Disclaimers in Part 1.
Ares lay with his back to Xena, her arm draped over his waist. He could feel her, every inch of her body against him, and he could feel the terrifying power that permeated her being licking at him like unseen flames. He felt this, but it seemed faraway... dampened. His stony face never twitched for fear that he would lose control and cry.
Xena softly kissed his nape and shoulder, tasting his sweat in her mouth, and she said, "You'll be good. You're still good."
Ares didn't move for so long that she thought that maybe he hadn't heard her. Then he twisted and hesitantly took her into his arms. "You're good, too."
He couldn't see her, but he felt her lashes and her smile against his chest. And he didn't feel so dirty anymore.
Xena stood on a tall hill, her favourite vantage point for observing a good fight. Her arms crossed under her breasts, and she watched, pleased by the skill displayed by her hand-picked army. Her eyes drifted again, to her chagrin, to a dark-haired figure on a cream warhorse. Her plans of slow, intricate seduction were dashed to pieces, but even though the man was no longer unwilling to let her slip into his bed, she was nowhere closer to her ultimate goal, bringing him back to her service, her interests. Strange how she rarely thought of her ultimate goal anymore.
He was magnificent, his sword, his blows dealing death and destruction to any enemy in his path. Nonetheless, he stayed close to his friend, who was wielding a long stave with surprisingly impressive skill. Admittedly, his unwieldy armour hampered his movements greatly, but he was clearly holding his own. An enemy warrior swung at him, and the large plates covering Joxer's front and back crashed to the ground with a clang audible even to Xena. The man seemed taken aback, but promptly flung the plates at the warrior, knocking him down and out of the battle. Joxer moved with considerably more ease afterwards.
Ares caught her eye and worked his way to her side, leaving a swath of pain in his wake.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, breathing deeply.
"Very much." She pointed out across the field. "I like the way you flanked them, but you've left a hole in your line along the eastern side there."
A scowl on his face, Ares studied the area the goddess had pointed out. Turning, he made some quick gestures to a man standing on a nearby hill with a large red flag. The man waved the flag, and a shift like sifting sand poured soldiers into the indicated gap.
Xena smiled, "I'm impressed." Both watched the progressing battle intently. "Don't you usually command from the front?"
Ares shrugged. "No point now. They'll break anytime."
True to his word, the handful of deserters increased to a trickle and then a flood as shouts of "Retreat!" rang through the valley.
A soldier rushed to report, unnecessarily, that the enemy was running. Ares joined the army amid shouts and cheers for a battle well-fought. His praise was received eagerly before he addressed the men. "Reset the traps and rest!" Xena heard. "They'll be back."
The wait was interminable. Ares longed for a good fight, a brawl, anything to take his mind off Hera's army, which had been sitting just across the next rise for the past moon—but no, don't expect a brawl from the almighty godsdamned Xena's chosen army. They're too bloody disciplined; they don't even drink. "Dulls the senses," they quote Xena. Every so often, a foolhardy plan to attack the enemy camp rises in Ares's mind, and every time, he crushes it ruthlessly. They're too well-situated. They'll see anything a mile coming. He watched Joxer down in the main camp, dicing with the soldiers. Xena's soldiers. He found his mind wandering back to hands, lethal hands, soft hands, and blue, blue eyes. She aroused him. She aggravated him... She confused him. He thought too much. He was used to waking up with her, now, seeing her eyes study him with an intensity that terrified him. She usually watched him through the night, but sometimes, in brief, sparse moments he horded like treasure, he would wake to find her in his arms with her eyes closed, and her beautiful face soft and serene until she woke. She did sleep. She'd laugh at him and tell him, teasingly, that he tired her out the night before. Strangely, it was the small things that haunted him. A look, a quick touch to his arm... he was thinking too much again.
"Why is it that every time I come find you, you're off in a corner brooding?"
Ares stifled a laugh. "I don't brood."
"Brooding is all you've been doing since you started this atonement kick." Xena sat down beside him. "So tell me. Are you really having more fun these days?"
"I'm fighting for a better world."
Xena laughed. It was cut short when she caught sight of Ares's cold, closed face.
"You don't know anything," Ares hissed. "You don't know what it's like for me. Don't you dare laugh at me."
"I know."
Ares turned away from her. In the camp, Joxer threw. Moments later, his hands shot up into the air: the classic pose of the victorious. His infectious smile seemed to charm all he'd ever met, and even notoriously sore losers regarded him with easy, unguarded laughs and firm pats on the back that looked about to knock Joxer over.
"I apologize."
Ares fixed the goddess with an incredulous stare. She... apologized? "I must be getting hard of hearing in my old age. What did you just say?" He found his tone teasing despite attempts to present a flat and bland face.
Xena all but sniffed, "Rub it in my face, why don't you." She looked at him, her eyes sharper than any dagger. "Tell me."
"What?"
"What it's like for you. Tell me that."
That was the last thing he needed, a goddess trying to be a human. Slumming, they called it. Bitch.
Ares watched Joxer for a while longer. Then, Xena stood up and stretched out a hand to him. "Come with me. I want to show you something."
Ares took her hand and let her pull him to his feet. The roaring sound of air rushing into his ears accompanied by a blinding flash caught him by surprise, as did the sudden absence of solid ground centimetres before his feet. When he stumbled, Xena wrapped an arm around his waist and held him steady while he took in the new scenery. She had transported them to the very edge of a cliff far far up in the sky. A thick, seemingly tangible layer of cloud spread itself a long way down from where he stood. Ares had never been afraid of heights. Unfortunately, the cliff couldn't be described as high. It was too high for that.
"Don't look down." Xena sounded far too amused.
Ares aimed a glare at her. "Where else am I supposed to look?" His stomach-churning vertigo ceased. He left her arm where it was.
"Look up."
Reflexively, Ares glanced up, and his breath caught in his throat. Bands and swirls of white covered the sky. He squinted carefully, and the bands separated into white grains. Stars. Pinpricks in the fabric of the sky, letting in the brilliant light of outside.
"Don't worry," Xena said softly, her breath tickling his ear a bit, "I'm maintaining a bubble of air dense enough for you to breathe. Look."
The patterns in the sky shifted and turned, blurs of white and blue and red. In the distance, a huge star, impossibly brighter than the rest, appeared, moved, and faded to nothing.
"What are you doing?" Ares asked.
"This is Zeus' observatory. I'm moving us through time, just a week or so in a heartbeat."
"Are you allowed in here?"
She shrugged. "He's never stopped me. I used to spend a lot of time here. I like making them move. It reminds me of the little glowing bugs on earth."
"Used to?"
"When I was little. I didn't have much to do, and my parents wouldn't let me leave Olympus."
Ares shook away the mental image of a young Xena. She must have been adorable, his traitorous thoughts put in. "I used to catch fireflies because they reminded me of stars," he said softly.
"When I was older, I caught fireflies and damselflies and cockroaches, anything I could find. I kept them in jars. The damselflies wilted before the day was over. I think I liked the cockroaches the most. They'd live for weeks because they'd eat the cockroaches that died. I'd end up with lots of cockroach pieces at the bottom of the jar. Legs and feelers and stuff."
Ares stared at her. "You are so weird."
She laughed, and the sensation of moving without moving returned. When Ares's surroundings coalesced once more, shock once again caused him to stagger. The room was decorated almost exactly like the Halls of War, with weaponry mounted on the walls and stark, black, and slightly sinister furniture slashed in silver and red. Xena believed in ambience. None of this surprised Ares. What did surprise Ares was the ragged brown stuffed bear sitting at the head of the huge bed, covered in standard issue black satin sheets. The bear wore a pink cap set at a jaunty angle, with one button eye nearly falling off of its stitches, and a threadbare red jacket.
Xena snatched up the offending object and held it behind her back. Her face was a curious shade of pink, Ares noticed, unable to suppress the smile on his lips.
"Dad gave it to me when I was really little." She glared at him, willing him to contradict. When he didn't answer, she reddened further. "What? It was nice to touch and hold while I slept. I was really little. Shut up."
Never had he seen her so flustered. It was almost flattering. He touched the bed. Under the shiny sheet was a layer of soft linen, and a furry rug to lie upon. Xena broke in, sounding almost defensive. "The satin shit looks fine, but it's really uncomfortable."
Ares turned to face her. "Am I nice to touch and hold?"
"Oh, stuff it," Xena said, stepping forward to press him back onto the bed.
He accepted her kiss eagerly. Fool, fool, he berated himself. You let yourself be charmed by her touch and her childhood stories, and you forget who she is. Enemy. My enemy. His hands were busy peeling off his enemy's leathers. Every time he touched her, it was easier to forget that she was the enemy. Her mouth kissed its way down his abdomen while her hands worked at his pants, and he let out a low moan.
She was half-draped across his chest, her thigh caught between his legs. Cat, he thought. Retractable claws. Her blue eyes opened, and she watched him coolly. A big cat, he amended. A big, lethal cat.
His fingers traced her hip, her waist, the contour of her breast. "You've never shown me this room, before."
She slit her eyes lazily, looking at him through a fringe of black lashes. "I didn't feel like it. It's private. Only close family have ever been in here." She shrugged. "It's mine."
"What's different about now?"
"Feels right."
"Why?"
"I like you." Xena rolled onto her back, taking a good portion of the sheets with her. She touched his shoulder, hesitation evident in her gaze. "Ares, I—"
This is idiotic, Xena thought. You're getting a good fuck out of it. Don't ruin it.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Ares raised his brow sceptically.
I'm a goddess, dammit, not a wimp. "I love you." The bottom dropped out of Xena's stomach and she wished feverishly for something to kill.
Ares blinked once, slowly, before shooting out of the bed. He watched her warily, as one would a viper.
Xena sat up.
"Games," the warrior snarled, "That's all you do. You and your godsbedamned games." She was silent, but he could see the blazing flames in her eyes. What right had she to be angry? "After all the shit you put me through, I've got to say that this is a winner. I should bow. You almost had me there." His voice was quiet, sarcastic. He dug for things to say, things that would hurt her. He wished he could think straight.
"Fuck you," she said softly, and vanished.
Realizing that he had been staring at an empty bed for a good while, Ares scrambled for his clothes. They were the only garments present. It was as if she had never been there. The sheets were made, but the bear wasn't there. Stranded on Olympus, Ares thought. Joxer would love it. He stalked out of the door.
The corridors were practically endless. Ares opened all the doors he came across, but they were all empty rooms. Some belonged to Xena. Others were tastefully decorated in marbles and beautiful furniture; somehow, they worsened Ares's mood. Coming to the end of a long row of rooms, Ares yanked open the big door. Inside were a huge bedroom, and a man. A god. A god who was staring at Ares with a mildly surprised look on his face.
Zeus regarded Ares, openly scrutinizing the warrior. He didn't look like the commanding, rock-fisted, virile tyrant that the stories had made him out to be. His blue eyes were identical to Xena's, cutting and vaguely ethereal, but there were thin lines in the sides of his mouth, at the corners of his eyes. His cheeks were wide and shaped so that he had a small but permanent frown, and his hair was all but pure white. He looked... tired.
"So you're Xena's boy," Zeus began conversationally.
Ares bristled. King of the gods or no, Zeus wasn't going to treat him like dirt. "I'm hardly a boy, and no matter how young you think I am, I will never be described as 'Xena's'."
Something resembling laughter danced in Zeus' eyes. "The boy has backbone. That's good. My daughter has had precious little discipline in her life; you might just be the man to give it to her." Zeus' voice boomed jovially, as if he had revealed the funniest joke that Ares had ever had the privilege to hear.
Ares managed a questioning little noise in the back of his throat while his eyes widened in astonishment.
"She's going to need someone who isn't afraid to turn her on his knee and give her a good spanking when she misbehaves."
Ares's eyes widened even more. "You can't—you can't treat a woman like that..."
"Woman?" Zeus gestured dismissively. "What woman? We're talking about my little girl." Ares didn't appear convinced, so the god continued, "I'm not saying you shouldn't respect her. Sometimes, though, you just have to take charge. Xena doesn't recognize any authority that isn't bigger and stronger than she. She's my daughter: an arrogant bitch of a goddess. She's very much like me. If you let her trample all over you, she'll be miserable, and she'll wander off." Seeing Ares' expression, Zeus softened his tone. "She's been happier these past few years she's known you than I have ever seen her since she first assumed the position and responsibilities of War." He paused, and Ares was certain that he felt the temperature drop. "Of course, my tolerance only applies to a certain extent," Zeus said softly.
Truly terrified for perhaps the first time in his life, Ares watched Xena's father as he flashed a brilliant smile and vanished from where he sat.
Ares muttered, "Wonder if I'll be like that when I have a child."
After a harrowing experience at the mercy of a helpful goddess of love, Ares found himself back in his tent. He pulled off his boots and settled onto his bedroll, feeling strange. He lay back and stared up at the heavy fabric above him. A branch scratched against it, a dark silhouette shifting in the wind. He thought about the stars in their bands and clusters. His tent seemed empty, he realized. Maybe he could ask Joxer to keep him company.
He rolled onto his side and hugged his blankets tightly. He didn't really want to see Joxer. His bed smelled like her.
He finally let the thought he had been suppressing escape. She wasn't going to come.
Ares slept fitfully that night, and when Joxer arrived to wake his friend, he found Ares, fully dressed, sitting at his table.
"Ares." Joxer smiled and set down his helmet, which was filled with turnips of all things. "When you disappeared yesterday, Hera's army tried to take us by surprise. Hah. Poor bastards; we routed them good. Some of them were running like blind bats, their arms covering their heads fearfully. I got one on the arse so hard with my staf... are you alright?"
Ares attempted a grin. "That's great, Joxer. Did you chase them?"
"Well, no, 'cause you weren't here, so I thought we should wait. Are you sure you're alright?"
"What makes you think otherwise?"
Joxer's expression was set and determined. "Oh, come off it. We've been travelling together for, what, three years now, and you still think I don't know you like the back of my neck?"
"How well do you know the back of your neck?" Ares asked, bemused.
"Neck—hand—you know what I mean. Don't change the subject. This has something to do with Xena, doesn't it? She dragged you off somewhere yesterday and did something to you. By the gods, when I get my hands on her, I'll make her pay threefold for whatever it was she did!"
"She told me she loved me."
Joxer's rant stopped short. "Oh." He picked up a turnip, wiped it on his shirt, and took a bite. Chewing thoughtfully, he stared at Ares. "Er... and?"
"And what?"
"And what's the problem?"
Ares leapt up and began pacing in the narrow confines of the full tent. "What do you mean what's the problem? She's Xena! She's a god. People like her don't fall in love. I—" Ares frowned. "I don't know."
"You don't know if she's telling the truth?"
"I want to believe—I mean, it would be—I don't know."
Joxer said softly, "It's okay to be afraid."
Ares spread his hands helplessly. "Being afraid doesn't help me. It's hard. It's so hard to believe in someone and then find out that she's been lying the whole time. That's Xena. She's a manipulative bitch. She never tells the whole truth if she can avoid it. It's simply... what she does, who she is. She is War. Do you know what it's like to put everything on the line, jump off a cliff without knowing if there's a haystack at the bottom?"
"Yes." Joxer shrugged. "It's called trust. Either you have it, or you don't. Did you tell her about this?"
Ares suddenly looked sheepish. "I, uh, actually, I yelled at her."
Joxer's lips compressed, as if he was holding back a smile. "You? Mr. Control? Nah." Ares felt an urge to stick his tongue out. All tension seemed to have drained from his body. Then Joxer continued. "Oh, crap. I forgot to tell you. Xena's addressing the army right now."
Ares blinked. He prodded Joxer's thick skull with a stiff finger before heading out of the tent, followed first by Joxer's indignant "Hey!" and then by Joxer himself, with his helmet-ful of turnips.
"...champion arrived." Ares heard. "Najara is a certified psycho. She's a skilled warrior, one of the best I've trained, but as a commander, she is flighty, and therefore, unpredictable. I'll expect you to back up Ares while he goes after Najara." Xena's eyes bored into him. "Take her out. I don't care how. Capture her, maim her, or—preferably—kill her. Once you have her, Hera's army will fold like a cheap sword. Is that understood?"
"Yessir!" nearly three hundred warriors barked out.
"Dismissed." She stepped off of the raised platform. "Ares, come here." When he was close enough, she dropped her voice. "Najara is weak against low attacks and those from her right side. She's fast and agile, so I don't want you to chase her. Let her come to you."
Ares nodded and waited, but she didn't say anything further. He sighed. "Train with me?"
They'd barely spoken since. Ares had complained to Joxer about Xena's close-mouthed behaviour, but to Ares's bewilderment, Joxer didn't take his side. "You know," he'd said, "she really set herself up for rejection. She's probably more scared than you are." He'd found her sitting by the river once, glaring at a wandering sheep. The sheep hadn't seemed too intimidated. When he had been still far too far away for her to possibly hear, Xena glanced in his direction and tossed something in her hands into the river before stalking away. Curiously, Ares peered downstream. A dozen or so shredded purple orchids had floated out of sight while he watched.
The attack came nearly a fortnight after Najara's arrival. As Hera's soldiers poured into the valley, a chilling cry lifted the hairs on the back of Ares's neck. He located its source, a small blonde woman swathed in grey and green cloths, waving a huge sword. Ares released his chakram, knocking down the entire front line of enemy soldiers as the spinning disc ricocheted from man to man. The blonde woman ducked, avoiding the chakram easily, and when Ares caught the weapon, she gave him a venomous grin and hissed loudly.
"Well," Ares said dryly, "I guess that's Najara."
He spurred Argo forward, heading straight for the rushing woman in a horseback game of chicken. At the last possible moment, Ares swerved to the side, gifting Najara with a deep cut on her arm. He flung his chakram, pressing his advantage, but to his consternation, Najara blocked it with her sword, knocking it away to embed itself in a nearby foot soldier. On the back pass, Najara screamed her warcry and launched herself onto Argo behind Ares.
The noise was deafening. Najara had her arm around his throat in a chokehold, warriors were screaming all around, and black spots began swimming in Ares's vision. She'd knocked his sword to the ground, and Ares set about searching for another weapon. Pulling at her arms, he found a thin dagger in her gauntlet. He pulled it out, only to have Najara pluck it from his hand.
"Ah ah ah," she taunted, waving the blade before his eyes. "Too late for you."
Ares didn't waste his breath. He jerked his knee up, catching her hand and knocking the dagger skyward. He dug his elbow into her side, grasped the dagger, and stabbed it up through her ribs in one fluid motion. He heard her breath catch at his ear, and then she laughed, hoarsely, before tumbling to the ground.
Some nearby soldiers took one look at Najara's crumpled form and ran. Soon, the rest were following.
As the army cheered around him, Ares half-smiled uneasily. Something wasn't quite right.
Not far away, Joxer surveyed the scene and muttered, "That was too easy..."
On cue, a blister of green light heralded the appearance of Hera, who stalked toward Ares with black murder written across her face. She glared at Ares, and he tumbled from Argo's back as if an unseen force had shoved him.
"Ares!" Joxer yelled and rushed to help his friend. He hadn't taken three steps before a vice-like grip on his collar stopped him cold. Twisting in his captor's grasp, Joxer froze, shocked. "Xena!" Then his eyes narrowed. "Why aren't you helping him? If you care so much, why are you just standing here while your mother kills the man you love?" he spat.
Xena merely turned an expressionless face to him, and her cold eyes shrivelled Joxer up inside with dread.
He watched helplessly as Hera raised her hand, green fire hovering on her palm, and with a sound that could only be described as a cackle, prepared to disintegrate his best friend.
"Do something!" Joxer pleaded. "Don't let her kill him!"
The laboured breathing of the mortals present echoed throughout the battlefield. The Goddess of War kept her gaze on the tableau before her, and she didn't move. She saw Ares turn his head slightly, and nearly winced as their eyes met. He stared at her mutely, not asking anything, but Xena could see the terror he felt... and the betrayal.
Ares could read nothing in her eyes. Was she angry with him for their fight? Had she gotten fed up with his disrespectful behaviour? Had she simply stopped caring? The sting in his chest brought the burning sensation of tears in the corners of his eyes, and when Hera flung her hand forward, shooting a crackling spear of power toward his head, regret filled his head.
"No!" Joxer screamed, but was quickly drowned out in a deafening clash of thunder.
A deep, authoritative voice resonated through the air, but not before a dark blur knocked Ares out of the way of the bolt, which travelled on to hit the muddy ground and created a large crater that quickly filled with water. "Wife mine, dare you disobey the decrees set upon our race since the days of the Titans?" the voice boomed.
Joxer spun around, but Xena had disappeared.
Ares opened his eyes warily, inspecting himself to make sure that he still possessed all limbs and appendages. He found himself lying on the ground still, but he could feel something warm and soft underneath him, pressed to his back. "Get off me!" the warm and soft object hissed. Ares rolled to his feet and discovered that he had been lying on Xena, who was covered in dirt.
"You look like a gopher that's just had to dig out of a collapsed tunnel," he informed her.
As expected, she glared at him and straightened her tunic stiffly. "I'm the Goddess of War. My appearance is always impeccable." She spat some sand to the ground. "Except maybe for now," she admitted.
Ares didn't know if he would laugh or cry if he cracked now.
Hera watched uneasily as Zeus materialized before her.
He looked seriously pissed. "By the laws of the Titans, my daughter and heir has chosen one mortal to act as her champion on earth and to further her cause. This mortal was to be free to perform his duties, unhindered by the other gods. By attempting to kill him directly, you have broken this law in the greatest degree. You will now be brought before a committee of those uninvolved and tried for your crimes. Xena."
"Yes, father?"
"You will testify as a second witness. There is no need to bring the mortal, but you may do so if you wish."
The wargoddess turned to give Ares a small grin. "You stay here and rest. I've got her this time. The evidence is so overwhelming that this shouldn't take more than a few marks."
"But—"
"Don't argue with me, man."
"But—"
Her kiss was hard and desperate, but it drained all the tension and worry from his body. Pulling back, Xena said, quietly, "I love you." Then the gods were gone.
It was late. Cyrene and Joxer had turned in long ago, but Ares sat still on the stone wall that he had erected for his mother. She wasn't back yet.
Time passed. A dog wandered by, sniffed at the foot of the wall while Ares watched, and then it raised its leg to urinate. Having finished, the dog wandered away again.
There was a familiar ripping of air sound, and the area was illuminated by blue light.
Ares didn't look around. "You knew that would happen."
There was a pause. Then: "Yes."
"You used me."
"Yes."
They didn't speak for some time, and when the dog returned on his meandering way, Ares kicked at it. The dog bolted, whimpering.
"I guess that's it, then," Xena spoke quickly and bitterly. "I'm the cold-hearted bitch you always thought I was."
Ares didn't speak.
"I'll just take that amulet back to Zeus, and you'll never have to suffer the sight of me again. How's that sound?"
She waited in the silence, but patience had never been her strong suit. "Dammit, Ares, why do you always have to make everything into a guilt trip? Give me the godsdamned amulet. I'm sure you'll be more than pleased when I leave, so why are you being so difficult?"
Had she been able to see his face, she would have seen the flash of fire in his eyes.
Ares let a resolute expression settle upon his face. "No."
Xena blinked. What the hell did he want with that amulet?
"What do you mean, no?"
"No, you're not taking it."
"Give it."
"Hmm. How 'bout no?"
"Ares, I borrowed that from Zeus. He's going to kill me if I don't bring it back!"
"You can't leave."
"What?"
"I won't let you."
Ares found himself staring up at the night sky, his jaw aching like he'd been kicked by a horse. His goddess loomed over him. "Why? You'll miss having a good fuck-toy?" She kicked him in the ribs, hard. "You don't fucking care whether I leave or not; now give me the godsdamned charm!"
She moved to kick him again, but his hand closed around her ankle like a vice. He tugged, and she crashed to the ground beside him. He'd placed the entirety of his weight on her in a second. He thanked whatever gods who weren't listening for the fact that the goddess was so angry that she wasn't thinking straight. She seemed to have forgotten about her superhuman powers.
"You only have yourself to blame, you know. If you hadn't stolen the thing from Zeus in the first place, you wouldn't be stuck here with me." The teasing words were spoken without an ounce of humour.
He pinned her hands above her head and shoved the bulge in his pants against her crotch.
Xena froze, her mouth opening in a silent "oh". She quickly shoved him off of her and scrambled to her feet. Finally seeing him clearly, she could tell that he was every bit as livid as she.
There was only time for one thought before he backed her up into the side of the inn. Shit.
"You, my Lord," Ares brushed his open mouth over her hair, his breath warming her cheek, "are not going anywhere." He reached down and tore the chords off the hooks of her pants. His calloused fingers slipped through, and her mouth drifted open in a silent gasp. "You will never leave my side without my express permission. You will never fuck any other man or woman. You will be with me. You will let me make you happy. You. Are. Mine."
Xena pulled him close and kissed him hard. The yard vanished, and they dropped onto her bed, high up on Olympus. "Like I'm the only one with a penchant for sleeping around," Xena muttered between kisses.
"Aphrodite told me all about it." Ares pushed her firmly onto her back, savouring her wide-eyed stare.
"She told you what?" she demanded.
"Oh nothing, really." His hands touched her-- rubbed her skin. He looked up at her from hip-level. "This and that." He lowered his mouth and caressed her with his tongue teasingly. "What you like." His tongue flicked out, and Xena gasped softly. "What makes you scream..."
Her hand clenched in his curly hair. "Oh gods..."
They sat right on the edge of the cliff, their legs dangling over the sheer face.
"That one looks like a worm."
"That one looks like a swan.
"Yeah? Well, that one there's a dragon. It just ate the swan."
Ares gave her the look. "It didn't move. Besides, it doesn't look like a dragon, more like a scorpion."
Xena shrugged. "Constellations rarely look anything like what you name it. Clouds, though. They form very distinct shapes at times. I remember seeing one that was long with a bulbous—"
Ares put up a hand quickly. "Stop right there. I do not want to know."
She pulled his hand away. "But—"
"No."
They sat still, staring up at the sky.
"So, now what?" Ares asked.
"You wouldn't be willing to become..." she stopped when Ares shook his head. "Maybe I'll come see you sometimes."
"Alright," Ares said.
"Okay."
He scowled and nudged her with his shoulder when she snickered.