Chapter Six

She couldn't believe she was doing this. If someone had said to her that morning that by nightfall, she'd be huddling in a stable in nothing but her underskirt, waiting for Ares of all people, she'd have smacked them in the face. Yet there she was, covering her armour in hay and waiting for Ares to come back from wherever he went. It didn't seem to bother him that he had no money for a dress. She decided not to think about it as she had plenty of other rather complicated and dire things to concern herself with. Like warlords, and the attentions of the God of War.

There was a sudden squeak of rusted hinges and warped wood, and Xena ducked down behind the stable wall. A horse in the next pen nickered with annoyance at the disruption.

"I'm back," hissed a familiar voice. "Check it out…"

A dress was laid over the door of the stable, Ares popping up next to it. It was a dress made of rough-woven woollen fabric, a bodice and skirt of deep red over white sleeves. Not an expensive dress, but a well-made, attractive one.

"Do I wanna know how you got this?" she asked, grabbing the garment.

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," said Ares, winking at her.

"Right."

There was an indulgent look on Ares' face as she stood there with the dress. After a long moment of him staring at her, it occurred to her that he wasn't about to turn around. She sighed heavily and turned away from him, getting on with dressing herself.

"See any soldiers out there?"

"No," said Ares, folding his arms. "Not unless they were out of their armour."

The dress was a reasonable fit. A bit tight around the shoulders, but Xena had always had a hard time finding dresses that fit that part of her anatomy. Fiddling with the laces of the bodice, she stepped out of the stable. Ares was quiet, and when she glanced up at him, he gave her a flicker of a smile.

"You look good."

Rolling her eyes, she glowered at him and stomped out of the stables ahead of him.

"Don't get me wrong, the leathers are hot, but it's nice to see you in something different."

"If I say 'thanks', will you shut up about what I'm wearing?"

"It bothers you that much?"

She gave him a withering look. "Isn't it obvious?"

They were trudging down the main street of Minoeta now, Ares trailing behind her, thoroughly amused at Xena's discomfort. Light and music streamed from the inn up ahead, people milling about the place, adding to the air of festivity and warmness that the place seemed to exude. Xena might have enjoyed it if it weren't for the impish mood of the erstwhile God behind her.

"I didn't think my opinion of your appearance could be so troubling."

"Disturbing, more like," said Xena. "And if you don't get your eyes off my ass you're going to find out where I'm hiding my chakram."

"Cute, but it's probably not in your best interests to throw that thing about in company."

"I won't, if you behave," she murmured, eyes on the inn ahead.

She knew she didn't have to tell him that she'd rather have chopped off a limb than leave her favourite weapon behind in a barn, never mind the fact that there was every possibility that they might run into some unsavoury characters – particularly any of Mallecium's men. She wasn't sure why she was risking their security for Ares. She kept remembering him breaking the link of omnipotence within his sword, pouring it out of himself and, as they fell to earth, becoming painfully human. Risking that for her, how could she deny him a simple night in a drinking house?

They soon found a snug spot at the end of the bar, nestled by the wall. Old farming equipment hung up on the wall, decorated with bows of coloured material and sheaves of wheat. There was even a shield on one wall, something that seemed quite out of place in the overwhelmingly agrarian establishment. It wasn't just the décor that was homely. Farmers and small-time merchants huddled about tables, a couple of rowdy old men sung bawdy tunes by the fire, upon which roasted a leg of mutton.

Ares was quiet, taking it all in as he sipped a foaming tankard of ale. He shook his head at them in mingled awe and disbelief.

"They do this every day, don't they?" he said. "Make their deals, talk about their sheep and drink till they forget that this is all their life is about."

"Why do you think I'm a travelling girl?" she asked with a hint of mischief.

"I know why you started travelling and it has nothing to do with the boring home life," replied Ares, a knowing glint in his eye.

She cleared her throat, looking away. "Don't you ever feel like them?" she asked, redirecting the conversation back to Ares. "That you're doing the same thing day in, day out, without meaning?"

A smirk twisted Ares' lips and he looked infuriatingly self-assured. "I know my place in the universe, Xena. I know what I need to do. It can get monotonous, I'll admit that, but no, it's never without meaning." He looked down to his ale, shooting out a sigh. "I do often wish that this important role of mine gave me room to be something else, something more."

Whatever that something more was, it made Xena's skin burn and shiver at once. He wasn't supposed to want things like this. Ares was war, that was his purpose. To be its force, to represent its madness, to make it happen. There wasn't supposed to be more of him and she wasn't supposed to be so damned drawn to it.

She had to distract herself from him. Grabbing the tankard of ale in front of her, she peered into it, downing the warm, frothing liquid with gusto.

"Woah, slow down, Xena," said Ares. "You do realise we have all night?"

"Unfortunately, yes," she growled.

"Let's make it a game!" said Ares, snapping his fingers and motioning over the bar man. "We'll see who can down a tankard the fastest!"

Xena glowered at him. "We're going to end up trashed at that rate!"

He scoffed. "Xena, my dear, this is the aim of the entire exercise!"

"Aren't you a little old for this sort of behaviour?"

Ares made a great show of rolling his eyes before grabbing Xena by the shoulders and staring at her deadpan.

"If you're too old for having fun you may as well be dead!" Xena opened her mouth but Ares put a finger over her lips quick. "Ah-ah-ah! Here." He squared her in her stool in front of the bar.

"Ares-"

"Don't make me hit ya where my good Daddy split ya."

Now it was Xena's turn to roll her eyes. "Fine. Don't blame me if you wake up with the mother of all headaches in the morning."

"Sure, but I would have had a good time the night before. Bar keep!"

Xena gripped the tankard in her hands, staring at the foamy beer inside. Mad. She had to be utterly insane.

A rather drunk looking man, reasonably well dressed so Xena guessed he was a shopkeeper or merchant, eyed her dress as he waited to order a drink.

"You know it's bizarre," he said, slurring and pointing at her, "My wife has nearly that exact same dress!"

"Couldn't be," Ares said. "I bought this one in Tiryns."

The man shook his head. "If she weren't already asleep in her bed, I'd bring her here an' show her!" He laughed and shook his head, stepping forward when he'd finally won the barkeep's attention.

Xena sighed deeply in relief, closing her eyes. "Ares, I swear I'm going to kill you one day."

"That's cool. Just do it when I'm not mortal, okay?"

She glanced to him angrily and at that, he shot her a mischievous grin.

~~*~~

Joxer strummed the lute feverishly, performing a rousing jig that would have no doubt been better played without all the Godly wine in his system. He flubbed a fret-fall here and there, but he was having so much fun it didn't matter. Gabrielle clapped in time, the both of them comfortable on their stretched out bedrolls. The song got to the most difficult part, and Joxer's features twisted in effort.

"Come on, you can do it!" she cried.

He launched into another chorus, this time faster than the last, and soon the song hit a heady crescendo through which Gabrielle let out rowdy hoots of encouragement. With a flourish of plucked strings, the song ended, and Joxer sagged, exhausted.

Gabrielle applauded, shaking her head. "By the Gods, I didn't know you could play like that!"

"Ahh, that wasn't so good," he said, waving a hand. "When I was a kid, Mom would make me get lute lessons every day. I was really good then, really good. I'm out of practice now."

"Puh-leeze!" She grabbed the lute and began to strum it, discordant notes plunking from the poor thing as if it were protesting its sudden rough treatment. "That's my skills! So shut up."

Joxer laughed, taking the lute back and nodding. "Yeah, I think we can both agree you're no Apollo."

"Now you're getting all snarky and superior," she said, slurring a little. "Lovely!"

He tilted his head at her, looking wry. "Your tender encouragement boosted my confidence."

"I'm just tellin' you how it is, no need to get cocky, you big dumb jerk."

Laughter lifted from Joxer, and he shook his head. "Zeus, you're drunk."

"So are you," she said. Reaching forward, she dug amongst their things for the amphora of wine. Joxer laughed again as she had a difficult time locating it amongst the pelts and Joxer's haphazard pile of doffed armour. "I want to be more drunk but I can't... are you hiding the wine?"

"No!" He shifted, and Gabrielle let out a little cry.

"You are! It's under your butt!" She pushed him aside, half-climbing over him to get the wine from behind him. "You're evil, Joxer. Hiding it from me like that!"

"Uh-uh," said Joxer, shaking his head. "I didn't put it there."

"Are you saying I put it there?" she asked him. She had settled back down next to him on the pelt, getting comfortable.

Joxer snorted. "Why would I do that?"

She tilted her head, gazing up at the stars thoughtfully. "I dunno, Joxer. I dunno why you do half the things you do."

"That makes the two of us."

She rolled onto her side, looking up at him. "Don't you ever stop and think... 'Maybe, I shouldn't do this. It might turn out badly for me.'?"

He wagged his head, "All the time. I do it anyway."

A hearty chuckle fell from Gabrielle, and she put her head on his shoulder, smacking his leg, barely making her target.

"See, this is what I love about you, Joxer. You go with your gut!"

He looked down at her, wobbling a little. "There's... something you love about me? I didn't think you even liked me all that much."

"Noo, no," she said, shaking her head, pulling herself up and leaning her chin on his shoulder so she could look him right in the eye. "See, I get frustrated with you. Cause I know you're a good guy, you're good and you're … " She frowned and huffed, trying to muddle through her mind for the right words. "Your heart is brave and right, but you get it muddled up on the way out somehow..." She shook her head. "Gods, I'm not even making sense."

"Yeah you are," said Joxer, stoic despite his intoxication. "I don't know, Gab. I ask myself the same thing every day an'... I dunno."

"It doesn't matter," she said, shaking her head.

"It doesn't?"

She shook her head again. "Nope. You're good'n'you keep tryin' and that's all that matters." Dropping a hand on his shoulder near the base of his neck, she squeezed the muscle there warmly. "You keep doin' what you're doin', Joxer."

Smiling, he reached for the amphora and took a swig. "That's the plan."

"That's a boy!" she said, smacking his leg again. "We're having a good time!"

Joxer gave a tentative smile. "Really?"

Gabrielle snorted, leaning forward and looking up into his face. "You can't tell when you're having a good time?"

He shrugged. "Yeah but... I like bein' with ya. It's more... you..." He gestured, waving a hand at her. "I mean, having a good time with me."

She sighed, tilting her head, and tentatively, she cupped his cheek. "Joxer... do you think I play scissors, papyrus, rock with just anybody?" He smiled at that. "I've had adventures with you. Talked into the night with you. Argued with you, fought with you..." She shook her head in wonder. "Other than Xena, who else can say that?"

He put his hand over the one on his cheek, stroking it with his thumb. "Not many people."

"Right," Gabrielle nodded, a little more than she needed to thanks to the alcohol. "I don't want to hear you put yourself down anymore."

"I wasn't," he said. "I just didn't think you liked me that much."

There was a confidence in his expression that was like itching powder in her heart, and she growled at him, pushing him in the arm. "Joxer!"

He made the mistake of chuckling at her. She got up onto her knees, pushing at him again. He didn't just take it. Putting the amphora aside, cork in place, he caught her arms, getting a hold of them about the elbows.

"What ya gonna do now, huh?" He lifted his brows, teasing her.

"Oh, I'll show you, mister Mighty guy," she chuckled, pulling her arms back, wrestling with him.

They were pretty evenly matched, Gabrielle more agile and coordinated than Joxer, but smaller than him. With a growl, Gabrielle surged forward, trying to push his arms back and largely succeeding. Joxer let out a surprised yelp, laughing heartily as they tumbled over in a pile, Gabrielle landing squarely on top of him, both their arms above their heads. She slid into the nape of his neck, and she was suddenly aware of the smell of his skin. It wasn't unpleasant... far from it. He was still underneath her, his laughter dying down, his struggles against her abandoned. She lifted herself up a little, looking into his eyes. Her heart pounded as she saw the gleam in those frightened obsidian eyes. She felt herself drowning in a giddy triumph that was more than the wine, more than her moment of fun. Was there hope in Joxer's eyes? Did he feel the same way? She'd never even though that... She needed to say something, but she didn't want to move, didn't want to break the moment.

"Joxer," she whispered.

"Y-yeah?"

She gulped, looking down at his lips a moment, then back to his eyes. "You wanna know something really -" She stopped and laughed. "Crazy?"

He nodded silently, gulping too.

"I... I think I'm... I mean I..." She winced, scrunching her face up for a moment as she searched for the words. "You remember that time, with baby Eros and the arrows?" She chuckled, shaking her head. "It was crazy..."

Joxer nodded, looking away, a tenseness on his face that was no longer eager. He looked like a man waiting for the axe to fall.

"I used to think that, Joxer. That it was crazy." She shifted, settling on top of him, and with a shaking hand, she ran her fingertips over his forehead, down the side of his face, the strong line of his jaw and to the little dimple in his chin. She smiled like a child, in wonder of the feeling that flowered in her heart as she touched him. She shook her head. "I don't really remember why I thought it was so crazy anymore..."

A deep breath left Joxer, and he closed his eyes, the hand above his head clutching Gabrielle's, the other finding her shoulder and squeezing gently. "Gab... I got a confession to make."

Her brows lifted in askance.

"During that time... with the arrows?"

She nodded.

"Eros never got me."

Tilting her head, she frowned at him. "He never..."

He shook his head, talking as if he were telling her someone she loved had died. "No. It was... it was all me. I... I-yuh... I'm in love with you."

A long, shaking breath left Gabrielle, and she rested her head against his chest, closing her eyes and letting the truth flow through her in strong, gripping waves. He loved her. He really, really loved her. Every look he'd given her that day, every smile, every kiss... Hades balls, every moment ever since!

She pushed herself away from him, running her fingers through her hair.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly. "I ruined it. I should have told you ages ago-"

"Tell me what?" she said, a dry laugh leaving her. She curled up around her knees, staring at the low-burning fire across from them. "That despite the fact that I treat you like crap and barely acknowledge you, you're in love with me?"

"Gab, don't," he said. "You've had a lot on your plate lately."

"It's not an excuse," she said. "It's not..." She shook her head, sighing at herself. "I look at you when you fumble, when you try so very hard and..." She laughed, feeling tears in her eyes. "I see myself, fresh from Potedaia." He went quiet. She glanced to him over her shoulder. "Every time I hit you I'm, I'm hitting myself. For being so damned... naïve! That maybe if I just beat it out of you, nobody will hurt you the way they've hurt me. If you just – got – tough! Maybe, you'll be okay. Just maybe..." The tears fell from her eyes and the pain, the dead, heavy pain from the horrors of the last many months washed over her. There was no hiding from it. She faced them now, faced this horrible truth. She adored him, adored his childlike innocence, his sweet, eager affection, and she couldn't bear to see the world destroy him. As it would, as it did everything beautiful, everything she ever loved.

She nearly jumped as a hand was at her cheek, wiping a tear away. She looked up, seeing Joxer's dark eyes gleaming with tenderness. He gave the softest of smiles, shaking his head.

"Don't," he said, voice trembling with emotion. "No tears. Not for me."

With hitched breath, she turned and sank into his arms, hugging him tightly to her, in a way she'd never held anyone, not since Perdicas, or the times she'd nearly lost Xena. Never, in all the days since she'd met this ridiculous man, did she ever foresee him meaning so much to her. She shuddered as she felt his hand stroke her hair, the other at her shoulder, running in small comforting circles.

"Nobody's ever cried for me before," he said, a note of wonder in his tones.

Gabrielle leant back from the embrace, looking into his eyes. "I'm sure someone has..."

"Not like this," he said, blinking slowly.

She took a sudden, deep breath in, his warm expression making her skin burn. His hair was tousled from their wrestling, his vest akimbo. His creamy pale skin looked gold in the fire light. He looked unbearably beautiful to her in that moment, and she cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs running back and forth in deft caresses. Slowly, she rose to her knees, still holding him, eyes never leaving his. The softness of her bosom brushed his chest. As he gazed up at her, she could see she was holding his very heart in her hands. Precious, fragile, intoxicating.

She burned in the moment, feeling every nuance of it – the way his hands rested at the small of her back, the way they shook, and always the reminder that this was Joxer, ridiculous, silly, loud, foolish, wonderful Joxer. Waves of understanding crashed higher and stronger, whipping her soul into a delicious madness. This was more than care, more than affection. She didn't want to think on what it was, she just wanted him. There was a side to Joxer here that she'd never seen and a frantic need to know it was consuming her. Looking into his eyes, she could see that it was okay. This was okay!

She couldn't help it. She laughed lightly, shaking her head, her nose touching his.

"What?"

She sunk her fingers into his hair, tilting her head, smiling tenderly. "I don't have words... I'm a bard, and I don't have words!"

He shrugged a little, his voice small. "Then show me."

With a rush of warmth in her heart, she pressed her lips to his. His kiss was firm, tender, her top lip settling perfectly into the curve of his lower lip. His hands gripped her back, his breaths light and rushed.

"Gab," he breathed.

"Shhh..." She pushed him back against their pelts and blankets, running a thumb over his bottom lip. "No words, dummy."

Her words were tender, and it sparked a confidence in the man underneath her. Joxer lifted his head, capturing her lips in his, his tongue flickering at her lips. She gasped, her body dipping against his instinctually, her fingers gripping the furry pelt beneath them. His hands slid up her back, squeezing her flesh. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss, and in a bold move, Joxer opened his mouth, guiding her in and teasing her with the tip of his tongue. She felt herself tremble from shoulder to toe, and she flopped against him, her propped arms sliding out past his head as she gave up trying to stay upright in any capacity. Joxer chuckled in the kiss.

"Mmph-you-mm..." He drifted off for a moment, then found his thoughts again. "You all right?"

She nodded, eyes closed, a delirious smile on her face. "I just had no idea you were this good at kissing."

"Well I gotta be good at something," he murmured.

He barely got to finish his sentence before Gabrielle's lips were upon his again, her fingertips stroking his jaw and neck. She didn't just lie still and prone upon him. She squirmed happily, dragging her body along his, delighting in the strange joy that was being close to Joxer.

A blush had grown rosy in his cheeks as she glanced to check his expression, and leaning against him, it was no mystery as to why. She looked down only quickly, then back to him, chuckling softly and taking her bottom lip in her teeth. "You don't waste any time."

"I'm sorry, it's just you feel so good and-" Her finger on his lips silenced him.

"Did I say it was a bad thing?" she asked matter-of-factly, brows rising.

"Heh...hehehe."

She grinning and nodded. "Right." She buried her face in the nape of his neck, taking a mouthful of flesh and suckling it hungrily, letting one of her legs shift between his and press against him. He gasped, tilting his head back, almost feminine in his vulnerability.

"G-gabri... elle?"

"Mmm?"

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to think clearly, a near impossibility when the woman of one's dreams was pressing hot, wet open kisses on one's flesh.

"Aren't we a little... oh Gods..." She'd found his earlobe. "… a little too drunk for this?"

After a moment she relinquished his earlobe, sighing and sinking her fingers into his hair once more.

"Joxer, what's your point?"

"I don't wanna be doin' this if you, I mean, it wouldn't be right if I-"

"You're as drunk as I am."

"...I am."

She blinked and widened her eyes at him pointedly. "Then how do you know I'm not taking advantage of you?"

He blinked and waved his head a little drunkenly. "Beeecause I really, really want this?"

Gabrielle pinned him with a smouldering smile. She looked him square in the eye.

"So..." She kissed his chin, "do..." the lilt of his neck, "...I." She opened her mouth on his smooth chest and suckled at the flesh. She could hear him panting, and she felt a smile in her heart as she tasted the salt of his skin.

She felt his fingers sink into her hair, and his voice was gentle.

"Gabrielle..."

She lifted her head.

"If we do this, I want it to be right."

Gods damn him all to Tartarus. He'd actually found a way to make her feel as though she loved him even more. She sighed, dragging her body up his, mainly because she was too drunk and too tired to lift herself up properly, and leant her forehead against his, lips brushing his cheek as she spoke.

"Can I keep kissing you at least?"

A goofy grin spread across his narrow face. "Don't let me stop you."

She grinned, smacking him playfully and snuggling to his side. Grabbing a pelt, she dragged it up over them, sinking into the veritable nest of furs. A satisfied moan of a sigh lifted from her as she got comfortable, wrapping an arm around him and settling her face into the nape of his neck. A contented weariness washed over her in the absence of the barrage of hormones, and she felt her eyelids grow heavy.

"This has been the weirdest night I've ever had," she said, pressing light kisses to his neck every now and again.

Joxer shook his head in wonder, gazing up at the stars. "It's been like a dream. I'm afraid to wake up."

Silence stretched on, and Joxer wondered if Gabrielle was going to leave that hanging there. He couldn't really move, so he listened. Her breaths had grown slow and rhythmic, her body a dead weight against him.

"How does anyone even fall asleep that quickly?" he muttered to himself.

He squeezed her a little, closing his eyes and treasuring the moment. It could end tomorrow. He could wake up, and as the effect of the Godly wine left their bodies, so could the affection of this perfect night.

Thank you, Aphrodite, he thought. Even if this night is all I ever get.

~~*~~