Look At You

Meg and Joxer's tavern, Sicily, a pretty long way from Greece, the year after S6E22

Gabrielle's head banged against the table, Meg's hand lay on her back, tears streamed down her face. "I-I-I- just-just don't know what I'm d-doing," she wailed into the stained wood of the table top.

Meg didn't know how to react, but when she thought about losing Joxer again she could understand what Gabrielle was going through. "There, there," she said, trying to be sympathetic but Virgil wasn't here and some part of her didn't know how to grieve for someone else. She'd never had to.

Gabrielle refused to raise her head and Meg had to leave her where she was sitting because there were a few men at the bar demanding more ale. As the tankards slapped down on the counter, Gabrielle spoke again, "everyone I love dies; Perdicas, my parents, Ephiny, Joxer, then Xena. I have no one."

Meg rolled her eyes and poured out the ale. This was the third night Gabrielle had stayed there and she was getting fed up of the pity party. It didn't help Gabrielle's case that Meg looked like Xena if she'd lived long enough to grow old and it made her think about all the time they didn't have now. There were days when she could hold herself up and defend villages, talk to people with strength and courage, and she could put the past behind her. But then these patches of grief would hit her and she slump into a corner and cry until she couldn't see Xena's face anymore. Yes, she was still having the dreams. But 'dreams' was not what she called them, to her it was torture sometimes, because Xena couldn't always touch her, and when she woke up the feeling of her had gone. Sometimes she needed something concrete, so she found a tavern somewhere that would let her pay for comfort. The girls were always attentive, and real, but they weren't like Xena, they were too in her face. There was new spark when they touched her.

Meg leant back against the counter and stared at Gabrielle for a few moments. There had to be a way to fix this, and she needed someone else's help. But Gabrielle was right, most of the people she knew were dead, but there was someone Joxer had mentioned that Gabrielle was close to, and calling her would be mighty convenient. So she walked out to the storage room and said, "Aphrodite? Mighty, glorious goddess of love Aphrodite? Am I just suppose to call your name or recite some spell thingy, 'cos I can't read?" But before she realised she was talking to herself, the goddess - dressed head to toe in pastel pink - appeared before her.

"Yes, you called?" She said, her hands planted on her hips and an attitude-ridden grimace on her face as she inspected her latest manicure. Then she looked up, "didn't you used to own a brothel?" She asked, being a goddess she'd always been able to tell the difference between Xena, Princess Diana, Lyla, Meg, Leah and various other incarnations of Xena, she remembered one from a couple centuries ago called Helena who caused a lot of trouble. But that was off-topic.

Meg looked anywhere other than Aphrodite as she nodded, a little part of her had grown ashamed over the years, of the person she used to be. Her years with Joxer had made her more stubborn, but also more modest. "But that's not why I called you here," she said, desperately trying to change the subject.

"Oh it's not huh?" The goddess replied, huffing as she folded her arms. "'Cause from what I heard-"

"It's about Gabrielle," Meg cut her off. "I heard you knew her and she really hasn't got no one else." She opened the door to the storage cupboard and let Aphrodite peak round the corner at the bard who was still face down at the table, her shoulders bouncing up and down as the tears burst out of her.

The goddess' eyes scrunched up and she put her hand to her forehead. "Gabby still not over Xena huh?"

Meg shook her head, "do you think you can talk to her?"

Aphrodite looked back at her like she'd just asked her if she liked pink. "Oh sweetie, this is my specialty," she said, cracking her knuckles and walking into the tavern. All the men sitting at the bar wolf-whistled until she teleported them to the road outside and locked the front doors. Meg huffed and then started to wipe the bar-top down with a cloth. Figuring she might as well close up for the night.

When Aphrodite sat down at the table opposite Gabrielle and coughed loud enough to awaken the titans, the bard looked up at her. "Oh it's just you, Aphrodite," she said sadly, having hoped she was dreaming and Xena was in front of her. "I though you were-"

"Xena, yeah I know." She laid her hands across the table and waited for Gabrielle to reach out to her. "Sweetie, what's going on with you? Aren't you supposed to be out there, fighting warlords and whatnot?" She said in her therapist voice, trying to get Gabrielle to open up.

Gabrielle mumbled something unintelligible back. Aphrodite shot her a confused look so she sat up, and wiped away a few of her tears. "I'll be alright in the morning I swear, it's just some days are harder than others, you know?" She could've begged Aphrodite to spell her so she couldn't feel love anymore, but she knew it wouldn't help, even without love she'd still feel the Xena-sized hole in her soul.

"Okay, if you're sure," the goddess replied. If Gabrielle didn't wanna talk she couldn't make her, and there really wasn't a lot else she could do. She could feel the love emanating between Xena and Gabrielle when she was alive. Now that it was so one-sided, there was an imbalance in the universe. So she helped Meg put Gabrielle to bed and promised her that she would keep an eye on the bard, make sure she didn't go and do anything stupid. Mind her so that maybe she could find love again, after all that was her job.