Megara started Hercules's birthday off the only way she thought appropriate. A shopping spree. New sheer lavender shawl. New perfume. Enough wine to turn her guilt into a classic Theban mania. After all, Dionysus was her people's patron god and, technically, her cousin. If anyone could help her act her psyche out, it was him.
Wonder Boy had nice digs. Considering that the Villa was built on the ruins of one her brother Menoikeus built himself, she was interested to see if any signs of him remained. Her elder brother had never suspected their father would become king and had never seen the day. But he'd still been a prince, and he wanted to establish himself aside from the palace on the Acropolis. Had he lived, he'd promised to move his sisters into this house. But it had never been finished. Resources went to the war effort. Menoikeus had sacrificed himself for his nation.
Now Megara stood outside the gates, admiring the grandeur. It rivaled her father's palace. Menoikeus would be proud, but the old deadbeat was probably squirming at it.
A group of crazed adolescents– really, shouldn't someone be watching these girls so they didn't embarrass themselves?– was climbing over Herc's gate, and she followed. It seemed there was no better way to blend in than to pretend she was one of the groupies.
Something was unsettling about the way they were all wearing matching outfits but in different colors. Each of them had on a two-piece chiton, like a pack of mismatched cheerleaders. Was Hercules into that? She no longer had her uniform, but she hadn't forgotten all her cheers…
Once inside the mansion proper, the girls crept toward their target with the precision of bees to a very large flower.
Megara took her time, giving the girls the space it took to observe what they did without alerting them to her presence. Menoikeus would have loved these gardens. He enjoyed order and symmetry above all. He wasn't much of an artist, but his appreciation for the finer things remained intact. She hadn't been to the Elysian Fields in her whole time since arriving in the Underworld, but she prayed her brothers were there.
The girls threw the doors to Hercules's mansion open and released a chorus of screams worthy of a murder of harpies. Megara would know. She'd gathered their feathers a few times because Hades insisted they had potion-making properties. The Hercules fan club charged unwelcomed into his mansion, providing the perfect diversion.
She had to give it to these girls: they had the lung capacity to match their audacity. Megara slipped behind the door while their war cry still rang through the air.
From the shadows, she watched as Hercules submitted to the onslaught of a mere handful of teenage girls. They swarmed him while he made minimal gestures toward asking them to stop. He allowed them to climb on him, pull at his armor until they exposed his chest, and then someone finally ripped off his sweatband. She sat atop his shoulders and crowed over her victory while the other girls screamed in maniacal jealousy.
It would blow her cover, but Megara was starting to think she ought to intervene. There was no way Hercules would allow this to happen to anyone else. He had gone limp as the girls stamped on his face, then formed an unholy pyramid over him doing gods-knew-what. From Megara's angle, they might have intended to undress him completely.
"Happy birthday," she mumbled to herself.
At the moment, it seemed Phil had the situation under control, but if he failed, Megara would have to create a distraction herself. He may not have understood before, but he would never question her experiences with other men after this. She'd have to spoil him to make up for this violation once she had him to herself.
Phil blew his Pan flute, and it was then Megara noticed Hercules had slipped out from under his bevy of hormone-addled attackers.
He was good, but he needed a spine.
Phil lured all the girls to the veranda, and Hercules was hers.
Megara slowly nudged the door closed with a look of disdain. She settled a spear through the handles to lock it before she strode through the atrium. The red marble and golden deer were a nice touch. Masculine yet still whimsical. It suited him.
He hadn't gone far, she discovered as she scanned the room. There were his toes sticking out from under a curtain. He tapped his feet in a rhythm, like a nervous child. Poor thing. It was time to play.
"Let's see," she said theatrically, grabbing the curtain's rope and pulling it away from her quarry. "What could be behind curtain number one?"
Hades had given her plenty of tasks in the past, but none of them had been quite so entertaining.
"Meg!" Hercules gasped in a hoarse voice. The poor creature. She was probably the last person he wanted to see him with his armor in disarray and the impression of a kiss on his cheek. He looked like he'd taken up her job for the afternoon. A better person than her wouldn't have found this so amusing.
"I had to visit my favorite demigod," she said, smirking up at him, "I didn't realize there'd be a line." She tapped her cheek to indicate someone had left a mark on his. "Luckily for me, your billy goat wasn't around to sweep me out with the rest of the trash."
A goofy smile had formed halfway on his face, but his expression turned grim. "Don't say things like that about yourself."
She could, and she would. Megara flopped down on a couch next to an amusing toy collection. "So, I take it you're a little less innocent since the last time I saw you. I thought for sure those girls back there were going to uncover something you weren't ready to show them."
"It should be pretty simple. If I'm not taking the armor off, it stays on. Right?" He tilted his head toward her.
"You're probably the only man in Greece who understands. That's why you're the best."
He brightened. "I am?"
"Don't you know that? There's songs about it in the streets."
"I don't get out much," he mumbled. "I can't go anywhere without being mobbed–" he checked the direction of the door and sighed. Thanks for locking it… That happens all the time, but I think Phil likes it, so he won't keep the door locked."
"He's not the one anyone's here to see." In a petty move she wasn't even ashamed of, Megara squeezed a Phil toy until the eyes popped out. "Think your nanny goat would go berserk if we played hooky this afternoon?" she asked.
"Oh, gee… I dunno, Phil's got the rest of the day pretty much booked?" He was reluctant, but the nervous response was the same as a little boy who wanted to do something he knew would get him in trouble.
It was time to be a terrible influence.
"Ah, Phil, Schmil!" Megara tossed the Phil figurine over her shoulder and stepped up to him. "Don't you ever want to get out and see the city the way it's meant to be seen?" she purred.
Hercules's lashes lowered. He looked tired, but that wasn't it. "What do you mean?"
"Well, for example…" Contrary to the teenagers's clumsy pawing, Megara delicately fastened the pins that secured his cape and brushed some footprints off the breastplate. "You've got unlimited access to all the city's finest spots. Rooftop restaurants… theater box seats… and any time you go, you must sit next to a mannerless satyr who treats you like a schoolboy. It's your birthday, and so far, nobody's celebrating. I promised I'd come see you today, didn't I?"
"You did…" His eyes briefly flickered toward the door, but then remained firmly ensconced on her face.
"You know what I think? I think if you're too tired to fight, things'll stop going your way." She rested her hands on his shoulders while smiling her lopsided grin up at him. "Why don't you play hooky with me, Wonder Boy? Let me make your birthday one to remember."
His eyes widened, connecting dots.
Good. Give him time.
Megara played with her hair, waiting to hear what he'd say.
"Is that what you want to do?" he asked. There was weight to his voice that caught her off guard. He wasn't simply lovestruck. Something more lingered in the question. It was clear to her that he was stepping closer because he wanted her to convince him.
Well, she could do that. "I want to be with you," she whispered and felt him shiver. She trailed her hands up his arms, making him shiver, then sharply gripped the neckline of his breastplate to pull him to her level.
He went, moving like a ragdoll, giving her the same deference as he did the girls who assaulted him. Wide-eyed and blushing, there was no doubt he belonged to her.
"Just follow me out the window, 'round the dumbbells, you lift up the back wall, and we're gone!"
Hercules smiled. "You make it sound so easy… All right. Lead the way. I'll do whatever you ask."
"You keep saying that, but you've gotta learn to put your foot down. Like that raging bitch did to your face."
"Aw, she wasn't a–"
"She stepped. On your face."
"That's a good point. They just get so excited, y'know?"
"There's excited, and then there's, 'if you don't back off, I throw hands,' and she was the second one. They all were."
"They're just kids. Not much younger than us, but it wouldn't be fair for me to fight back."
"Yeah, it's never really a fair fight when you're in the mix, is it? Nothing gets by you." She climbed onto the windowsill and peeked out to check for any signs of Phil. "Come on. Hope you're fast."
Hercules seemed to take this as a challenge. He dove toward the window and caught Megara in his arms. "How's this for fast?" Once on the other side of the window, he clutched her to him and charged toward the back wall.
It was a blessing, Megara considered as his run jostled her, that she was only afraid of heights, not great speed. "Okay… you definitely win…" she leaned against his chest.
"I've never lost a race unless it was with Hermes, and I made him work for it." Hercules puffed himself up with pride, an intriguing thing to witness. "What?" he asked.
"I'm surprised you get bigger." She patted his shoulder. "Let's get under that wall."
He really was innocent, because he didn't make a single joke playing off her remark. Hercules merely did as he was told and held the wall up for her to climb under. Good thing the foundations were shallow.
"Sweeet freedom!" Megara stretched as Hercules lowered the wall back into place. "All right, buddy, you're mine now." She offered him her hand. "Forget the gods, your little cloven-hoofed taskmaster, and everything you think you know. Tonight, it's just you and me."