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:: crushed ::

You know I'm the one that you can talk to
Sometimes you tell me things that I don't want to know
And I just want to hold you
You say exactly how you feel about her
I wonder, could you ever think of me that way?

Oh I wish I could tell somebody,
But there's no one to talk to, nobody knows
I have a crush on you

/ Mandy Moore – Crush

It was dark. A thick darkness, pitch black as midnight. Diana could make out neither where she was nor how she got there. She was standing in endless black, waiting, but for what, she did not know either. She must have been cold for she was shivering. At least she hoped that was the reason why she was shivering. It also could be because, from what fabric she could make out on herself strictly by touch, she wasn't wearing much.

But she could sense him there too, in the room, watching her. There was an arresting presence about him, electric and potent. It held her riveted there. Even though she wanted to run, she couldn't leave. Not this time.

"You have my attention now."

A voice purred out of the darkness and Diana melted into the velvety timbre. It was like a caress the way his words struck her; soft and silky, but desire-roughened at the edges.

"Ares," she whispered, hardly able to breathe. Now was the time to run. She knew what was happening, knew she couldn't let it happen and yet she still couldn't force herself to move.

"You have my attention, Diana. My full attention," he whispered the words into the back of her neck, causing the delicate hairs there to lift. His large hands came up, closing around her shoulders. Diana gasped, tensing. The reasons why it was so very wrong to give into Ares were fading out of her mind. They were rapidly replaced with desires, each one more erotic than the last.

"Ares, we can't—" she tried to protest, but got no further as his mouth closed masterfully over hers. There was no mistaking this kiss. Her mouth was slightly parted from her half-delivered objection and Ares wasted no time taking advantage, his tongue slipping inside as he savored the full access she was granting him. Diana's knees buckled and she collapsed, into his lap she thought, though the darkness made it hard to discern where she was. But she must have been close to him, for Ares' arms slid around her, bracing her against his chest, as solid as granite. His lips slanted more firmly across hers, drinking her in as he placed both hands firmly on her derrière and gripped. Diana's soft squeal was lost in the kiss. She clung desperately to his strong neck, kissing him back with a fervor that shocked her.

Before she guessed his next move, Ares slid a hand from her bottom and up her—her—garment? Diana had no idea what she was wearing, except that she was sure it wasn't her usual gypsy clothes. The fabric didn't feel like cotton or leather; instead it had a cool, smooth feel to it, like satin. And the neckline, which Diana could feel ended somewhere just below the swell of her breasts, had a stiff feel to it. Possibly lace? The straps that trained over her shoulders and crisscrossed at her back had that same stiff feeling to them. But Diana lost all interest in what she was wearing as Ares' hand traveled upward, journaling warm silken skin until it reached the crest of her breast. There his hand paused and his grip grew firm again, deftly kneading, vigorously plumping the soft mound as he captured her moans of pleasure in his mouth.

The pleasure only mounted as he suddenly shifted her body closer, sliding the mystery outfit free as his caresses drifted, growing more meaningful, heightening every sensation. Diana couldn't see what he was doing, but she could feel him fitting her to him, ready to impale her. She was so hot already, so ready for him; she knew it'd only be seconds before she exploded into total, utter ecstasy…

Gasp!

Diana sat straight up in bed. Her mind was whirling and she felt hot and sweaty all over. It was all a dream. It had to have been a dream. But it felt so vivid. It felt so real.

I can't believe I am thinking about Ares that way. Damn Cal for stirring all this up. What in Tartarus is wrong with me?

She ran a restless hand across her forehead, wiping away the moisture there. Her whole body was still trembling, as if she were feverish. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She had to get this crazy impulse of hers under control. She just had to!

There is no way this can work. If things were different… maybe. But Ares is just too—and I'm so—hell, it just can't work. Not now. Not ever.

But she couldn't help the way the dream had affected her, titillating her senses and giving her imagination free rein. Her curiosity was strong and it drew her into a dark web of desire even as she rebelled from the emotions. The visions seared across her memory, hot and furious, and she couldn't help wondering what it would be like. Would it be as good as she imagined? Diana tried to kill that line of thought, but in her heart she knew it'd be even better.

She got out of bed. It had to be early. She could tell it was for it was still dark outside. It was very usual for Diana --the original late sleeper-- to be up before the crack of noon. But there was no way she could go back to sleep. Not now.

I need to go and work out—er, work this out of my system. Or take a cold shower or… something.

She reached for her clothes, her fingers fumbling with the laces. It seemed to take forever to get dressed. She was clumsy with everything, having such difficulty getting things on because all she could think about was Ares taking them off. His movements would be slow and teasing, making her wait as he deliberately removed each item, dropping lazy kisses on each piece of flesh he bared. Diana's throat was suddenly dry. She tried so hard to purge her mind of these thoughts, but they were too prolific, washing over her like tidal waves, making her whole body ache.

No! No, no!

She finally got herself into some semblance of order and flounced out of her room, madder than a hornet. Unfortunately, since the rest of the Temple was still asleep, she had to flounce very quietly. It sort of defeated the purpose of making a big fuss when there was no one around to see and ask about it, so eventually she gave up the dramatics and made a beeline for the kitchen. Anytime of the day or night, Diana could always manage to eat and it would make a good distraction to take her mind off—certain dreams she had.

And who Ares is with right now. In his bed. Not that I care! 'Cause I DON'T!

But Diana couldn't get her mind off it nonetheless. The images stuck with her as she prepared breakfast, ate and got a noticeably early --for the first time ever-- start on her chores. Due to that early start --and an undeniable bout of excess energy she needed to burn-- the gypsy made record time through the stables, weapons training, general Temple clean-up and found herself searching for extra things to do to keep herself distracted. The other priestesses found this confusing and avoided Diana whenever possible, finding her sudden work ethic and lack of incident-causing so unlike the gypsy that they were afraid she was ill—with only months remaining to live, possibly.

Diana took their dry abuse with surprising grace. Rather than behaving vengefully, she was so meek in the face of sarcasm that the priestesses truly became concerned and decided to take the matter up before Ares. That was how Diana found herself, at possibly the worst time in her life, before Ares throne once again. And she couldn't have regretted it more.

Ares watched her carefully as she came in, his expression thoughtful. He'd called her here out of concern for her health, but he could see she was perfectly healthy. He could also see that she looked tired, as if she had struggled with sleep all night. And that pleased him immensely. He was finally getting through her impenetrable defenses. After all this time, he found a way in.

Enchanted dreams had been a particularly refreshing idea, he thought. Morpheus owed him a favor or two --a fact which dated back to the last Solstice party on Olympus and Zeus' anger after an illusion played on Hera failed to produce the desired result-- and Ares was thoroughly enjoying the cash in. He hadn't attempted using dreams to influence events since his little bout years ago with Hercules. And though they hadn't worked the way he intended in that particular scenario, he wasn't exactly putting them to the same use this time. That time he was intending to kill the victim. This time he'd still be conquering the situation, but in a different fashion entirely.

He took his time before speaking, just savoring the view in front of him. Gods, she was beautiful and dramatically so. He thought that was one of the things he liked best about her. Unlike most warriors, she didn't attempt to hide her beauty behind armor or downplay it to make herself look more masculine. Rather she flaunted her unique looks and turned her individuality into a weapon in its own right. No one ever mistook Diana for someone else. There was just something about a gorgeous woman in a sweeping rainbow of color reigning blows down like a vengeful angel that stuck in people's minds. She didn't blend in and she didn't have to. Diana was all spontaneity, spitfire and damn-the-consequences, and the rub of it was she could and did back that up when necessary. Challenging her was like tangling with a dragon; it might be glittery and beautiful on the outside, but ultimately you were just playing with fire.

"Come here gypsy," he spoke softly and was pleased to see her tremble in reaction. Diana was amusing to watch when she was unsure about something. She knew how to deal with his anger and retaliated by getting just as angry and defiant in return, which also amused him more often than he let on. But when he didn't react to her as expected, it flustered her considerably. Ares had since made a habit of catching her offguard. He found that he liked to make her blush.

She took a step closer as ordered, then stopped. She didn't come all the way. She didn't have to. He was already on the move to her.

"Yes My Lord?" Even though her expression was clouded, her voice was strong and never wavered. She edged back, not wanting to be too close. She was masking her thoughts from him and doing a damn good job of it. That was one skill his gypsy possessed in spades; when she didn't want anyone reading her thoughts, they didn't. No strongbox was tighter, no sword swifter, no lock more secure than that unreachable mind. That was another thing he liked about her.

"You summoned me?" she continued, her tone turning mildly questioning. Ares let his eyes linger on her face, trailing down the crystalline features, then gently wandering back to her piercing eyes studying him just as curiously. It was more than just her physical beauty, there was strength of character in her, unyielding precision defined by her. She was more than he could fathom, more than he could dream of. And it fascinated him.

"Ares," she spoke again, growing frustrated with his silence. "Why did you summon me here?"

Why had he? He paced back and forth like a caged lion. It seemed there was a reason once. Now he found he just wanted to study her, watch her until he knew her secrets, her innermost thoughts. But he could hardly tell her that.

"I heard you were sick," he said, an edge of concern making its way into his voice. He stopped, cleared his throat abruptly and gruffly began again. "I absolutely forbid you to get sick, Diana. Do you hear me?"

There. Now that made absolutely no sense. But on the plus side, it did sound more like him.

A glint of amusement was all that was visible in Diana's eyes. "I'll try my best not to," she replied. But the amusement was short lived as she examined the warmth in his eyes. She swallowed and averted her gaze.

"If that is all, I beg you to excuse me. I have duties to return to."

"That isn't all," the words escaped him before he knew it and he scrambled for an excuse. "I wanted to talk to you."

A muscle twitched in her jaw, but it was the only giveaway of her discomfiture. "About?"

Damn. She would ask…

Ares thought quickly. He'd been staring at her and—her! Ah. Perfect. "About you, my sweet…" he murmured. He reached out and took her hand, folding it into his. She shivered and tried to pull back, but he didn't release her. He just kept her hand captive, unfurling it in his own as he sensually trailed his forefinger down the palm to her wrist where her pulse was leaping wildly.

"You don't look well. Not sick perhaps, but you don't look well rested either." He hesitated deliberately, then asked with a wicked grin, "How did you sleep last night?"

He struck a nerve. He could tell by the way her eyes flared and she stiffened, disentangling her hand from his grasp. "I slept very well, thank you," she replied coldly and also untruthfully. He knew it was a lie from the dark circles beneath her eyes. She pressed her hand tightly against her skirt, wiping it clean as if trying to remove the imprint of his fingers. "Never had a better night's sleep in my life."

The effect of her declaration was quite spoiled as fate took a hand and nearly split Diana's face in two with an enormous yawn. Ares' own face split with an equally enormous, completely smug grin.

"Right. I can see that."

"Look Ares," Diana replied crossly. "My sleeping habits are no concern of yours. None of your business whatsoever, do you hear me? Now if you don't mind—" She spun on a heel and would have flounced off, but Ares moved faster and parried her exit, folding arms across an unyielding chest.

"Oh but I do mind. We are not done here."

"We are too! I have nothing more to say to you!"

"But I have more to say to you," he caught her arm and swung her around. He cupped her chin in one fist and lifted it, locking her eyes with his. "You can't run away from me Diana. I know you. I know what you want. And I'm not going to let you go."

It was hard for him to keep focused. Her breathing had speeded up and it was distracting him. In and out, in and out, it pulsated in a wild, ragged rhythm that brought them closer with every inhale, brushing her breasts provocatively against the bare skin of his chest. His gaze focused on her lips, so close, so tempting.

"You don't know what I want," Diana replied, but the words were just as ragged and hoarse as her breathing. Her lush lips were parted, practically begging to be kissed. It wouldn't be hard to kiss her. All he'd have to do was lean in and…

The slap shocked him, just as much as it shocked her. Ares recoiled in surprise and almost released Diana in the process. That was the last move he'd expected. Normally he would have caught the blow before it landed, but he was too focused on her to see it coming. His eyes narrowed and his brows knitted with sudden fury.

"What the—? DIANA! WHAT IN TARTARUS DID YOU DO THAT FOR?" he roared, shaking her fiercely. His hands gripped her shoulders, clawing into the flesh.

Diana looked just as shaken as he felt. Her eyes didn't focus on him and it was perhaps the first time he'd ever seen her completely unsettled. "I—I don't know—" she mumbled, her gaze dropping to the floor. Her stray hands sought for a purpose, found a gold charm dangling from her neck and fidgeted with it. "I just—I mean, it—it seemed like the thing to do at the time."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"I don't know. I must admit, I'm quite embarrassed by it now."

"Well I should think so," Ares retorted, glad to see his gypsy so remorseful for a change. Diana nodded in agreement.

"Oh yes, it's mortifying. Please don't tell anyone. I wouldn't want word getting out. My reputation, you know!"

"Well, since you were properly apologetic, we won't speak of it again," Ares said in a conciliatory tone. Diana nodded again.

"Oh yes very. I couldn't be more embarrassed if I tried. To think I resorted to something as conventional as a slap. Why I can do five times better than that!"

Ares eyes widened comically. He shook her again. "What? Diana, I didn't do anything to you! What the hell did you hit me for?"

Diana's eyes narrowed in contrast. She dropped the amulet she was still fidgeting with and braced hands on hips. "Maybe you didn't do it. But you were thinking it."

"You can't hit a man because of what he is thinking—or what you think he's thinking! That's ludicrous!"

"Oh I know you too Ares," Diana mocked him. "And I know exactly what you were thinking. Call it a preemptive strike. You should understand that, Mr. War Tactician." She shook her shoulders free of his grip, but couldn't resist the urge to give him a really venomous glare before fleeing.

Now it was Ares with eyes narrowed. "If I am going to be slapped, then I'd better damn well make sure I've done something worth being slapped for," he growled and gripped Diana's shoulders again, harder this time. He ignored her gasp, not sure whether to take it as encouragement or protest, but not giving a damn either way and yanked her to him. He crushed her against his body and used one hand to pin her there, while the other threaded through her hair and cradled her skull, tilting her head upward. Diana tried to vocalize something inarticulate, but Ares cut her off with a terse shake of his head.

"You've made your point," he said flatly. "Now I'm going to make mine." He lowered his head and claimed her mouth in one swift, conquering move.

Her lack of resistance surprised him. He would have expected a kick in the shins or a dislocated bone, or, or—well, with Diana the possibilities for violence were endless. Thank Zeus that, as a god, it was impossible to break his nose or he'd have ducked already. But unexpectedly she didn't try to struggle or retaliate. Instead, to his great delight, she melted sweetly into his arms like she belonged there. It seemed for once his gypsy had given up the fight.

Reacting quickly, Ares growled low in his throat and deepened the kiss. Diana was hesitant in her response, but Ares knew the exact instant she released her inhibitions and started kissing him back. She had a mind like a steel trap, but he could always read her emotions and right now they were whirling in more directions than a spinning teacup ride. She was confused, possibly intimidated and stubborn to the very end. But something clicked between them and even his hot-headed little gypsy couldn't ignore it. She was just as passionate as he was, her mouth widening to accept what he was offering, her hands instinctively sliding up into his inky curls. Ares felt a wave of heat surge through him, motivated by her ardent response. She might protest that she didn't want him, but her body language didn't lie. She was as hot and greedy for him as he was for her. And all that passion and intensity she usually fuelled into warfare was suddenly poured into this sweet, fiery moment and Ares felt his groin tighten.

Oh Hell yes! This is gonna be one wild ride!

He backed her to the wall, using the leverage to press her closer until he could feel every curve pressed against him. For all her muscle strength, she was startlingly soft and yielding in his arms. He kept reinforcing his kiss, not only because it was intoxicatingly good, but also because he wanted to keep her bewitched until he could figure out a way to get her into a compromising position.

And how was he going to get her into a compromising position from here? The throne was too narrow, the floor too hard and he could aim for the rug, but it wasn't much padding and besides there was bound to be some rolling around— no. He couldn't possibly take her, not in here. Maybe if he could maneuver them out into the hall, he could…?

Wait. What the hell was he dramatizing about? Duh. He was a god. The system was just point 'n click! Ares mentally grinned, considerably pleased with himself for coming up with the perfect solution. Course it would have occurred to him much sooner, but how was he supposed to have coherent thought with Diana undulating against him like that? And how was he—ooohhh, actually that wasn't too bad. If she moved just a few inches down, he'd—well, he'd—

The bedroom. Ares lifted a hand to do just that, but then realized that was exactly what he did not want to do. Ironic, but now that he had Diana right in the palm of his hand, he realized that wasn't what he really wanted. He didn't want to have any regrets over this. And more important, he didn't want Diana having regrets either. His warrior gypsy was stubborn and had a tendency to carry a mental cross around with her and martyr herself on it whenever she felt she'd crossed an invisible line. There were no gray areas with her. She saw the world in big, slashing shades of black and white and persistently struggled never to stray from the white area. She was good; Ares was bad and there was no deviating from that formula or the sky would turn black, the rivers turn to blood and lightning would zigzag from the heavens and consume her on the spot. (A point of view Ares always found laughable. Considering his father's views on adultery; fire from heaven was least likely of all the consequences she needed to worry about. There was more concern that his father would arrive to participate in any explicit practices than chastise her about them.)

But the fact was that if he allowed himself to take her now, he would become the big bad wolf in the situation and Diana would be crucifying herself and wailing 'oh poor me' until the day she died. He couldn't let her become the victim here. Manipulating her into this for a quick, one-night stand was not what he wanted. He wanted her to surrender to him of her own free will. Then she wouldn't be able to absolve herself while blaming him for complications he may or may not have caused. He wanted his gypsy to come to him.

He pulled back, abruptly releasing Diana in the process. It was difficult; especially when she looked so enraptured and thoroughly, deliciously kissed. Seeing her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, he had to fight not to yank her back into his arms and finish what he started. Her eyes flew open and stared at him, flooded with questions. But within seconds, soft, glowing emerald hardened into cold crystal and stabbed him clear to his heart.

"What was that for?" Her words were abnormally sharp and tense. Her chest heaved indignantly with the force of her labored breathing and Ares fought not to be distracted. Damned if he wasn't going to go through this, even when every nuance in his anatomy --one part in particular-- was screaming in protest.

"Think about it," he snapped back, just as sharply. Their frustration stemmed from different angles, hers because of what might have happened and his because of what should have happened, but it was a mutually shared anger nonetheless.

Diana glared daggers at him still. "Why should I? It's obvious you were thinking about it and you are filthy enough for the both of us!"

"Oh? Who was kissing who back, might I ask? You were tonguing me pretty good there for someone not thinking about it!"

This time Ares did move fast enough to avoid the blow; if only because it wasn't a slap and he firmly intended to exercise that portion of his anatomy later. Perhaps not with Diana, seeing as she suddenly had developed a snitty mood, but judging by the way he was feeling right now he was damn well going to exercise it with somebody! Besides, he wasn't quite finished fathering all his future children yet.

But even as he dodged her strike, he couldn't resist taunting her again. His gypsy was so adorable when she was angry. Dazzlingly beautiful too, but that went without saying.

"So you can dish it out, but you can't take it? I'm disappointed in you, sweetness. I would have thought you, of all people, would be strong enough to face the truth."

"You BASTARD!"

"You can't do better than that? Really Diana. I'm truly am disappointed. You are usually more—creative with your insults. I even have a new pair of orange pants to remind me just how creative you are!"

"I hope they give you herpes!"

Ares broke into chuckles. "Ah that's better. I always know exactly where I stand with you. No subservience or fake flattery from my gypsy."

Diana glared at him, steam coming out of her ears. "I'm Not. Your. Gypsy."

'You are wrong!" He reached out and yanked her to him, grabbing her chin and forcing it roughly upwards to meet his impressive glare. "The one thing you are is my gypsy Diana, and don't you forget it! You belong to me and you always will. Now don't make me wait too long until you admit it."

With that, he let go and stepped back, pleased to see he had struck her speechless for once. Let her chew on that for awhile. He grinned devilishly. Diana was so transparent when she was like this. On the surface she was fuming with rage, but underneath she was trembling. He had struck a cord within her. And she hated him for it; but try as she might he knew she wouldn't be able to put it out of her mind. 'Obsessive compulsive' was her middle name.

Diana looked like she badly wanted to tell him off. Her body screamed unspoken epithets at him and her mouth formed itself around different swear words, mentally trying them on for size then discarding them for failing to be specific enough. He could feel the anger building around her like a tsunami, swirling and crashing waves of fury driven by the shrieking winds of indignation. Her face itself held all the light and violent passion of a thunderclap. But to his immense shock she held her tongue and faster than the lash of a whip, she'd spun and left the room, the door slamming behind her in a final note of defiance. Her anger lingered, palatably scorching the air. Ares folded his arms and stared at the closed door. He could follow her and drag her back of course, but it was better to let her simmer and think things through first. She'd be back. She wouldn't be able to keep herself away. He tingled with delicious anticipation just thinking about that. Even though he longed to zap away and do something to relieve his—er, stiffening condition, he knew he'd rather wait on Diana. She was the only one he wanted right now—and oh, how he wanted her! Yes, his gypsy would be back. And there'd be nothing she could do this time to avoid what was inevitable between them.