Title: Welcome to *My* World
Author: Christine
Series: Xena/Hercules
Rating: R
Codes: A/J and C/S
Archive: AJCS
Disclaimer: Well, hell, if I did own them would I be here writing stories? Not just no, but hell no.
Feedback: Yes please.
Warning: Major silliness. In other words, don't drink or eat anything while reading this. Unless you like cleaning up your keyboard.
Author's Note: 1. This is in response to my own challenge about putting the guys in our everyday situations.
2. Most of the stuff in this story is real from my job. Course, I have changed bits here and there to conform to the story's ::snort:: plot.
Acknowledgements: I wish to thank Hergerbabe for betaing this silly, silly story.
Summary: My day at work changes when the boys stop by.
It was a normal day at the base exchange. I was at my register, standing around waiting for the pig-headed, holier than thou, military customers to come through my line. When what to my little ears did I hear? My fellow sales associate yelling for security.
Now, being the nosy young woman I am, I turned around at the commotion. As I got a good look at who was creating all the chaos, my big, brown eyes grew wide. Standing there, arguing with the little woman at the Greeter's Stand, was Ares, Strife, Cupid and Joxer.
Looking around, I noticed none of my co-workers knew who they were. So, being the only one at the exchange who did, I turned off my light and came from round the register. I made my way over to Melissa (no this ain't her name) and asked her what all the racket was for. My reason for acting like a supervisor when all I really was, was an underpaid peon? Simple really. Our leader, Milly (no damnit, this ain't really her name either) was on her three hour long break.
The lucky old fart.
Anyway, knowing what I did about these four men...uh, gods and mortal, I politely asked, "What the frigging heck is going on here!?" (in this store I can't curse cause there are so many damn bible thumpers that work here, I think I'd give them a massive coronary if I did)
Before Melissa could reply, Ares stood straight up and bellowed, "She told *us* we couldn't come in here if we didn't have a military ID card!"
After checking on the few ancient looking retirees who passed out and waiting for my ears to quit ringing, I politely (yeah, we have to remain polite in times of stress so we don't kill any of the customers) pulled Melissa away from the entourage of angry gods and mortal ::fans self with hand:: (damn, I *wish* this would really happen) and told her I'd sign them in.
Why you ask. Simple really. I have a dependent ID card, so there.
Where was I? Ah, yes.
So, after signing the four hot and studly guys in, I told one of my fellow cashiers that I was going to be showing these 'foreign military men' (eh, so I exaggerated a bit. They *are* foreign and Ares might as well be from some branch of service) around the store. She waved me off and I could have sworn I heard her say, "Lucky dog."
I figured I'd show them the Power Zone first. (This be what we call the stereo department) So, as we turned left at the soda machine, I led my tasty treats towards stereo. Behind me I could hear Strife saying, "Oo! Unc, look! Stereos!"
I rolled my eyes and refrained from saying, "Well, duh. Why do you think they call it the stereo department?" Instead I said, "Uh huh."
Strolling through the aisles, I felt like a tour guide. All I needed was a microphone and a few people taking snapshots. I walked down each aisle pointing stuff out, feeling like a grade school teacher when I had to tell Cupid not to touch the pretty glowing wires.
Course, he didn't listen and now the room smelt of burnt feathers. Well, I did try telling the manager that that wire didn't look right, but ol' iron britches wouldn't listen.
As we went pass the row of T.V.'s on display, I casually looked behind me and found I had lost one of my followers. Before I could ask where Strife went, the room was suddenly filled with heavy metal music blasting on high volume from one of the stereos on display. Poking my fingers in my ears, I ran over to that aisle and kicked Strife in the shins before turning the stereo off.
I managed to duck before I got hit with a power ball, but the poor 32' inch Sony Vega would never be the same. Before Ares could zap his nummy looking nephew, Maranda (if you haven't realized these names are fake yet, perhaps you should see my first insight up top) walked over to us and cried, "What have you done!?"
I turned around to see what my 'friends' would do, but the dip shits had turned their backs on me and pretended to look at the merchandise around us. Sighing, I turned back towards Maranda and smiled a cheesy smile. "Sorry about this. Tell Kit (this is the last time I tell you that this ain't their names) these fine gentleman (I had to hold back a giggle over that lie) will be paying for all the damage done here."
Eyeing my new found friends and I used the term loosely now that they tried to get me into trouble, Maranda went off to do just that. Wiping my forehead and upper lip of sweat, I growled, "Alright, boys. Onto the music section."
I got a big 'woohoo!' out of that. So, off we went towards the music. We didn't have a super duper huge section of CDs, but damn if they weren't cheaper then out in town. Can you believe that you gotta pay almost twenty dollars for a metallic disk that you can get fifty of them blank for the same price? That's one reason why I shopped here at the base exchange, the CDs only cost twelve ninety-five and we don't have to pay tax.
Um, yeah. I should probably get back on track. I tend to do that. I'll begin talking and then suddenly bring something else up. Like I'm doing now. ::sigh:: I'm telling you, these guys were getting on my last nerve.
Anyway, after spending an hour telling Ares he couldn't use the CDs in battle unless he bought them first, unless of course he was thinking of using the Britney Spears CDs. I'd have been overjoyed to let him have those for free. But I digress. So, I yanked my 'willing' comrades towards the American Greeting card section next.
Ah, lemme let you in on a little secret. For future reference, never show Strife the greeting cards. Why? I'm glad you asked. Because I spent the next ten minutes trying to calm the greeting card vendor down by telling her they'd pay for the damage. I was about ready to kick her in her prissy pants when she snubbed me and walked off in a huff. Being the lady that I am (ya'll may be laughing now, but I know where some of you live ::glares at Hergerbabe::) I just balled my hands up into fists and growled till I scared Joxer away from me and towards Ares. Even Ares backed off a bit.
Dodging the greeting cards come paper airplanes, I shuffled off towards the magazine rack. Well, now I know I really shouldn't have been too surprised, but I heaved a major sigh when I turned around and found Ares and Strife thumbing through the Playboys. We used to carry more detailed porn mags, but the old as dinosaur shit retirees whined and complained about our youth being corrupted, so we now only carry the Playboys.
Why only Playboys? Cause the only thing in those magazines are pictures of naked chicks. I personally don't find a plain old naked person very alluring. Give me detailed photos of boinking any day.
Ahem, yes. Now, that I've shared my perverted tastes in 'literature', let's move on.
It took a great deal of pleading and bribing to get the two horny gods to follow after me. How'd I bribe them? Told them I'd take them to a strip club to see real things a jiggling. So, now we were off towards the men's department. ::sigh:: I had to spend the next two hours listening to Ares whine and complain about why we didn't sell leather suits.
I'm telling you, if I had a Hind's blood dagger on me, the world would have been down one God of War. After patiently explaining to him why we didn't carry leather hide suits, we made quick progress towards Customer Service Layaway.
Let's take a minute here to reflect. Layaway. Doesn't that sound just so...hill billy red neck like? No? Well, good cause my dad used to put our school clothes on layaway at K-Mart. Course, by the time we got our clothes out from layaway, they didn't fit any more, but trying telling my father that.
After I did some brief introductions to the associates currently working there and looking like Amazons finding a male amongst them, we backtracked and found ourselves in the shoe department.
Hmm, I'm not sure why, but suddenly I felt like Deimos was amongst us. Course, I only thought that because Strife was currently sniffing and licking the leather stiletto pumps that were on display. I was about to go over there and cram the heel up his nose, when Cupid gently pulled me back and walked over to Strife in my stead.
Silly me to think Cupid would give Strife what for. When I looked up from trying on a pair of Nike sneakers, I found Cupid rubbing women's pumps against Strife's crotch and Strife doing likewise to Cupid. Okay, I had two options, well maybe three. I could have just sat back and watched the women around me faint over the display. I could have let security walk ever so slowly towards us (they see everything. We have so many damn cameras around the place, you can't pick the underwear out of the crack of your ass without it being caught on tape and them laughing at you) to break up the shoe fetish party. Or, I could trudge my happy ass over there and whack them both upside the back of their heads.
Guess which option I picked? Yes, give the lady/gentleman/indistinguishable sex person a prize! I went over there, smacked them one and yanked the sweaty pumps from their slack hands. After quickly hiding the used footwear amongst the discount bin, making sure I marked them as seventy-five percent off, (hey, we do a shit load of business and sell more useless crap when it's marked this low) I grabbed each godling by their ear.
Having had enough of 'who can soil the most footwear', my insane friends and I headed towards the children's department. Well, it was my own damn fault for thinking that they'd behave around the children's clothes, but oh no. Nope, it wasn't Ares or Strife this time causing me to go into an early grave. It was Joxer and Cupid this time. I had to stuff baby booties into my ears to cover the high pitched squeals coming from the two of them. Now, I know they may have been secretly or in Cupid's case, not secretly, boinking the other two gods standing behind me grimacing, but damn if they didn't sound like Mariah Carey on acid.
I think a few glasses on some of the customers' faces broke. I, myself was lucky. My glasses are so damn thick you couldn't break them if you shot a scud missile through them. But I digress.
Anyway, having wiped the blood from my ears, I grabbed the two of them by the arms and dragged them away before they could find something else to squeal over and shatter a few pace makers.
Our next to last stop was the Lady's Department. I really, really should have found another way round cause it took me three hours just to get the silky panties away from Strife's mouth. I mean I could understand having a mild underwear fetish. I, myself love those brief/shorts underwear some guys wear. I can't help it. It frames the package ever so, worthy of major droolage. Anyway, as I yanked and grabbed stockings, panties, bras and other girlie things from out of sweaty palms, I told them to either keep moving or I'd spread lies about them having a thing for Michael Bolton.
Never have I seen anyone move so fast in my life.
As we moved along, the four nut cases tried to veer towards the lady's clothes. I put them on the right path with just one word. "Michael." Suffice it to say, we finally headed back towards the front of the store.
Now, there was actually more to the store then what I showed them. But my happy ass had already been here way pass the time I was suppose to go home and besides, I didn't feel like having to perform CPR on them cause they decided that trying all the drugs would be a cool thing to do. Plus, there wasn't enough band-aids on earth to stop the amount of bleeding that might have occurred from paper cuts if I had showed them the Stationary Department.
So, as we headed back towards the Greeter Stand or as it's sometimes called The ID desk. Wow, catchy name, ain't it? I walked up to Naomi (ask me if this is really her name and I *will* have to hurt you) who had taken over for Melissa and told her we were leaving. I should have gone to the time clock and clocked out, but from what I had to go through today, they could clock me out their damn selves.
As we walked away from the Main BX and headed outside, I took off my ugly ass red vest (you wear one of these and everyone on god's green earth thinks you know everything about everything in the store) and lead my group of hot and yummy (yes, even after the shit I had to put up with, they were still boinkable) men towards my little '98 Ford Escort.
I opened all the doors and told them to hop in. I made sure to have Strife seated up front. I didn't trust him in the back. With my luck, we would have ended up in a ditch for something stupid. Anyway, instead of driving them home to meet my hubby, I drove them to the strip club. Hell, I *did* promise them I'd take them there.
We got to the club and went inside. One good thing about having gods with you, you don't have to pay for shit. So, we went inside and I heard something go 'thump!'. I looked behind me and saw Joxer passed out on the sticky floor.
Why'd he pass out for?
Well, I may have promised them a trip to the strip club, but I never told them the women would be stripping.
The End (shit I hope so)
Author: Christine
Series: Xena/Hercules
Rating: R
Codes: A/J and C/S
Archive: AJCS
Disclaimer: Well, hell, if I did own them would I be here writing stories? Not just no, but hell no.
Feedback: Yes please.
Warning: Major silliness. In other words, don't drink or eat anything while reading this. Unless you like cleaning up your keyboard.
Author's Note: 1. This is in response to my own challenge about putting the guys in our everyday situations.
2. Most of the stuff in this story is real from my job. Course, I have changed bits here and there to conform to the story's ::snort:: plot.
Acknowledgements: I wish to thank Hergerbabe for betaing this silly, silly story.
Summary: My day at work changes when the boys stop by.
It was a normal day at the base exchange. I was at my register, standing around waiting for the pig-headed, holier than thou, military customers to come through my line. When what to my little ears did I hear? My fellow sales associate yelling for security.
Now, being the nosy young woman I am, I turned around at the commotion. As I got a good look at who was creating all the chaos, my big, brown eyes grew wide. Standing there, arguing with the little woman at the Greeter's Stand, was Ares, Strife, Cupid and Joxer.
Looking around, I noticed none of my co-workers knew who they were. So, being the only one at the exchange who did, I turned off my light and came from round the register. I made my way over to Melissa (no this ain't her name) and asked her what all the racket was for. My reason for acting like a supervisor when all I really was, was an underpaid peon? Simple really. Our leader, Milly (no damnit, this ain't really her name either) was on her three hour long break.
The lucky old fart.
Anyway, knowing what I did about these four men...uh, gods and mortal, I politely asked, "What the frigging heck is going on here!?" (in this store I can't curse cause there are so many damn bible thumpers that work here, I think I'd give them a massive coronary if I did)
Before Melissa could reply, Ares stood straight up and bellowed, "She told *us* we couldn't come in here if we didn't have a military ID card!"
After checking on the few ancient looking retirees who passed out and waiting for my ears to quit ringing, I politely (yeah, we have to remain polite in times of stress so we don't kill any of the customers) pulled Melissa away from the entourage of angry gods and mortal ::fans self with hand:: (damn, I *wish* this would really happen) and told her I'd sign them in.
Why you ask. Simple really. I have a dependent ID card, so there.
Where was I? Ah, yes.
So, after signing the four hot and studly guys in, I told one of my fellow cashiers that I was going to be showing these 'foreign military men' (eh, so I exaggerated a bit. They *are* foreign and Ares might as well be from some branch of service) around the store. She waved me off and I could have sworn I heard her say, "Lucky dog."
I figured I'd show them the Power Zone first. (This be what we call the stereo department) So, as we turned left at the soda machine, I led my tasty treats towards stereo. Behind me I could hear Strife saying, "Oo! Unc, look! Stereos!"
I rolled my eyes and refrained from saying, "Well, duh. Why do you think they call it the stereo department?" Instead I said, "Uh huh."
Strolling through the aisles, I felt like a tour guide. All I needed was a microphone and a few people taking snapshots. I walked down each aisle pointing stuff out, feeling like a grade school teacher when I had to tell Cupid not to touch the pretty glowing wires.
Course, he didn't listen and now the room smelt of burnt feathers. Well, I did try telling the manager that that wire didn't look right, but ol' iron britches wouldn't listen.
As we went pass the row of T.V.'s on display, I casually looked behind me and found I had lost one of my followers. Before I could ask where Strife went, the room was suddenly filled with heavy metal music blasting on high volume from one of the stereos on display. Poking my fingers in my ears, I ran over to that aisle and kicked Strife in the shins before turning the stereo off.
I managed to duck before I got hit with a power ball, but the poor 32' inch Sony Vega would never be the same. Before Ares could zap his nummy looking nephew, Maranda (if you haven't realized these names are fake yet, perhaps you should see my first insight up top) walked over to us and cried, "What have you done!?"
I turned around to see what my 'friends' would do, but the dip shits had turned their backs on me and pretended to look at the merchandise around us. Sighing, I turned back towards Maranda and smiled a cheesy smile. "Sorry about this. Tell Kit (this is the last time I tell you that this ain't their names) these fine gentleman (I had to hold back a giggle over that lie) will be paying for all the damage done here."
Eyeing my new found friends and I used the term loosely now that they tried to get me into trouble, Maranda went off to do just that. Wiping my forehead and upper lip of sweat, I growled, "Alright, boys. Onto the music section."
I got a big 'woohoo!' out of that. So, off we went towards the music. We didn't have a super duper huge section of CDs, but damn if they weren't cheaper then out in town. Can you believe that you gotta pay almost twenty dollars for a metallic disk that you can get fifty of them blank for the same price? That's one reason why I shopped here at the base exchange, the CDs only cost twelve ninety-five and we don't have to pay tax.
Um, yeah. I should probably get back on track. I tend to do that. I'll begin talking and then suddenly bring something else up. Like I'm doing now. ::sigh:: I'm telling you, these guys were getting on my last nerve.
Anyway, after spending an hour telling Ares he couldn't use the CDs in battle unless he bought them first, unless of course he was thinking of using the Britney Spears CDs. I'd have been overjoyed to let him have those for free. But I digress. So, I yanked my 'willing' comrades towards the American Greeting card section next.
Ah, lemme let you in on a little secret. For future reference, never show Strife the greeting cards. Why? I'm glad you asked. Because I spent the next ten minutes trying to calm the greeting card vendor down by telling her they'd pay for the damage. I was about ready to kick her in her prissy pants when she snubbed me and walked off in a huff. Being the lady that I am (ya'll may be laughing now, but I know where some of you live ::glares at Hergerbabe::) I just balled my hands up into fists and growled till I scared Joxer away from me and towards Ares. Even Ares backed off a bit.
Dodging the greeting cards come paper airplanes, I shuffled off towards the magazine rack. Well, now I know I really shouldn't have been too surprised, but I heaved a major sigh when I turned around and found Ares and Strife thumbing through the Playboys. We used to carry more detailed porn mags, but the old as dinosaur shit retirees whined and complained about our youth being corrupted, so we now only carry the Playboys.
Why only Playboys? Cause the only thing in those magazines are pictures of naked chicks. I personally don't find a plain old naked person very alluring. Give me detailed photos of boinking any day.
Ahem, yes. Now, that I've shared my perverted tastes in 'literature', let's move on.
It took a great deal of pleading and bribing to get the two horny gods to follow after me. How'd I bribe them? Told them I'd take them to a strip club to see real things a jiggling. So, now we were off towards the men's department. ::sigh:: I had to spend the next two hours listening to Ares whine and complain about why we didn't sell leather suits.
I'm telling you, if I had a Hind's blood dagger on me, the world would have been down one God of War. After patiently explaining to him why we didn't carry leather hide suits, we made quick progress towards Customer Service Layaway.
Let's take a minute here to reflect. Layaway. Doesn't that sound just so...hill billy red neck like? No? Well, good cause my dad used to put our school clothes on layaway at K-Mart. Course, by the time we got our clothes out from layaway, they didn't fit any more, but trying telling my father that.
After I did some brief introductions to the associates currently working there and looking like Amazons finding a male amongst them, we backtracked and found ourselves in the shoe department.
Hmm, I'm not sure why, but suddenly I felt like Deimos was amongst us. Course, I only thought that because Strife was currently sniffing and licking the leather stiletto pumps that were on display. I was about to go over there and cram the heel up his nose, when Cupid gently pulled me back and walked over to Strife in my stead.
Silly me to think Cupid would give Strife what for. When I looked up from trying on a pair of Nike sneakers, I found Cupid rubbing women's pumps against Strife's crotch and Strife doing likewise to Cupid. Okay, I had two options, well maybe three. I could have just sat back and watched the women around me faint over the display. I could have let security walk ever so slowly towards us (they see everything. We have so many damn cameras around the place, you can't pick the underwear out of the crack of your ass without it being caught on tape and them laughing at you) to break up the shoe fetish party. Or, I could trudge my happy ass over there and whack them both upside the back of their heads.
Guess which option I picked? Yes, give the lady/gentleman/indistinguishable sex person a prize! I went over there, smacked them one and yanked the sweaty pumps from their slack hands. After quickly hiding the used footwear amongst the discount bin, making sure I marked them as seventy-five percent off, (hey, we do a shit load of business and sell more useless crap when it's marked this low) I grabbed each godling by their ear.
Having had enough of 'who can soil the most footwear', my insane friends and I headed towards the children's department. Well, it was my own damn fault for thinking that they'd behave around the children's clothes, but oh no. Nope, it wasn't Ares or Strife this time causing me to go into an early grave. It was Joxer and Cupid this time. I had to stuff baby booties into my ears to cover the high pitched squeals coming from the two of them. Now, I know they may have been secretly or in Cupid's case, not secretly, boinking the other two gods standing behind me grimacing, but damn if they didn't sound like Mariah Carey on acid.
I think a few glasses on some of the customers' faces broke. I, myself was lucky. My glasses are so damn thick you couldn't break them if you shot a scud missile through them. But I digress.
Anyway, having wiped the blood from my ears, I grabbed the two of them by the arms and dragged them away before they could find something else to squeal over and shatter a few pace makers.
Our next to last stop was the Lady's Department. I really, really should have found another way round cause it took me three hours just to get the silky panties away from Strife's mouth. I mean I could understand having a mild underwear fetish. I, myself love those brief/shorts underwear some guys wear. I can't help it. It frames the package ever so, worthy of major droolage. Anyway, as I yanked and grabbed stockings, panties, bras and other girlie things from out of sweaty palms, I told them to either keep moving or I'd spread lies about them having a thing for Michael Bolton.
Never have I seen anyone move so fast in my life.
As we moved along, the four nut cases tried to veer towards the lady's clothes. I put them on the right path with just one word. "Michael." Suffice it to say, we finally headed back towards the front of the store.
Now, there was actually more to the store then what I showed them. But my happy ass had already been here way pass the time I was suppose to go home and besides, I didn't feel like having to perform CPR on them cause they decided that trying all the drugs would be a cool thing to do. Plus, there wasn't enough band-aids on earth to stop the amount of bleeding that might have occurred from paper cuts if I had showed them the Stationary Department.
So, as we headed back towards the Greeter Stand or as it's sometimes called The ID desk. Wow, catchy name, ain't it? I walked up to Naomi (ask me if this is really her name and I *will* have to hurt you) who had taken over for Melissa and told her we were leaving. I should have gone to the time clock and clocked out, but from what I had to go through today, they could clock me out their damn selves.
As we walked away from the Main BX and headed outside, I took off my ugly ass red vest (you wear one of these and everyone on god's green earth thinks you know everything about everything in the store) and lead my group of hot and yummy (yes, even after the shit I had to put up with, they were still boinkable) men towards my little '98 Ford Escort.
I opened all the doors and told them to hop in. I made sure to have Strife seated up front. I didn't trust him in the back. With my luck, we would have ended up in a ditch for something stupid. Anyway, instead of driving them home to meet my hubby, I drove them to the strip club. Hell, I *did* promise them I'd take them there.
We got to the club and went inside. One good thing about having gods with you, you don't have to pay for shit. So, we went inside and I heard something go 'thump!'. I looked behind me and saw Joxer passed out on the sticky floor.
Why'd he pass out for?
Well, I may have promised them a trip to the strip club, but I never told them the women would be stripping.
The End (shit I hope so)
