The following two scenes are essentially transcriptions from two episodes (with a bit of description of the how the characters say things). I include them here as a prologue to this next bit of the story.

From "The Quest" immediately following the kiss:

The kiss ended with both Gabrielle and Autolycus staring at each other, astonished.

Autolycus spoke first. "Well, I—hope you two worked things out."

"We did. Thank you." A puzzled expression crossed Gabrielle's face, then she smiled. "I mean that."

"Oh, certainly," he granted, blustering. "Whatever's necessary. I'm here for you both."

"Autolycus?" she said gently.

"Huh?"

"Get your hand off my butt."

His eyes grew wide in shock as he realized where his hand was and just how close they were standing to each other. They both jumped back.

He sputtered, trying to laugh it off. "Oh! Can you imagine?"

Then his own hand smacked him in the face and knocked him to the ground.

0000000000

From "Vanishing Act":

Autolycus wanted Xena's help—and wanted it done "his way." Xena was beyond irritated.

"Why would I want to do that?" she challenged.

"As a favor to me?" replied Autolycus, turning on the charm.

"No," Xena snapped back.

"Oh, I get it. What have I done for you lately, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, nothing besides letting you live inside my body while I risked my life to steal back your shapely corpse, all the while having to endure Gabrielle whining and crying twenty-four hours a day about how much she misses Xena…" Autolycus trailed off, his voice mocking Gabrielle.

"Are you quite finished?"

"That depends. Did it work?"

"It worked."

"Then I'm finished."

00000000

In the middle of "The Quest," shortly after the kiss:

Autolycus and Gabrielle again rode Argo through the trees and brush, this time toward the river, where they intended to hide the coffin. Autolycus felt Xena still present as he touched his face where she'd used his own hand to knock him down.

"Xena, was that really necessary?" he thought indignantly at the soul sharing his body. "You were the one who put your, I mean my, hand there. You know full well I had nothing to do with that."

If this had been a face-to-face conversation, Xena would be turned away, not letting him see her expression. She growled, but did not deny what he said—she couldn't.

"We're not talking about it."

"Why? What are you—" he paused thoughtfully, thinking of the tired bard at his back, presently quiet. "You don't want her to know. But—" He stopped, at a loss, but of course she heard his jumbled thoughts, and what was more like a sensation: his awareness of the undeniable passion she felt for Gabrielle that made his own flirtation with Xena look like the trivial thing it had been, while this between the two of them felt like—the earth under their feet. "OK, I'm failing with the similes here. But this—it's got a power that would unsettle the gods themselves." His mind automatically ran through all the usual reasons for hiding such feelings: that it wasn't reciprocated, that others would judge...

The presence in his mind was sullen and silent—rather typical, he thought—but he "spoke" to her anyway, surprising himself with the awe and gentleness in his tone: "Since when did you care what anyone thought?—and you know you don't have to worry about whether she reciprocates—I was there just now, I saw what you saw, in her eyes."

A sullen grunt, still resisting.

"And she was more than fine with the hand where it was, as long as it was yours," he pointed out mischievously.

A pause. "It's complicated, Autolycus—maybe I'll explain sometime, but you stay out of this."

"Of course!" he conceded. "I'd never—look, it's for the two of you to work out. I'm just pointing out the obvious here."

"Noted. Now, let's get on with this."

A few moments later, Gabrielle spoke, pointing to their left. "Is that the river?"

He heard the rush of water and saw a subtle change in the foliage. "I think so," he replied, and he guided Argo around large rocks and thick vines. Argo seemed to know exactly where they intended to go. He wasn't used to horses being this responsive to him, and figured it was because Argo sensed Xena in him.

At the river, they both shoved the coffin into the water. He noticed that Gabrielle put all her strength into pushing, though she was obviously exhausted. As the coffin that housed Xena's body began floating downstream, Gabrielle watched it. Though this plan had been her idea, she looked like she was having difficulty with it; her face in the moonlight looked stricken.

Autolycus waited next to her. This was the grieving Iolaus had described, and it was hard to witness.

"Gabrielle?" he said, interrupting her thoughts.

"Oh. Uh, we'd better get going."

"I was thinking, we're going to need rest. I know I do. It's going to take some time to find the cave that's named in the map. What do you say we camp, and get a fresh start come dawn?"

Gabrielle considered, and agreed.

They found a spot near the river where they'd be well-hidden and lit no fire, and shared some provisions in silence—hard cheese and bread. Autolycus was aware again of the aches in his muscles from the acrobatics Xena had used his body to do. He was also aware of Gabrielle, who barely ate, and who seemed to be struggling with something unpleasant.

Not sure what to do, he tried to ask Xena for guidance, but she was elsewhere.

00000000

Gabrielle stared at the coffin as it slowly floated downstream, a cold despair gripping her heart. Watching Xena's body leave her felt like a ripping sensation inside. The euphoria of "seeing" Xena again, the hope that she could return, was fading, and this entire adventure felt hopeless and ridiculous. She knew she was depleted, emotionally and physically, from the events of the past few days—knew this could simply be that exhaustion talking—but still she couldn't shake it. She was about to lose it when Autolycus's hesitant voice suggested they find shelter and rest for the night, and she was grateful for suggestion.

Sitting with food that in no way interested her, she felt her body's deep gratitude for the stillness. She could almost fall asleep sitting there in front of where the campfire would have been, and desperately wished for Xena's presence, bored and sharpening her sword…

"I'm afraid to go to sleep," she blurted out suddenly.

Autolycus looked up with a bit of that perpetually startled expression he seemed to be always wearing lately. He'd been arranging a spot where he could do just that.

"If I sleep, I'll have the dreams again. Xena, dying."

She could see Autolycus's concerned eyes on her—and could tell it was Autolycus alone for now. He was listening, and that made it possible to unburden.

"You know, it should be easier now—now that there's hope, now that there's a way to help Xena come back, but it's almost worse, this hope. I was almost there, I think, with the Amazons—I'd started to accept that she was gone." It was an incredible relief to say aloud the feelings and thoughts about Xena that whirled through her head. She'd shared a bit with Iolaus and then with Ephiny, but there hadn't been much time, and Ephiny really didn't know Xena. Now she spoke at length, and it hurt when the knot of grief in her began to unwind, but it also helped.

Finally, she looked up at Autolycus and asked, feeling very small as she did so, "Did you—have you ever lost someone like that, who was—everything to you?"

For a moment he looked surprised at this personal question addressed to him. She knew from the wince in his expression and his downward glance his answer, even before he spoke. "Yes, I have," he said in a low tone.

"What—how did you survive it? What do you do?" she pleaded.

He sighed. "I don't know." He laughed slightly, at himself. "I don't think my example is the one to follow."

Curiosity tugged at Gabrielle. "If you don't mind my asking—who was it, for you?"

He definitely looked pained now, and hesitated a moment. "My brother. He took care of me, and when he was gone—" he faltered, then looked at her. She saw a determined light in his eyes. "Gabrielle. We're going to do everything we can."

"Yes, we are," she said with matching resolve. "I just don't know if I—sometimes it's too much." She was starting to cry now, and noticed vaguely that Autolycus seemed alarmed at this, but the agony, uncertainty, and emptiness in her were overwhelming her.

She felt a blanket pulled around her carefully, and heard Autolycus say, "Why don't you get some rest? I know you might not be too fond of sleep right now, but—I think you need it." The kindness in his tone just made it even easier to cry, so she did. Keeping control, keeping together—none of that mattered anymore, nor did it matter that Autolycus saw her like this. Nothing mattered then but the chill inside her, the dread that there would be no relief from the agony of Xena's absence.

Without thinking about it she turned to the thief hovering awkwardly next to her and bawled into his shoulder. She noted vaguely that he started to pull back, and then got very still. In spite of the emotions washing through her, she thought with faint amusement of how he'd gotten the blanket around her with a minimum of actually touching her—he was wary of Xena's wrath still (and what a wonderful thought that was, of Xena still being able to act in the world). She didn't care if he was disturbed—she needed something solid and friendly to hold onto.

It was hard to speak through her sobs. "You. Don't worry. She—she won't have a problem with this."

The thief's voice was unsteady as well, oddly. "You're so sure her jealousy won't get the best of her again?" he said, as though he were trying for a joke.

Jealousy? That's an odd word to use, she thought, but she replied as best she could with a parallel lightness in her voice. "I'm sure you're safe."

He didn't argue, blessedly, but relaxed slightly and very carefully reached around to hold her, and she wept as much as she needed to. After a time, she felt exhaustion begin to claim her.

00000000000000

It was bad enough to see all too clearly Gabrielle's fear and grief, but hearing her talk about it unsettled Autolycus in all sorts of ways that he really wasn't ready for just then. There was an openness about her that he felt wary of in normal circumstances, and now it was getting downright scary. She was a lot like Iolaus that way, the thought occurred to him—but the thief had plenty of ways to guard against the curly haired partner of Hercules—he could mock and irritate to his heart's content, and it never failed to put Iolaus on the defensive.

He had no such recourse with this one, most definitely not in the present circumstances. And she had a way of asking the most pointed and difficult questions, with that open honest face—

He didn't know what to do. He did not want to see, hear, and feel all this hurting in her. He couldn't defend against it at all—and he felt helpless to do anything to soothe. He tried to just stay there, to listen, to not let it tear him up inside. She'd have to sleep soon, and maybe then he could work on his defenses, put all this out of his mind.

But when she started crying on him, he froze, and realized he was done for. There was no defense now. He wondered distantly if she even realized what this was doing to him, and then figured that she either didn't notice or didn't care, given the burden she was carrying.

In spite of his words to the bard, he was actually hoping fervently for Xena to reappear. He'd welcome her fury, even—anything to escape this.

As another sob from Gabrielle shook him, he mentally called out a plea to the warrior. "Help me here! Tell me what to do!"

Slowly, Gabrielle quieted, and seemed to finally be taking his advice to sleep. It was a bit awkward, but not terrible, now—and the night was getting chilly, as cold air from the nearby hills traveled down the valley made by the river, so it was good for Gabrielle to be warmer this way. He shifted them both so that he too could try for sleep and so that she could rest comfortably on his shoulder without too much discomfort to himself. Again he adjusted the blanket around her.

He didn't want this, the damp shoulder, the trusting warmth, the sadness. It was entirely what he spent his time avoiding at all costs. He didn't like how much he understood what she was feeling. He didn't like how it all made him feel—worried, helpless, lost.

Then he felt Xena return. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do," he confessed to the presence. Even in his own head, he sounded far, far too shaken.

What he felt in response was more dark emotion than words at first as Xena "saw" the bard's grief, in her still tear-streaked face and in his memory. But then she spoke to him gently. "You are doing fine, Autolycus."

That was a reassurance he hadn't been expecting, and it eased some of his agitation. He still felt like something was stuck in his chest, something he wanted to get away from. Fortunately, he also felt a deep tiredness begin to take him over. The weight of Gabrielle on his shoulder, finally peaceful, pulled him down into sleep, and just before he dropped off he was aware of Xena's spirit keeping watch over them both.

0000000000000

Autolycus was in a pleasant half-asleep state, aware of the vivid moon and the coolness of the night, comfortably warm himself, and too relaxed even to mind the numbness in his arm which Gabrielle was using as a pillow, when he heard her say something unintelligible in her sleep. It startled and shook him all through, because even if he couldn't understand the words, he instantly understood where the panicked sorrow in her voice came from.

The sound grew more agitated and he felt her shift. Instinctively he reached around with his other arm to her back, hoping to gently jolt her enough into consciousness to break the hold of the nightmare. But it didn't work: she remained sound asleep and yet panicked, and the sounds of that were not something he could tolerate.

"Hey," he said softly. "Hey. Gabrielle." His own voice was threatening to reveal how much this situation got to him, but Gabrielle wasn't in a position to notice that, and Xena—

He felt her presence then. "Xena, she won't wake up. Can you help? She says she's been having these dreams every night—"

"I know, " Xena replied mournfully—hopelessly. Perhaps there was nothing she could do, he thought.

He turned his focus to talking Gabrielle away from the dream and soothing her. "Gabrielle. Wake up. Xena's here."

Gabrielle's breath caught, and her hands grabbed his shoulders. "Xena?"

"She's near. And we have a plan. Remember?" He knew it mattered less what he said and more that he pull her out of the nightmare.

Gabrielle stared at him strangely, confused and tense, then her expression suddenly relaxed, and a joy lit her face. Autolycus knew then that Xena had done something to make Gabrielle feel her presence.

He tried smile back at Gabrielle with reassurance—see? She's here. Gabrielle nodded at the look, and then buried her face in his shoulder. She was shaking a bit.

He murmured, "Hey, you OK? Are you out of that nightmare?"

"Yeah," she said roughly. Then, "Thanks," sounding calmer. In the background he felt Xena's relief.

"Good." He carefully hugged Gabrielle close. "Try to sleep. You're not alone here."

She didn't argue at all, and soon she was becoming sleepy again, her breathing even and calm.

Autolycus found that he could not follow Gabrielle back into peaceful sleep. As he thought of the grief-stricken bard he held, he felt something stuck in his chest again. Why did all this have to be so unsettling?

0000000000000000

Xena hovered close, feeling helpless as she witnessed Gabrielle be taken over by her nightmare. She'd heard and seen and felt Gabrielle's fears about her for—days?—time meant little where she was—but to see her anguish again now was intolerable.

Fortunately, the thief woke and had enough of his wits about him to nudge her out of the nightmare.

Xena felt her anxiety settle and reveled in Gabrielle's now peaceful face. She could stare for days at the tired, completely lovely young bard, and her spirit burned with impatience at their separation.

She quietly, unobtrusively possessed Autolycus again to be closer to Gabrielle—and immediately felt his disquiet, an odd, stuck sensation. Suddenly she knew what was going on and she felt sorry for the poor thief. He was still holding her bard gently, but it was an effort for him to stay perfectly still—the heaviness in his chest was becoming too much. Xena looked back at his very recent memories, from a different angle this time, and realized: listening to Gabrielle all evening, seeing her sorrow, and now hearing her during her nightmare, had been too much for him, and it hadn't helped that Gabrielle had asked questions that had led to thoughts of Malacus. She saw in his mind/heart the thief's brother in a jumble of charged memories—he'd been a kind man, no wonder Autolycus' sorrow.

Taking a shaky breath, Autolycus shifted Gabrielle off of his shoulder and tucked blankets around her. Gabrielle, now thoroughly drowsy, murmured thanks and happily let sleep take her. Autolycus watched her as she dropped off, and Xena watched also, through his eyes. The sight of Gabrielle's calm and sleepy face reassured Xena, and she took in the peace of that.

The thief, she noticed eventually, was still anxious—he didn't want to disturb Gabrielle, because she needed this sleep and because he had no desire for his own sorrow to be seen, but he simply couldn't contain the emotions that were thoroughly unsettling him. Xena wondered how she could help the thief with that; in her own experience, when grief became too powerful, there was no holding it back, even for her, though she'd as often used it as a spur to violent action as to tears. Xena also knew instinctively that just then was not a good time to reveal how much she was learning about him, how much of this she "saw," so "talking" to him and trying to comfort him—naw. Besides, that really wasn't her thing, unless the person needing comfort was Gabrielle.

But perhaps she could help. With extreme care, trying for a subtlety she was usually not bothering with in this possession business, she tried to at least ease his anxiety about disturbing Gabrielle's sleep. Xena knew from considerable experience that once sleeping like this (she could hear Gabrielle's even breathing move into light snoring now) not much could wake the bard—and she'd often tried. Xena planted that thought in Autolycus's mind.

It worked—he lay back on the flat ground, and he relaxed with a sense that he was relatively alone. Now that he was no longer as worried about disturbing Gabrielle, the strong emotions in him found their way to the surface.

Xena's spirit instinctively backed off—the images and emotions were too much—but before she had moved away she had three distinct impressions. She had a sense of a much younger Autolycus, alone and utterly lost, kneeling next to the slain figure of his brother—

-and then, disorienting, she saw herself through his eyes—his fondness and fascination for her, and now grief and worry, and a determination to see this plan through that belied his protests and grumbling-

-and finally she saw Gabrielle through his eyes, his awe and admiration of her, felt how it tore him up to see Gabrielle in tears, and an instinctive desire to protect Gabrielle that Xena most certainly understood.

All this, in moments. Xena fled, to a distant place where she could keep watch but not see all this.

The import of the images stayed with her, though. Xena was moved. She wasn't too surprised—the thief's infatuation with her had been obvious since she'd first met him, though the strong regard underneath it was not something he typically showed. More importantly to Xena, for him to care this much about her Gabrielle earned a deep respect from her.

000000000000

Gabrielle woke just as dawn came, and found herself well-wrapped up in warm blankets. Several feet away, Autolycus was studying the small woven-together pieces of scroll which held a map to their destination.

He looked up and smiled tiredly at her. She noticed he looked ready to go, and imagined that nearly everything was packed—except these blankets and the food that was set out. With a pang, she thought of Xena, who liked to grumble at her sleeping in.

"Xena probably woke you—she's always an early riser."

"I'm sure she would have, but I got up first myself. I tried to tell her yesterday, my own paranoia is more than a match for hers."

He spoke lightly but gently, as though he knew this might be a touchy subject for her. Gabrielle fleetingly recalled his attentive listening and his kindness to her the previous evening, thinking how much more comfortable she felt with him now. And it felt good to talk about Xena with someone, and to think that what they would do that day would bring Xena back. Gabrielle realized, the sound sleep had given her back her optimism.

And, her appetite. She realized she was starving, and sat up and reached for the dried fruit and nuts.

"Do you know any Sumerian?" Autolycus then asked, preoccupied with the document in his hands.

"Some. What is it?" She scooted over, food in hand, a blanket still round her shoulders, to look at the words that accompanied the map. Between Autolycus, who had acquired quite a bit of arcane knowledge in the service of his thievery, and Gabrielle, who was always fascinated to learn language and story, soon they'd worked out much of the message—some flowery poetry, but also some quite useful clues.

Autolycus pointed up to the hills just north of them. "We'll be headed to one of the caves up there," he said. "See—with the light, you can just begin to see them."

"So, we aren't very far."

"No, we're not—but neither are the Amazons who are chasing us," Autolycus replied ruefully.

"They're probably waiting for us to make a move."

"Which means we'll just have to go quietly. I can help with that—at least until we have to leave the shelter of trees and climb up on that rock to the caves."

"OK, then, I'm ready," Gabrielle said with energy, her actions matching her words as she got up and stowed blankets in Argo's pack.

In short order they were ready, but Gabrielle paused. "We need as low a profile as possible, then-not speed."

Autolycus looked at her, puzzled at what she was getting at. "That's right."

Gabrielle spoke decisively. "I think we should leave Argo here. She can't help us climb those cliffs anyway."

"That's a good idea. But—"

Gabrielle smiled. "How will she know what to do? How do you think she knew to be there at the Amazon village when you—when Xena—called for her?"

Autolycus shrugged. "Whatever you say. I'm just the thief for hire, here."

Gabrielle glanced askance at him at that—his statement was wrong in several ways, but she didn't argue. He could minimize his role in all this if he wanted, but she wouldn't make that mistake now.