of the gods' unconscionable disregard for the dignity and rights of mortals and their (the gods', that is) immature, dangerous if not actively malicious behaviour. They were always good speeches, delivered at exactly the right place and time, and he never knew when the need for one might arise, so he hoarded his word allotment, just in case. Sighing to himself, he reflected the chances were good that the need might arise in the next couple of days.

Their other principal topic of conversation on the trip was their speculation about who would or wouldn't be on the guest list and who was most likely to make trouble. Whenever Hercules considered that Heph's mother was very likely to be on the 'everybody who is anybody' list, if not because she was his mother then certainly because she was Queen of the Gods, he felt like turning around to head in the opposite direction. On the who 'was invited' list, the afore-mentioned Hera, and her favourite son, Ares, came out on top of the potential trouble-maker list. On the who 'wasn't invited' list, well, they'd have to get there and see who wasn't invited to decide who were the most likely trouble-makers in that lot.

To keep it light over the dinner hour, even if they weren't actually stopping for dinner, as Iolaus pointed out in case Hercules had missed the fact, not having much of an appetite himself, they speculated about what everyone else would be wearing and just how offended 'Dite was likely to be when she realized they hadn't stopped to pick up something suitably chic and sophisticated but would be wearing their habitual scruffy garb. However, given that she was understanding and forgiving by nature, and once she realized that the invitation had been sent a little too late for them to prepare properly given that it takes mortals and demigods longer to travel than it takes gods, it would likely be okay.

Besides, they hadn't been invited for their sartorial splendor…they were there as the 'muscle', so it didn't really matter what they wore. The only problem that concerned either them, really, was just how effective their 'muscle' would be given that every single one of the other guests, not to mention all the rest of the gods and goddesses who hadn't been invited, could blow them away with scarcely any thought or effort at all, absentmentedly or by mistake, let alone with active intent to kill or maim. They admitted quite frankly to one another that it didn't make a whole lot of sense, but then, they were talking about 'Dite after all.

'Nuff said.

To give Hercules time to ponder the words of the speech he quite possibly might have to make, Iolaus made sure that he spent a good deal of time whistling, humming or singing which required no input from Hercules at all.

So, the journey passed quickly in its usual comfortable, comradely fashion given that the two heroes had known each other for almost the whole of their lives and were practically brothers after all in everything but blood, appearance or personality. In all honesty, they both well knew that neither one of them ever really had to talk at all, ever, to understand the other perfectly. But the chatter was sociable and passed the time as well as proved that they were in good enough shape to run flat out for forty-eight hours without breaking a sweat and still be able to carry on a normal conversation without getting breathless. In the most secret, innermost part of Iolaus' soul, it was especially important to him to demonstrate that fact. After all, he was only mortal and he worried sometimes, if he couldn't constantly prove himself equal to the challenge, that Hercules would eventually leave him in the dust, which accounted for the fact that Iolaus always did most of the talking.

Finally, knowing that the party must already have started some time ago, given that Helios had long earlier put the chariot away for the night, they spotted Heph's volcano by its telltale wisp of perpetual fiery smoke. Gods, it would be getting on to midnight before they finally arrived, so they picked up the pace a little to ensure they wouldn't be too terribly fashionably late.

Besides, they were curious to see who hadn't been invited.

Moments later, despite having been running for more than forty-eight hours non-stop, they arrived at the entrance to Heph's caverns looking as fresh as the second they had started out. As they entered the first cavern, Iolaus waved good-naturedly at the sleek bronze lion that stood guard at the portal. The cat dutifully snarled back for dramatic effect, trying not to be embarrassed about the indestructible leash Heph had affixed to its collar to keep it from actually attacking the guests. Hercules quirked a brow in amusement and followed his buddy through the confusing warren of passages, amazed as always that Iolaus could find his way around anywhere.

Gods, Hercules reflected, there were days when the demigod really wished he had a hunter's instinct. There were a great many times when the hunter's skills were far more vital and useful than his inordinate strength. But, nobody could pull up a tree by its roots, hurl a six-ton boulder or knock down a giant with the same ease he could, and there were a good many times when both he and Iolaus were grateful for his divine heritage. It was the seamless blending of their disparate skills that was one corner of the foundation of their friendship, partnership and undefeated hero status.

That, and the fact that they could fight better than anyone else.

They heard voices raised in laughter, cynical and otherwise, before they came to the hall where the celebrations were being held. Iolaus perked up, his step almost jaunty as they got closer to the festivities. Hercules grinned indulgently thinking that even though they both knew there was probably something fishy about all of this, his buddy always enjoyed a party and if anyone was likely to have a good time that evening, it would be Iolaus. Shimmying in time to the music as they moved along the last corridor, Iolaus flicked a glance over his shoulder at his buddy and grinned.

"What can I say?" he asked rhetorically. "I'm a party animal!"

"Uh huh," Hercules replied, his eyes dancing with amusement, as he paced along in his usual loose-limbed manner.

'Dite, having realized for herself that she probably hadn't given her favourite heroes enough time to shop, had been keeping a lookout for them. Before they could actually enter the hall, she materialized in front of them in shower of pink spangles and tiny flickering lights.

Although she'd been expecting it, her face still scrunched up into an expression of acute dismay when she saw what they were wearing. "Oh no, no no no, that won't do at all," she reflected, shaking her head, "much too, oh I don't know, 'impoverished peasant' don't you think? And that look hasn't been in style for eons. I know, how about this!"

Waving her hand with a grin of impish amusement, she redressed the brothers of the heart in lookalike zen-master kimonos made of luxuriously draped silk, with brightly woven patterns of green and blue dragons on a field of gold. The rich garments were full sleeved, and gaped casually open at the chest, their waists tightly cinched with broad gold and purple bands of silk. The ensembles were accessorized by emerald and sapphire rings, a finely wrought etched golden earring for Iolaus, and black soft suede sandals.

Iolaus gave his best friend an appraising look, as he said judiciously, "Now THAT'S you, really you, Hercules. And, best of all, the outfit shows off your pretty ankles." Regrettably, he couldn't stop snickering so the message was a little garbled.

Hercules dead-panned him, then rolled his eyes as he turned to Aphrodite, protesting, "You can't be serious."

"Well, actually, I wasn't…but, you know, the look really works!" she chirped happily, taking them each by an arm to personally escort them into the party.

Hercules dragged his feet, exerting all of his strength to resist being humiliated by being seen alive, let alone dead, in that get-up.

But, Iolaus was laughing so exuberantly in obvious enjoyment of the moment that the demigod finally relented. He didn't have the heart to make a fuss when his buddy was having such a good time at his expense.

Besides, he reflected to himself, Iolaus actually looked good in the outfit and he secretly suspected that he did as well. The colours were right and the clothing showed off their attributes to fine effect.

'Dite, who knew her half-brother almost as well as Iolaus did, and could read his expressions as well as could everyone else since he was fairly transparent, winked at him and giggled, glad that he was going along with the spirit of fun.

It was then that the heroes both realized that they might have been wrong about their take on the party. Maybe 'Dite didn't expect trouble after all. Maybe Iolaus really was the guest of honour. Maybe they were just here to have fun and there was nothing more to it than that.

Yeah, and pigs can fly.

But, to be fair, 'Dite at least seemed oblivious to the fact that trouble was virtually a foregone conclusion.

After all, they were there and, for some reason neither of them had ever been able to figure out, wherever they went, trouble was soon to follow.

So, from the perspective of the 'good news', it was with delighted surprise that they saw who else had been invited as a guest of honour, because it meant that 'Dite and Heph had really been quite sincere, and that from their perspective at least, this truly was a celebration of their first anniversary together.

From the perspective of the 'bad news', though, it meant they'd have to take extra special care to make sure the other guest didn't get hurt when trouble erupted, as it inevitably would.

While Hercules had difficulty hiding his thoughts and feelings, Iolaus was a master of subterfuge. So, with an air of unbridled surprise and pleasure masking his concern, he moved to sweep his co-guest of honour into an enthusiastic, genuinely affectionate embrace as he called out, "Leandra! Gods, it's so great to see you!"

* * *

No effort had been spared to make the party a memorable occasion. The normally rather dim and gray cavern carved from the rock of the volcano, was brightly lit with thousands of pink candles in black iron scrolled sconces and lamps, while pink streamers and balloons floated from the ceiling. There were countless black filigreed wrought iron tables covered in pink silk, and loaded with every possible delicacy to tempt even the most jaded of appetites. Bowls of pink punch anchored each of the tables, filled when required from a massive fountain in the centre of the hall, glistening drops of pink punch erupting high into the distant reaches of the cavern from the elaborately tiered black iron base. Pink woven carpets covered the stone floors, the huge space broken up by deceptively delicate iron couches covered with plump, down filled pink cushions.

And, floating in midair was a massive pink banner with black lettering, proclaiming, "Happy Anniversary, Lover!"

Leandra had welcomed Iolaus in the way someone sinking for the last time beneath the waves grabs onto a life preserver. Most of the other guests seemed to have arrived, and though some attempted to be charming, like Zeus who always appreciated a lovely lady, and Hades and Persephone, one with a cool, stiff, formality and the other with genuine warmth, most chose not to notice the presence of a mere mortal at such a prestigious affair. So, she'd been uncomfortable and lonely, not to say nervous, as she'd waited for her grandson and his best friend to arrive. To distract her, Iolaus spent a few moments admiring the decorations, observing that Aphrodite and Hephaestus had found a way to blend their respective styles in an artful, attractive, even tasteful, manner.

Her eyes wide, Leandra nodded and kept watch on the rest of the guests. So far at least, she'd not had the best of experiences with gods and tended to be wary of them. 'Dite had only gotten her there by promising that Iolaus would be coming. Deciding a relaxing drink was in order, Iolaus drew his grandmother toward one of the punch bowls and ladled up three servings of the effervescent brew, handing one to his grandmother and one to Hercules, who was showing distinct reluctance to mingle on his own.

Taking a small sip, Leandra looked up with a smile of surprise. "Why…it's delicious!" she proclaimed.

"Nothing but the best for the gods," Iolaus clicked goblets with her, saluted his buddy, then took a healthy swig from his own delicate crystal goblet, as he turned to sample some of the exotic offerings of food. They'd missed dinner after all…not to mention breakfast, lunch and all the meals the day before as well. Appreciatively stuffing something that looked like mushroom puffs into his mouth, he scanned the room before turning back to Leandra.

Hercules frowned thoughtfully at the beverage, wondering if anything here was actually safe to eat or drink, but then shrugged and lifted it to his lips. Quirking a surprised brow, he reflected to himself that Leandra had been right. Not at all sweet or cloying, it was light, tart and amazingly refreshing. Realizing how thirsty he was after their forty-eight hour jog, he finished off the remaining punch in his goblet then helped himself to more.

"I have to ask," intruded a low, seductive voice, "what a lovely lady like you is doing with these two reprobates?"

Iolaus looked up to see Ares bending low over his grandmother's hand and rolled his eyes. The God of War was decked out in his formal uniform of diamond studded black leather, his black hair flowing in waves almost to his shoulders, and his beard and mustache looked especially dashing. As he lifted his head, the warrior could see that the god's eyes were sparkling with charm and good humour, so he relaxed a fraction. 'Dite had probably told him to behave himself or she'd throw him out.

"Ares," Iolaus smiled brightly, "allow me to make the introductions. I believe you may remember my father, Skouros, one of your generals?"

Ares cocked his head a little, wondering at the warm tone Iolaus was using to refer to his father, knowing full well there'd been little love lost between the two. He nodded, giving nothing away, as he replied, "Of course, a courageous man and proud. I miss him."

"I'm not surprised the two of you got along," Iolaus said mildly, only the slightest glint of steel in his eyes, until they softened as he turned to Leandra with a gentle smile. "Well, I'm proud and pleased to introduce you to Leandra, mother of Skouros, and my much loved grandmother."

"Your…grandmother?" Ares replied, obviously taken by surprise. It seemed the whole story of how 'Dite and Heph had gotten together was not widely known. Smiling broadly as he looked between Iolaus and Leandra, he observed, "But, you're so much older, Iolaus…."

"Hmm, I know," the warrior grinned, then relented. "My grandmother was one of the villagers held in thrall for fifty years when Cillabos was punished by Hephaestus."

"Ah," Ares replied, turning back to Leandra. "Well, then this is a privilege as well as pleasure, my lady. As I just said, I remember your son well. He was a fine leader, one of my best generals, brilliant when it came to strategy and a fearless warrior."

Unbidden tears had come to Leandra's eyes as she lifted a hand to her trembling lips. "You knew my son…remember him? I…the last time I saw him, he was only three years old. But, Iolaus told me he'd died bravely, and that I'd have been proud of him."

Ares bowed his head for a moment, thoughtfully, and when he looked up again, there was a look of unexpected kindness and warmth within his eyes. Nodding, he replied, "Iolaus told you the truth. Your son and grandson share many of the same fine qualities, though there's no doubt, they are very different in other ways. If I might be so bold, perhaps you'd allow me a dance, and I could tell you a little about Skouros?"

"Oh, yes, please," Leandra agreed gratefully, holding out her goblet with some confusion. Ares took it from her gallantly, setting it on a side table. He spared a glance at Iolaus as he turned, and the two men exchanged infinitesimal nods of collusion, before he turned back to Leandra, drawing her arm through his and leading her to the dance floor. Treating her like a queen.

Hercules leaned over to murmur, "Are you sure she's safe with him?"

Iolaus laughed shortly as he replied, "No…but, I am sure he can tell her things she needs to hear about her son. It'll be all right. Ares seems to be on good behaviour tonight."

'Hmmm," was all the demigod replied, taking another sip from his goblet.

The two heroes gazed around the hall, silently noting who was present. Hera was on the far side of the room, as cold and imperious as ever, exchanging idle conversation with Demeter. Zeus was off in a corner, laughing riotously over something either Apollo or Cupid had just said. Hades and Persephone were dancing, as were Aphrodite and Hermes. Heph was checking out the food, while Athena and Artemis posed by the fountain, as beautiful as nymphs in their formal gowns, with their uncle, Poseidon.

Not a large gathering, but definitely the 'everybody who was anybody' in the Pantheon.

"Strife," Hercules observed.

"Discord," Iolaus added with a thoughtful nod, taking a sip of punch.

Well, now they knew who headed their who 'wasn't invited' list of possible trouble-makers.

Everyone at the party seemed to be in good spirits, and they really began to wonder if perhaps it was simply going to be a pleasant evening after all. Providing Hercules and Hera remained in opposite corners, and Ares continued with his devastatingly dashing and charming interpretation of his God of War persona, none of the guests present seemed likely to start a fight.

"Have you ever noticed there aren't an equal number of men and women in power positions on Olympus?" Iolaus mused, reflecting on the surfeit of women in the room.

"Uh huh," replied Hercules. "Probably accounts for the fact that so many of them can't seem to keep their sleazy hands off mortal women…."

Iolaus cut in before his buddy could get well and truly launched into one of his two best speeches. "True, which also accounts for the fact of how you are lucky enough to have a mother as lovely and sweet as Alcmene. Look, I know it's never been easy to be the Son of Zeus, but, just for tonight, could we go with the 'I wouldn't even be alive if Zeus hadn't fallen for my mother' interpretation of history and just be grateful that you are also the Son of Alcmene?"

The demigod could scarcely say anything negative about his mother, and he was glad to be alive, so he merely nodded with a non-committal grunt and sipped his drink.

Iolaus chuckled, beginning to relax, getting into the spirit of maybe being a guest of honour for real. Hercules saw him gazing speculatively at the goddesses by the fountain and thought a little judicious cautioning might be in order. "Virgin goddesses, Iolaus…dangerous territory. Not to mention their fondness for gold apples."

His buddy snorted as he looked up with an anguished expression. "Hercules, have I ever told you what a wet blanket you are? Gods, do you know how to wreck a mood or what?"

The taller hero shrugged carelessly. "Well, if you don't mind being turned into a frog, I don't mind having to carry you around and protect you for the rest of your likely to be much 'shorter' life."

"Right," sighed the warrior, turning to refill his goblet. Damn, and he'd really felt like dancing! Turning, he again scanned the room. 'Well,' he thought, 'Demeter is no virgin goddess…" and going boldly where angels wouldn't dare to tread, he crossed the room intent upon finding a dance partner.

Hercules, brows raised in amusement, watched him go and wondered how his austere and definitely prissy aunt would react to such a bold mortal.

The senior goddesses had arrived at the party early, one ostensibly because it was a special day for one of her sons, and the other to oversee the choice of delicacies for the tables. Both had actually come out of catty curiousity to see how Aphrodite would cope with turning a dreary volcanic mountain into a festive place of light and airy amusement. Grudgingly, they'd had to concede she'd achieved a miracle.

So, to dim the pain of having to be at least courteous if not actually pleasant, they'd been imbibing for some time, the light punch going down very smoothly, no doubt evaporating from their glasses in the hot dry volcanic air, which accounted for why the crystal vessels needed such frequent refilling. Looking up, Hera was the first to notice the golden, exotically dressed, warrior approaching them. She arched an appraising brow and unconsciously licked her lips as she admired his appearance. 'Perhaps I've always misjudged him,' she thought to herself. 'He's really quite an attractive little mortal, an Adonis in his own way.'

"Ladies," Iolaus bowed as he gave them one of his patented bright, charming smiles. "May I say that you're both looking devastatingly lovely this evening…"

"Want to dance?" Demeter cut him off, and Iolaus looked up, surprised…and a little alarmed at the hot look of interest in her eyes as they swept him from head to toe, lingering a little on his chest.

Before he could reply, Hera took his arm possessively and practically dragged him toward the dance floor. "I saw him first," she said with all the hauteur of her position as Queen.

"Bitch," Demeter replied, burying her face back into her goblet of punch.

Speechless, Iolaus found himself whisked into a spirited polka, Hera very clearly taking to the extreme the opportunity of having to be held tight as they spun around. "Oommphh," he mumbled as her vice-like arms locked around his neck and she pressed in hard before taking the lead to bounce him around the room.

Catching a glimpse of Hercules as they whirled by, Iolaus shot off a look that cried, 'Help me!'

But, the demigod was gazing at his partner with a gaping mouth, not sure whether to be appalled or fall over on the floor laughing at the incredible sight. Shaking his head, he took a healthy swallow of the punch unaware that he was also about to have a twilight zone moment.

"Herculesss," crooned a voice in his ear. "You're looking unusually…appealing this evening."

Spluttering a little, the demigod looked up to see his two virgin goddess half-sisters leering at him with unmistakable looks of invitation in their eyes. Coughing, he took a half step backward but found himself boxed in by the wall, suddenly very nervous, feeling a little hunted. "Artemis," he acknowledged, clearing his throat, "Athena…nice to see you."

"Oh, you can do better than that," Athena drawled moving closer to lean into his arm and draw a finger down his chest.

"Uh…well, I…that is…nice party, don't you think?" he stammered, blushing furiously.

"Very nice," Artemis agreed, insinuating herself between his body and his other arm. "It's sooo nice to see you. We don't spend nearly enough time together."

"Well, if you didn't spend so much time in the forest like a common woodsprite, maybe you would see more of other people," Athena observed scathingly.

"Oh yeah, well at least the animals breathe…unlike those dusty scrolls you surround yourself with. Besides, Hercules likes the woods, and all the little animals, don't you, Hercules?" Artemis sniped back before turning her rapturous attention back to the demigod.

"Uh, shure…but, s'Iolaus who's more the woodsman," Hercules replied desperately as he felt her hand moving down his back, unrepentingly throwing his friend to the she-wolf.

Distracted, as he'd hoped she'd be, Artemis looked out and around the floor, a slightly feral smile curving her lips when she spotted the hapless hunter. "Ah, yes, Iolaus…one of my favourites. I like to watch him move…through the forest."

"Righ'," agreed Hercules. "He c'n move as schhilent, um, quiet s'a ghost…quite a lil sneak, my teeny frien'."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Hercules gulped, his eyes widening. Where in Tarturus had that come from? Taking a deep breath, he looked around the cavern, and found he had to narrow his eyes to keep it from seeming to blur and tilt. He tried to extricate himself from his sisters, but wasn't having a great deal of success. 'Somethin's no' righ' herrre,' he thought to himself, then very nearly giggled at the ridiculousness of it all.

But, 'Dite arrived at that moment, a look of puritan contempt on her face as she glared at her two sisters. "Acting like trollops, the both of you. Leave him alone…he's your brother for pity's sake!"

"Oh, 'Dite, loosen up a little," Athena scoffed, rolling her eyes with a long suffering look.

"I said, 'get your hands off him!'" a suddenly righteous goddess of love lectured as she reached out and physically hauled her two sisters away from the demigod, much to his relief. Except…Aphrodite was usually the one teasing him so unmercifully…and now she was acting like the town matron in charge of morals. Very strange.

"I…uh…I tink I should sshhpeak to Iolaus abou' somethin'," Hercules mumbled, intending to move around the small group between him and the dance floor, but found he had to hold onto the table beside him to keep from falling on his face. Shaking his head, he tried to clear it, but then wondered what he was worrying about. It was a great party. Everyone was so friendly, having such a good time. Shrugging his massive shoulders, he plunged his goblet into the punch bowl. "Goo' punch," he slurred to Aphrodite. "Grea' party, toooo."

"Need any help here, Aphrodite?" a very proper Apollo asked as he moved sedately to his sister's side.

"These two are a disgrace!" observed 'Dite, shaking her head at her sisters. "I have no idea of what's gotten into them. And, well, Hercules seems to have turned into a lush when we weren't looking."

"Poor guy," Cupid observed, sympathetically, "the pressure of being a hero must have gotten to him. I always knew it would be too much and he'd crack up some day. It's sad, really…tragic."

"Naw a lushhh," Hercules protested, swaying a little and having to lean against the wall behind him for support. "Naw…trag-hic." Overcome by hiccups, he slid to the floor, a bemused look of confusion on his face.

"Disgusting," sighed Aphrodite, shaking her head with benign contempt.

"Hey, babe, what's cookin?" Heph asked exuberantly as he practically skipped over to his wife's side, as lightly as his lame leg would allow, and whacked his bride lovingly on the butt. "Wanna dance, cupcake?"

"I beg your pardon?" Aphrodite reared back, affronted by such plebian behaviour.

The sound of a loud slap cracked over the music, drawing all eyes to Hades who was holding a hand to his cheek, a tearful look on his face as he gazed with soulful eyes at his quite evidently contemptuous wife, Persephone. The usually demure and sweet goddess looked more like one of the Furies, her eyes blazing with anger. "I am so tired of your constant fawning over me, Hades…don't you have any work to do?"

"Work?" Hades asked confused. "What work? It's not like they're in a hurry to go somewhere…they're all dead. So what if the paperwork piles up?"

"Sometimes, Hades, sometimes I wish you could at least pretend to be conscientious about your job. If you're not careful, Zeus will take over," she replied, gazing at her fingernails with a frown.

Meanwhile, Ares had drawn Leandra close to Iolaus and Hera on the dance floor. Nervously, the God of War whispered to the blond warrior, "Do you think you should tell a joke or sing, Iolaus? People seem like they're angry or something…I'm afraid a fight might start."

Startled, Iolaus looked up into the black eyes of the powerful god, and his mouth gaped at the look of genuine panic in Ares' eyes. Ares? Afraid of a fight?

"Maybe we should just go somewhere more private," Hera whispered into Iolaus' ear, one of her hands delicately playing with his earring.

Pushing her hand away, Iolaus backed up, "Uh, no, thanks…I'm the guest of honour, so I should stay."

"Hmmm, too bad. Maybe later?" she suggested hopefully, a seductive smile playing about her lips.

His mouth gaping as he backed away a little further just to be on the safe side, his eyes wide with incredulity, Iolaus just nodded slowly as he said, "May-be…let's not think about that right now."

He frowned thoughtfully as he looked from the Queen of the Gods to Ares. First, Demeter had been as forward as one of 'Dite's priestesses, then Hera had decided she wanted to cuddle with a mortal she more frequently tried to kill and now Ares was afraid of a fight breaking out. Persephone had turned into a harridan and Hades looked positively 'whipped. Sighing, he figured the trouble they had anticipated had started, but so far, it wasn't taking any of the usual forms.

Time to regroup with Hercules and figure out what was going on.

Turning to Ares, he took the God's arm with one hand and Leandra's with the other, and began to draw them toward where he'd last seen Hercules. But, when he looked toward the spot where the demigod had last been, there was no sign of him…though it looked like there'd been a falling out between Artemis and Athena. Startled, worried that Hercules had seemed to have disappeared, Iolaus stopped, looking quickly around the hall, a slightly harried look on his face. Fine time for his buddy to decide he didn't want to be at this little family get-together after all!

'Damn it,' Iolaus thought, 'I should have known better than to leave him alone here of all places…he'd find a nest of vipers more appealing!'

"I think that's him over there," Ares pointed helpfully, correctly assuming that Iolaus was scanning the cavern for Hercules, "on the floor…slumped against the wall."

"What?" demanded Iolaus, his gaze following Ares' gesture, and sure enough, there was Hercules, slumped ignominiously on the floor, barely propped up by the wall, with a horde of relatives standing around him, all of them appearing to be completely indifferent to his plight. Given that Hercules wasn't giving to lying about on the floor during festive occasions, Iolaus immediately assumed the worst.

*"Herc!" he yelled in alarm as he bounded across the dance floor. Heedlessly pushing aside the divinities between him and his stricken friend, Iolaus fell to his knees by his buddy, grabbing one arm in dire concern as he asked anxiously, "Hercules? What happened?"

Looking a little dazed, Hercules looked up at him blearily, raising a hand with a pointed finger as if he was counting how many Iolaii he could see. "S'a goo' party," the demigod observed, grinning at all three of them. "Fun."

Frowning, Iolaus' eyes narrowed. "You're drunk," he observed, puzzled. Hercules never got drunk. He hated losing control too much to ever risk drinking too much.

Hercules seemed to ponder Iolaus' assessment solemnly for a moment, then nodded sagely, "Yyyupppp," he agreed blearily, not much concerned by it. Odd sensation though, not all that pleasant. But, the stone floor of the cavern was cool and surprisingly comfortable. Not all that much different from the ground they usually slept on. Frowning, he thought he should probably remember to share that observation with Iolaus at the appropriate moment…like when he could string more than a couple of words together at one time.

Shaking his head, Iolaus realized that something was very wrong…which meant someone must have used him to get to Hercules. Not a happy thought, that. Here, he'd been selfishly hoping he was finally going to be the 'guest of honour' at a great party, and it turned out he was just being used again, too dumb to figure it out before it was too late. And, now, his buddy was paying the price. Well, they wouldn't get away with it! Whoever 'they' were, that is…which wasn't immediately clear.

Angry, unconcerned about the propriety of yelling at gods and goddesses, Iolaus rose slowly, almost menacingly to his feet as he turned on them. "Which one of you drugged him? So help me, if you've hurt him…."

"Don't be ridiculous, Iolaus," Aphrodite cut in, airily waving off his concerns, her lip curled in distaste as she gazed down at her brother. "He's just drunk…what a lush. I wish just one member of my family would show a little decorum once in a while. Is that too much to ask?"

By that point, Artemis had draped herself over the hunter and was whispering something in his ear that was making him blush, and then he jumped with a little 'yip' as he moved away from Athena, one hand rubbing his haunch. "Behave yourselves," he ordered, momentarily distracted from the threat to his buddy. Gods, what was going on here?

"That's just what I've been telling them to do," 'Dite exclaimed, feeling vindicated.

"Really?" Iolaus asked, looking thoroughly confused. Frowning, he looked around at all of the gods and goddesses assembled in the cavern. Ares had joined Zeus in a game of hopscotch. Heph and Hades were jitterbugging on the dance floor to waltz music, Hermes and Hera were ensconced in a dim corner, Artemis and Athena were squaring up for a cat fight, Persephone was lecturing her mother about something and Demeter looked positively tearful. 'Dite was pinning a scarf around her throat to cover her décolletage, and Apollo and Cupid were holding a very erudite philosophical conversation on the meaning of 'honour'. Poseidon had decided to go wading in the fountain.

Herc was still hiccuping.

His gaze came to rest on Leandra who was staring at him, her eyes wide, her head shaking from side to side. "Are they all mad?" she asked quietly.

"Well, yes," Iolaus replied, with a short nod of general affirmation, "but this is more than usually odd, even for them. Something's very wrong here."

* * *

High-pitched, spiteful laughter suddenly filled the hall as Strife materialized by the fountain, poised like a prize-fighter, fists up. "Punch, anyone?" he asked hysterically, then doubled over in a fit of giggles.

Discord flashed in beside him, threw him a look of disdain, but smiled broadly as she gazed around the room, her arms crossing, one hand coming up to tap a finger on her chin. "I love it when a plan comes together," she purred, her narrow beady eyes bright with victory.

'Why am I not surprised?' Iolaus asked himself with a sigh. He almost turned to Herc, to share that special moment of knowing they'd been right, but remembered that Hercules was having trouble focusing, and it was probably best to leave him be. So long as he kept up his imitation of a doorstop and stayed out of the way, it was unlikely he'd attract attention, and that meant he was safe for the time being. He might wake up with a hangover in the morning, but a new experience wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

'So, it's up to me to sort this out,' Iolaus realized, nodding determinedly to himself, slipping from 'party-animal' to 'hero' without even blinking as he pushed past the gods and goddesses who surrounded him, putting himself between the intruders and Leandra. "What plan? What have you done?" he demanded, wondering if it was too soon for the trace of alarm to be echoing in his voice.

"Why, just our little plan to become the new King and Queen of Olympus," Strife explained grandly as he slouched over to droop a proprietary arm around Discord's shoulders. She shrugged him off and slapped him away. "In your dreams," she snarled. "Co-rulers, fine…but be YOUR Queen. Yuck!"

"Whatever," Strife replied haughtily as he waved his arms expansively. "I'll have my pick of beautiful babes once I'm in charge. Women all love power…they'll be falling all over me."

"Maybe if you make them all blind and deaf," Discord replied, bored with the conversation.

Watching them, Iolaus wondered how to go about getting them to tell him what they'd done. But, then, with a sigh, he realized it probably wouldn't be all that difficult. They both liked to gloat too much to hold back the gory details. "Well, I have to hand it to the two of you…you seem to have pulled off a coup here. How did you do it?" he asked, injecting a tone of bitterness, knowing they'd both expect it. He turned his gaze to Strife, figuring the sneaky, slimy creature was the more likely one to blurt out the information he needed.

True to form, Strife was only too delighted to brag about their combined brilliance. "We spiked the punch," he replied with a tone of immense satisfaction as he pantomimed boxing an invisible foe.

"The punch?" Iolaus repeated, puzzled. Both he and Leandra had had some when they'd first arrived, but so far at least, he didn't think it was affecting them. Looking around briefly at the others, he wondered if he'd know if it was affecting him…they all certainly seemed oblivious to the fact that their behaviour had gone 'way past the point of being merely bizarre. But, so far at least, Leandra seemed normal enough.

"Uh huh, with a special little potion we cooked up that'll leave 'em dying for more," Strife elaborated, then broke into giggles. "Dying for more…get it?"

Discord gave him a look that would have frozen fire and sighed. "You are so juvenile," she jeered, curling her lip and rolling her eyes.

But, Iolaus had 'gotten it'. Suddenly, it wasn't the least bit amusing anymore as the fact that the fun and games were really over crashed upon him. Stunned, sick, he whirled and looked at Hercules who lay grinning inanely back at him through the forest of legs that surrounded him.

"Dying?" he whispered, shaking his head in unconscious denial. Herc was indestructible…everyone knew that. Though Iolaus always pretended to himself that his buddy needed him to take care of him, watch his back, the warrior had never really ever thought that it could ever come to this. Not Hercules!

"Uh…yeah!" crowed Strife, swaggering up beside the hunter. "You see, first they lose their powers, and then it makes 'em behave in a way that is directly opposite their normal inclinations as it pickles their little brains. Pretty soon now, they should all start keeling over, dead to the world if not actually dead. By morning though, well, why can I say? They'll all be toast."

"Oh, gods," Iolaus murmured, appalled. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. If anybody got hurt, it was almost always him, the vulnerable mortal, not the demigod with the strength of a hundred men and the capacity to fight off even the common cold.

"Uh huh, gods," Strife snorted with satisfaction. "And goddesses…all of 'em who were having such a wonderful time. Teach them not to invite us to their perfect little party."

"It only affects gods and goddesses?" Iolaus mused distractedly, trying to concentrate on what Strife had just said. There had to be something he could do…there had to be. Gods, he couldn't just let Herc die! Or, maybe, he thought with a spark of hope, maybe Herc would be okay…he wasn't a full god, after all.

"That's right," Discord confirmed, eying him with cruel delight, able to guess what he was thinking. "But don't think that'll help your goody little two sandaled friend over there on the floor. In this case, he qualifies for the club."

"Yep," sighed Strife with badly feigned sorrow, unable to extinguish the gloating light in his eyes. "Let me be the first to offer my sincerest condolences on the loss of your best friend, partner, soul brother, life long companion…."

Rage flared then in Iolaus' soul, a dark, all-consuming, unbridled fury fueled by fear and despair, helplessness and a sick hopeless horror of what was happening, blinding him to the risks to himself, not that he gave them much passing thought at the best of times. Wheeling, he lunged toward Strife, grabbing him by the throat, as he cried, "You worthless, malicious, spiteful WORM!"

Shrieking with a voice high and thin as it squeaked through the throat that Iolaus was squeezing in fury, "GET OFF ME!", Strife pulled at the hunter's clutching fingers, shocked when he couldn't peel them from his throat.

Far from wanting to help her partner in crime, Discord watched the attack with evident amusement thinking Olympus didn't really need two rulers anyway. The other deities in the room were standing stunned in various stages of incomprehension as they tried to assimilate what they'd just heard. But, the poison was clouding their minds, eroding what little attention span they had at the best of times, distracting them, feeding their uncharacteristic behaviours and keeping them from being able to focus or think things through. Indeed, their capacity to pay attention was so limited by the foul poison that the game of hopscotch was back on, and Artemis and Athena were pulling at each others' hair, in retaliation for insults neither could even remember.

Strife was an interesting shade of blue, almost indigo actually, when Iolaus regained some semblence of sanity and released his grip, backhanding the god, only to startle himself right out of blind fury into dazed wonder when Strife flew across the great hall to crash into the wall, slumping stunned onto the floor.

"Well, that was different," Discord observed with a frown. "You shouldn't be able to do that."

"I know," Iolaus replied, looking down at his hand, flexing his fingers and then looking back across the wide space at the sprawled god.

"Did you have any of the punch?" she wondered, a speculative look in her eyes as her eyes roamed his body. 'Now, if he'd just be a little more reasonable, he wouldn't make a bad king,' she thought before she remembered with a shudder the humiliating experience of having been a giant chicken.

"What?" Iolaus asked, confused, not having been listening to her. Nothing made any sense. It was as if the whole world had turned upside down. But, mostly, he couldn't get past the fact that Hercules was dying and he didn't have a clue how to help him. He felt a bubble of panic in his chest. This couldn't be happening! It was supposed to have been a party…gods…they'd known there could be trouble, but….

His eyes drifted back to gaze helplessly at his friend, who was waving at him with waggling fingers. But, they'd never expected anything like this.

But, then, who would have expected it? It was incredible, inconceivable…untenable.

'Dite and Apollo were trying to pull the screaming harridans apart while Cupid delivered a mini-lecture on decorum and ladylike behaviour. Iolaus shook off the feeling of having been swept through a whirling vortex into another reality, and then paused a moment, trying to remember if he'd seen any whirling lights lately, felt any irresistible force drawing him into an alternate reality.

Nah, nothing. This was his reality and he was stuck with it. So, he'd better find out more about it.

Turning on Discord, he demanded tightly, "What kind of poison did you use? What could you use that would have any effect on the gods…this isn't anything like what Hind's blood does, and you didn't stab anyone, anyway."

Giving him a winning smile, she bowed mockingly, as she replied, "Well, you're close, but no cigar."

"I'm not in the mood for guessing games. What did you give them?" he demanded, stalking forwards.

"Nothing all that exotic, actually. It occurred to me that a potion made from crushed horn of Hind might be just as deadly as their blood. I found out wonder boy over there had cached a horn from the herd Zeus zapped, keeping it as a kind of souvenir of the good old days, I guess. Strife likes to fantasize a lot and in his case, props help. Anyway, I stole it from him and ground it up, fed it to one of those irritating immortal larks that sing incessantly on Olympus to see what effect it would have. Stupid bird…it lost its voice, seemed to think it was a falcon and started diving for prey." Discord snickered at the memory. "Anyway, not much longer it fell out of the sky, and panted away unconscious before giving up the ghost just as the sun came up. Unfortunately, Strife caught me, and demanded in on the game." Casting a withering look at her spiteful partner in crime, she went on, "He threatened to tell Ares if I didn't let him in on the deal."

Iolaus swallowed heavily, guilt washing over him, not really caring about what they'd used for poison. It didn't matter…what mattered was that Herc was dying. This was his fault…he'd wanted to attend this party, even knowing it had to mean trouble. He wasn't paying attention to the last of Discord's cheerfully gloating explanation. "We weren't sure it would work on a full god, but we decided Aphrodite and Hephaestus needed to be taught a lesson for insulting us, leaving us off the guest list. I mean really, that was just plain rude! Besides, what better chance to take over Olympus in one easy step? If it didn't work, who'd know we'd tried to kill them all, and if it did, well…great!"

Leandra had been watching and listening with a growing sense of horror, understanding completely the bleak, lost look in her grandson's eyes. She could have wept for the pain she saw there.

And might have, but her attention was taken by Strife who had staggered to his feet, his face a grimace of rage as he prepared to throw his best and most deadly thunderbolt at the despised mortal runt who had just trashed him.

"NO!" Leandra cried out, unconsciously lifting her hands in an angry, if hopeless, gesture, as if she could block his attack on her grandson with a thought.

And, it appeared that she could.

A blinding bolt of sheer energy left her fingertips and blasted the vicious god back against the wall so hard it knocked him out cold.

Leandra blinked in shock, her eyes darting to Iolaus', her mouth wide in amazement.

"Enjoy it, kiddies," Discord explained with weary disdain. "If you drank some of the punch, the nectar we put into it to cover the flavour of the poison will have given you a couple of new capabilities. But, you're just mortals, so the effects will wear off by morning."

Her attention having been caught by Discord's words, Demeter looked up with a puzzled frown. "Nectar? You used my nectar? From my garden?"

"Uh huh," Discord confirmed. "Nice touch, eh? Oh, and you, Happy Huntress!" Discord called jeeringly to Artemis, "don't get any ideas about using your precious honey to cure everyone here…Strife fried the hives."

"You killed my bees?" shrieked the Goddess of the Hunt, her arm flinging forward to send a bolt of fire toward the self-satisfied twerp of a goddess who was gloating a little too much. But, nothing happened.

Giggling, Discord grinned, "The poison neutralizes your powers…they're the first thing to go, then your sanity and then," sigh, "bye bye!" Waving her fingers at the assembled crowd, Discord vanished.

Only to return a moment later to grab Strife by the collar, observing sarcastically, "Some co-ruler you're going to make," before she waved an irritated hand and they both disappeared from sight.

Distracted, his thoughts only on Hercules, Iolaus hadn't paid much attention to anything else in the last few minutes, hadn't heard the words spoken, or if he did, didn't grasp their meaning. Slowly, like a man caught in a nightmare, he crossed the hall to kneel by his partner's side. Tears glistening in his eyes, he reached out to brush Hercules' bangs back from his face.

"Wha'?" Hercules asked, trying to focus on Iolaus' face. Seeing the pain in his buddy's eyes, he frowned, trying to concentrate. "Wha's wrong, 'Olus?"

"Herc…" Iolaus whispered, his voice cracking. Suddenly, he reached forward and pulled his friend into his arms, holding him tight, which given his new found godly strength was a good deal tighter than usual. "Oh gods, Herc…" the hunter cried, shattered. "I don't know what to do…."

Leandra came and laid a gentle hand on Iolaus' shoulder, a look of infinite compassion on her face. "I'm so sorry," she murmured.

But, Iolaus shook his head, rejecting the sympathy. "NO!" he cried. "There has to be something we can do!"

"Allays somet'in you c'n do, 'Olus," Hercules said owlishly, not entirely sure why his best buddy looked so upset but wanting, as always, to make him feel better.

Iolaus looked back at Hercules, his jaw tight as he tried to suppress the sob lodged in his throat. Falling over in tears wasn't going to do anybody any good. Swallowing hard, he nodded, murmuring softly, "Yeah, there's always something, isn't there, buddy?"

"Yep," Hercules replied sagely, but then frowned. Shaking his head, trying to clear his vision, he asked, "Do 'bout wha', 'xactly?"

But, Iolaus just shook his head and tried to find a smile for his friend. Herc was in no shape to help and there was no point in scaring him. Tenderly, he brushed his fingers along his buddy's cheek, as he replied quietly, "Nothing you need to worry about, big guy. Tell you what, why don't you just rest for awhile and I'll check a few things out, okay?"

"'Kay, if yoo say so, 'Olus," Hercules agreed, then yawned widely and slid down the wall in the grip of the drunken stupor. Curling up like a trusting child, his eyes blinked heavily and then he slipped off to sleep.

Iolaus' lips trembled as he gazed down at his friend, gently stroking his buddy's hair, soothing the demigod, knowing that he was suffering from the effects of the poison. There was something so innocent, so helpless, about Hercules at that moment that it broke his heart. Gods, there had to be a way to save him. But, Hind's blood was fatal to gods, and he didn't know if there was any cure for powdered horn of Hind. Gods, what was he going to do?

Pushing himself to his feet, he looked around the hall at the insanity that reigned. Goddesses shrieking at one another, young gods pontificating like old men, older gods and goddesses acting like children. All of them, dying. Responsibility hung heavily upon his sagging shoulders. He pushed his fingers through his unruly curls in frustration. Even if he didn't want to save them all, unlike Hercules, Iolaus believed the world actually needed the gods. Love, passion, mechanical ability, wisdom, the tricks of the hunt, care of the Other Side, bountiful harvests…one way or another, they all had a role to play in the complicated dance of life. Without them, chaos would reign in Greece as much as it would consume Olympus under the malicious rule of Strife and Discord.

Gods, what a mess!

"What are we going to do, Iolaus?" Leandra asked him softly.

Hands on his hips, Iolaus shook his head as he chewed on his lip, trying to marshal his thoughts, trying to be logical in the midst of madness. Gazing at the floor, he spoke almost to himself as he worked it through, "They're supposed to be immortal, so they're not that easy to kill off, unless you get something quick and devastating like Hind's blood that works instantaneously. So, regardless of what the poison is, since it takes time to work, there must be someway of counteracting it…some substance that's guaranteed to restore godly health and strength. Otherwise, this lot would have killed each other off a long time ago."

"Discord made some comment about honey, as if it could have helped them," Leandra offered doubtfully. Honey was medicinal, everyone knew that, but something that common couldn't be the cure for the gods.

"Honey?" Iolaus repeated, looking up at her with a perplexed look that suddenly cleared to an expression of jubilation. "Honey! That's it! Artemis' hives…the honey her bees produce can cure anything!"

"Oh no," whispered Leandra, knowing she was about to destroy what may be their only hope, dim that bright spark of joyful relief in Iolaus' eyes.

"What?" Iolaus demanded, a sick feeling curling in his stomach at the devastated look in his grandmother's eyes.

"Discord said Strife had 'fried the hives'…."

"Oh gods," Iolaus moaned, turning away, his face tilted toward the ceiling. "No." Looking back down at the floor, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, he sighed heavily, trying to think of what else might be of help.

'Damn Strife,' he thought viciously, remembering those rich hives from long ago, when he and Herc had raided Demeter's garden in a hidden corner of Olympus. As his gaze landed on Artemis, he thought ruefully that if he could find a way to save them all, poor Cybrus, the two headed giant gardener also tasked with guarding the hives, was going to have some fancy explaining to do to both goddesses. But, as more memories returned, he swallowed hard, again feeling shame and guilt that he didn't know how to save Hercules when he remembered how Hercules had saved his life that day, how upset his buddy had been that he'd almost died for something as silly as getting some honey for his…mother.

Alcmene. Hives.

That was it!

Strife and Discord wouldn't know about the gift to Alcmene!

But, how could he get all the way to Thebes and back by morning? The spark of hope died, desolation flowing back as he shook his head, grappling with the problem. There had to be a way. And, he'd better figure it out soon, or Herc was going to die.

Leandra had been watching him closely, had seen that something had given him a moment of hope.

"What is it?" she asked in a breathy whisper, her eyes once again roaming the chaos around them. "Do you have an idea?"

Iolaus sighed. "Well, there's maybe one chance…but, no one here has any of their powers. And, no one but a god could do this…it's too far…."

Leandra turned her gaze back to him. "What's too far?"

Iolaus looked around the room, wondering just how private their conversations were or if Discord and Strife had a means of overhearing them. Gods, he couldn't let them know about Alcmene's hive of Olympian bees or he'd be putting her in danger, too.

Leaning close to his grandmother's ear, he whispered softly, "I know where there's another hive, but it's too far for me to run there and back in one night…and that's all the time we have before…." He couldn't say it. The lump was back in his throat and tears spangled in his eyes just at the thought of what the dawn would bring. He was beginning to understand why Hercules cried so much more easily than he did…Herc had learned how when he'd suffered through all those terrible times when he'd been terrified his best friend was going to die…just as Iolaus was terrified now.

Turning toward him, her head down, she whispered back, "Why did you wish the gods still had their powers? What could they do that we can't?"

"Disappear from here and appear there in a heartbeat," Iolaus murmured in explanation, "and then snap themselves right back here again."

Frowning, thinking of the way she'd flamed Strife, Leandra asked uncertainly, "Do you think we have all of their powers? From the nectar? Remember, Discord said they'd last until morning…."

Iolaus slapped his forehead in exasperation. "Gods, I'm thick tonight! I was worrying about Herc and not really listening to her. Let's try it. Look…you 'think' yourself over to the other side of the room, okay?"

"'Think myself'?" Leandra repeated uncertainly, a doubtful look on her face.

Nodding, Iolaus replied, "Yeah…I don't know how they do it, but they just seem to think themselves somewhere and they're there. Here, I'll try it first."

Closing his eyes, his face a little scrunched in concentration, Iolaus blinked from sight. Leandra gasped, then looked wildly around the room, hoping that now that he was gone, he'd be able to 'think' his way back! Sagging with relief, she saw him materialize near the entrance to the cavern. Grinning, he gave her a decisive nod, and disappeared again, only to reappear at her side.

"Okay, now you try," he urged, excited by the possibility that maybe they could beat this after all.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes fixed on him, she…vanished! Iolaus looked around the room, his heart sinking when he didn't see her anywhere. Oh gods…had something happened to her? He was just working himself into a frenzy when she flashed back beside him.

"Where did you go?" he demanded, weak with relief to see that she was all right.

"Home," she whispered with a slightly hysterical giggle. "I wanted to see if I could go somewhere away from here."

"Right," he sighed. "Okay, I think I should stay here in case the gruesome twosome come back." Taking Leandra by the arm, he turned her to huddle near the wall to draw an invisible map with his fingertip as he bent close to her ear to explain what he needed her to do. Leandra had never been to Alcmene's place, so it might take her some time to find the house once she got to Thebes, let alone the hive in the small bower of climbing roses in the back meadow by the creek.

"Won't she wonder what I'm doing there? Should I tell her about Hercules?" Leandra asked, uncertain.

Iolaus' eyes darkened as he realized how terrified Alcmene would be if she heard what was happening. Shaking his head, he replied, "No, not unless you really have to. There's nothing she can do and she'd only worry. It's not as if you could bring her back with you, and it would be too dangerous for her to come here anyway. Try to get the honey without her knowing you're there."

"Dangerous? Because if those awful two demons find out what we're doing, they might fight back?" she asked with a troubled look.

"Yeah," Iolaus sighed, wishing she hadn't figured that part out for herself. She was his grandmother, not used to the dangers he faced everyday with scarcely a thought, and he didn't want to worry her. But, she was his grandmother, and not particularly stupid, so it hadn't taken her long to put the pieces together.

"But…you'll be here alone with them. Iolaus, I'm afraid of what they might do to you," she said, worry flaring in her eyes. Much as she felt badly about what was happening to the gods, and even to Hercules, it was Iolaus she loved and so far at least, Strife and Discord hadn't threatened either of them directly.

"Don't worry about me," Iolaus assured her with the bold confidence that came so naturally to him. She didn't know him well enough yet to know that half the time it was faked. "I can handle them. Look, I don't know how much honey we'll need," he continued, picking up a punch bowl and tossing the liquid in it away, "so take this and bring back as much as you can."

Leandra took the bowl and held it against her body with one arm while she reached to run light fingertips across his face, pushing his hair back, while she gazed into his eyes. "You be careful, Iolaus," she said sternly.

Giving her a warm smile and quick hug, he whispered impishly into her ear, "Hey, I'm a Greek God…what could happen? I'll be fine…go."

Nodding, she smiled bravely at him and vanished from sight.

Iolaus gazed at the spot where she'd been for a moment, then took a deep breath and turned to face the room, glancing from one deity to another, wondering if any of them could be of any help if trouble broke loose. Laughing mirthlessly to himself, he shook his head…as if they didn't already have a world more trouble than they needed.

Straightening his shoulders, he decided to start with the ones he knew best and work from there.

"Aphrodite, may I have a word with you?" he asked very properly, remembering her horror at Heph's offhand behaviour.

Turning away from slapping Artemis silly, Aphrodite smoothed back her hair and replied formally, "Why certainly, Iolaus. What is it that you wanted?"

Bowing a little, taking her arm, he led her away from the others toward Zeus and Ares. Standing in the middle of the hopscotch squares Zeus had fashioned with olives, to break up the game and get their attention, Iolaus asked, keeping his voice calm, clear and his words very simple, "Alright, do any of you remember that Discord and Strife have poisoned you and that you will all be dead by morning unless we find a cure?"

"Dead?" shrieked Ares. "We're going to die?"

"What's dead?" asked Zeus, frowning. It wasn't a concept he'd ever spent much time thinking about in any way that might apply to himself.

Aphrodite shrugged decorously as she nodded, "I remember they arrived uninvited, but since they didn't stay long, I didn't need to throw them out…and, yes, they did say something about poison…why? Is it important?" Well, it was 'Dite after all, and the poison hadn't changed the fact that she had a short attention span.

"Okay," replied Iolaus, patting Ares on the arm to calm him. "I'm going to try to fix this…."

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" Persephone demanded imperiously as she joined them. "I've never seen such a sorry excuse for a party in my life!"

'Dite sniffed in haughty disdain as she replied, "Well, no one cares if you stay…so go."

Persephone glared at the Goddess of Love, snapped her fingers…and looked around in stunned surprise to find that she hadn't gone anywhere. "Why am I still here?" she muttered.

"You've lost your powers," Iolaus explained, feeling very harried and rolling his eyes when Zeus started to cry and 'Dite tried to hush him while Persephone crossed her arms in disgust, tapping her toe impatiently.

Raising his voice, he shouted at them, "Would you all just pay attention!"

"Why should they pay attention, Iolaus?" Discord snapped as she appeared beside them. "What are you up to?"

Pasting his best look of aggrieved innocence on his face, Iolaus spun toward her, "What am I up to? You're in the process of murdering them all, and taking over Olympus, and you ask me what I'm up to?"

Discord narrowed her eyes as she studied him, then looked around the room. "Where's the other one?" she demanded.

Other one?" Iolaus repeated, stalling, pretending he didn't know what she was talking about.

Simmering just short of her flash point, Discord bore down on him, "DON"T MESS WITH ME! Where is she?" she screamed into his face.

Iolaus looked around the room, then back at Discord. Shrugging, he replied, "The ladies' room, maybe?"

Strife flashed in then, whining and wringing his hands. "He's doing it again, isn't he? He's going to ruin everything…stupid mortal. You and the blasted demigod always ruin everything. Should just kill him now, yeah, that's right…just blast him away. I don't have to wait for morning, I can just kill him right now." Strife turned around in a circle, quite obviously searching for Hercules, having forgotten that Iolaus was by far the greater threat to them now.

Iolaus grabbed his arm and pulled him around, "You leave him alone, you hear me!"

"You ARE up to something!" Discord shouted. "Strife, shut up and let me handle this. Alright, Sunshine, give," she snarled at Iolaus, "or…"

"Or what?" Iolaus snapped, shifting so that he could keep his eyes on both of them at the same time. "I'm a god, now, remember? You can't hurt me."

"Wanna bet?" Discord taunted, lifting a hand to throw a thunderbolt at him, but he beat her to it, backhanding her across the hall so that she went skidding out of the entrance to crash against the far end of the hallway, to lie crumpled and unconscious against the stone wall. Flexing his muscles, rather enjoying the rush of unrestrained strength the nectar had given him, he thought how handy it would be to be this strong all the time. But, then, that's what Hercules was for. The thought of his buddy reminding him of the dire situation and his fury at the god beside him who had dared threaten his best friend's wellbeing, Iolaus returned to the matter at hand.

"Don't hurt me!" whimpered Strife as Iolaus rounded on him.

"Go away," Iolaus said with a dangerously low voice. Gulping, Strife vanished.

"Wow, you're brave," Ares enthused, coming up to slap Iolaus on the back. "I wish I could be like you."

Iolaus was about to respond when he heard a snarl and turned to see the bronze panther stalk into the room. In the distance, he could hear the clang of armoured warriors.

"Great," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Just great."

* * *

Leandra had been able to 'think' her way to the marketplace in Thebes, having been there once when she was a child. However, it had changed a lot in the more than sixty years that had passed, fifty of them in the blink of an eye it seemed sometimes. It was dark, night having fallen long before, and nothing looked the least bit familiar to her. Turning in a circle, she tried to get her bearings…which direction was west? A worried frown creased her brow as she bit her lip and looked up at the darkness, trying to find the pole star, but clouds scudded across the sky, obscuring the stars. Pushing one hand through her hair, feeling the pressure of time, caught between indecision and despair, Leandra felt panic begin to build in her chest.

Trembling like a hunted deer, she turned in a slow circle, forcing herself to take deep breaths. She wasn't the wife and mother of generals and the grandmother of a hero for nothing. She could do this! Straightening, she lifted her eyes to the tops of the buildings, looking for the tallest and sighed in relief when she recognized the sculpted friezes of the ancient temple at the far end of the square. Now, that she remembered. Closing her eyes, she matched it with the memory of her mind, turning to stand with her back to the temple and nodded…west was on her right hand.

Resolutely, she headed down the first major lane to the west, out into the countryside. Iolaus had told her Alcmene's home was about an hour's walk from town. She'd tried flashing straight there, but for some reason she didn't understand, she needed to know what a place looked like before she could flash to it. She supposed it was hard to think about a place you'd never been, and hold it in your mind's eye as the destination point when you entered the in-between land of 'not quite there' when you flashed from one point to another.

But, if it was dark in the town, with the faint glow of sparsely placed torches, it was pitch black in the countryside. Shaking her head in annoyance at the delay, she cautiously scouted around until she found a small growth of cats-tails. Carefully laying the bowl on the ground, she felt around for small rocks to use as flint. Iolaus might think being able to start a fire was an old hunter's trick, but the old hunter had learned it from a woman. Every self-respecting wife and mother since the dawn of time had known how to make fire because the hearth and cooking had always been their responsibility.

Moments later, a torch in one hand and her arm wrapped securely around the bowl, Leandra continued down the lane.

* * *

Hera and Hermes had stumbled from the dark corner at the hiss of the cat, this distraction having been sufficient to break their attention away from the fascinating discussion they'd been having about all the things they each had in common and how attractive the other was…you know, one of those discussions where words are superfluous.

But, Hera had only taken two steps when she collapsed unconscious, Hermes barely catching her in time to prevent her from smacking face first like a sack of grain onto the floor. Seconds later, Demeter sighed and sank in a heap.

Iolaus spared them a quick glance, his heart sinking with the realization that the third stage of the poison was starting, that time was running out, but his attention was on the immediate threat at hand. "Heph!" he shouted, "Call off your cat!"

Hephaestus stopped in mid-twist, having finally found a dance that allowed him to keep both feet on the floor, and looked up and around, following Iolaus' gaze to the bronze lion. He snapped his fingers, then snapped them again…but the cat just snarled at him. Eyes wide, the God of the Forge turned back to Iolaus.

"You can't just tell it to sit or something?" Iolaus demanded, exasperated. Gods, the guy had all of eternity to work with and hadn't bothered to take the time to train his cavern cat.

Heph shrugged. "Sorry," he said, "Cats are harder to train than dogs."

"No kidding," Iolaus replied, warily moving toward the animal, pulling a pink cloth from a table as he moved by and tossing it to the floor as he bent to pick up the improvised shield cum weapon by it's iron pedestal. "Knife cuts parchment," he muttered, "iron can bash bronze."

"Actually, it's the other way around," Heph corrected helpfully, the change in his personality not having negated the accumulation of a millenia worth of knowledge of metals.

Grimly, Iolaus replied sarcastically, "I know that…but did you have to tell the cat?" Disgusted, vaguely insulted, he muttered, "Sheesh, I'm a blacksmith, too, ya know!"

Ares was pulling on his other arm, trying to drag him back. "Don't Iolaus…that thing'll kill you!"

The God of War had had less to drink than the others, and while the poison was affecting him, he still had enough awareness left to know he didn't want the one person who looked like he could protect them getting bumped off. Self-preservation is an important instinct in war, and Ares had it in spades.

Impatiently, Iolaus shrugged him off. "Go back and look after your father and sisters," he ordered.

"Me?" squeaked Ares, realizing Iolaus actually expected him to maybe do something if the little guy couldn't stop the cat. Ares looked at Iolaus and shook his head…crazy. A good warrior, maybe. Even great. But, Iolaus had always, definitely, been crazy.

Ignoring him, Iolaus stalked forward, bravely putting himself between the lion and the others. The cat crouched, snarling, then sprang!

Iolaus twisted, bringing the edge of the table around sharply to crash with a clang against the head and neck of the cat as it flew up at him. The cat went flying, flipping in the air to land on its feet, shaking its head as if stunned. The table, unfortunately, had crumpled from the impact and was virtually useless. Disgusted, Iolaus dropped it, looking around for something else to use but the cat was already up and streaking for him. Just as the cat leapt, he dropped to the ground under it, then rolled to come back up to his feet, facing it again as it skidded on the rugs on the stone floor and whirled, spitting, to crouch and stalk him.

"Think, Iolaus," the warrior muttered to himself. 'Oh for the love of…' he thought with sudden impatient self-awareness as the cat leapt at him again. Remembering, finally, that he wasn't limited to his usual mortal repertoire of tricks, Iolaus lashed out with a bolt of energy, catching the lion in midair and driving it back against the wall, where his power held it pinned until only liquid metal, dripping down the wall to form a bronze puddle on the floor, remained of the threat.

"Fire melts metal," he said with some satisfaction, blowing on his fingers as he threw a smug look at Heph that as much as said, 'See, I am too a blacksmith!'

"Cool," marveled Ares, impressed. The guy might be crazy, but no doubt about it, he was great! Nice killer instincts, too. Too bad he wasn't the one who was the demigod.

Zeus pitched over onto his face with a resounding splat just as Poseidon sank beneath the waves of punch he'd been playing in. Cursing, Iolaus bounded across the hall and grabbed the God of the Sea to pull his head up. If the poison made them opposite to what they were normally, this guy would drown, unable to transform into his deepsea merman form. Shaking his head as he pulled the god from the fountain, Iolaus laid him on a rug, then straightened to take a quick inventory of who was still standing.

Lusty, self-indulgent and lovers of the grape, Zeus, Poseidon, Apollo, Cupid, and Hermes had practically dove into the punchbowls when they'd first arrived, consuming copious amounts of the delightful libation, and were now lying in awkward, undignified heaps on the floor. Hera and Demeter had dropped first. Well, except for Hercules who, not being much of a drinker normally, had passed out some time before from the exaggerated effect of the liquor more than from the poison…or that would be what he told himself if he ever woke up.

That left Ares, Hades, Heph and the younger goddesses still standing, the other gods having crumpled like dominos soon after Zeus and Poseidon.

And the clunk of heavy metal feet was coming closer.

"Quick!" yelled Iolaus, ever a man of action and quick thought, "Block the doorway!"

Demonstrating what he wanted, he ripped delicacy-laden tablecloths from two nearby tables and dragged the heavy furniture as if they were no more than matchsticks to the portal of the cavern, upending them to stack across the entrance. Catching on, and realizing better than the others what was coming, Heph followed suit. He didn't quite know what was going on, but his inability to stop the cat had broken through the muddled haze of his mind a little and he vaguely knew they were in some kind of deep trouble. Ares and Hades began dutifully piling up tables, Hades thinking it was an engaging game of some kind, and in moments there was a flimsy barrier across the portal.

"Lean against it," Iolaus commanded with his innate air of a general marshalling his forces. "Don't let them in!"

They'd just put their backs against the barrier when it was shaken by a mighty blow from the other side.

"This'll never hold them, Iolaus," Heph panted, turning to push his good shoulder against the pile of tables that was slowly and inexorably being pushed back into the cavern. "Don't you remember? They can break through anything." Despite the peril of the moment, there was a gleam of prideful satisfaction in his eyes. He'd created them and they were virtually indestructible…but, then, of course they were. He'd created them.

"Can I fry them?" Iolaus asked hopefully, flexing his arms and wiggling his fingers in anticipation. 'Remember them? Who could forget being soundly thrashed by those mechanical men,' he thought with a certain chagrin…but, this was his chance to get even, big time!

Heph shook his head. " 'Fraid not. There's no way to melt them."

Sagging with a sigh, Iolaus groaned to himself as he pushed his curls back from his forehead, "Gods and their toys…why can't you make 'em breakable like all ours are?"

"Sor…" Heph sighed as he slipped unconscious to the floor.

Iolaus rolled his eyes. "Wonderful," he muttered, wondering how long the rest would last.

* * *

Alcmene hadn't been able to sleep. Something was bothering her, making her restless and a trifle anxious, as if something was wrong and she should know what it was, but couldn't figure it out. She was worried about Hercules, but there wasn't any reason to be concerned about him so far as she knew. Other than the usual thing…monsters, mercenaries, barbarian hordes, evil warlords, bandits…but, that was nothing special. Nothing he hadn't handled with a certain panache many times in the past.

Sighing, she wandered around her darkened cottage, wondering what could be the matter, but knowing in her mother's heart of hearts that her son was in some kind of danger. Still, she consoled herself, Iolaus was with him, and Iolaus would die before he let anything happen to Hercules…not that she wanted anything to happen to Iolaus. He was like one of her own sons. Still, if forced to choose between them…appalled at the direction her thoughts had taken, Alcmene straightened and pushed back her hair. Besides, the point was, Iolaus hadn't saved her in the past yet…well, gone back yet, into the past, to save her and her unborn son, so there couldn't really be anything truly serious to worry about.

Hercules always marveled at her calm, her constant confidence that no matter what happened, what dangers or horrific threats he confronted, she believed in him, in his ability to triumph. It was a big part of his inherent certainty that he was unbeatable. She understood that and took great care to never let him know that her assurance of his security was only because he had to live at least long enough for Iolaus to get old enough to go back in time to save them.

So, why was she worrying, then? Well, she was a mother, and basically, she couldn't help herself.

The small light dancing from up the lane from the road to Thebes caught her attention as she peered into the darkness. "Now, who could that be?" she wondered. It was late for company to be calling, but hospitable as always, she smoothed her hair and straightened her gown, preparing to welcome whomever the inconsiderate soul was.

But, to her surprise, the light passed the cottage by, staying well to the far side of the barn as whomever it was proceeded to sneak silently into the back meadow. Frowning, Alcmene picked up a cast-iron frying pan and slipped into the night to follow. Nice, hospitable, gentle Alcmene could be a force to reckon with when anyone crossed her.

Which was one of the reasons Iolaus had learned some measure of courtesy and responsibility from the years he'd spent under her guidance. You only had to cross Alcmene once…which also accounted for Hercules' deeply ingrained, and entirely unconscious, tendency to submit to authority, mortal authority that was…if Zeus had taken the proper time with him when he'd been a child, he'd no doubt have learned to respect godly authority, too. As it was, he'd some how come to the conclusion that since it had been alright for Zeus to ignore him, it was alright for him to ignore Zeus…and all the rest of the gods unless they became too annoying and needed to be taught a lesson. Hence the common wisdom that 'a boy needs a father'. Iolaus, much as he'd often regretted the fact, had at least had one.

* * *

Approving of Strife's malicious loosing of Heph's inventions on the hapless party-goers, Discord had returned to Olympus, scowling heavily as she prowled around Ares' temple, wondering what Shorty was up to and where that dishwater blond babe had gone. Growling as her simmering irritation rapidly heated to the boiling point, she knocked over a couple of statues and then stood in the centre of the edifice to hurl a bloodcurdling scream of frustration at the ceiling while she stamped her feet in rage.

Not being especially bright, her peabrain normally completely taken up with malicious thoughts, it took her a while to figure out that it wasn't all that hard to find the missing mortal. Heaving another vast sigh of frustration, she marched herself up to Ares' throne and plopped down on the plushly cushioned seat, leaning over the heavy wooden arm of the richly carved throne to stare into the urn beside it to command, "Show me whatshername."

A large question mark formed in the pool of water.

Splashing impatiently, she snarled, "Don't give me that…you know perfectly well who I mean. That blond mortal woman who's as pale as a ghost and about as lively. Where did she go when she left Hephaestus' cavern?"

The pool obligingly showed Leandra cautiously tiptoeing toward a beehive.

"WHAT???" the goddess shrieked. "Strife destroyed them all! That's impossible!"

Indifferent to her moods, the pool cleared. It wasn't responsible for the answers it gave.

"Damn it!" screamed the goddess, shaking the urn. "Show me where that interfering bitch has gone!"

Obligingly, the pool showed Leandra carefully completing the smoking of the hive with her torch to lull the bees and then followed her motions as she stuck the torch in the ground, lowered the bowl beside the hive and began to ease the first level off to tilt it over the bowl, thick, viscous honey flowing heavily into the crystal.

"I'm going to turn you into steam if you don't soon show me something useful!" Discord threatened, shaking a fist at the urn.

Slowly, as if mocking her, the view widened, and widened until she could make out another figure prowling through the shadows. Mesmerized, she stared into the enchanted water.

* * *

"What do you think you are doing?" Alcmene demanded, coming boldly into the light once she saw the intruder was only another woman intent upon stealing her special honey. A pale, insipid, nervous looking woman at that.

Leandra started in surprised alarm and almost spilled the honey onto the ground, recovering just in time to tilt the comb back over the bowl.

"I'm sorry…you must be Alcmene," she replied breathlessly.

"And you would be…?" the mother of the Son of Zeus inquired dryly, feeling well in command of the situation.

"Leandra, Iolaus' grandmother," the stranger replied, her eyes down to watch the honey pouring into the bowl.

"Iolaus' grand…" Alcmene gasped, her command of the situation slipping a little. "Skouros' mother?"

"Yes," Leandra acknowledged, then rushed on, naturally apologetic. Few people ever actually seemed to notice that an inherent lack of confidence mixed with gumption seemed to be an inherited trait, at least in her family. "I'm sorry to have frightened you…I'd hoped you wouldn't notice I was here. But, I'm very glad to finally meet you."

Working while she spoke, Leandra returned the section of the hive and reached to lift off the next one down. Bending over the bowl, she looked up then, the light of the torch catching her sincere look of gratitude, (another genetic trait…gratitude for simple kindnesses), she said quietly, "Iolaus has told me all about how good you were to him when he was a child and through all the years ever since. Though he's not told me much about his childhood, I can tell he needed someone to love him. Thank you for having given him what he needed."

Alcmene had been staring at the other woman speechless, trying to make sense of what was going on, wondering where her command of the situation had gone. Distracted, she murmured, "Iolaus is a dear…like one of my own sons. You don't need to thank me for loving him."

Leandra smiled sweetly at her, (uh huh, you got it, yet another genetic trait) and nodded in understanding. Iolaus was a dear, and she could not understand why he had that shadow in his eyes, the one that told her he was always so surprised when someone cared about him. Not owning a mirror, she didn't know the same look resided in her own eyes.

Recovering, trying to reclaim command of the situation, Alcmene asked with a frown. "Why are you here…why do you need the honey?"

Leandra looked away, wondering how she could explain. "There's been trouble with some of the gods from Olympus…two have poisoned many of the others. They'll die by dawn without the honey to restore their godly powers and nullify the effects of the poison."

"How did you know the honey was here?" Alcmene asked, feeling a mother's fear wrap around her heart.

"Iolaus told me and asked me to come for it," Leandra replied, refusing to look Alcmene in the eyes.

"Oh no," Alcmene sighed, a hand going to her heart. "Something's happened to Hercules, hasn't it? Hasn't it?"

When Leandra didn't answer, tears sprang to Herc's mother's eyes. "Please…tell me what's happened to my son," she begged.

Having emptied the honey from the last comb into the bowl, somewhat surprised and not a little worried to see that the crystal punch bowl was far from full, Leandra put the hive back together and straightened. It would have to be enough…one spoonful would have to be enough, if that was all they had. Then, hiding her worry, she turned to wrap her arms kindly around Alcmene to sooth her. "It will be alright. He's been poisoned, like the others, but this honey will cure him, too. Don't worry," Leandra murmured as Alcmene stared at her, tears flowing unheeded down her cheeks.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Discord sneered, appearing next to the crystal bowl of honey. With a cold smile she pointed her finger down at the bowl.

Leandra whirled, turning to stand between Alcmene and the demon goddess, her eyes wide with dismay. Seeing what Discord intended, unthinking, just reacting, Leandra lashed out with her hands, bolts of power converging on the goddess and flinging her back into a tree at the edge of the meadow. There was nothing Leandra wanted more than to grab up the bowl and blink back to the cavern, but she couldn't leave Alcmene alone and helpless with the vicious little witch.

"Run!" Leandra ordered over her shoulder, her temerity falling away as she drew on courage and determination she'd scarcely known she had. Moving forward, keeping her eyes on Discord, she picked up the bowl, intending to shield it with her own body.

Alcmene stood gaping, astonished at the power that had burst from Leandra's hands. How was it possible? Leandra was mortal…wasn't she? Disregarding the command to run, but having enough sense to get out of the line of fire, Alcmene backed a few feet away.

Discord bounded back up onto her feet, hissing like a furious cat, spitting in her rage. "Why you little excuse for…" but her words were cut off as Leandra blasted her again, not taking any chances. Ready this time, Discord flipped into the air, escaping the blast and shot one of her own off as soon as she'd landed again.

Unprepared, not having any way to know what to expect, Leandra was staggered, and fell backward, the bowl of honey flying high into the air. Recovering her balance, desperate not to lose the only thing that could cure Iolaus' friend, Leandra kept her eyes on the bowl. Well, after all, the last time she'd taken her eyes off the most precious thing in her life, look what happened…fifty years had gone by. Forgetting in her determination not to let her grandson down that she should be watching the goddess, Leandra reached high to catch the bowl as it fell back to earth. But, Discord lashed out with a double bolt, catching the mortal woman in the chest, flinging her far back across the meadow to land stunned in the long grass.

The bowl continued its path to earth, held in the relentless grip of gravity. Alcmene, horrified, took two steps forward, stumbling, to catch the obviously delicate and well crafted bowl before it splattered all over and made a mess, but she was too far away. Discord stood with her hands on her hips laughing as the crystal shattered, shards of glass and spatters of honey flying before they too dropped to earth.

Racing forward, Leandra was unwilling to give up. One spoonful…if she could even rescue one spoonful, for Hercules, her mission would still have purpose. But, Discord, seeing the desperate effort just grinned as she flung a bolt at the ruined mess in the grass, sizzling the honey, boiling it to nothing with a blast that had been hot enough to melt the crystal itself.

Alcmene fell to her knees, a hand to her lips as she stared up at the malicious goddess, enraged by the gloating look of triumph in her eyes. Leandra, slowed, stumbled to a halt, stricken by the disaster. Tears blossomed in her eyes and slid down her cheeks as she, too, sank to the ground, heedless of the scratches and aches of her injuries.

She'd failed.

Hercules was going to die.

Her hands came up to cover her face as she sobbed, her heart broken, knowing that she might better have killed her grandson than have left him to witness the death of the friend he loved beyond life itself.

"Get over it," Discord sneered. "You never had a chance."

* * *

The armoured warriors were making short work of the wrought-iron tables that blocked their way into the cavern, but then, they'd been designed to make short work of anything that got in their way. Iolaus dragged Heph out of the path of impending destruction before he got crushed by the creatures that were about to burst through the flimsy barrier, as he shouted to the others, "They're virtually unstoppable unless you can knock their heads or legs off."

"Yikes!" squeaked Ares, trying to imagine how they'd ever manage to dismember the monsters before the monsters dismembered them. NOT a pretty thought, even for a God of War, but it's different somehow when you're the one who is about to be dismembered.

"Wha's goin' on?" Hercules mumbled as he came unsteadily to his feet, holding his pounding head with both hands as he leaned against the wall for support.

"Heph's armoured warriors are attacking us," Hades explained, reflecting that this game wasn't much fun. Iolaus remained silent, turning to stare with dismay at his still somewhat intoxicated friend. He'd hoped Herc would stay asleep and out of the way of these creatures. Without his strength, and not as fast on his feet as usual, the big guy could get seriously hurt!

As another loud crash echoed through the cavern, Iolaus recovered and instructed hurriedly, shouting, "Look, I'll distract them and knock them over. You guys be ready to crash the edges of tables down on their necks and joints, or kick their heads off…whatever. Just pull them apart somehow."

Hades made a face as he mumbled, "He makes it sound so easy."

"They're going to kill us," Ares pointed out, gazing back over his shoulder at Iolaus, fear dancing in his eyes. "I'm scared."

Pushed to the limit, Iolaus rounded on him, shouting, "For the love of Zeus, you're the God of War! Act like yourself! Courage is about doing what you have to do even when you're scared. You're a warrior, you know how to fight! So, fight, dammit!"

Cringing a little, shamed by the blistering contempt of the glaring, and very daring, brave little warrior, Ares nodded reluctantly, looking around for inspiration. After all, if he was going to get killed by these things anyway, there really was no reason to make it easy for them. He spotted the piles of tablecloths littering the floor and took a deep breath, hoping his idea would work.

Just then, the armoured warriors gave a mighty heave and the gods holding them back went sprawling across the floor as the tables fell clattering in disarray. Kicking them aside, the monstrous warriors strode into the cavern, heads swiveling to find their victims.

Iolaus gazed at his troops, shaking his head. "Why isn't there ever a god around when you need one?" But, then, raising his head, the fire of battle in his eyes, he nodded grimly to himself. Actually, there was a god around and he was just the guy to teach these mechanical beasties a lesson. He'd beaten them before… he could beat them again.

With a blood-curling yell, he launched himself at the advancing mob.

* * *

Having accomplished her mission, knowing there was no more honey in the carefully unfried hive, Discord bowed mockingly and vanished from sight. Unlike Strife, she was able to think enough ahead to know it might be useful to know where to find a single remaining hive of Olympian honey. If she alone had the cure to the poison they'd fashioned, she could take complete control, the others at her mercy.

Leandra was still sobbing as if the world had ended and it was all her fault. Well, in a way, that was true, but it wasn't the world that concerned her just then. She'd failed Iolaus, and now the one person who meant the most to her, her beloved grandson, was going to lose the one person who meant the most to him. Hercules was going to die. She didn't know how she was ever going to face him, or tell him that it was hopeless. That there was no way left to save Hercules' life.

Alcmene blinked back her tears, her face stony with anger. Well, she'd show that little witch. And, when it was all over, she profoundly hoped someone on Olympus would find a suitable punishment for all the trouble the rotten little goddess had caused. Try to kill her son, would she? Well, they'd see about that.

Bending to draw Leandra back to her feet, Alcmene murmured quietly, "Come with me back to the house. I've something to show you."

* * *

Ares grabbed up a tablecloth and threw it over the closest metal monster, blinding it, as he turned to grin at Iolaus.

"Now you're rocking!" the warrior called as he rolled to his feet, having just poleaxed one of the monsters with a flying double kick. Spinning like a top, his arms wide, he knocked others flying, then dropped to roll into the crowded bunch that had just stomped through the portal, bowling them over into a confused heap of metal arms and legs.

Iolaus came to his feet and turned, admiring his handiwork, thinking briefly that it might be fun to invent a game where the object was to roll and bowl over a bunch of things…but, then, not everyone enjoyed throwing themselves into the mouth of death as much as he did. Grabbing a table, Ares fell upon one of the creatures, banging the edge of the metal over and over with all his strength, which even without his godly power was considerable, while the monster thrashed under the pink cloth. Finally, a head rolled free and the monster went limp.

Having taken note of the God of War's action, the women raced to gather up the tablecloths and flipping them like matadors, enticed the monsters closer, then whipped up the cloth, draping it and twisting it around the mindless creatures, one after the other. Hades, Hercules, Iolaus and Ares fell upon the confused creatures like madmen, tripping them, pounding, kicking, jumping, doing everything they could think of to knock the monsters into separate pieces. A metal arm flew to the side, a metal leg kicked vainly at the air, heads rolled.

But, it was far from quick or easy. Not being alive, the monsters didn't die easily. Not having any brain, the idea of surrender wasn't something that could ever occur to them. So, doing what they'd been designed to do, the heavy, violent things sought to wreak endless havoc, mindlessly striving to kill anything that moved.

Vastly amused, Strife had shown up to lean against a far wall, laughing uproariously he watched his fellow gods and goddesses struggle so hard to survive. He didn't know why they bothered. Even if the monsters didn't kill them, the poison would.

The noise of crashing metal, flying tables, screaming goddesses and grunting men filled the cavern, mingling with the skinny, anemic god's raucous hysteria. Iolaus used his newfound, temporary, strength to its full advantage. When a monster threatened one of the others, he'd jump between and hammer the creature, pounding it back, taking blow for blow, ripping off arms and heads with furious haste. But, much as he tried, he couldn't keep the others from being flung, one after another, against walls, the fountain or tables. "Dite was the first to fail to get back up again, but Artemis and Athena collapsed soon after.

When the fight droned on, Strife began to lose interest, stretching, yawning with boredom.

The men continued to hurl themselves at the tireless mechanical beings…or tried. Hades crumpled and Ares had to move quickly to pull his uncle out from under a foot that was coming down to crush his head.

But, finally, it was silent. Iolaus, Ares and Hercules stood heaving for breath over the scattered pieces of metal. Iolaus reflected that he had just as many bruises and scrapes as he'd had the last time he'd faced these monsters, and wondered if being a god was all it was cracked up to be.

"Ah shucks," Strife pouted. "You broke them all."

Coldly, his anger reignited by the sound of the hateful god's voice, Iolaus whirled and sent a stream of fire at the idiot, who having a shorter attention span than 'Dite and being a whole lot more stupid than Discord, had once again forgotten the hunter had the power to do so. Strife screamed and vanished just before the blast reached him, the fiery bolt blasting through the wall behind where he had been standing.

"Iolaus?" Hercules asked, his voice weak and unsteady as he shook his head, free finally of the drunken effects of the poison, well except for a really bad headache. He'd just seen the bolts of fire burst from his buddy's hands, but couldn't believe his eyes, and wondered if maybe he was still stinking drunk and hallucinating as well. The cavern spun and tilted around him as he tried to remain steady and strong…which reminded him, he seemed to have misplaced his strength somewhere over the course of the evening. Taking a breath to steady himself, wanting to know what in Tarturus was going on, he looked toward his buddy, figuring Iolaus would probably have the answers he was looking for. "What's…"

The blond warrior turned in time to grab his best friend in the whole world and ease him to the ground. There was a nasty gash over one of Herc's eyes, blood streaming down his face. One of his arms had also been badly gouged in the battle, but Iolaus wasn't noticing the superficial injuries. It was the confused, uncertain look in Hercules' eyes that caught at his heart. Holding Herc's head and shoulders against his chest, he murmured, "Easy, Hercules…it's going to be alright. I swear, you'll be alright."

Hercules' eyes lifted to find his friend's gaze, alarmed by the broken cadence of Iolaus' voice. Though he was trying to pretend all would be well, tears of despair glistened in Iolaus' eyes. He was scared, his heart pounding with the panic he was trying to hold inside. Leandra should have been back by now. Something had gone wrong, but then, didn't it always? Oh gods, what had happened to her? But, though he felt guilty about it, he knew he was mostly concerned because without the honey she was supposed to bring back, Hercules didn't stand a chance. Time was getting away from them.

Dawn couldn't be far away.

Reaching up a weak hand, Hercules brushed away a tear that had slid down onto Iolaus' cheek. "You never cry," the demigod whispered, then looked again into his buddy's eyes, "ever." Well, hardly ever, the demigod thought, not unless he thinks I'm in danger of kicking the bucket. Seeing the naked love in those brilliant blue eyes, the stark desperation and soul deep fear, he nodded, finally having understood his buddy's distress, then sighed, "I'm dying…."

"No," denied Iolaus, holding his friend tighter.

'Neither one of them has ever really been able to accept that death could hold any domain over them,' Ares thought, wondering where they'd ever gotten the idea that they were invincible. It wasn't as if they were gods…but, then, he reflected being undefeated could lead to a dangerous over abundance of self-confidence. Frowning a little, realizing with a trace of dark humour that the same thing could be said about him, he looked around at all the fallen gods and realized they'd all been just a touch too confident of their invincibility.

"'Bye, my friend," Hercules said weakly, wanting to do this right. It wasn't the sort of thing that you usually got a second chance at. He'd had the opportunity to observe the numerous ways Iolaus had tried to gasp out a touching, formal farewell over the years and had personally decided he liked the simple, straightforward leavetaking the best. Clean, simple…didn't use up too many words.

"No, Herc…I won't let you die. We'll beat this, I promise you!" Iolaus vowed, raging against the Fates.

For the first time in his life, he damned the fact that Hercules was a half god. If his buddy had been born a mere mortal, then he wouldn't be in this danger. Gods could save the lives of mortals, could bring them back from the dead even, if they wanted to…but they couldn't seem to work the same charm for themselves. Once a god was dead, he was dead. It was one of those mysteries that no one had ever explained. But, then, had Hercules been anyone or anything but Hercules, they wouldn't have been here in the first place, because 'Dite wouldn't have been his half-sister, and Iolaus wouldn't have gotten involved with the gods and been invited to the party in the first place, and….

Realizing he was beginning to babble, if only in the silence of his own mind, Iolaus forced himself back to focus on his friend, horrified by the increasingly confused and drifting look in his buddy's eyes.

Hercules could feel himself spinning into darkness, could feel an emptiness deep within. During the fight, he'd been shocked to find his strength was gone, but now, he only wondered vaguely what had happened, unable to concentrate...definitely beginning to drift.

Iolaus saw the blue eyes cloud as Herc faded away from him. "No!" he screamed hoarsely. "Hercules! Don't do this! Gods, Herc…fight back!" Wasn't that, after all, what Hercules always screamed at him when he was dying…and, most times, it seemed to work.

For a moment, the demigod's eyes came back to his best friend's, and sorrow flowed into them, a deep ache that he couldn't hold on, that there was nothing to fight, but most of all, filled with grief that he'd never see Iolaus again, that he was leaving his friend behind. Vaguely, he wondered why he hadn't trusted his great instincts when he'd questioned the wisdom of eating or drinking anything at this cursed party. But, that wasn't really the point now. Right now, he had to concentrate on parting forever from the best friend any man, or demigod, could ever have. Feeling guilty that he was letting Iolaus down, he sighed, "Sorry, Iolaus...can't…"

Iolaus shook him, desperate to keep Hercules from losing consciousness, from slipping away from him.

"NO!" the hunter cried out, obviously in utter denial of reality, "Fight, Herc…gods, please…."

But the demigod's eyes fluttered closed and he sagged in the hunter's arms. "Ah no," Iolaus sighed, bending his head over his friend's unconscious form, holding back tears as he held grimly onto his hope that Leandra would soon return with the miraculous honey. Obviously, the demigod either lacked his strength of will in being able to hold on to life, or the poison was a lot more deadly than anything Iolaus had ever had to 'fight!' back against.

As if in deliberate counterpoint to his rage against them, the Fates chose that moment for Discord to flash back, chortling with glee. "I found her!" she crowed as she took in the delightful sight before her, Iolaus kneeling, holding a dying Hercules in his arms. "So, you can forget any hope you might still hold in your puny little endlessly loyal mortal heart. Your pathetic, sneaky efforts to stop us just blew away. Say goodbye to your buddy, hero! It's over. I win." Sneering at him, she waved and vanished.

Iolaus stared at the space where she'd been for a long moment after she disappeared. And, then, silently, he began to shudder as the horrified acceptance of the hopelessness of Hercules' situation welled up from the depths of his soul.

"NOOOO!!!" he screamed with a mixture of rage and terrified frenzy, his voice rising like a tormented creature, caught in a trap it couldn't escape. Then, he slumped over his friend, uncontrollable sobs wracking his body, tears of grief and guilt spilling from his eyes onto Herc's still, pale face. He'd brought Hercules here, to this. For the sake of a stupid party, to preen as the 'guest of honour'. He'd killed his best friend. His chest heaved with his horror and hopelessness, his lips silently forming the words, 'I'm sorry, gods, Herc…oh gods, I'm sorry…' but, his throat was too tight, his loss too great to have the capacity for speech, surprising as that may be. Desolation wrapped her arms around him, rendering him oblivious to everything but the terrible reality that the friend in his arms was never going to wake up again.

Moved by an unexpected pity, surprised at himself, Ares knelt beside him, and placed a hand on the warrior's shoulder, trying to console him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "You've done all you could for us."

When Iolaus continued to sob as if his heart had shattered into little pieces, shuddering with his helplessness and grief, Ares wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "There's ambrosia in 'Dite's kitchen," he said quietly, even now the vengeful God of War, plotting the next campaign. "When we're gone, they'll leave you alone, too pleased with themselves to worry about a mortal. They'll enjoy your suffering. Eat the ambrosia, Iolaus. Then kill the little worms for me…and for Hercules. You'll be the next King of the Gods."

"I don't want to be a god," Iolaus choked out finally through his tears. "I just don't want Herc to die…I don't know what else to do…if Leandra has lost the honey, there's nothing I can do to save any of you." For a moment the grief which had overwhelmed him was shocked by a new shattering thought. If Discord had found her, and Leandra had not returned…what had happened to Leandra, and to Hercules' mother, Alcmene? Iolaus' eyes widened with a new horror, unable to accept that he'd put them in danger, that they, too, had been destroyed, all the pieces of his life shattered, beyond recovery.

"You tried," Ares replied, not understanding the reference to Leandra and the honey, but indifferent, knowing it didn't matter anymore, not to him anyway. He was relieved to find the disgusting panic he'd felt had gone, but sorrowed to know it meant he'd soon be unconscious himself. Being a god was great and it wasn't easy to let go. "You and Leandra both tried…and I'm grateful on behalf of all of us."

Dazed by the magnitude of his losses, Iolaus struggled to hold onto sanity. Then, the realization of what all this meant for the gods around him sank in, and his head bowed again in grief. Finally, "I'm sorry," Iolaus murmured, looking up then to meet Ares' gaze, realizing he meant it. The hunter had never wanted the gods to die, not any of them, with the possible exception of Hera. He'd just wanted them to leave Hercules alone. And, now, all those here were lost. It was inconceivable. "I'm so sorry."

Ares took a deep breath as he nodded, acknowledging the grief that he could see in the golden warrior's honest eyes. "You've always been a fine warrior, Iolaus," the god said quietly. "One that I've been proud to call my own, though we've rarely been civil to one another. Don't let this beat you." Gazing down at his unconscious half-brother in Iolaus' arms, he went on, his voice very soft. "He's lucky, lucky to have had someone like you by his side. I've envied him your friendship and courageous support no matter what came at the two of you, no matter what the challenge. He loves you, you know…always has. As much or more than you've always loved him."

Iolaus looked away, pressing his eyes closed against the tears that refused to quit spilling down his cheeks. Ares gazed at him a moment longer, then felt the dizziness flow over him. He rubbed his eyes, shook his head, but couldn't fight it off. Weakly, he slumped against the hunter, then slid unconscious to the ground, curled a little around Iolaus and the demigod in his arms.

* * *

Silent, Alcmene led Leandra back to the cottage and inside, she guided the distraught woman to a chair beside the kitchen table, fighting her instinct to make a comforting cup of tea. There really wasn't time for that. Going to the hearth, she held a piece of kindling to the glowing coals and when it flamed, she carried the tinder to a candle sitting on the table. Light sprang up, feeble, flickering, but enough to see her way around her kitchen.

Leandra tried to stem her tears, sniffing as she wiped them from her face. "I have to get back to Iolaus," she said softly. "I have to tell him…." Realizing what it all meant for the woman with her, and ever compassionate, Leandra shook her head sadly. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Alcmene. You must know what this means."

"I know that sorry excuse for a goddess is trying to kill my son," Alcmene replied, her voice cold with fury as she lifted a clay pot from a shelf. 'You only mess with me once,' the determined mother thought grimly, 'and then you learn your lesson: Don't mess with Alcmene.'

Coming back to the table, comfortable now that she was back in full command of the situation, she put it down in front of Leandra. "I emptied the hive sometime ago, but haven't needed to use much of the honey I took. I think there will be more than enough here to save them all."

Leandra stared at the clay vessel a moment, her lips parted in wonder. Then, eyes blazing with joy, she bounded to her feet and grasped the jar to her chest. She looked up at Alcmene, a wide smile on her face, astonished that they'd had this unexpected reprieve. But, then, she hadn't met Alcmene before and hadn't known that she'd find some way to make everything right, just like Iolaus always said she could.

"You'd better hurry," Alcmene said dryly, swallowing back the fear for her son's life that threatened to overwhelm her, consoling herself that Iolaus had not yet come back from any adventures smelling of woodsmoke and looking absolutely exhausted, despite also being almost deliriously happy for having saved the young Alcmene and her as yet unborn son.

Nodding, Leandra vanished from sight.

* * *

Iolaus looked down at the fallen God of War, feeling strangely, but genuinely, sorry as he reached out to stroke Ares' cheek. All the fighting, all the struggle…for nothing. All of it. Not just tonight, but all the other times as well. He lifted his head and looked around at the dying gods and goddesses. Zeus, who had always seemed so remote, so invincible. Aphrodite…gods, what would the world do without love in it? But, then, he knew didn't he…having experienced such a world a year ago tonight? Artemis, who'd watched over him with a benign eye as one of her hunters. Hades and Persephone, who'd now find themselves locked forever on the Other Side. Apollo and Cupid, always so boisterous and annoying, silent now and still. Demeter. Hermes. Hera. His eyes grew cold as he gazed at her, but then he looked away, too empty to feel the old hate. Heph, who'd been a friend, as much a friend as any of them, except 'Dite. Poseidon taken from his beloved seas forever. Ares…no love, no war…no passion in the world of any kind. Just strife and discord, fear…for those were the principal gods who remained.

Hercules. Iolaus brought his gaze back to his friend's face, stroked back the hair, and bent to kiss his buddy's forehead, as he knew Herc had done in the past when he was gravely ill or hurt. He wanted to do this right and, at this point, he was pretty convinced that Hercules was dying, as unbelievable as that might seem to be. No one understood how much they'd always meant to one another. The depth of what they shared, the linkage of their souls had held a mystery, even for them. All Iolaus knew was that he loved Hercules beyond words, beyond any way of expressing, except by giving everything he was, standing by Herc every single day, risking all that he was, his life a gift in return for all Herc had given him…meaning for his life, a reason to live, self-respect, dignity. Hope, when he'd had none. Friendship when he'd been alone and despised even by his own father. Love, though he'd never understood why.

He shuddered with the depth of his sorrow, dazed by it. He couldn't imagine life without Hercules…had never imagined such an impossibility could ever occur. Herc was supposed to have been immortal, or at least Iolaus had always hoped his friend would never die. It was Iolaus who was the mortal, who was supposed to be the vulnerable one, the one who would inevitably take a last breath some day. Not Hercules. Gods, never Hercules.

He thought, then, about the ambrosia and Ares' suggestion. No, he didn't want to be any kind of king, let alone King of the Gods. But, those two destroyers would pay. He'd find a way to kill them if it was the last thing he ever did. It would be his new purpose in life, the only reason he could think of for not giving up, for going on with life, such as it would be. Empty. Hopeless.

His head bowed, as he sat silently amidst the devastation, desperately holding onto Hercules as tightly as he could, until Herc finally went somewhere that Iolaus couldn't follow.

"Iolaus?" Leandra asked, dismayed at what she found when she flashed back to the cavern, not sure which was worse…the evidence of the battle, or the silent, still aftermath.

Surely, she couldn't be too late.

* * *

Startled, Iolaus looked up, blinking to clear his vision. "Leandra?" he whispered, confused for a moment having already relegated her to the Elysium Fields in his mind and now disconcerted to, happily, find his assumptions weren't true. But, the confusion only lasted a moment, and then he noticed the clay jar she held tightly in her arms.

"Am I too late?" she asked tremulously holding it out to him, like an offering.

Hastily lying Hercules on the floor, nestled closer to Ares than the Big Guy would ever have felt comfortable with given the choice, Iolaus leapt to his feet, eyes scanning the cavern to keep out a look out for the dismal duo as he raced to his grandmother's side.

"No," he responded quietly, afraid of somehow being overheard. "You're just in time!" Bending, he scooped up a silver spoon from the mess on the floor, left over from when all the tablecloths had been wrenched from the tables. "Come on, let's give 'em each a spoonful of honey…"

She sniggered, unable to help herself. "A spoonful of honey makes the medicine go down," she hummed, remembering how she's always gotten Skouros to take his castor oil.

"Yeah," grinned Iolaus, feeling as if the weight of the world had come off his shoulders, "but, this time, the honey is the medicine. Trust the gods to make sure even their medicine tastes good!"

A terminal optimist, Iolaus would have liked to think their troubles were over, but long years of experience and innumerable bruises numbering in the millions had taught him that things were rarely that easy. They could count on more trouble, that was a foregone conclusion. The only questions were how much and how soon. And how best to be prepared.

"Look, you start over here with Herc and Ares. Then, drag them over to the girls. I'll bring the others to you. It'll be easier to watch over them if they are all in one place," he explained quickly, pushing Leandra toward his friend, while he loped across the hall to hitch the God of the Forge over his shoulder. He was about to run back when he smacked his forehead and disappeared, reappearing by a crumpled 'Dite. Depositing her 'lover forever' beside her, Iolaus thought irreverently that the Goddess of Love would not be happy to know all her makeup had run and her hair was a mess. Shrugging, he vanished, to get Zeus and bring him back, then Poseidon, Apollo, Cupid, Demeter, Hermes, and last of all, admittedly reluctantly, Hera. What would have taken long minutes had only consumed seconds, and he dusted his hands after unceremoniously dumping Hera headfirst onto the floor.

"Hope you have a headache when you wake up," he mumbled, unrepentant.

Leandra was prying open jaws and sliding in spoonfuls of honey as quickly as she could, crawling from one fallen form to another. It was the prying open of jaws that took the time. "How long before it works?" she asked, looking up at Iolaus after having finally managed to lever honey into Zeus' mouth.

The warrior shrugged, the usual expression for 'how should I know?' and kept up a wary watch for trouble. He couldn't believe that Sprite and Discord wouldn't show up for a last gloat.

Well, after all, for all their faults, gods could be relied upon to act predictably when it least suited mortals, so Iolaus didn't have long to wait. The air shimmered, the usual harbringer of the gods for those who could see them at all, then coalesced into two figures garbed in black, one hysterical with rage and not a little fear given that the last thing they needed now was for the gods they'd tried to kill to actually live and be more than eager to take revenge, and the other spitting mad to have lost out on the opportunity of ruling Olympus. But, then, Discord was always more likely to keep her eye on the goal, as well as being a tad too ambitious for her own good, and Strife had a tendency to worry himself sick about reprisals. Maybe if either of them had a brain bigger than a toad, they'd have thought their way through things better, and gotten into trouble a little less often.

Nah.

At any rate, they arrived blasting. Iolaus had positioned himself between Leandra, and her charges, and the murderous menage a deux. Sending out his own blast of power, the place erupted with the sounds of warfare, with all the concomitant shouting, yelling, holes blown in rock, diving, spitting, cursing, hurled threats, promises of death and, well, you get the picture. Evading one blast by diving past the fountain, Iolaus ended up drenched in pink punch as the structure exploded around him, raining punch and chunks of wrought iron on his head. Rolling to his feet, he lashed out at Strife, the bolt sending the hapless god careening back into a wall, where he slumped, winded for the moment.

Discord had hoped to use this momentary lapse of attention to get to the main business, turning her furious gaze to Leandra…well, more specifically, to the pot of honey beside her. Winding up, she sent a burst of fire toward the honey, but Leandra, blissfully unaware of the attack, hauled the honey jar out of the way as she crawled toward her next patient, and the blast kicked up a few shards of rock and singed what had been a lovely tapestry designed carpet, but otherwise did no harm.

"Curse it!" snarled the evil emissary of destruction, winding up for another try. But, Iolaus had turned, aghast at how close it had been, and had already leveled a blast her way, slamming her back against the wall. Iolaus paced toward her as he blazed away, moving in for a little close quarter combat. Blowing away people with bursts of energy was a blast in its own way, but the warrior preferred more old-fashioned means of beating his enemies to a pulp. It's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, they say, and this hound of Artemis had learned old lessons well. He launched himself into a foot first leap, connecting solidly with Discord's solar plexis as she levered herself back from the wall, pushing her right back into it again with a vengence. Dropping gracefully to his feet, as only Iolaus could, the skirts of his kimono whirled as he turned with another kick to her jaw, snapping her head back.

But, she was a goddess after all, unimpressed, relatively uninjured and certainly undaunted by all these acrobatic maneuvers. Beyond fury, she backhanded him and sent the warrior flying back across the hall, just in time, however unintentionally, to block a blast the recovered Strife had aimed at the close packed bodies of gods and goddesses.

"OOOmmmpphhh!" Iolaus groaned as he absorbed the hit, amazed to still be standing. 'Being a god has a lot to recommend for itself,' he thought distractedly as he turned and leveled a stream of power back at Strife. Realizing his usual tendency to act first and think second, which was what had driven him straight at Discord, had almost ended up typically…that is, disastrously…he gritted his teeth and held his ground, pivoting between his frenzied foes. 'Boring,' he thought, 'definitely boring.'

Iolaus just wasn't given to standing in one place for very long.

"Come on, sleepyheads, wakey, wakey," he mumbled under his breath, wondering how long he could hold off the denizens of despair. He had no idea exactly what time it was, but his well-honed, bone-deep, bred in the blood, hunter's instincts told him it couldn't be far from dawn.

"I'm finished," Leandra called out from somewhere behind him.

"Great!" he called back, the elation of impending victory giving him new determination to hold out long enough for at least one god to recover enough to handle these two goons. For once, he found himself hoping that Ares would be the first to wake up. An enraged and vengeful God of War was something to behold, it really was…not that many ever saw such a sight and lived to tell the tale. Giggling a little, perhaps just a teeny bit hysterically, Iolaus wondered if he'd ever have occasion again to hope that the God of War would show up to wreak havoc.

Leandra joined him in the exercise of holding back the, by now, very desperate partycrashers. Side by side, attractive, fair-haired, grandmother and grandson flung bolts of power at their adversaries, united in a joint cause for justice, heedless of their own danger, courageous and selfless, determined…and, it must be admitted, they were enjoying themselves hugely.

"Cool!" Iolaus hooted in congratulation when his grandmother sent Strife flipping backwards to smack against the cavern wall.

"I'm not just a pretty face!" smirked Leandra, delicately blowing at her fingertips.

"No, grandma, you're a whole lot more than that," Iolaus reflected appreciatively, with a warm smile. Which of course, cost him, when he was blindsided by a blast from Discord.

"Pay attention, Iolaus," Leandra lectured fondly as she wheeled to blast the little witch right back.

Only, nothing happened.

Leandra looked at her hands, then at Iolaus, her eyes wide with horrified awareness of their sudden vulnerability. Glancing back hurriedly, desperately hoping for rescue, she could see that none of the crumpled forms had moved a muscle.

It was dawn…and they were on their own.

"Get behind me," Iolaus ordered sharply, having swiftly realized the game was up. What to do? What to do? If the bad guys focused on just getting the job done, they could still possibly kill the helpless gods.

Discord, having also realized the score, had lowered her hands to…you guessed it, gloat. "You lose, Shorty, you and your girlfriend. They're still down, you're out of juice, and we're still standing."

Unable to resist, Iolaus cocked his head at Strife, one brow raised sardonically. Frowning, Discord followed his gaze and rolled her eyes. Her so-called co-ruler was lying in a distinctly undignified sprawl, head down and legs akimbo against the cavern wall. "Well, one of you is still standing," Iolaus taunted.

Leandra had moved behind Iolaus, hunched a little now in what could only be described as absolute terror. Wringing her hands, she wondered how much time they might have left before Discord pulped them. "Iolaus, if we're about to die, I want you to know how proud I am of you…you're every Grandmother's dream grandson, handsome, brave, kind, noble. Having you in my life has been a gift…."

Iolaus' eyes misted a little from the pain of his sentimental heart twisting in his chest. Bless her. She was trying to say 'good-bye', and doing a pretty good job of it, too. But, he couldn't let her give up hope. He'd protect her, or would try, so long as he drew breath. "Don't worry," he replied as he kept his eyes on Discord, wondering why she hadn't already fried them, "there's always hope." Well, that's what Herc always said, and so far, his buddy had always been right.

"HOPE?" sneered Discord, sauntering toward him. "HOPE? You are one crazy little mortal if you think you are going to walk outta here."

"Look who's calling who 'little'," Iolaus taunted back, wanting to feed her anger, keep her distracted from wasting the still helpless gods, goddesses and the best friend any mortal ever had…not to mention, his spunky grandmother.

Discord just gave him an up-down glare as she shook her head and licked her lips. He really did look good in that kimono…such a shame to have to waste him. But, she wanted to take her time, make him suffer…and how better to make him suffer than show him all his efforts had been in vain. Almost idly, her gaze roamed the sprawled bodies behind the two mortals…as brave as he was, Iolaus was, admittedly, too small to shield them all with his slender frame. Well, if one wanted to rule, one first had to remove the existing King. Her arm lashed out and she sent a bolt directly at Zeus, the power glowing incandescent around his still form.

"What? NO!" shouted Iolaus, pivoting to stare down at the King of the Gods, then smiled slowly, letting out a panicked breath when he saw the god's chest still rising and falling. Turning back to Discord, he grinned. "Maybe the powers are the first to go…but it looks like they're the first thing to come back, too. It's done, Discord…it's too late. You can't kill them now. You haven't the power."

Appalled, Discord stared for a moment at the recumbent Zeus, but then the fury blazed back into her eyes. "You've ruined EVERYTHING!" she screamed at Iolaus, knowing it was indeed over and not wanting to spend a single moment contemplating what the punishment would be…not before she had the satisfaction of vengence, anyway.

Correctly reading the look of murder in her eyes, Iolaus sidled away from the clustered bodies of gods, drawing her attention away from his only too vulnerable grandmother. He had to keep Discord focused on him, had to hold her attention, and Strife's, too, if he ever woke up, which Iolaus devoutly hoped he wouldn't.

But, the Fates weren't done giving him a hard time yet, having been miffed at his fury with them earlier. After all, they'd always been quite good to him, spinning extra bits of gold thread, tying broken pieces together delicately, weaving inordinately complicated patterns just to give some credible rationale to the fact that he seemed to be impossible to kill off definitively. He owed them a paeon of endless gratitude and it was unacceptable that he turn on them in anger at the first sign of a little setback.

So, they woke Strife up.

The spindly god groaned as he held his head and awkwardly disentangled his limps, dragging his legs down from the wall and rolling onto an elbow as he looked blearily around the room. "What's happenin'?" he drawled, as ever trying to be 'cool' and failing.

Discord flashed a glance toward him then returned her glare to Iolaus, "The honey worked," she snarled.

"Huh? WHAT?" screamed the god as he sprang to his feet, trembling as he looked around as if expecting angry gods to descend upon him momentarily. "What're we going to do?" he howled, wringing his hands.

"We're going to get even," Discord snapped, lashing out a blast of energy toward the mortal who had fouled it all up. Somehow, in her angry distraction, she'd forgotten she'd wanted to torture him, killing him a little at a time. Now, she just wanted to fry him and watch him sizzle.

Iolaus yelled and leapt to the side, further away still from those he was determined to protect. Leandra wasn't the only one these two could still seriously hurt. Hercules could take a lot of abuse and keep on ticking, but the combined power of two gods might be more than even his steadfast heart could endure. Rolling, Iolaus came back up, lightly poised on the balls of his feet, ready to move again as soon as necessary.

Hissing with frustration, Discord moved toward him, Strife backing toward her until they were both aligned in their common cause of making this mortal pay for having gotten in their way. Blast after blast was leveled at Iolaus, as he dodged, dove, rolled, ducked, leapt, spun and whirled away from one after another. All that time in the east had been well spent. He'd learned to stay loose, not to anticipate but wait so that he moved only at the last moment, only when he needed to, and kept moving in unpredictable ways and directions so that they couldn't anticipate where he'd be next.

However, much as the long robe was flattering in the extreme, it wasn't as utilitarian as his usual sturdy leather pants and scruffy vest. One blast caught the hem as he flipped away, setting it afire, and he lost precious seconds having to roll an extra time or two to extinguish the fire. Leandra had screamed at the sight of the flames, regrettably reminding the two miserable excuses for gods that there was another mortal in the room that they had a grudge against.

Still, he was the principal target, and for once they held their attention on the job at hand. He'd moved to the far end of the cavern by that time, almost directly opposite to the unconscious gods, goddesses, demigod and terrified mortal grandmother. But, he was running out of space and time. Having rolled unintentionally too close to the wall, he'd lost maneuvering room, but he came back to his feet, ready to keep up the distraction as long as possible. Panting, sweat streaming down his face, he was sorely missing the divine attributes he'd enjoyed only moments before. Dodging thunderbolts was hard work!

It was only a matter of time, unfortunately. They were gods, and even if they were really bad shots, they couldn't miss forever, not with both of them shooting at him. And, so it was, he zigged when he should have zagged and one blast caught him…not directly. That quite likely would have fried him, but it grazed him badly as he twisted away, slamming him back hard into the wall, driving the air from his lungs. Stunned, he hung there a moment, then trying not to moan from the pain that burned along his side, he crumpled to the floor, before struggling weakly to regain his feet.

"Oh no!" cried Leandra, her hands coming to her lips, tears filling her eyes. She wanted to turn away, didn't want to see what would happen next, but she couldn't. This might be the last moment when she could gaze upon her still living grandson and she couldn't tear her eyes away. He was so good, so brave, so selfless, so determined…and she was so proud of him, loved him so much…but, then, she'd already said that. At least he knew how she felt, and she'd try to hang onto that memory for the few seconds she had left before they turned around and fried her, too.

Blowing out a satisfied breath, Discord turned to a preening Strife and ordered, "You take out the dishwater blond while I finish Goldilocks!"

"You got it!" Strife chortled as he turned, one arm already rising to deal the death blow, and then…froze. He wanted to scream, but the breath came out in a terrified wheeze as his arm continued to rise, the blast he couldn't stop shooting into the ceiling directly above him.

Turning away, Discord hadn't noticed Strife's horrified reaction when he turned and found himself staring into the dark, flashing, furious and oh so wide awake eyes of the God of War who had moved to stand between the miscreants and Leandra, shielding her with his proud, glorious body.

No, Discord didn't notice any of that as she turned, a cruel, gloating smile on her twisted lips, her eyes cold and hard, the thrill of anticipation of the kill filling her with excitement…only to find herself confronted by the King of the Gods who'd flashed into place between her and the fallen hero.

"Uh oh," she muttered, lowering her arm.

Iolaus, having seen the cavalry arrive had given up trying to struggle up onto his feet for a protracted death scene, and had simply collapsed back onto the ground.

It was at that moment that a sizable chunk of the ceiling, having been loosened by Strife's bolt of energy, dropped with unerring accuracy to crash upon the heads of the losing side. They shut their eyes against the dust, glad of the excuse not to have to stare any longer into the faces of retribution, standing quietly, shoulders slumped, their once proud black leather now covered in dismal gray dust.

"You sneaky, sniveling, incompetent, stupid excuses for gods," Ares raged, his voice rising in furious anger as he moved with the deliberation of a hunting panther toward them. "Do you know how much I'm going to enjoy TEARING YOU APART!"

"Enough theatrics, Ares," Zeus snapped, though his voice, too, thundered with anger. "They will face us in the Hall of Judgment and we will collectively determine the appropriate punishment."

Strife started to whimper. Discord rolled her eyes and blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. Sometimes, she was sorry about the 'no kill' rule. Death, she suspected, would be a whole lot more preferable than what awaited now.

Raising an imperious arm, Zeus commanded, "Go now, to the Hall, and await your fate. Don't bother trying to run. There is nowhere above, on, or below this earth that you can hide from us. Contemplate the error of your ways and prepare yourselves for judgment."

Nodding dismally, they silently vanished from sight. Ah well, it had been worth trying. And, it had almost worked, too. Who knew that Aphrodite had invited those miserable mortals to the party. Which was, to say at the very least, humiliating. Mortals had made the list to the 'event of the year' and they hadn't. They'd never live it down, never…and never is a very, very long time.

Hercules moaned as he recovered consciousness and rolled onto his side, looking around the room, trying to figure out why he was on the floor…and why his head ached so badly, not to mention having the taste of the whole Spartan army, or their boots anyway, in his mouth. Licking his lips, catching the taste of honey, he frowned, wondering whimsically why the Spartan Army had been marching through honeycomb. But, his discomforts paled at the sight of destruction that had occurred in the hall. What a mess. He heard someone crying softly and looked up to see Leandra, tears rolling down her face, as she stared at something across the hall. The demigod's eyes followed her gaze, then froze, along with his heart. It was a good thing he had a hero's heart, one that was made stronger by divine blood, given the number of times it froze in horror every time he saw his partner crumpled and still.

"Iolaus," he whispered, then shoved himself to his feet as he bounded across the cavern, slipping and sliding on the debris he failed to successfully leapt over…there was just too much of it…the skirts of his robe rising behind him, showing off a good deal more than his ankles. "IOLAUS!" he cried, skidding to his knees.

His anguished cry alerted the others to the fact that perhaps there was someone they should be concerned about, though it was an unusual notion for them, being gods and goddesses after all, and mostly just concerned about themselves. But, Iolaus had saved them after all, so he warranted a modicum of passing attention at least.

By then, Hercules was, as was his wont, tenderly turning his brother of the heart over onto his back and lifting him in one oh so strong arm, to gently brush his fingertips across the hunter's cheek and then push back the unruly curls. He didn't even have to think about what he was doing, he'd had so much practice with these particular moves.

"Iolaus?" he murmured, his voice shaky, "come on buddy, you're scaring me."

Now, Iolaus never could stand the idea of Hercules being scared. Well, think about it, if the guy who tells you that there is always hope, and who is, so far at least, undefeated, whispers in a broken voice that he's scared, well, you know that something's gotta be wrong. And, that wouldn't do, wouldn't do at all. Herc was everyman's hero. He couldn't be scared, not about anything, or he'd lose credibility. So, when Iolaus heard those words, his soul-deep commitment to protecting Hercules, including his buddy's strong, resolute, demigod image, overcame whatever trauma he'd experienced to allow him to flutter his lids and reassure his best friend.

By the time Iolaus fluttered his lids this time, the 'everyone who's anyone' of Olympus was gathered around, using up a lot of the air in that part of the cavern…oh, and his grandmother was there, too.

He blinked, a little dazedly, because, after all, he'd been blasted by not one, but two, gods. By rights, he should have been dead, but the Fates had gotten over their paroxysm of annoyance and strengthen the gold thread in time…good thing Clothos always kept some spare gold thread in her pocket, just in case!

"Iolaus?" Hercules murmured again, daring to hope his best friend was going to live, and began wondering just how much tender care he was going to need, and how hard it would be to keep him in bed long enough to recover this time.

"Herc?" Iolaus responded, his gaze finally clearing, but the feel of that strong arm around his shoulders was all the clue he'd really needed. The hunter grinned then, his face lighting up as if the sun had dawned just for him. "You're okay!"

"Uh huh," Hercules assured him, then sighed as he lightly restrained the hunter who was already wiggling and struggling to get out of his grip and sit up on his own. It was always the same thing…Iolaus trying to be stalwart and brave, denying his injuries, when he should just lie back quietly and rest before he collapsed. "You should just lie back quietly and rest before you collapse, my friend," Hercules tried to soothe him.

"Why?" Iolaus asked, direct as always. No beating around the bush for him. When he had something to say, which was most of the time, he just came out and said it. He'd never considered the idea that he might only have a certain number of words he could use in life and so he used them all the time, profligately even. But, this time, a single word was enough. Still, being Iolaus, he just had to add more. "I'm fine, really, trust me…don't worry so much." When Hercules still held him firmly, his mercurial nature took him from offering warm reassurance to irritation. "Would you let go of me! I said I'm fine!"

Stung, only having been trying to show his very natural concern, not to say love for a man who meant more to him that life itself, Hercules released his grip and let Iolaus fall back onto the floor with a bit of a clunk.

"Oww," complained the hunter as he came up on one elbow. "You never do things by halves, Hercules, do you. No gray areas for you, all black or white. I say let go, and do you simply help me to sit up, no, you let go. Thanks a heap, buddy."

The irritated whining was like music to the demigod's ears, almost as good as hearing Iolaus declare he was hungry. It meant he really was okay, not just trying to be brave, hiding injuries that would only worsen with time. "You're really okay!" the demigod gushed, pulling Iolaus into a delighted hug that very nearly crushed the hapless hunter to death.

"Oommpphhh!" groaned Iolaus, then gave up and hugged his buddy back. Glad of the excuse actually. For a while there, he'd been a little worried. But, he shouldn't have worried. Like Herc always said, there's always hope. He'd have to remember that the next time Hercules was on the edge of expiring and not get so worked up about it.

"Perhaps you should let the man breathe, son," Zeus observed, wise as ever, or pretending to be.

"What? Oh…yeah," replied the somewhat embarrassed demigod as he loosened the deathgrip he had on his partner. You'd think, after all these years, he'd remember not to squeeze quite so hard. But, emotions are funny things and they can cloud your judgment. The gods knew, he'd learned that lesson from Iolaus often enough!

"Are you SURE you're all right, Sweetcheeks," 'Dite demanded, a worried frown on her face. Not having yet seen a mirror, she was still more concerned about Iolaus than her looks, which admittedly were not up to par.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure," Iolaus replied, getting to his feet, wincing a little.

"What, oh no, you're hurt!" the Goddess of Love exclaimed when she saw the almost reflexive wincing expression of a man who had been smashed hard against a rock wall, and that had been only the last catastrophic blow he'd taken during the long night that had just, finally, ended.

"He's hurt?" Ares repeated, frowning darkly as he shouldered his way past Apollo, Cupid, Hermes, Demeter, Poseidon…well, you get the picture. "What do you mean he's hurt? He said he's fine."

"I am fine," Iolaus protested as both Zeus and Hercules began prodding and poking to make sure nothing was broken, pushing them away.

"Maybe we should call Aesclepius?" Artemis suggested to Athena, while Hera, perhaps still suffering a lingering influence from the poison, rubbed her aching head and simply conjured up a bed with piles of goosedown pillows and quilts that virtually hid the diminutive hunter from view.

Flopping around on the soft mattress, Iolaus finally worked his way to the side, all the way protesting ever more loudly, "I'm fine…I tell you, I'm FINE!"

By then, Ares had arrived by the side of the bed and he too proceeded to satisfy himself as to the veracity of the warrior's words. Iolaus fended him off, beginning to feel harried and not a little huffy. "Leave me alone…I'm fine."

'I'll bet you're hungry, though,' thought Demeter, approvingly…she was, after all, Goddess of the Harvest. She'd heard about this friend of Hercules, though she'd never met him before last evening, and she'd heard he could never get enough to eat. A haunch of roasted boar appeared in one of his hands, while a frothy mug of ale appeared in his other hand.

"Finally," Iolaus sighed, delighted, as he bit into the boarmeat, mumbling, "someone who understands the priorities in life! I love you!"

Secretly a little touched by his gushing gratitude, Demeter merely raised an austere brow as she looked around at the others and said, "He's fine."

Snickering, Iolaus nudged Hercules in the ribs, the complicated combination of impish look, snicker and elbow his non-verbal message for, 'Told you!' Then, noticing Leandra had made her way through the crowd, he leaned forward to kiss his grandmother gently on the cheek. "Thanks," he whispered sincerely. "I could never have done it without you."

"Maybe," she murmured back, as she threw her arms around his neck to hold him close, spilling the ale and causing him to drop the haunch of boar, the better to hug her back. "But, I know you saved all of us. I am so very proud of you, Iolaus…you'll always be my hero!"

He swallowed hard then, and blinked, his face unconsciously revealing how very much that meant to him. There was silence for a moment, but then the gods and goddesses, as well as a certain demigod, all having hearing far more acute than any mortal and therefore having heard every word she'd said…well, they all grinned widely, then cheered loudly as they applauded.

For today, at least, he was their hero, too.

* * *

Having finally noticed the mess in the hall, and with a horrific sense of self perception suggesting that she couldn't look a whole lot better, 'Dite gave a little shriek, "Gods, what a mess!" Waving a hand imperiously, she transformed herself, and then the detritus of the battles back into the delightful ambiance of the evening before, music again filling the candlelit hall, all trace of melted bronze cat and chopped up mechanical men banished to Heph's forge. He could fix them all later.

Goblets of (new, freshly conjured, untainted) punch appeared in everyone's hand. Aphrodite lifted hers toward the two mortals. "I'd meant to give this speech earlier," she said, with a meaningful glance at Hercules…this time, it was HER turn to give a speech, "but better late than never. Leandra, Iolaus, my husband, Hephaestus, and I invited you as our guests of honour to the celebration of our first anniversary of bliss, because we would never have realized our love for one another had the two of you not brought us together. We owe you a debt of gratitude for that. Which, by the way, Iolaus, you never have claimed and Heph did tell you that you could have any weapon you wanted. But, I digress. Now, we owe you both for more than just last year. We owe you for next year, too…and all the years after that. You two are really amazing, you know that?" Saluting them, she finished, "To Leandra and Iolaus, the most bitchin' mortals any of us will ever be lucky enough to call our friends!"

Tossing back the punch, she threw the goblet against the wall and shouted, "Now, let's PARTY!"

It turned out that it really was the 'event of the year'… actually, it came to be known as the 'event of the millenium'. All of the partygoers had good reason to celebrate, nothing quite like almost dying to give a god or goddess the desire to rock. And, now, they also had a topic of conversation to add spice to the affair.

"So, what do you think we should do to them?" Apollo asked Artemis, his eyes dancing in gleeful anticipation of dastardly deeds.

"String 'em up like a buck to age…for at least a thousand years," the Goddess of the Hunt replied bluntly, meaning it.

"I want to fry them," Ares snarled, his eyes alight as he imagined that satisfying moment.

"No killing," Athena reminded him sagely.

"Should be some exceptions to prove the rule," her brother retorted.

"It's a thought," mused Zeus, rubbing his chin as if he was actually considering it, but he was just tormenting Ares with false hope.

"Hmmm," reflected Hera, with her 'cat who's got the cream' expression, "we could boil them in oil for a century or two."

"I could make them file all the scrolls in the Olympian Library," Athena mused. "That would take at least ten thousand years."

"Only one problem with that," Hermes felt constrained to point out as Olympus' official purveyor of the written word. "I don't think either of them is smart enough to know how to read."

"I have a few more boulders that could be rolled up a hill that never ends." Hades offered sardonically.

"Oh Hades," Persephone sighed, gazing up at him adoringly, "you're so clever."

Demeter rolled her eyes wearily. What the girl saw in him was beyond her. "They could be in charge of spreading manure over all my fields…which is most of Greece, all that part that's not covered with mountains," she suggested.

"Once wouldn't be punishment enough," Cupid reflected, wrinkling his delicate nose at the malodorous image.

"Who said anything about once?" Demeter challenged. "You young gods, always making assumptions. No imagination."

"Oh, I don't know…I could shoot arrows at both of them, and we could watch their reactions when the spell wears off," Cupid drawled with an impish grin.

"And, by then, I could have forged chains around them to bind them together…they deserve each other," Hephaestus speculated thoughtfully.

"I'd just like to see them try to breathe under water while a serpent tried to swallow them," Poseidon asserted in his rich, rolling baritone.

"So, waddya think, Pops?" Aphrodite asked her father, knowing he'd have the final say.

Zeus gazed at them each in turn for a long moment, "I say we do it all…oh, but Ares, you can only sizzle them a little…but as often as you'd like."

"Do you think that's punishment enough, Iolaus?" Hercules asked his buddy, one arm looped lightly over his friend's shoulders.'

"Nope…but it's a start," Iolaus replied, stuffing a piece of cheese in his mouth.

Leandra had just looked at them all with wide eyes, not sure she could believe what she was hearing…but then she laughed gaily until tears rolled down her face.

* * *

Epilogue:

Hercules and Iolaus, along with Leandra, had decided to head to Thebes after they'd left the party to assure Alcmene that everything had turned out just fine. Of course, she already knew it must have…Iolaus not having arrived smelling of smoke and looking tired but happy. Which, hopefully he wouldn't do for a very long time yet.

So, they were lounging comfortably around the table in the kitchen, as Alcmene fussed with loading the table with everything she could think of to fill the bottomless pit that masqueraded as the hunter's stomach.

"So, how did the two of you enjoy having the powers of a god," she asked, having heard the details of the adventure, and smiling in benign satisfaction at the punishment that was even now being suffered by those two would be assassins.

"It was…terrifying. And exhilarating," Leandra replied, looking over at Iolaus, remembering the fun they'd had blasting away at the two terrible creatures that had almost destroyed more than anyone could really imagine.

"Really?" asked Hercules, his gaze shifting to his friend. Gods, he wished he could have seen it all…Iolaus blasting away like the best of them! 'Best', of course, being a relative term.

"Well," Iolaus temporized, "yeah. There are definite advantages to limitless strength, the ability to disappear and appear anywhere you want, not to mention being able to lob thunderbolts. Now, that's pretty cool."

"Sorry it didn't last?" Hercules asked, wondering if Iolaus wished the powers had been permanent.

His buddy scrunched up his face a little as he thought about it, and scratched his chin. "Well, I don't need strength, 'cause I've got you. And, thunderbolts get a little dull after a while. No challenge. No variety. Disappearing, though…" he nodded to himself, "that's pretty neat. Would sure save on boot leather."

They all laughed comfortably, knowing that Iolaus had no desire to ever be a god, any more than he ever wanted to be a king. For all his latent insecurities, when it came right down to it, he pretty much liked his life the way it was. Now, if they'd asked him if he'd've liked to be immortal, well, his response might have been different. But, no one asked.

Alcmene had returned to the fire to fill the pot of tea with boiling water from the kettle, and on the way back, her attention was caught by something she saw outside in the meadow. Frowning, she moved closer to the window, peering out.

Then, sighing, she turned back to her son. It was so hard to stay in perfect command of things when Hercules was forever bringing unexpected company home.

"Hercules, dear, what is a two-headed, twenty-foot high giant doing in the meadow?" she asked, sweetly with a pained smile.

The two heroes looked up, and then grinned at each other. "That's just Cybrus, Mother," Hercules explained.

"Yeah," confirmed the hunter, having risen to peer out the window. Catching the eye of the right-sided head, he waved.

"I see," Alcmene replied. "And, he's come to visit because…."

"I suspect Artemis has sent him to force a second Queen Bee, and to take a small swarm back to Olympus with him. Cybrus was in charge of security for the bees in Demeter's garden and, well, I don't think my sister, or Demeter for that matter," he reflected with a shudder, picturing that goddess' reaction to an errant gardener, "would have been all that pleased that he'd been so badly influenced by Iolaus…."

"Hey," Iolaus objected, rounding on his friend, "I just introduced him to the joys of fishing. It's not my fault if Demeter never gives the poor guys any time off and they have to sneak down to the creek every once in a while!"

Chuckling, Hercules just shook his head. "Well, at any rate, she must have sent him so that she could build up a new set of hives."

"Yeah, and it would have been a great reason to get away from Demeter's wrath," Iolaus reflected, his face a little contorted as he tried to reconcile that image with his memory of Demeter's lascivious appraisal of his body the other night, shivered and gave up, deciding he didn't want to think about it.

"Well, dears, that's fine," Alcmene said comfortably to her son and the son of her heart, but then she frowned a little. "I'm very happy to be able to share what I have, but I wish I would have had some warning. Iolaus has eaten just about all the food I have in the house at the moment, and I have absolutely no idea what Cybrus' tastes are…what do you feed a two-headed giant, anyway?"

"Well, Left likes cinnamon cake," Iolaus replied in all seriousness as he listed two of his absolute favourites, "and Right prefers honey frosting…"

Alcmene rolled her eyes and sighed in a long-suffering but noble manner as she turned toward her kitchen, the universal non-verbal message for 'a mother's work is never done!'

Leandra, a grandmother after all, and therefore able to indulge a grandson's impish behaviour, giggled with delight.

Finis