By Lexxie
***
DISCLAIMERS: No, they're not mine. Which isn't to say that I don't wish they were mine, but then, I also wish to win the lottery.
SEX/VIOLENCE/LANGUAGE: No, no, a little.
SUBTEXT: Nope. G/J, X/A. If this is a problem for you, then move along.
FEEDBACK: Feed me, please. I am but a poor, starving bard. E-mail me at mistiblu02@hotmail.com.
***
He's singing again.
For the love of Zeus. It's the same every night. Joxer the Mighty, his hat is very shiny, always getting in my hair, never changes underwear....
The same obnoxious song, the same tune over and over and over — every single night. A girl can only take so much. Honestly, it's getting so bad, I'm starting to hear it in my sleep. Geez...Gods, he's still at it. Can't he see I'm trying to concentrate here? That annoying, little —
Okay, Gabrielle, focus. Focus on your story, focus on your story....yeah, that's it. Calm, cool and collected. Okay, so where was I? Oh, that's right, Cecrops. Now —
Oh, now what? Damn. He's whistling. He's whistling! No, wait. Is that whistling, or wheezing? Oh, Good Gaia, the fool can't even whistle.
That's it. If he doesn't shut up now, I'm gonna take this scroll and shove it up his —
"Gabby, have you thought of what you're going to name your horse?" he asks. He has that look on his face, and his head is propped on his elbow, looking at me.
I wanna punch him. I wanna yell at him. I wanna pull at his nose until it's purple.
Instead, I sigh. That damn look on his face...he's such a dork. But a cute dork. Oh, Gods, did I just think that?
"No, Joxer, I haven't."
"I've been thinking," he begins. I'm tempted to make some snide comment here, but he's got this thoughtful look on his face that I kinda sorta find adorable...sorta. "Maybe you could name him Brownie, or something. I mean, he's brown enough. Or Cocoa. Cocoa's nice, right?"
I smile a little, despite myself. "He's a she, Joxer."
"No way!" he exclaimed. "How can you tell?"
"You just know these things, Joxer. Trust me."
A pause. "I trust you, Gabby." And he looks at me with those eyes of his.
I think something just fell down my throat. I look at him, and I know that he does trust me — he'd trust me with anything. His eyes are doing this puppy-dog thing, and Sweet Artemis, help me...I think that maybe I love him.
Gods, why can't he just be this annoying dweeb that tags along with us? Why can't I just get pissed off at him? So much simpler, and I'm so much more used to it. But this...this I don't like. Bad, bad feelings. When he gets like this, so soulful and open and innocent — what is it about him that just makes me want to fly?
"Anyway, Brownie and Cocoa would work for a guy horse, too."
I let a smile move past my defenses. "Yes, they would, Joxer."
He smiles back, no doubt proud of himself, and it lights up his face like a little kid.
See, I try to get mad at him, but it never works for very long. I guess he is an annoying dweeb that tags along with us, but he has his moments.
I wallow in the contentment for a moment, then I look back down on my scroll. I've really gotta write this now before the feeling passes. Okay, Cecrops —
"Joxer the Mighty, the ladies get all smile-y, when they see him walking by, he always seems to catch their eye...."
All right, cute or not...this is not funny anymore. Damn. Where are my sais?
***
He's singing again.
Oh, it really doesn't bother me much, except I can tell that Gabrielle's ready to skewer him. It's a good thing I hid her sais.
Honestly, I don't know who she's fooling. She loves the guy, anyone can see that. But it's kinda amusing to watch her figure it out, I guess. Only a matter of time, and then I'll be telling her I told you so.
Meanwhile, she's not the only one with man problems.
What are you doing back there? Lurking around as if I can't sense you...do you think I'm stupid? I can sense you a mile away. Oh, the perks of being Ares' Chosen.
You're always doing that — skulking around the bushes after you think I've fallen asleep, just looking at me. Okay, I'll play along. I'll pretend that I don't know that you're there, and you'll pretend that you don't know that I know.
We're always pretending, aren't we?
I pretend to hate, despise, abhor you. And you pretend to not care.
I guess it's easier that way. Better to keep this unspoken agreement and hate each other than to be mutually confused and vulnerable. And so far, we've been pretty good at lying to ourselves, haven't we? We've got 'em all convinced that we'd both jump at the chance to kill each other.
But damn, this is getting hard.
I've been feeling things lately. Things I've convinced myself long ago that were wrong. You're War, after all. I should be fighting against you, opposing you with all my being. And it's not like I haven't been doing that. But still...I can't help how I feel.
And you're slipping, too. Lately, you've been popping up for the most ridiculous reasons, and your threats just don't have that zing that they used to have. And now, you've graduated to voyeur. Speaking of which, are you planning on ever revealing yourself, or are you just going to sit there and watch all night, like you always do?
For once, just once...would you come out into the light?
I will if you will.
Aren't you tired yet of this charade? It would be different — not to mention easier — if I actually did hate you, and if you really didn't want me for anything other than your warlord. It'd be different if we didn't feel this.
But no. We had to go and fall in love.
How tragic. It's almost poetic, really. The God of War and the Warrior Princess, once his most devoted follower, now his greatest match. In love. If Gabrielle didn't hate you so much, she'd say "How romantic."
I can feel you moving closer. Closer still, until you're just a few feet behind me. Is that indecision you're feeling? Did you finally grow some balls? Are you gonna make your move this time?
No, you just wanted a better view.
This is crap. Something's gotta give, you know. We can't keep playing this game forever. Someday, we'll get careless and something will slip...oh, it'll happen eventually.
Meanwhile, you play your part. And I'll play mine.
THE END