Mortality Sucks
by Taleen

You know as well as I do a man and his dog can be the best of friends, but when a man loves a woman, a woman who makes that man's body and soul ache in every atom, every fiber, every hair and tooth and nail until he cries out with need for her—well, old buddy, that's how I feel about Xena. Wanna hear about the last time I saw her? Was that a "yes"-bark? We might as well get comfortable, Horace, it's gonna take me a while to tell it. 

It all started when I'd heard Aphrodite was in trouble. No, not that kind of trouble, we gods can control our fertili — what am I saying, we? I 'm not a god anymore, and if what I'd heard about my sister was true (Greba is a gossipy pest but she does have her nose in everything; reminds me of you, Horace, on occasion) then her time as an immortal was coming to an end too.

I was in Rome to save my sister, if I could. I didn't know where Xena was. She would have helped us; she and Gabrielle were fond of Aphrodite even if they had no use for me, but I hadn't known where to find her.

I wormed my way through the crowd, clenching my nostrils against the stench of the rank, unwashed bodies surrounding me.

Fear hung over them like a cloud, a muddy, almost palpable aura. I swear I could touch it; I was half afraid it could touch me, afraid it would grab me and envelop me in utter despair. I tried to keep a mental distance, even if it was impossible to keep a physical one.

The scene unfolded in front of me: two bodies, roped to Caligula's chariot… the Emperor, laughing insanely, forcing a bystander to pierce the Imperial body with a sword, thus proving his godly immunity to harm. And then—why was I not surprised?—the Messenger of Eli interfered. It made twisted sense that Eve would be here at the hurricane's eye, spouting her Elijan peace crap as zealously as she'd once shed blood in my name. Could anyone be more fanatic in her conversion than the former Bitch of Rome?

That spineless pallid worm in the red toga and golden laurel-leaf crown continued to utter nonsense about an Eternal Cult of Blood.

Oh please. No subtlety, no finesse? No wonder the populace was so afraid. What did he know? Had he lived millennia bathing in rivers of gore? I didn't think so. How dared he call himself a god? I remembered well what it was like to be an Olympian, one of the Twelve. The memories overwhelmed me, making my head swim: the surge of the planetary tides in my veins, the power of the sun, the moon, the stars, the earth and our ability to control them at whim. And the blood…

A rumble of wheels and hooves coming full speed interrupted my revery; as quick as a fingersnap I knew, oh I knew whoit had to be….

An old man with long white hair provided me with cover; I watched over his shoulder as the chariot thundered down the avenue past me. The horses, a brown and a black, each with foam-speckled hides and feathered ebony topknots, plunged to a halt before Caligula. Strings of saliva looped from their mouths, dust billowed from their churning feet (all these words! what's got into me? I'm starting to sound like Gabbermouth).

The duststorm the driver had stirred up caused those closest to His Imperial Majesty to cough and sputter. My breath caught in my throat; it felt as if I too were choking, but on my own throbbing heart. The masked charioteer vaulted into the air, somersaulted over the horses' ears and landed gracefully before the Emperor of Rome.

Xena. Magnificent as ever. By Olympus how I love her.

I heard Caligula speak, "Well, I don't know who you are but I like your style."

"Yeah?" she answered. "How do you like this?"

I pushed through the onlookers and tackled her before she could plunge the knife she'd drawn from her boot into Caligula's gut.

"Ares, you fool," she whispered urgently, "What do you think you're doing?" If she was surprised to see me I couldn't tell. I was too busy enjoying our physical contact. She wasn't pulling away either, I might add.

But trust between us is never an issue. There simply isn't any, and it's my fault, mine alone. She might even have thought I was in cahoots with that prancing impostor, but surely she knows me better than that, surely she does. Doesn't she, Horace? But… we do have a history. My fault. All mine.

I drew in my breath and answered her with the simple truth. "I can't let you kill my sister."

I could see Xena's eyes behind the golden mask widen. Sis materialized in the middle of the street, lounging on an elaborate couch. "Ditzy Dite," I've called her since we were kids; she was always a bubblehead, but she'd never acted as vague as this before. She appeared to be in a drunken - or a drugged - stupor; looking wan and weak, worse than I had feared.

"Aphrodite's and Caligula's lives are bound together," I said. "If he dies you destroy her too."

My sister rose languidly from her couch, swaying on her feet. Dressed in greenish-gold (not her usual pink or mourning black), she had her blonde hair coiled in some crazy complicated fanshaped headdress instead of loose and flowing. However, it was her manner that unsettled me most. She needed support, and more than could be offered by a piece of furniture.

The soldiers lifted Xena and me to our feet. Me they were rough with, although I'd just saved their despicable leader's life, but Xena had a dignity that made them wary. They bent their gaze on Caligula, seeking guidance on how to treat her. I glanced around, looking for Gabrielle.  I knew she'd be there. She was always there. That girl is blessed, or cursed, in my opinion, with the most godsawful timing… Yep, there she was, dragging a recalcitrant Eve off through the crowd to safety.

And then my sister distracted me. What in Hades was she doing? She had come up to me and begun passing her hands all over my body, caressing me like a lover. Appalled, I squirmed away. "Bad touching," I tried to get through to her, "stopping now."

It seemed to work. She lost interest and I blew out my breath, hardly caring when I heard the Emperor say, "Take him to the prison, and that Elijan with him." Caligula turned away, not aware the Elijan was gone, and kissed my sister. I couldn't look away. It was more than a simple kiss; he was sucking her life force out of her, responding to her divinity as if he'd taken a pleasure drug, until Aphrodite collapsed in his arms.

He turned to Xena, licking his lips; I recognized a predator (I know one when I see one. Hell, I was one). Here was a fox who'd just chomped on a juicy chicken, a chicken who happened to be my sister; now he was sniffing around for dessert. I growled deep in my throat as he gazed up at Xena and linked arms with her, cooing, "I do so love tall girls." I saw her jump when the bastard pinched her, but there was nothing I could do.

The soldiers hauled me off to the dungeon.

I didn't know if I'd ever see Xena again.

The cell was chilly and damp, but it was large, with room to pace; I did, like a panther weaving back and forth in its cage, until the ultimate futility of my actions wearied me and I rested on the cot. At least it was quiet, away from the other prisoners. Near the bunk a jug sat on the floor, half filled with tepid water, unfit to drink. I had left the most of the inedible gruel they'd given me on the tray close to the door. I know, I know, I should have been eating to keep up my strength, but a hog would have turned up its snout at that garbage. I wasn't that desperate. Yet.

A nasty-smelling slop bucket squatted in the far corner; its odor made my nose wrinkle and my eyes sting. Another reason not to eat. Maybe I wouldn't be here long enough to have to… use it. Mortality really sucks, doesn't it?

Torches lit the stairs, dimly. There were others outside the cell; they seemed to cast unnerving shadows rather than encouraging light. Have I painted you a pretty-enough picture? That was the setting I found myself in when she finally came to me. Xena. My heart and soul.

I was on my feet in an instant. "Xena, thank the heavens! How's Aphrodite?"

She removed her golden mask and held it in her hand. Her eyes softened as she gazed at me and my heart swelled."I was hoping you could tell me. What happened to her?"

"I came to Rome because I heard she was losing her mind." I had to explain to her what I'd figured out. "You see, without the God of War the Goddess of Love becomes unbalanced." And vulnerable to that, that… thing out there.

"What does Caligula have to do with this?"

"It's like he's some kind of succubus." We walked along the cell. Even with the bars between us it felt good to be on the same side. "Sucking her godhood from her bit by bit. Now if you thought he was bad as an Emperor, imagine him with the powers of a full god. And there's nothing I can do about it."

"Maybe I can," she said thoughtfully.

"No, Xena," I said, worried that it might be more than she could handle. I reached out through the bars and grabbed her shoulder. "No."

Her appreciation for my concern showed in her eyes, but her smile was grim. "I've got to come between them before it's too late." She pulled her mask back on and headed up the stairs.

Stupid me. Xena would come up with a plan. She always did.

I felt optimistic for the first time.

There was obviously an orgy going on in the palace overhead; the high whistle of flutes and the rhythmic pulse of drums could be heard all the way down to my prison in the bowels of the earth. The soldiers who came for me seemed a little disconsolate because they hadn't been allowed to join in; they tended to jostle me more than necessary as we ascended. I could hear the sounds of lovemaking from the various chambers we passed, the grunts and moans and little screams, the slap of flesh against flesh; I cursed softly, afraid to think of Xena doing it with that little prick (have you noticed, Horace, how your mind always plays the nastiest tricks on yourself? No, maybe you haven't. Trust me. It does.)

My wardens talked admiringly of Saaba's blonde companion and her erotic fire dance. My forehead creased. Saaba must be Xena, which would mean Gabrielle was getting in on the act too. I had always wondered about that girl.

The palace stank of incense and too much perfume. A gong reverberated through the main party room as we approached, nearly deafening me. They ripped off my vest and shoved me out on the floor in front of the, um, activities. I had barely a glimpse of my sister, looking three-quarters dead, before Caligula caught my attention. He smirked and offered Saaba, I mean Xena, a sword. "Prove yourself," he grinned. "Kill him."

Son of a bitch! The little bastard meant me! Had he recognized me? Did he think murdering the ex-God of War would make him more godly, somehow? But as Caligula concentrated on Xena I realized he didn't know me, and I didn't know whether to be relieved or miffed by that. Maybe he had sensed our connection out in the street. My gaze darted to my beloved

I could see her eyes behind the mask grow large, then narrow. I could almost see her mind working, furiously thinking of and discarding plan after plan. Suddenly she spouted something about a floorshow and grabbed my hand. I had no idea what she'd decided, only that her strategies always ran truest on the brink of disaster.

Gabrielle joined in, stroking my arm and kissing my palm—why the little—what she was doing with her tongue! I tried to play along with her improvisation, remembering the one she'd pulled off at the farm, but as it went on it became clear to me once again that her normally demure ways hid a certain under the covers appetite. It increased my discomfort.

They both began to caress my chest. I could feel myself becoming aroused despite the audience, especially when Xena went for my nipple (she likes that nipple; I think she knows it's my "on" button).

She stopped and asked Caligula, "You want a piece of this?"

My blood chilled. In fact it positively froze. I stared at her, then cocked an anxious eye at Gabrielle. Had Xena gone too far? What if he agreed? Xena might have primed the pump but I wasn't… literally…up for it with another man.

Her left hand, hidden from the Emperor, pressed mine, telling me she knew what she was doing. I racked my brain, trying to think if she'd ever been wrong.

Cal backed off. Xena had been right again, although his inaction surprised me. I thought ol' Cal didn't care whom he did it with, sex was sex to him. But, hey, maybe my sister had been too much for him (she liked to brag that she was good at her job) and he wanted to hide his weakness.

Xena put on her slinkiest walk and swooped over to him, took off her mask and started to kiss him. Gabrielle and I stood, embracing without realizing it, staring at Xena through the flames in the bowl in the center of the room. We watched the woman we both loved seduce the monster. She'd done this sort of thing before; this time Caligula was the enemy, not only hers but mine too. Nevertheless it bugged the hell outta me, seeing it. Their liplock became a bite on her part, drawing blood, and I rejoiced inside. Take that, you bastard!

"You have no idea." Xena's voice oozed honey; she smiled at him roguishly and sashayed back to me. I watched her approach, hips swaying, eyes glittering, tip of her tongue protruding slightly. I braced myself. My hands started to sweat and my head started to pound and oh yeah, that happened too.

"And now let us entertain you." With a sweeping gesture she made it plain to the onlookers we would be indulging in this salacious play for their voyeuristic satisfaction. While they applauded she fixed her gaze on me, her lips forming the words, Trust me.

I think the music stopped. I know I couldn't hear it anymore. All eyes were on the three of us. When Xena started on that nipple again my blood charged south with full force.

I had a stab of doubt.Yes, she'd said to trust her, but my beloved always did give good tease; our past held countless examples of deception on both sides. Maybe she was enjoying this too much, getting back at me for every stupid thing I'd done to her. Did she hate me enough to completely humiliate me in public? I had to get her to back off but it was hard to speak when I could barely breathe. Attempting a little bravado and hoping my voice wouldn't squeak, I said, "You know, I've fantasized about this in a hundred different situations; I've gotta tell you, I never got to this scenario."

She squeezed my hand as if she needed to reassure me that she was only doing this, making love to me in front of a mob of perverts and drunks, to save my life. My doubts dissolved but of course I wanted more. I wanted badly to believe it wasn't merely a rescue attempt; I wanted to know she felt the same scorching heat between us that I did, that it wasn't all a game.

"Well enjoy it while you can," she said in her huskiest voice, "because in about thirty seconds all hell is gonna break loose."

I completely lost myself in her caress, forgetting our surroundings, our past, all our hurts and betrayals and disappointments. Gabrielle was there too but I was no longer aware of her or the others. I loved Xena; the tingle of her tongue and fingers on my skin and the tenderness in her eyes persuaded me that she loved me too. I'd dreamt of us sharing such passion only the power of my godhood could contain it. Mortality hadn't altered that vision, only strengthened it. Unfortunately my leather pants were strangling me, and if she kept going I feared my control would soon be lost. I wanted—I needed—to be alone with her, to return her touch, to be complete with her… I became more and more certain I sensed that desire in her too, sensed her own self-command slipping...

And then all hell did break loose.

Caligula discovered his bleeding lip and screamed in panic, "Guards! Put that woman in chains! Immediately!"

I said, "Now?" But I didn't want her to stop…

Once again I was roughhoused away. I looked back over my shoulder at Xena. She didn't seem the least fazed as she was chained hand and foot, but I don't think I imagined the regret in her last glance at me.

I hoped her plan was still working.

They'd failed to return my vest. I lay on the narrow cot against the stone wall, wondering if I was itchy because of the scratchiness of the single rough blanket or if it was verminous as well. Most likely both.

I turned my thoughts to Xena instead. We'd had our moments, back at the farm. I remembered snuggling against her in bed, her halfnaked womanly form fitting so perfectly to mine, and sure, my body responded to the memory. She'd freaked out and wrenched herself away. Had our intimacy felt as good to her as it had to me? Was it a guilty pleasure she was not yet ready to handle? I don't know, but speaking of handling (stop grinning, you foolish mutt—no I was not doing that!), when Gabrielle's hand had landed… where it did…Xena had looked both horrified and jealous, as if she hadn't quite dared to touch me there herself. She'd known it would escalate matters between us, and we weren't alone to pursue it.

I sat up when the door clanged and tried to keep the surprise off my face. I was not expecting company, least of all her.

The guards leered at me. "Here's a little something for you to play with. Have fun." They snickered as they sauntered away, nudging each other in the ribs and glancing back at us. I heard one whisper, "Maybe we should watch," but he was overruled by the other, "Nah, we gotta get back to the palace. The Emperor is expecting us upstairs."

Their footsteps and bawdy jesting faded away. I looked at Eve. She stood with her back to me, rubbing her upper arms. I sighed and offered her the cot.

She sniffed. I took that for a refusal and sat down again.

"I thought Gabrielle got you away safely."

She turned her head and glared at me. "I came back."

"Why?"

"To spread Eli's message. To save as many of his followers as I can. To make up for all the ones you made me kill."

It was kind of hard to dispute that. I had encouraged her bloodsports, after all.  I had been the God of War. The thought of all the blood spilled in my name gave me pause.

I was coming to understand the mortal condition, now that it was mine. I had begun to admire them for their fortitude, their willingness to keep up the struggle against the inevitable. Hey, I had always appreciated the instinct for survival. Death had been a tool and a toy for my pleasure, but unless it suddenly rained Ambrosia-filled cornucopias (oh, just one little one…) it would be my end too. Later if the Fates felt sorry for me, sooner if they hated my guts. And Charon, scabby, leprous, loathesome son of darkness that he is, I knew he'd laugh himself sick when he saw me waiting for his boat, desperately scrabbling for the coin to pay him. I swore I could hear his laughter echoing in my skull—gods, I couldn't bear the thought of it. I shook my head, trying to blow it away.

Eve watched me intently. I don't know what answer she expected. I wasn't about to reveal the morbidity of my thoughts to her.

"Suit yourself. " I shrugged. "I don't care."

"That's the thing, isn't it? You never cared."

I could feel her hostility blooming, emanating from her in waves like combers smashing on the beach. Poseidon' stallions, the bards said, but my uncle is dead, thanks to her. And she is mad at me. No justice, is there? This was the first time we'd been alone together since I'd become mortal. She must have been stewing over our past for a while, having managed to forget what I did, what I gave up, to keep her alive.

"Spit it out then, " I said tiredly.

"You never loved me."

"Did I ever say I did?" I'd never said it to any woman, except Xena.

That threw her, for half a minute. "You loved my mother."

"Yes. I did. I do." When I thought she'd died, I died too.I lowered my voice and looked away. "Twenty-five years of just going through the motions…"

She wasn't listening. "And I wasn't Xena. I wasn't good enough to take her place."

I was starting to get fed up. " Um… no, you weren't."

"You were just using me."

"Oh come now, " I rose from the cot and faced her square on. "And you weren't using me? To be Empress of Rome? To revel in the power that position would give you? Get real." What had I ever seen in her? She was so not like her mother.

"And if you'd known who I was you'd have killed me!"

I didn't answer.

"Wouldn't you? Wouldn't you?" She was almost screaming it, savage in her anger. She was right in my face; I could feel her spittle on my cheek.

I hollered back in frustration as I wiped it away. "I don't know!"

"Is that a 'yes'?"

I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and covered my ears. My fingers wound through my hair. When I pulled them away there were a few hairs wrapped around my knuckles. I stared at them. They were grey. Oh gods…

"I don't know what I would have done. I saved you as a baby. I'd like to think I would have stopped my sword, but it was a matter of survival. Mine, and my family's..." Yes, I'd like to think I would've protected her. For Xena's sake. In her memory. I made a fist and brought my hand up to my lips, mumbling around my own flesh. "I just don't know."

"I don't believe you. If it hadn't been for my mother you would have let me die on Olympus." Her whole body quivered with long bottled up self-righteous indignation.

"You're probably right. But it's a moot point isn't it?" I snapped. "You're here because I saved you. Try not to forget that because I know I won't." I felt like adding, you ungrateful bitch, but I didn't.

She deflated like a pig's bladder, all her bluster gone.

"Now leave me alone," I said coldly. I swung my legs up and lay on my side, facing the festering, gangrenous stones. I heard her step away and settle on the floor, and then exhaustion, emotional and physical, hit me. I slept.

The soldiers who took Eve out of the cell were alight with gossip about the Goddess of Sex. Took me a minute to figure out they meant Xena.

Forget Aphrodite, Horace. To me Xena is the Goddess of Love. One day it'll happen. You'll see. She'll love me…

They left me behind, which I found heartening. It meant my almost-certain execution had been put off awhile longer. I say almost certain because, although I'd never heard of Imperial prisoners being let go out of the goodness of Cal's heart, there was a possibility (and I certainly had the qualifications and looked the part) that I could fight my way to freedom in a gladiatorial arena, given the chance.

I refused to dwell on it; Charon would have me soon enough. Instead I worried that Eve's presence, when her mother thought she was safely away, might throw a cart-wrench into the works, ruining Xena's plans to destroy Caligula. I worried that Eve might get herself killed, not that I cared about her even a smidgen, but Xena… if Xena… if she… died …

 I wasn't sure when, or if, I'd ever see Xena again. I wasn't sure I could help Aphrodite, or myself, without her. I wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Only that I loved Xena more than ever; and if she died—I, Ares, former God of War and now a mortal man, didn't care to live. There, I'd finally put it in words. These were the two things I was sure of, the two certainties that haunted me in this wretched dungeon.

Eve wasn't gone long, and when they brought her back she had a bruise on her cheek. I figured that strident mouth of hers had got her in trouble again. She was followed shortly thereafter by Xena, free again and safe, thank the gods. Funny, now that I'm mortal I find myself saying that a lot.

I sat up on the cot. "What's happened?"

"Aphrodite's got her mind back… but she's lost her immortality."

I nodded. "So he's a full god now."

"It gets worse. Eli has stripped me of my power to kill gods. I have no way of halting Caligula's madness."

I looked at Eve; she wore a funny expression, a cross between remorse and rebelliousness. I couldn't understand her, and frankly didn't care to try, so I walked away and stood by the bars. I had to think. I was afraid, for the second time in my life, and it was worse than being swung over a firepit. This time the whole world was in danger. It was starting to look as if Xena's plan would fail.

I could hear her apologizing to her daughter—oh, so she was the one who'd hit the dear girl; I suppose even a loving mother could lose patience with a brat like that—and Eve's accusatory response, and then I heard Xena outline her solution to the problem.

Ah, my Xena. I love it when her plans come together…

I dreamt of gladiators, a score or more, challenging me in the arena. A rivulet of blood streaked the sweat and grime on my arm where one had scored a lucky hit, but oh, I'd made him pay for it; his corpse lay cooling in the dirt. I stepped forward, my blade creating a mesmerizing lace to befuddle the eyes and minds of his colleagues. The crowd called out to me, roaring encouragement, and my soul sang with joy. They'd never seen anyone as superior with a blade as the Mystery Warrior in black leather.My opponents, fewer now, kept coming but with dread in their eyes, and I laughed…

The celldoor creaked open; I bolted upright with my heart racing, trying to shake the fuzzies out of my brain. Had they come for me? Was it my turn on the killing field? Was it glory time or head-lopping time? Would I gain fame and freedom or would my death be slow and cruel and agonizing, the way I had executed those who'd irritated me in my pre-Xena past?

No soldiers after all. Xena walked in, carrying my clothing and weapons. I sighed with relief. Her lips twitched, but she said nothing, letting me keep my pride.

I shrugged into my vest and immediately felt, well, human. Silently, without expression, she passed me first one gauntlet, then the second. I couldn't read her, but I had to say something.

"Thanks." My voice was gruff. Must've been from the damp. I buckled my gauntlet over my forearm, never taking my eyes off what I was doing. "Thanks for not leaving me here to rot."

"Ares… "

I glanced up and saw the little vertical frown lines between her eyes. She handed me my swordbelt and said nothing.

You damned fool. "I seem to have a way of saying the wrong thing."

"I know. You're really good at it, too." She smiled suddenly. Her face lit up the same way I had seen the sun crack through scowling clouds, the kind of thing I'd never noticed when I was a god but that always raised goosebumps on me now. That's what Xena's smile did to me then, giving me shivers of pleasure. I think I hid my reaction, although I know she rarely missed anything going on around her.

"So what happened?"

"Oh, nothing much, a bet on a little chariot race. I won."

"Naturally." I hesitated. "And Caligula?"

"He's dead."

Her voice had turned brusque for the moment. I could tell she didn't want to talk about it. "Thank you, Xena. I mean it."

"I know you were here because of Aphrodite. You risked yourself for her." She lifted her fingers and stroked my temple lightly. I closed my eyes and sank into that tenderness, wishing I could wallow in it forever.

"It was a noble, unselfish thing to do."

"Maybe," I cleared my throat, "I could try to do it more often."

"Ares… If you could… " She cut herself off, as if afraid of revealing too much. I grabbed that nugget of  'maybe' and tucked it away in my heart.She dropped her hand and patted me on the shoulder like a dog (sorry, Horace). The big surprise came a few seconds later when she suddenly threw her arms around me and gave me a big, but oh too short, hug. I think I understood. She wasn't used to expressing her feelings for me any more than I was used to being on the receiving end. Or, truthfully, for me being worth the effort. I watched her turn away and walk to the stairs, not thinking I was free to follow. She had her foot on the third step when she looked back. "Are you with me, Ares?"

I had to lighten the mood. "You say when. Hayloft's good for me… " Although you, my love, deserve a palace…

Xena snorted, "Same old Ares."

She proceeded up the flight ahead of me. I kept close behind; my eyes never left her perfect, graceful, longlegged form.

No, I'm not the same old Ares. Not by a long shot. But dammit, it's a good view. So sue me.

The others gathered in Caligula's favorite room. I saw a huge bed covered in rose and gold fabric but I didn't care about the colors, I wanted comfort. I lay back on it, enjoying the softness after that miserable cot. Ditzy Dite, back in her pink silks, sat at the foot, and to my surprise, so did Eve. Guess she'd worked through some of her issues.

Aphrodite kept trying to zap out and kept failing. She wailed, "It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair, fair, fair."

"Welcome to my nightmare, Sis."

She pouted and turned to Gabrielle, "When you were trying to get through to me, when you said a couple times that you were my friend, did you really mean that?"

"Absolutely," Gabrielle assured her.

"How cloyingly sentimental," Aphrodite paused, "but very much appreciated."

Whatever.

Xena was ready to leave. She and Gabrielle and Eve started to walk out. Sis held out her hand and pulled me up off the bed. She punched me on the shoulder playfully, forgetting we were mortal now and it might actually cause pain. I made to punch her back, then I thought, she's all the family I have left, and put my arm around her instead.

You know something? That punch hurt a little…

"And it still does. It left a mark. See? Come on, you can pretend sympathy, can't you? No? Some friend you are.

"Anyway, that's the story. That's what I know of how Xena conquered the Evil Emperor. I didn't see it all, I was just along for the bruises."

I stare into Horace's odd eyes. "You understand me, don't you, pal?" I wonder sometimes who he really is—he's much too smart to be an ordinary dog. Maybe one of my relatives bespelled him…maybe he's really a philosopher…

I get up off the porch and drop my hand to his head, scratching him behind the ears. He adores that. His eyelids droop, his grin gets bigger, eventually he'll lick my face if I let him. It's a simple thing, gratitude. No one ever showed me that before, until Xena, on Mount Olympus, when I gave up everything for her…Her 'Thank you' was all I'd needed to make everything… right.

A mouthwatering scent drifts from the stewpot hanging over the hearth. "That rabbit you dragged home should be done by now, buddy. Whaddaya say I let you have a leg?" He gives me a slow wink with his blue eye. We have this arrangement—he brings home dinner, I cook it. My culinary prowess, with practice and a dash of necessity, has improved. I can swing a pretty mean skillet. Skillets… swords… they're both made of metal…whatthehell.

I look across the yard. The last rays of the sun touch everything, even the silvery weathered poles of the corral, with Aphrodite-pink.

"Maybe Xena will be here tomorrow." I cast one last glance out to the road before we step into the shack and I close the door behind us. Yeah, we're a fine pair, Horace and I. And it's far, far better than talking to myself, although I do that a lot too.

Yeah. Maybe tomorrow…

The End