Author's Note: I want to give particular thanks to Stardawn19 and Storyfan101, who read this and gave me both encouragement and specific advice that improved my description here.

Autolycus was strolling down the path, enjoying the breeze and the afternoon sunlight, when he felt something wrap sharply around his ankles. His feet were yanked abruptly back and in short order he landed face first into the damp dirt. He grunted at the impact, and felt himself roughly turned over, to see Xena with a smile on her face that was not at all pleasant.

"Xena-?" He looked up at her in confusion. Not that she hadn't done this sort of thing to him in the past, but—he was most definitely not up to anything at all at present, and they'd just had what he'd thought was a friendly visit.

"Autolycus," Xena said with a snarl. "We need to talk."

Autolycus was wary—not, strangely, at the more than implied physical threat, but at Xena's manner: usually, at worst, Xena was impatient, irritated, exasperated at him—but this was something more: she looked truly angry.

He started to slowly rise, brushing dirt off of himself. He was relieved that he didn't immediately have a sword to his throat, but the dark expression on her face was a warning to him not to try to go anywhere.

As usual, Xena cut to the heart of the matter without excess words. "In winter, when we met in the tavern in Nafplion, you put something in mine and Gabrielle's ale."

"Ah. That," he said. No point in denying anything. Her face continued stony. "You see, there's a perfectly reasonable explanation," he said nervously.

"I'm not even sure I want to hear it." Her tone was cold. "I wouldn't have thought it of you, that you'd trick us like that. Was it for greed?—or were you just being careless?—as you pursued whatever your little plot was. Do you care so little about endangering us?"

Autolycus' eyes grew larger and a strange unsettled feeling came over him, like shame, and his face grew warm. There was accusation in her voice-she thought he'd betrayed them. For a few moments he stared at her, dumbfounded. There was a sick sensation in him that could not tolerate for her to see him that way. It made him speak.

"Now—hold on there—it wasn't like that—"

His words seemed to ignite fury in her. She grabbled him by his shirt and lifted him up, then slammed him against a nearby tree. By the gods, she's strong.

"Then what do you think you were doing?" she spat. She was nose to nose with him, her pale blue eyes so cold their gaze reached into him and chilled his soul.

Autolycus breathed to try to calm himself. He was used to people being angry with him, but the ferocity—and, he saw, hurt—in those eyes was worse than any of that. With a wrench he knew that he had lost her trust.

"So-you want to hear my explanation," he said, voice trembling.

The hand in his shirt twisted, and her elbow forced him further back against the trunk. Her voice was a growl. "Say it."

He thought back to the conversation with Cyrene that had started all of this, and wondered how much of it to share with her, then realized—he needed to get to the key point, needed Xena to know there'd been no danger.

He opened his mouth to do so—and his usual silver tongue failed him. In fact, he couldn't speak at all. The panicked frustration of it was far too familiar—it was just like when he'd first tried to tell Iolaus about the huge and terrifying chicken.

Xena now made that chicken look friendly, docile, and harmless. She had no patience at all with his attempts to talk, and he could see in her eyes that for her, this was just proof of his guilt.

Desperately, he tried again—but nothing. It was a set-up, interference from a god, he realized. He tried to communicate through his eyes—but Xena seemed immune to his silent plea, her own expression coldly implacable. She'd already judged him, he realized, and his current silence only confirmed what she already thought she knew.

The fury, doubt, and hurt in her eyes –it was starting to sink in, what this meant. She thought he would do her and Gabrielle harm. He couldn't even begin to cope with the pain of that.

Abruptly, she released him, and unprepared for it, he stumbled to the ground. He looked up at her as she stepped back.

Her voice was colder than he'd ever heard it.

"Get out of my sight. I don't ever want to see you again."

He looked at her, lost, trying one more time to defend himself against her accusation—but it was hopeless. He turned away, eyes closing. They were stinging—oh no. He couldn't let her see him fall apart like this. He scrambled up, keeping his face turned away from her. He needed to be alone, to pull himself together—ok, fall apart first, then pull himself together.

Feeling numb, he moved quickly away from Xena.

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As soon as he was far enough away that there was no way she'd be able to hear him, he felt his ability to speak return. He stumbled to his knees. "No," he said in a low voice, with strong feeling he almost never let into his words. "I'd never do anything that would hurt you or Gabrielle."

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A figure stood nearby in the shadows, listening, a stern expression on his face. Cupid was disgusted with his uncle's cruel games. With a compassionate glance back at Autolycus, shaking his head mournfully, he flew off to set in motion events that would right this wrong.