A/N Thank you for the reviews - and a special thanks to Princess Shania for the PMs - I'm excited to have people interested in one of my stories after being away from the site for so long!
I know Pythagoras may be a little out of character in this chapter but he's angry - and we all say and do things we don't mean when we're angry.
Three Weeks Earlier
If he was honest with himself Jason had felt grumpy and out of sorts all week. Not knowing their place or purpose in the world could drag a person down in the end and the Oracle's vague foreshadowings of glory did little to cheer him. Having snapped at Pythagoras for the third time that day he had felt it prudent to take a walk to try to clear his head. It hadn't really helped however and he found himself finding fault with everything around him – from the fruit on the market stalls, to the dust in the street. Even the hot, dry air seemed to offend him by its very stillness. What he wouldn't give for hint of breeze right now, or, better yet, some good old fashioned English rain! Instead all there was was heat and dust, and his tunic stuck to him uncomfortably as he wandered listlessly through the streets. Pulling the rough homespun material away from his overheated skin he wondered again why the ancient Greeks couldn't have discovered t-shirt material. He stopped and closed his eyes as a wave of homesickness briefly overcame him. Of course that was what this was really about. Put simply he was missing the world he had grown up in and nothing in Atlantis would manage to please him until he could shake off the feeling. He sighed. It had been unfair of him to take out his own bad mood on Pythagoras – especially as the young man had shown him nothing but kindness from the moment he had quite literally crashed into the mathematicians life. Well there was nothing for it but to apologise and to try to behave if not more cheerfully then certainly in a more civilised manner.
Making his way up the steps to the house he paused outside the door as he heard raised voices inside. Pythagoras and Hercules appeared to be having an argument. While it was not unusual to hear them bickering (or to join in – normally on Pythagoras' side), he couldn't recall hearing them actually have a serious argument before. He waited, listening for a few moments.
Pythagoras was cross. His work wasn't going the way it should, Jason had chosen to take his own bad mood out on him over something remarkably trivial and, to cap it all, Hercules had eaten the last food in the house and clearly expected him to provide more having gambled away the last of their shared funds. Well enough was enough! He was tired of being taken for granted by his house mates (although to be absolutely fair he had to admit that Jason didn't normally do that) and when Hercules came in he turned to give the big man a piece of his mind. It definitely didn't help that Hercules had been drinking again and had found the money for the fresh jar of wine he was carrying – which he had almost certainly taken from the food fund. Pythagoras saw red.
Hercules, however, was completely oblivious to the enraged look the young mathematician was giving him.
"What's for supper?" he asked.
"Oh I don't know," came the dangerously low reply, "how about air stew? Or maybe you'd prefer some imaginary pie?"
"Are you trying to tell me we've got no food?" the large man asked, beginning to raise his voice.
"Yes, Hercules." Pythagoras snapped. "That's exactly what I'm telling you."
"Well why not?"
"Because you ate the last of it this morning. You left the rest of us with three black olives. Three! For the whole day!"
"Why didn't you go and get more food then?" Hercules was shouting now – as he usually did when he was hungry and no food was immediately forthcoming.
Pythagoras finally lost it.
"Because you took all our money," he roared. "And what you haven't gambled away, you've spent on wine."
Hercules' frown deepened.
"There always used to be more food than this in the house."
"That was when there were only two of us living here. There are three now and no matter how much you stretch it the amount of food for two will not feed three for the same length of time."
"Well it was your idea..."
"Don't say it! Don't even think it! Can you honestly tell me that you would prefer it if Jason hadn't come? If he hadn't been here you'd have been lion food, I'd be Minotaur food and Medusa would never have come to Atlantis."
"No, I wouldn't change anything." Hercules deflated slightly. "But he could get a job," he added hotly, his voice rising again.
"So could you," retorted the young blond. "Besides Jason could find trouble in an empty room without trying, and you know he can still be a bit ignorant at times about Atlantis and our customs. I sometimes think he wouldn't last a day without one of us to help him."
He stopped, thinking for a minute that he had heard a sound on the stairs. As quickly as it had come his anger drained away, leaving him tired.
"Look," he said quietly, "until we can get some money we'll have to try to cut back a bit. I think there might be a little bread left in the cupboard – but it's likely to be a bit stale. I'll go out in the morning and see what I can get."
Hercules nodded.
"Well you may not have been completely wrong about me and the food. I may have been a bit selfish. You're a good friend – maybe better than I deserve. I'll see what I can do about finding us some more work tomorrow."
He wandered into his room, leaving Pythagoras alone with his thoughts.
They always said that eavesdroppers never hear any good of themselves, but Jason had never really thought it was true before. Slipping back into the street he walked quickly away, hurt by what he had heard. He hadn't meant to bring trouble into his friends lives – if he was honest he'd never really thought about how much trouble had come to them in his wake – and he knew he didn't always know everything about this world but he did try to fit in. In fact he probably tried harder to fit in here than he had anywhere before. He sighed. Back in his own world he had never fully fit in. A largely friendless and motherless child he had become first a socially awkward teenager, and then a bit of a loner as an adult. Thanks to his father's stories he had always preferred the past or the sea to modern technology and consequently didn't really fit in with his media obsessed peers. In fact most of his friends had been much older then him – friends of his father's really who had got used to having him around over the years. The friends he had made here in Atlantis were probably the best he'd ever had and to hear what they said about him...
He sighed again and turned into a taverna, hoping that tonight wasn't a curfew night. Maybe Pythagoras was right in thinking he couldn't cope on his own – it was just that, even after living in Atlantis for a few months now, he still wasn't fully used to the idea of having a curfew. Sitting down at a table, he patted his pockets hopefully, looking for a few coins to buy himself a drink and drown his sorrows. Unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, his pockets were empty and he began to rise from the seat when he felt a hand on his shoulder pushing him back down, even as a drink appeared in front of him. He looked up to see the largest man he had ever seen standing beside him. The man nodded towards a figure in front of him. Jason looked back down and saw a genial and prosperous looking older man had sat down next to him. The man smiled.
"I believe I have the honour of speaking to the man who killed the Minotaur," he said.
Jason watched him warily, casting a quick, surreptitious glance at the giant alongside him.
"Oh don't look so worried," the man said. "I have a proposition for you."
When Pythagoras awoke the sun was well and truly risen. Making his way into the main room he stopped in surprise. Jason was humming happily to himself – which was certainly an improvement on his mood from the rest of the week – and packing a blanket into a bag. He turned and smiled at Pythagoras. The mathematician returned the smile warily.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"I've got a job," the brunette answered.
"Doing what?"
"I was approached by a rich merchant last night. He wants a porter to travel with him to Helios, fetch and carry, wait around until he's finished his business and then come back to Atlantis with him."
"Jason..."
"We need the money, Pythagoras. Don't try to deny it. Someone's got to keep Hercules in food. It'll be an easy job with reasonable pay."
"Who is this merchant."
"He said his name was Dakos. I'm going to meet him in a few minutes."
Pythagoras looked at his friend seriously. To his surprise he realised that Jason was preparing to leave wearing only his tunic and trousers.
"You're not taking your breastplate?" he asked, knowing that his friend rarely went outside Atlantis without it.
"Dakos thought it would be less intimidating for his business associates if I didn't" Jason answered, frowning. To tell the truth he wasn't really all that comfortable with the idea but it was a stipulation of the job.
"I really think you should take it," Pythagoras fretted.
"Relax," Jason responded, "you worry too much. I'm not going to get into any trouble working as a porter. I'll be gone for two weeks – three at the most." He stopped in the doorway and looked back at Pythagoras with one of his trademark bright grins. "Trust me," he said.