It was past sunset when they reached home.

Strange, she thought. It felt strange to be here, in this room with him again, in the bed where it all started. They hadn't been here together for quite a while.

She helped herself to the necessities and sat down on the edge of the bed, prepping the gash to be stitched. He was lounging on the bed behind her; his hand crawled on her back and stayed there, and she wondered if he had any idea how good he made her feel. For some reason, she hoped not.

The bounty; eventually, they were going to have to talk about it. The bounty on his head changed a lot. It required devising a plan of how to deal with the new circumstances.

Still, it didn't bother her as much as the realization that it was her who brought this on him. It was her who revealed his mortality to his troops at the Amazon camp; not just his troops — she had revealed it to the Amazons, as well. Now that Marga's tribe was at odds with him, the situation was not looking good.

Done with cleaning the wound, she went on to prepare the thread and needle. She considered using poppy seed ointment to numb the pain but decided against it; it made her slow and sleepy — she couldn't afford it now when his life was in danger.

She winced as the needle pierced through her skin. So, the word was out that he was mortal; and the trail led as far as here. It wasn't good.

On the bright side, this location was convenient — off the beaten track, with only one road to get here, not counting the mountain trail. It would be easy to keep the watch. In fact, the perimeter was already being watched by a group of scouts from the third village, the one nearest the main trail; they were grateful to her ever since she recently took care of the raiders harassing them; since then, it was agreed they would send a signal in case of anything. In spite of that, she did daily patrols anyway, just to get out of the house. She missed being on the road, and that was the closest to it she could get right now.

She would go there tomorrow and spread the word about the bounty hunters.

She froze in pain, failing to suppress a groan when she pulled the thread to make another loop on the split skin.

"Why didn't you use the ointment?" he asked, anger in his voice.

"I'll be done long before it'd take effect."

"Xena — why are doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Why would you rather suffer?"

She sighed in exasperation. She didn't want to reveal the actual reason to him; and what would she say? That she wanted to be able to protect him — because she was worried he might get killed, now that he was mortal? He was already self-conscious about his mortality as it was, she wasn't going to add to it.

"Is it the part of that ridiculous guilt trip you've been on since you turned away from me?"

She closed her eyes and sighed, at the pointlessness of having this talk with him; he would never get it, and as much as it had never used to bother her before, it was starting to, now — it was kind of disheartening, to realize he would never respect her life principles. The sudden realization, combined with the burning pain and the general frustration with the current circumstances, made her almost say something she knew she would regret, so she just tensed her jaws and took a few deep breaths to calm down. Until he got better at controlling his emotions, she had to be the bigger person, or things would get ugly in a heartbeat; which was a constant risk with both of them being hot-tempered.

"I hate seeing you in pain," he suddenly confessed with such sheer honesty that her breath got stuck in her throat. It was moments like this that he made her heart well up with such emotion she had to blink back tears.

"Ares, I'm fine."

Still with his back to him — she didn't want him to see the tears — she reached back with her right hand to find his. He took her hand in his and brought it to his face, to rub against the rough stubble of his cheek.

His skin was hot.

Forgetting her tears, she turned around abruptly to touch his other cheek and his forehead.

"Are you crying?"

"Ares, you're burning hot."

"So, tears of happiness?"

"You have a fever."

"Oh, don't stop, your hands feel so good, so cold…"

"They're not cold…" she muttered under her nose. He must have caught the flu from the girls. Oh gods, here came a week of whining… "Ares, you're sick."

"I know, and you love it, baby…" he breathed, kissing her wrist. His lips were hot, and she should go get something for the fever, but the hunger in his kiss made those thoughts fade, and so, she didn't stop him, when he pushed her on her back and slipped his hand between her legs, and went on to drive her insane with his touch till she was shaking; nor later, when he rolled her to her side, moving up behind her, grabbing her hips. She moaned, pushing back against him, dizzy from the way he kissed her neck, the way he gripped her hipbone firmly.

"I'm not finished with you yet," he whispered into her ear, nibbling on the nape of her neck, then down to her shoulder, sending chills down her spine. "I'm gonna make you full of me…"

"Oh, gods," she panted, moving her hips to glide against the hard length of him, all slick with her arousal.

"I love it how wet you are for it…" he breathed.

"Do it…"

"I'm gonna push it in slow… so you can feel how it's making you full inch by inch… until it's too much… just the way you love it," he whispered, biting on her earlobe, the blissfully unbearable fullness of him starting to force its way inside her; and gods, it was impossible, mindblowing; nothing in the whole world ever felt as dizzyingly good as it did when he entered her. "By the gods, I love being inside you…"

He moved his hand from her hip onto her lower abdomen; and she didn't know why, but his touch there set her ablaze; when his hand then roamed up towards her breast, she guided it back down to the previous spot.

"I love it how you show me where you want me," he purred into her ear, pressing down his flat palm against the taut muscles above her pubic bone, pressing down in the rhythm of him filling her. "Like this?" he asked, licking the outline of her earlobe.

"Mmmmmm…" was all she could manage, her eyes clenching shut; he made her inarticulate, brainless; delirious.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes…"

"I'm gonna come inside you, fill you up with my seed," he whispered, biting into her shoulder painfully, his thrusts turning fervent and demanding, his palm on her lower abdomen pressing harder, all of it sending a wave of scorching fire over her, head to toe. "Tell me you want it."

"Yes, please…"

"Ohh gods…"

"You're gonna make me come…" she uttered helplessly, feeling her control slipping.

"I'm gonna fill you up and make you mine," he breathed, his fingers tightening around her throat, sending her over the edge, crashing and burning.

He kept her locked in his embrace, their breaths calming down; and she wanted nothing more than to stay there, melted into him, and let herself drift away, but when she got a hold of his hand and felt how hot his skin was, she forced herself to get out of bed.

"Where're you going?"

"I'll be right back," she said.

She came back with a mug, and handed it over to him. "Here, drink all of it," she said, and smiled, seeing how he took a sip without even asking what it was; it moved her that he trusted her like that; and she then smiled some more, seeing his grimace.

"It tastes funny, what is it?"

"Lemon water with cinnamon and honey, it's good for you."

"You're good for me." There was a playful spark in his eyes, but there was also something warm and genuine, and it triggered her guilt.

"I'm not… I brought this on you."

"The fever?"

She rolled her eyes. "The bounty."

"Oh yeah, I wonder how much it is, what do you think? Maybe we could make money off of it."

"Ares, can you be serious for just one minute?"

"I can, Xena, but what's the point? The word is out I'm mortal, there's a price on my head; this would've happened sooner or later…"

"But it happened sooner because of me."

"You might have sped up the process, but it was inevitable."

"I don't know what got into me back then, it was unnecessary…"

"Xena, please just don't start with the damn guilt trip again…"

"It's not a fucking guilt trip, Ares, it's called taking responsibility for your actions, which is something you will never understand with that limited godly brain of yours…" she snapped, the pent-up frustration finally getting the better of her. She regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth. She saw his eyes flash with anger; she put her hand on his; it was warm, too warm.

"I'm sorry, I'm just tired and pissed off," she stroked his cheek apologetically, gasping at how hot it was. She was pissed off, at herself. For having been so reckless with blowing his cover, and then for being even more reckless to sleep with him without taking precautions from day one. Ever since their morning conversation she couldn't get it out of her head.

"Come here," he gripped her by her sides and moved her to lie down at his side, placing her stitched arm on his chest gently, this tender gesture alone erasing all her previous thoughts. Feeling his hand in her hair, and closed her eyes, because it felt so blissfully good to be with him, it was unreal.

She wanted to pick up on their conversation about the bounty but then let it go; it might've been one of their last chances to share a moment like this, and she wanted to absorb it to the fullest.

"Wanna sleep here?" she asked, nuzzling his neck. With his fever, it would be better to have him here, close to Pelagia and medicaments.

"Only if you're with me," he mumbled sleepily.

She bit her lip in a tender smile, when the familiar wailing pierced the quiet of the evening.

"I'll go check on her," she decided, reluctant to leave his embrace.

"Bring her here," he uttered, his eyes closing; gods, he looked bad.

She entered the girls' room to find Pelagia there — great, just what she needed — but well, since she was already subjected to the old nag's company, she might as well tell Pelagia about Ares.

"What can I get you, dear?" the old lady asked with the usual patronizing manner.

"We have another case of flu," Xena informed curtly, walking up to the table where Pelagia was changing the girl.

"Your husband, isn't it?" Pelagia guessed, a hint of merriness in her voice making Xena clench her fists in sudden anger. "Of course, it is — and it's no wonder, dear — every drunkard has a ruined immunity system, they're likely to catch just about anything, worse than babies…"

"I didn't come here for a chit-chat. And I'd suggest you pay closer attention to how you talk about him in my presence," Xena hissed, with a hint of her own kind of smile reserved for moments like this.

Pelagia smiled under her nose, unmoved. "A bit touchy, are we? Actually, you do look a bit fuller to me; how late is it?"

"What?" she stalled, pretending to not understand the question that she'd been asking herself for hours now and still couldn't bring herself to answer. In panic, she tried to remember if she closed the door to her room. Now that Melitta was just cooing instead of crying, they were within his ear span if the door was open, although — judging by how bad he looked when she'd left the room — he could've been passed out by now.

"Your monthly bleeding, dear — it should've started by now, from what I remember — and believe me, I have a great memory when it comes to the calendar."

Ignoring both her racing heartbeat and the satisfaction in Pelagia's voice, Xena sank her nails in the skin of her palms, and looked towards Melitta, who was now back in her crib again, all wrapped up and temporarily silent — but the short moment of peace and quiet came to an end soon after, soft little wails starting to fill the room.

She picked her up and nestled her against her chest, securing the little body with one hand and reaching for the terracotta baby bottle with the other. "I'll take her off your hands," she announced before leaving the room. "I'll come back for the meds later."

She was almost in the doorway when she literally heard Pelagia's smug smile when she said, "It's always a good idea to practice, dear."

#

Parched, Ares tossed and turned in bed. Xena was right about the fever, and it was now starting to get unbearable.

Going for a cold swim would be nice, but the fatigue made it hard to even go to the kitchen to get water; and he really needed to, because his throat felt like he ate sand.

So, here came another charm of mortality.

He had experienced occasional minor ailments before, but nothing that would knock him down like that. If the kids felt like that for a week, no wonder they had been such a pain in the ass.

He heard Melitta's crying fade out. Xena had to be feeding her.

That kid, though healthy now, somehow didn't want to stop being a pain in the ass. She would cry daily and was inconsolable until he held her.

Well, if he was to be honest with himself, he didn't mind it that much, that moment of the day where he would lounge with the girl on his chest; even being drooled and puked on didn't bother him that much anymore. There was something about holding this tiny creature in his arms, so helpless and depending on him, that made him want to keep feeling that way. It was somewhat similar to what he felt with Xena at times, but stronger and more confusing.

The unpleasant sound of the old hag's voice — very audible, too audible for his taste — snapped him out of his musings.

"What can I get you, dear?" Pelagia's dry politeness made his face twist in a grimace.

"We have another case of flu."

"Your husband, isn't it? Of course, it's no wonder, dear — every drunkard has a ruined immunity system, they're likely to catch just about anything, worse than babies…"

That damned old witch… he hadn't been drunk for days now!

"I didn't come here for a chit-chat. And I strongly suggest you pay closer attention to how you talk about him in my presence."

His brows furrowed, warmth spreading over his chest; if he hadn't been in love with her already, hearing those words would've done the trick.

"A bit touchy, are we? Speaking of babies — actually, you do look a bit fuller to me; how late is it?"

"What?"

"Your monthly bleeding, dear it should've started by now from what I remember."

He froze, stunned. They kept on talking, but he didn't hear anymore, heart thudding in his chest. He fucking knew it. He knew he had seen it; of course he did — he knew every inch of her body by heart.

He knew he shouldn't get too excited yet, it might as well be the pre-menstrual swelling; he knew it all by heart, ever since he'd had to endure Aphrodite when she was pregnant with Cupid and kept ranting about every tiny little detail there was to the female reproductive system; little had he known that there would come a day this knowledge would come in handy.

Aphrodite; he hadn't seen her since Olympus, and it was starting to worry him.

She had needed some time off after losing her husband, that was understood, but it wasn't like her to stay out of touch for that long. Though, on the other hand, he knew what mourning could do. He had an extensive first-hand knowledge of that, thanks to Xena. He had spent twenty five years thinking she was dead, and no amount of mourning had ever made the void disappear. And Aphrodite wasn't half as tough as him. And he couldn't get any connection with her now that he was mortal; and he had tried time and time again.

And it was starting to worry him for real, but for now — that had to wait.

Now, he needed to cool off about the whole pregnancy thing, and not confront Xena until they knew for sure. She was on edge as it was; now, with the damn bounty hunters after him, they needed to take care of that first.

He needed to get the ambrosia. Xena wasn't going to like it, but it didn't matter, not anymore. If she was pregnant, he needed to be able to take care of her, not have her roam around the country with him, fighting everyone that wanted a piece of him, and worst of all, having her worry about him getting killed — which he knew she did, and which made him feel like a piece of shit.

Back in the woods earlier, it was so obvious; she tried to cover his back and it cost her a distraction and a blade across her arm. That wasn't her; she would've never lost focus like that; and he would know, he had taught her that focus.

Maybe it was the concussion, maybe the injury didn't heal properly and impaired some brain functions. In that case, it was even more of a reason he needed his powers to protect her, pregnant or not.

Gathering a new army now might be a drag, with his mortality out in the open; and such news traveled fast; so the option with the Amazons was off the table.

Aphrodite.

There's plenty of ambrosia on Olympus, and she was still a goddess.

He was snapped out of his planning by the sound of crying and the sight of Xena in the doorway, holding Melitta and a bottle, the distressed expression on her face.

"You look bad," she stated, touching his forehead, her cool palms feeling good on his heated skin.

"Thanks."

"Look, she's already calming down, just feeling you near," Xena mused in wonder.

"She's not that different from you, you know," he smiled teasingly, making Xena suppress a smile of her own. He took Melitta from her and put her on his chest with such care that Xena held her breath; she had seen him do it many times, but this time it struck some deeper chord, watching his thumb brush the tiny head in slow, gentle strokes.

She couldn't watch it, she had to get out. Blinking rapidly, she jumped off the bed and her eyes fell on the mug at the bedside table, which she grabbed gladly.

"I'll get you some more water," she announced, glancing to him on her way out, but he didn't see her; he was lost, mesmerized by the tiny shamaness in his arms.

She entered the kitchen and put the empty mug on the counter, breathing heavily, her eyes closed, her head falling on her chest. It had to be her bleeding about to start in several days, because the emotional nightmare was starting again.

Wiping her face dry, she filled the mug with water and reached for the pot of honey, but the tears kept flowing. The feel of his hand on her belly this morning, she still couldn't shake it off. She shouldn't but she wanted this, she wanted it so badly it scared her.

She couldn't. It was out of the question. It might work for now, but when he became a god again, a child would create a new conflict between them, a new wall and more drama than ever before. She had to get a grip on herself and get the damn hormones in check.

Wiping her face dry again, she sniffled loudly to clear her nose, and went back to the room.

Ares grimaced at the mug contents, pouting his lips as if he was about to be sick. "Xena, I don't know what this is, but it's not made for drinking, not by people."

Xena took the mug from him and sipped on it, frowning. "Sorry, I must've have put salt in there by mistake. Alright, it tastes like shit, but it's still healthy, salt enriches the water. Come on." Then, seeing his puppy-eyed grimace, she added "Just down it in one swig."

"You okay?" He eyed her with concern. She didn't do things by mistake.

"Just tired."

He noticed her eyes were red, glossy. She had been crying.

Having drunk the beverage, he placed the empty mug on the bedside table.

She grabbed the mug, not looking at him. "I'll go get your meds, Pelagia must have prepared them by now."

She felt the strong grip of his warm hand on her wrist. "Come here." He pulled her down to join him on the bed.

When she rested her head on his shoulder, the sleeping girl's tiny little head was just inches away from her face; she inhaled the sweet, nutty baby scent mixed with his warm, spicy, musky one; and it felt like she was drowning, the intensity of the emotion pulling her under, filling every cavity, until it spilled down her face uncontrollably.

Her eyelids shut heavily; and she cursed fate for granting her this moment, for she knew that, days from now, the distant memory of it was going to leave her feeling incomplete for the rest of her life.