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Force of Habit	By : atrophy Category: S through Z > Xena Views: 3527 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Xena, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Force of Habit
- 1
Force of Habit
Atrophy

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or backstory. There, are you
happy you corporate lugs?? Yeah? Well you suck! Fanfic
writers are better than you at spinning stories!
...
*cough*
Sex/
language/ violence: yes/ yes/ am I not predictable? Big fat yes.
Subtext: I
think you have me confused with someone else.

AN: This is just a fantasy of mine. I thought Goddess of War was really onto
something there with the story Warrior Prince. It's a beautiful idea.
There's such an amazing contrast between your reaction when Xena is being mean
to Ares and when their situations are reversed. They do everything for the exact
same reasons, but it feels so different.
This was supposed to by my
version of what would happen. Unfortunately, I was utterly unable to portray
Xena as the victim, so I sank into sarcasm. *gets down on knees* Please forgive
me. If you don't get too caught up with the melodrama and cheesy imagery, it's
pretty funny.

_________________________________________________________________________
Xena nailed her throne with a sloppy kick. Cracks raced over the black marble
finish before the entire thing collapsed into a pile of rubble.

She swore. "I liked that one."

She kicked a larger piece again, and it flew through the air, smashing a
decorative urn.

"Well, aren't you destructo girl today?"

Oh, shit. She did not want to face her annoyingly perceptive sister
today.

"Go away, Aphrodite."

"Sorry. No can do. Daddy wants to know what's wrong with his favourite
daughter." A burst of pink bubbles, and jagged pieces of the throne jumped up
and reassembled themselves.

Maliciously, Xena blasted it into oblivion again.

Aphrodite gasped, "You so did not do that! Daddy's going to be so
pissed! He gave you that for your five hundredth birthday!"

The raven-haired Goddess of War hissed softly between her teeth, "I know. Two
years before his darling Athena cracked his skull open, and he forgot about the
rest of us. Favourite daughter, my ass."

The Goddess of Love reached out and spun her taller sister around, a
penetrating look in her cornflower eyes.

"What?" Xena's ice blue pools narrowed. People always found it strange that
War and Love could be such good friends. Aphrodite was as blonde as Xena was
dark. Aphrodite's classic beauty slammed the observer in the face, while Xena's
striking perfection was more subtle. Given enough time, the disturbing
perfection, intrigue, and innate sensuality would drag the viewer's gaze from
even Aphrodite. When the two were together, everything tended to stop in its
tracks and stay frozen. Zeus had forbidden them to attend chariot races together
a long time ago. Even more different were their personalities. Aphrodite's
soothing, cheerful sunniness was well loved on Olympus, but Xena's unpredictable
violence and temper was to be avoided at all costs. They were perceived as light
and dark, good and evil, yet still all gods and underlings had learned early on
that to mess with Aphrodite was to suffer the wargoddess's terrible wrath.

They would never tell anyone, but the wargoddess had been spiralling down a
path of sheer evil that would have resulted in nothing but destruction, and only
Aphrodite saw how lonely she'd been. Braving Xena's fury, Aphrodite had tried to
save her, and though they had slipped farther and farther down, it had been
enough. She held on long enough for Xena to find her saviour. To find him.

Granted, the pigheaded goddess was still stuck on thinking that he'd betrayed
her and that she was angry with him, but Aphrodite thought she was making
progress.

"What did he do this time?"

Xena jerked away, growling audibly. "What do you think he did? I had a
perfectly good campaign going there. The king of Hermia would have brought half
a century of peace to the godsdamned little villages if he didn't just show up
and kill the bastard."

"The guy was torching the place�"

The goddess of war gave her sister a displeased look. "You can't take away
all my fun. Besides, they would have rebuilt a better village."

"So what? You're saying that the ends justify the means?"

"What? No, I'm saying sometimes you have to destroy the old to make room for
the new."

"Does he agree?"

Xena's teeth gritted as she tried to find a suitable argument. A long, tense
moment later, she stepped into the aether, radiating fury.

_________________________________________________________________________
"Mom!" Ares called, swinging himself from atop his palomino. He rubbed Argo's
nose soothingly, promising a good rub-down and fresh oats.

A short, slender woman stepped hurriedly from the inn, wiping her hands on a
well-worn dishtowel. "Ares!" A brilliant smile lit her still beautiful face,
framed by dark auburn curls. "Welcome home!" She embraced him fiercely before
turning to hug his best friend and travelling companion, Joxer.

Ares bit back a sigh, knowing that despite Joxer's inherent clumsiness, the
two talkative friends would strike up some sort of immediate, engaging
conversation and be entertained the entire time he would be taking care of Argo.
Sometimes he was just the... least bit jealous. When he had to say something to
piss someone off, or when he had to manipulate someone for some reason, he was
quite adept. But when it came to casual conversation, he was in the middle of a
labyrinth with no magical ball of twine.

He picked up the reins and led Argo around to the stables.

With quick, sure hands, he stripped the mare of her saddle and gear, setting
to work with a soft bristled brush and cloth.

"Sulking in the corners again, honey?"

A rush of some strange warmth filled his chest before he viciously clamped it
down. It was probably just because he didn't really want to be alone at this
time. "What do you want?" Yeah. That was probably it.

Xena had no idea as to what in tartarus she was doing. It had seemed logical
to see what he was doing at the time. "Oh, I just wanted to congratulate you for
destroying any future attempt at peace in Hermia."

He glanced sharply at her. And immediately regretted it. Her raven hair
feathered messily about her ivory face, hints of rose staining her cheeks. He
could tell that the slight rouge wasn't applied on top as Aphrodite commonly
liked to do. Surreal blue eyes framed by thick black lashes and pale pinks lips
completed the look of charming innocence. A ruffled white blouse toned down her
ample cleavage, and a long black skirt dropped off the soft curve of her hip and
gently kissed the ground. Slender fingers were idly playing with the ribbons of
the cream-coloured sash wound about her waist.

"What are you doing?"

The goddess smirked at his bewildered tone. "Thought I'd put up a bit of an
effort, make a good impression on your mother. Do you like it?"

"You are not meeting my mother." It was hard to sound threatening while her
soft, parted lips looked so utterly enticing. Dark sapphire fire flickered in a
brief flash of anger, and Ares couldn't help but let his tongue quickly wet his
lips.

"Why not?"

"Because you're evil." He mentally slapped himself for the lame rebuttal.

A genuine smile flitted briefly over her lips. "You like evil," she drawled.
"It turns you on."

"You're sick."

"You like sick, too," she whispered right by his ear, far too close, before
picking up another brush to work on Argo's other flank.

Considering that she was the one who had taught him all about the proper care
of a horse, particularly a warhorse, he wasn't surprised at her deft expertise.
It was just that he'd never seen her do something so... mortal. No, he
corrected himself, not mortal. Human.

She didn't seem to be holding a grudge, considering that last time she'd
shown up, he stuck a sword into her.

Argo twisted her long neck to look at the new man-shape that was rubbing her
side so comfortably with a pleased nicker. Quickly recognizing the goddess, she
nudged Xena's side in welcome.

Although the corners of her mouth merely quirked for a heartbeat, Ares saw
the smile in her eyes. She continued working, a soft hum beginning in her
throat. He recognized the distinct melody with a slight choke. The bawdy words,
certainly not deserving of being called lyrics, were not fit for any child's
ear, or any civilian, for that matter.

Her teasing gaze met his.

"My mother had better not hear�"

"Cross my heart and hope to... er..."

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Don't know. I stopped counting at around three thousand four hundred."

"That was rhetorical."

"Argo seems to like the tune."

There was a brief pause, and they both started humming the army ballad at the
same time, their soft voices blending perfectly.

_________________________________________________________________________
Joxer saw them walk into the tavern first, and his jaw dropped to the floor.

"Mom? This is an old... friend."

Xena extended her arm, "My name is Xena."

To her visible shock, Cyrene pulled her into a friendly hug. "Any friend of
my son is always welcome here. I'll put you in the room next to Ares's. It's got
a great view of the town; you can see from one end to the other. Come," she
began to lead the tall goddess toward the steps that led to the second level,
and stopped in her tracks, "di�did you say Xena?"

Xena looked pointedly at Ares. Your call.

"Yeah. Goddess of war. My patron." The warrior shifted uncomfortably at the
dumbstruck stares of the nearby customers.

"Goddess of war?" Cyrene repeated quietly.

Xena waved. "That would be me."

To her utter confusion, Cyrene began circling her, eyes narrowed in deadly
scrutiny. Xena had the feeling that she was going to be deep shit if she didn't
pass this test. She stood at attention, back straight, eyes forward, feeling
like a new recruit before her drill sergeant.

"Well, this has never happened before," she commented with forced
casualness.

"Goddess."

"Xena is fine, ma'am."

"How are you at bussing tables, Xena?"

"I don't, but I'm a fast learner, ma'am."

"Why are you here?"

"I have no idea, ma'am."

Cyrene stopped, frowning up into startlingly similar blue eyes. "Gods, child,
what do they feed you up there? You're thin as a twig."

"Ma�what?"

A low snicker sounded, and Xena glanced at Joxer, an icy shutter slamming
down around her. "Laugh," she said, deadly soft, "and die." The gangly man
gulped.

"There will be no violence in this inn," Cyrene cut in. "Ares will show you
to your room."

"Thank you. And I must say, ma'am," a sudden smile left every man in the room
rubbing their thighs together surreptitiously, "it's a pleasure to meet
you."

When they were out of earshot, Cyrene smiled. "What a nice girl."

_________________________________________________________________________
When Xena made her way silently down the stairs the next morning, before
daybreak, Cyrene was already in the kitchen.

"Good morning."

The goddess froze. "Uh, morning." She stood by the steps, debating whether or
not to give in to her curiosity. She gave. "How did you know I was here?"

Cyrene turned with a knowing smile. "You move just like my son." She gestured
toward a long table laden with food. "Sit down and have breakfast."

"I don't need to�"

"You do now."

Xena sat with a small grin, "You're an amazing woman, Cyrene."

"No, I'm just a mother."

"But my mother never..." without meaning to, she trailed off, remembering the
time she had spent with Hera. Hera had been the best mother she could, but some
things she just didn't understand. Hera had taught her eldest daughter and heir
how to gain and hold power, how to survive amongst conniving, petty gods, and
how to be strong, but never had she shown her how to care about anyone. In fact,
Hera had once told her never to fall in love. Men are all pigs. You let one
tie you down or make you care, and he'll destroy you. Xena had promised
never to love a man, but... why was Ares so different from any man she'd ever
known?

"Then it's about time you had a mother."

Ares stopped at the foot of the stairs. She was back in her usual black,
tight leather pants with the strange, straight cut that let her pull them over
her heavy black boots. Her trademark black tunic clung to her every curve,
baring her muscled abdomen and arms, and her scabbard hung down her back. A bowl
of apple cinnamon porridge was placed before her, and, as he watched, the tip of
her tongue flicked out to lick a sweet drop from her wooden spoon.

Oh, gods. Callisto. Callisto killing Perdican, Joxer's poor wife. Callisto
naked. Callisto fucking Joxer. Callisto fucking Xena. OH SHIT. You will
go down!

Xena turned to look at him with a puzzled frown, and he slid into a seat in
record time, careful to hide... his lower parts from her.

"What's wrong?"

"What? Nothing."

"I can hear you panicking from over here."

"It's nothing."

"Fine. See if I give a damn." Xena swallowed another spoonful of the
mush. Mortals liked to eat really strange things.

Ares ate his bowl silently.

"So, what do you people do around here? Anyone you need me to hurt?"

Ares glowered over the table, "We don't do that around here. Some people
aren't violent, spiteful bitches."

"Ares!"

"No, it's quite alright, Cyrene," Xena leaned back in her chair, balancing
expertly on the two back legs. "Do tell, pet, what do those people who aren't
violent, spiteful bitches do these days?" A mocking smirk teased her lips.

With a low growl, Ares kicked under the table. He'd always had very good
aim.

Her chair tipped over backward, and Xena crashed to the floor with a small
grunt.

"Ares, apologize right now!"

Xena picked herself up and straightened the chair. "It's alright. I never get
hurt or anything."

"Ares."

"Sorry," he mumbled, finishing his porridge and standing. "I'll be back in a
bit, mom." He strode swiftly out the door. At least the boner had gone away on
its own.

Xena popped a grape into her mouth, "Thanks for breakfast, Cyrene. It was
delicious."

Cyrene nodded at the goddess as she followed the Warrior Prince out the
door.

Outside, Ares unsheathed his blade, thankful that the square was still
deserted. The pale pink dawn cast a soft glow on the buildings, but the shadows
were still heavy.

Pivoting, he swung, and metal clashed noisily. Before he could try again, she
knocked his sword to the ground with a quick flick of her wrist. She dropped her
weapon, and they practiced handwork, picking up speed as they worked through
complicated routines. Side. Sweep. Double jab. Weave. Down for ten things that
he'd come to call "pushupwards".

They moved in tandem, a silent rhythm to their dance. Finally, each routine
finished, they jogged around the square, no sound but his heavier breathing
cutting through the air. She never got out of breath. Slowing to a walk, and
then a stop, they stretched. He noticed with a shock that he was taller than she
was.

When he had first left home after the death of Lyceus, he'd been nearly her
height, and a virgin. It wasn't that the girls in Amphipolis didn't want him.
He'd simply been too busy with the inn, his brothers, and his secret swordplay.
He'd stolen a sword from her temple when he was fourteen. When she came to him
after Cortese, she took one look at the sword he held, and burst out laughing.
She remembered him, she said. He was the little boy who snuck into her temple.
She told him that he'd filled out nicely. He could remember looking up at her,
and wishing that he could touch her. He wanted to touch her everywhere. She
didn't stop him. She rode him gently that one time, just before she made him
leave on that pirate ship. She was so soft and warm and beautiful, easing him
past young reservations. It had been perfect.

Though she'd offered after that, more than once, he'd never taken her. He'd
screwed many others, and he knew that he was good enough for her, but he didn't
want her. He couldn't afford to want her. As long as he didn't care, he was
safe. A god would only play with him before discarding him, leaving him with
nothing but a shredded heart. He knew gods; they never learned to care.

He'd never realized how small she actually was. She wasn't even half his
size. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she was... delicate.

She brought the thick straw mat upright, facing forward, and he reacted
immediately with a forward kick. She barely jerked. Like fuck she was
delicate.

Side. He kicked it. She turned the mat sideways, in the "off" position, and
they circled in perpetual motion. Upright, high. Kick. Upright side. Roundhouse.
High. Kick. Back and circle.

After a while she began to incorporate punches into the exercise, shouting
out the expected move.

They moved like water, flowing around each other.

They'd drawn quite a crowd.

Suddenly she brought the mat into the side position, and called, "Hook!"

He kicked it.

"Good!"

He focused on the mat, concentrating to block out the debilitating shouted
orders. Focus. She lived, breathed, and ate focus.

He was getting tired. She feinted right, and he stepped into it. His kick
connected with her side, and she reeled, toppling over.

"Shit, you move fast!" she laughed, lying on the ground. Ares shrugged,
knowing that she'd let him hit her. Bracing against a nearby oak, he stretched,
and she spotted him.

He picked up their weapons and waited for her to jump down out of the tree
before heading into the tavern. There was some scattered applause.

Cyrene sighed. Ares could be so unreasonable sometimes.

_________________________________________________________________________
Cyrene gave Xena the rest of the day off after the morning shift. She nearly
tripped over Hera as she walked into her Halls of War on Olympus.

"What were you doing?"

"What?"

"You missed our appointment."

"We never do anything on our 'appointments' anyway. I was with my
Chosen."

Hera gave her daughter a sharp look. "That man. Ares, is it?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"How many times have I told you to never fall in lov�"

"What the fuck are you talking about? He's my Chosen! That's all!" Xena
cursed herself for lashing out. If anything, her over-reaction would surely give
Hera reason to doubt her daughter's words.

"That's all?" The queen of the gods seated herself in her daughter's
throne.

"Yes," Xena nearly snarled.

"Then why haven't you killed him?"

"What?" The question was nothing but a whisper.

"He broke his oath and left your side. Tradition states that you kill
him."

"No."

"You kill him to make way for a faithful follower."

"No!"

"Why?"

Xena sputtered, "He's the best warrior I've ever seen! I can't just go and
kill him for some personal vendetta!"

"You can't? No. You mean you won't."

"I can't. I swore to never hurt him. He's been loyal for so many years
that I owe him that respect."

"You won't kill him."

"No. I don't care if he's sleeping with Athena. I won't kill him."

"Then I will."

"What?" The wargoddess was beginning to feel like she was set on
repeat. "Why? This isn't any of your business."

Hera's cool gaze never wavered. "I am your mother. Everything I do is for
your best interest." She shook her auburn head ruefully. "Xena, daughter, you
are the future of this family. You will rule after your father. You cannot
afford to be shackled down."

"You will not go anywhere near him!"

"Why? He's just a chosen, a mortal. Why do you care?"

Xena was beyond exasperation. "Because I care about him, you bitch! Why is
that so hard to understand? He's a good person!"

"You will not take that tone with me, Xena," Hera was white with anger. "He
is not a person. If you care about him, that is doubly reason to destroy him."
She paused, and offered the furious girl an old, old smile, broken and dusty
with disuse. "You're my daughter, Xena. Everything I do is so you can have the
best, so you can have everything that I couldn't."

"Oh, so it's for the best? You're killing someone I'm rather fond of for my
own fucking good?" Xena stood, a suspicious shimmer in her pale eyes, "If you
hurt him, I will destroy you. I will hunt you and I will tear you to pieces. You
know I can. You taught me."

Hera smiled tightly, "Then you'd better start now."

Xena sucked in a quick breath, and hauled ass.

_________________________________________________________________________
Ares turned from a table after setting down a couple of mugs of ale, only to see
a brilliant green bolt of something heading straight toward him. Then there was
a flurry of black, and Xena slammed into a table, splintering it. Green sparks
raced over her skin, and her face contorted in discomfort.

Half a dozen creatures with tons of eyes suddenly appeared out of nowhere,
and one tried to stab him with a long spear.

"What the fuck?" Ares ducked and rolled. "What did you do this
time?"

He watched in shock as the goddess of war launched herself at the creatures,
blue flame crackling about her. She was nothing but a shadow as she
systematically struck down each monster. She fought like a demon, the only
evidence of her blows was the way the things clutched at various body parts.

"Shit," Ares whispered as he saw her get knocked to the ground. Those things
were strong. She twisted, her momentum actually causing her to fly up into the
air, and kicked. There was a sickening ripping noise, and a creature's head tore
off of its body, spraying green blood over the walls.

Taking a deep breath, Ares plunged into the fray, fighting dirty as he made
his way to his goddess' side. She beheaded another one of the creatures, and
Ares tackled her, a spear barely skimming her long black hair. She rolled away
from him, snatching up the discarded weapon of one of the deader things and
whipping it toward him. It sank into the creature that was trying to stick him,
and it fell to the ground, hopefully dead. He stole its spear before it hit the
ground, and battered at another monster. With her free hand, Xena flung a bolt
of power at one, and it exploded in a shower of green gunk.

"Oh," she kicked a thrusting spear off course and it tore straight through
one of the monster's neck, and manoeuvred until they were back to back.
"Fun."

She caught a spear as it tried to skewer her, and sent a charge of pure
energy down the shaft. The creature's hands, or whatever it was that they had
that passed for hands, melted before it blew up.

There was one left. Out of the corner of her eye, Xena saw Ares's spear
clatter to the ground. She grabbed his arm and managed to swing them around so
that she was facing the thing and he was behind her. Its spear sank through her
breastbone and into her chest. After the momentary shock, something white hot
and terrible blazed through her body. Was this pain?

Ares caught her as she fell against him, her retrieved sword in his hand. His
left arm around her, he swung.

It was a horrible excuse for a sword strike, but the sheer strength behind it
removed the thing's head, green slime spraying the two warriors.

Ares sank to the ground, swearing steadily. "Xena. Hey. Gods, don't do this.
Xena!"

"Shut up!" The goddess snarled, gasping at the sensation. "Get it out!"

"What?"

"The godsdamned spear, you asshole, get it out!"

He studied it for a fraction of a moment. There was no other way. He grasped
the shaft in one hand, wrapped the other around her shoulders, and yanked.

She cried out softly, her hand over her mouth.

There was no blood, but he could see fragmented bone in the gaping wound.
"Sorry," he whispered, getting to his knees. Sliding his arms under her as he
stood, he picked her up. So light.

Cyrene followed them as he carried her to her room.

"What were those?"

"Hera's hundred-eyed guard dogs."

"What do they want?"

Xena gave him an incredulous look. "What do you think they want? You've just
made Hera's hit list."

He set her down on the bed gently and straightened.

"Don't go!" the goddess suddenly grabbed his wrist. When he looked at her
questioningly, she shook her head. "I can't protect you if I can't see you."

"Right." He suddenly studied her wound. "Are you bleeding?"

Xena looked down. Tiny drops of red were welling up, as if the wound was
weeping. It was getting faster.

"Shit shit shit shit. Where's my sword?"

"Uh. Downstairs?"

"Get it. Please. I'm mortal without it."

Cyrene gasped sharply, and tore out of the room.

She quickly returned, and Xena slid the sword into its scabbard. There was a
faint blue glow, and both weapon and sheath faded away into nothing. At Cyrene's
bewildered gaze, Xena explained that she'd put it away. The drops of red seemed
to evaporate into nothing, and bone and flesh shifted in the wound, knitting
itself together. In no time, her skin was smooth and unblemished.

"Are you going to be alright?"

The goddess smirked. "Why, sweetheart, you almost seem to care."

Ares bit his lip, "I do care." He quickly averted his gaze when Xena's eyes
shot toward him.

"I'll be fine," she spoke softly. "Just a bit of rest, and I'll be good as
new."

The Warrior Prince nodded, exchanging a worried look with his mother before
clambering into the bed beside the goddess.

"What are you�"

"Shh. Rest."

Xena subsided, watching Cyrene slip out of the room.

His breathing was steady and soothing by her ear. She twisted to look at him.
His chocolate eyes met hers, so warm. No matter what happened to him, his eyes
never changed, not even when she'd switched his body with that of his nemesis,
Caesar. His touch, his gaze, so warm and passionate. Everything about him
suggested passion, from the sharp angles of his cheekbones to the lush fullness
of his lips. Even facing the power-crazed wannabe empress of Rome, Callisto, he
never lost that depth of passion. There was something else in those brown eyes
now, though. Something she'd never seen displayed before her.

"You're afraid, aren't you?"

Ares blinked, "What?"

"You're afraid of this. Of finding out that I can be hurt and die. I'm your
constant. No matter what happens around you, I will come back again and again to
try to convince you to come back to me. Now you find out that that's not
certain, that I am not forever, and that frightens you. It's like having to face
loss for the first time all over again."

He shook his head, his eyes tightly shut. "No. I don't care what happens to
you."

"You used to be a much better liar."

His strong arm snaked around her slim waist, pulling her snug against his
body, "You'll be forever. I'll never lose you."

Xena sighed softly, breathing in the warm masculinity of his scent. "I hope
you outlive me, Aer," she said drowsily.

He gnawed on the inside of his cheek. She hadn't called him that in a long
time.

He had no idea what she was talking about.

"I hope I don't, my Lady."

_________________________________________________________________________
He woke late that night with an empty feeling. Xena was gone.

He got up off of the bed reluctantly, and was suddenly struck with the
knowledge that something was missing. He looked back at the rumpled sheets.
Warmth. That was missing. Warm sheets.

Warm sheets scented with cool, sweet water and the hint of peaches.

Her scent.

He headed toward the door, wondering if he'd find her downstairs.

A familiar blue blaze threw stark shadows upon the floorboards.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Ares swung around, an unbidden smile touching his lips before he caught
himself.

She reached up, pulling something over his head and tucking it into his
leather vest. He caught a glimpse of the pendant as it glittered in the weak
moonlight. Two snakes, entertwined.

"Promise me you won't take it off until this is over."

"I promise."

"Promise me."

"I promise. I promise. I promise. I say it once, I say it twice, I say it
thrice, and that makes it true."

The childhood adage had been a favourite of Ares and Lyceus. He'd always used
it whenever he wanted to really convince his mentor that something was true.

She loosely tucked him into the bed again, and as he watched, confused, she
took a seat at the foot of the bed.

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

She blinked, genuine surprise flitting across her face. "Sleep?" she
repeated. "I don't understand."

"You know? When people lie down and rest so that their bodies can replenish
their strength?"

"I know what sleeping is," she grunted.

Ares carefully kept a straight face, struck by the absurdity of the
situation. "That's nice; ever tried it?"

"Yes, smartass, but I don't need sleep right now. Now rest, and stop
bothering me."

The Warrior Prince stared at her for a long moment, gnawing on the inside of
his lip, before he deliberately slid out of bed and strolled over to plant a
short kiss on her cheek. He grinned at her violated glare and leaned in closer,
forcing her to inch back onto the bed. Averting his eyes briefly, he murmured,
"I'd rather have you there beside me."

Xena's jaw dropped. "What?"

Gods, so beautiful. If he just pushed her tunic to the side, he could--what
the hell did he think he was doing? She was messing with his head again. He
twisted to a side and shoved her off of the bed. "I said get out of my
room."

She glared at him from her seat on the floor, and slid into the aether with a
muttered profanity.

Ares laid down, shutting out the vague realization that she hadn't been doing
anything. He would have felt it.

_________________________________________________________________________
The Halls of War materialized around Xena.

The little bastard. He'd obviously wanted her. Unbidden, the sensation of hot
skin sliding against hers and an incredibly fullness she'd never felt before and
could never find again, no matter who she fucked, hit her so strongly that she
couldn't suppress the shiver that slid down her spine.

A nearly perfect warrior and a spectacular lay. So why the fuck couldn't she
have him?

A halo of golden curls entered her field of view, framing Aphrodite's sweet
smile. "Poor sis. You want me to go talk to him?"

Xena snarled, flopping down onto her enormous bed and burying her face in the
heavy silk sheets.

A light hand on her hip made her roll onto her back, and Aphrodite deftly
undid the hooks on her leather pants. Sliding the supple material down Xena's
hips, Aphrodite placed a light kiss on her flat belly. A shudder of pleasure
caused Xena to take in an unnecessary breath when the Love Goddess's warm tongue
skipped lightly across her clit and slipped through her wet folds.

Xena pushed her sister off and quickly refastened her pants. "Thanks,
Aphrodite, but not now."

Aphrodite's smile held far too much understanding for Xena's liking. "The
warrior babe doesn't know what he's missing," she declared before blowing a kiss
and vanishing in a shower of glitter.

Xena looked down at the floor irritably, eyeing the golden specks embedded in
the black throw rug. Those were never going to come out.

_________________________________________________________________________
It wasn't anywhere near dawn when Ares rolled out of bed, snatching up his
sword. Hurtling out of the window, he hit the ground running before he skidded
to a halt.

"Oh. Shit."

Spears, banners and armoured forms brimmed along the rolling hills
surrounding Amphipolis.

In no way could so many troops have appeared so quickly without godly
intervention. Ares did a quick mental count. There were too many. The village
would be flattened, unless...

"Xena."

The Goddess of War appeared, a bright, faintly predatory smile upon her lips.
"Do I hear someone call my name? Oh, I wonder who it could be? Tell me, my
Chosen one, did you hear someone call my name?"

"Cut the crap."

The smile vaporized. "I wouldn't take that tone, man. I'm not the one who
called for your help." Xena tugged stiffly at her tunic and crossed sleekly
muscled arms under her breasts. "What do you want now?"

Ares swore under his breath, eyeing the infuriating goddess. "You can see the
army as well as I can. Joxer's not much help in the physical combat
department."

"So?"

Ares glared, knowing that she was pretending incomprehension. "So I need to
get rid of the army before it destroys my village."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You're the godsdamned god of war. Do something."

"No."

Ares's dark eye twitched as all that was familiar slid out of his grasp.
"What?" She usually jumped at the chance to have him owe her a favour.

"I can't. Those are Hera's followers. If I mess with them, Zeus will murder
me."

"Xena, my family..."

Xena turned her gaze to the banners. "Cyrene's a nice lady," she muttered
softly.

Ares could tell that she was wavering. "Please."

The wargoddess shifted uncomfortably. "I can't interfere personally," she
maintained, "the best I can offer is my army, and even then, I'm going to get
shit from my parents."

Ares's dark eyes blazed. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Me, leading your
army again after all these seasons."

A condescending smirk took up residence on Xena's face. "Recall that you
asked me for help, dear. Now, I could just as easily retract my
offer. To be honest, I was planning on giving Zeus a wide berth, considering
that I just took that protective amulet you're wearing from his private and very
well guarded rooms."

Ares glanced down at the leather strap visible above the neck of his tunic.
He took hold of it and began pulling the pendant from under his shirt. "Fine,
I'll give it back, then�"

Xena's hand was suddenly encasing his wrist in an implacable hold. "You
promised."

Meeting her ice-like gaze, Ares found himself obediently letting the amulet
drop. She moved away, and he was furious that he had blindly followed her
orders. When he could think again, that is.

"So?"

Ares stared at his goddess' tall, arrogant, scabbard-covered back
resentfully. "Fine."

"What do you say?"

He seethed at the bitch's tone. "Thank you�"

He stepped right up to her and pushed his belt dagger right through her
chest. "�my dear Lady."

Xena grinned, pleased by her Chosen's utter boldness. "Temper, my Prince,"
she admonished mock-severely, and faded from view.

_________________________________________________________________________
Ares suppressed an irritated growl. True to her word, Xena had delivered the
army. They were gifted warriors, remarkable well-trained, and intensely loyal.
And each man to whom Ares had spoken had a story to tell about the Goddess of
War. No matter how the story started, it always came down to her prowess in bed.
She was a jungle cat, according to some, and a sultry demoness, according to
others. Ares' head spun. He was not jealous.

Strong hands touched his shoulders and massaged the tension from them.

Ares shrugged the hands off, something that suspiciously resembled a pout on
his lips. "Shouldn't you be charming the pants off all your warriors out
there?"

"Do I detect jealousy, my dear?"

"I'm sure that's what your overblown ego would love to believe."
Xena came around to face him, giving him an infuriatingly indulgent smile.
"So why did you ask?"
He stared at her. Her impossibly blue eyes reflected gold firelight and
glittered with merriment, but the glow could never hide the wild hint of blood,
of clashing swords, of victory and glory. It drew him in like a moth, igniting
his blood so that it swept through his veins, bringing the euphoria that only
war could provide. The intense heat pooled in his face, his skin... his
groin.

"Ah... There it is. How I've missed the darkness inside you."

"Sex is not darkness."

"My dear boy, for us, sex is always darkness. It's a battle. It's living,
it's fighting, and it's dying." She cocked her head. "The way you want me is
darkness."

Ares sneered. "I wouldn't want you if you were the last woman on the
planet."

"Really? And I suppose that's just your body stiffening hatefully at my
proximity?" Her gaze fell pointedly.
Dammit! He'd hoped that she wouldn't notice. He turned his back and
adjusted himself to a more comfortable position, and she laughed. The bitch
actually laughed.

"Modesty doesn't become you, Ares."

"Fuck off, Xena."

"Thought you'd never ask."

Her arms slid around his waist, one hand slipping into his vest, and one
reaching for his belt.

He spun around, landing a solid backhand to her jaw. "I meant it, Xena. If
you're looking for a whore, I'm sure the entire population within ten kilometres
would be more than happy to service you."

She stepped quickly into the aether, but not before Ares caught the hurt in
her eyes. Staring at the empty space in which she had stood, he dismissed it as
his imagination.

_________________________________________________________________________
"Ares, we've pretty much blocked all access to Amphipolis. I've got a few
squadrons digging spike traps, and the scouts that returned reported that Hera's
army is planning an all-out assault on us, not the village." Joxer paused, a
glint of admiration in his eyes. "You were right. How did you know that they
wouldn't go after the village?"

Ares yawned widely. "Hera may not be a warrior, but she's not stupid. She
knows that we're watching her. She made the initial mistake of moving her entire
army into one area, and if she moves to spread out, she knows that we could move
quickly enough to flank her. No, a frontal assault was the only answer." He
squeezed Joxer's shoulder. "You've done a lot for me; thank you. How about you
get some rest now? Tomorrow will be a long day."

Joxer's normally-cheerful face was arranged in an adult expression that Ares
rarely saw. He bit the inside of his lip, and asked, "Are you going to be
alright? You know how you get around�"

"I can handle Xena," Ares interrupted.

"Oh, I know that. It's just that�"

"Joxer." What did Joxer know of the trouble Ares had when dealing with Xena?
Ares thought back to the times that Joxer had confronted the Goddess of War. He
had it, Ares realized with a jolt. That look. Ares found himself looking
at Joxer a bit differently. The battered pot-metal armour hid most of him, but
Joxer wasn't quite so young anymore. Ares made a mental note to invest in some
new clothing for Joxer. "Thanks," he said, "I'll be careful."

Ares waited until Joxer had exited the tent before giving his chair at the
rickety, map-strewn table a dirty look. "What do you want?"

Xena appeared, sans her usual flashy entrance. "You always know when I'm
here." She studied him with unconcealed interest. "I wonder how that is. Perhaps
I have a certain... presence."

"More like a certain stink."

She laughed. "So the oaf is warning you against me. How fitting. Are you
worried that I'm going to sink my claws into you?"

"Leave Joxer alone, Xena. He's been through much more than you will ever
understand."

"Wouldn't dream of it. He doesn't interest me."
She was standing just behind him now, and very faint hints of her scent
drifted around him. She smelled like the earth below his feet, like the taste of
water, but also like blood.

"You were at a battle."

Ares got a toothy grin in return. "Yes I was, and it was glorious. A warrior
took a fatal wound to the chest. His blood was trickling down beneath his
armour, and he screamed my name. He screamed as he ripped through half a dozen
of the enemy, his own blood bubbling in his throat, all before he died..."

He watched her mouth as she continued speaking: her dark mouth, full and
inviting, flushed with the blood pounding through her veins. She spoke of men,
of throwing oneself into a fight, no thoughts, no inhibitions, only action; she
spoke, and battlelust rose within him. A haze settled about his vision, and
energy coursed through his body. He watched her mouth until he could bear it no
more, and he tugged her closer and covered her mouth with his own.

It was almost as if she had been expecting his actions. She responded
immediately. Her mouth pressed hard against his own, and her tongue coaxed his
lips apart with a few quick sweeps, and masterfully curled along the underside
of his mouth, sending jolts of desire through his entire body. She inched him
backward, and his knees were threatening to give way when she leaned into him,
sending him tumbling down onto his thick blankets. She was straddling his leg,
one thigh pressing firmly against his crotch. Her hands, oh her hands were
everywhere, sliding into his vest and over his leathers. Ares reached for her,
his movements feverish with excitement. He pulled her closer to him, and he
froze when the cold metal of her belt-dagger dug into his side.

She seemed to sense his sudden misgivings because their clothing
disintegrated from their bodies, and he gasped at the feeling of hot skin.

No matter what she had originally thought, Xena certainly hadn't been
expecting this. She shifted so that she could slip her hand in between their
bodies, and she traced a line over Ares' inner thigh and across the smooth skin
between his legs through the soft curls covering him. His mouth opened slightly,
his eyes drifted shut, and Xena felt something indescribable pour into her
chest, making it ache with fullness. She watched him reach for her, but then he
stopped again.

Ares studied Xena with what was left of his control. "You sicken me," he
said, and he rolled her over onto her back. There was no mistaking the pain in
her eyes this time, and he almost apologized. He pressed his mouth to her jaw
and trailed tiny nips and licks down to her collarbone. There was a strange
sense of gratification in knowing that she could be hurt. He propped himself up
on his elbow, and his other hand stroked down her shoulder and her arm to
entangle his fingers with hers. She could be hurt like him.

Xena found herself sucking in an unnecessary breath when Ares mumbled, "I've
missed these," and the rumble and warmth of his breath tickled the sensitive
skin on the underside of her breast. His soft kisses moved lower, she felt his
hand drawing one leg up and out, and her thoughts lapsed into incoherency.

'Gods,' Ares thought as looked up at her, absently traced small circles over
her�soft, soft as feathers�inner thigh with his tongue, 'She's beautiful.' She
looked different. With her head tilted back and mouth fallen open, she looked...
trusting. Shock caused his fingers to tighten and dig into her skin, eliciting a
murmur and a quick glance at him as she raised her head. His tongue flicked
lightly, just across one outer fold of her centre, and she arched, breaking eye
contact.

"Tease," she muttered, and his resulting chuckle drew a tiny, sharp gasp from
her. His hands�large, calloused; he hated them�pulled apart her blush-pink skin,
and he leaned in to lap at the ridge that led to that tiny hood. Her scent, her
taste filled him and played merry hell with his senses. Mighty lady miss goddess
of war, dark angel of blood and death, she trusted him. Half her family plotting
to take her throne, the future of mankind resting on her shoulders, and she
trusted him. Trust. She never knew the meaning of trust.

Ares pushed back that hood over the hardened nub of her clit, and brushed his
thumb across the underside. She hissed, and Ares propped up his arm to prevent
her legs clenching reflexively together. Using the same soft, light strokes as
before, his tongue caressed her clit while his fingers toyed with the fine hair
that tickled his nose. He could feel her legs trembling helplessly under his
hands. She was so very warm, and When he was sure that she couldn't last a
moment longer, he pulled himself up so that his hips were between her thighs,
and he could see her face. Her eyes opened wide, her lashes casting long shadows
on her flushed cheeks, and she watched him wordlessly as he braced himself above
her with one hand. Raw sensuality and childish openness flickered in her gaze.
He used his other hand to grasp his cock and slid the tip over the slickness
between her legs. So intensely warm. He guided the head to her opening before
removing his hand and setting it carefully by the side of her head. Her black
hair fanned out around her eyes, indigo in the firelight... her lips, dark and
swollen with bite-marks from her teeth. He leaned down and kissed her, slowly,
leisurely, and with a roll of his hips, he sank into her.

Pleasure, pure, incapacitating pleasure, lanced through his veins, his entire
body. Gods, she felt good. His pace was unhurried, his movements guided by the
pleasure. He reached down, her eyes holding his under hooded lids, and he
stroked her with one finger. He loved watching her like this, unguarded and
yielding, her eyes drifting shut. He loved her open response to his touches and
his motion. He loved�

He felt it when she came, ripples of ecstasy crashing through her, her hands
holding him tightly and closely. He'd unconsciously increased his tempo, he
realized, barely able to think through the haze in his head and the sensation of
wet and skin. Then, she clenched around him, and his last thought was
'Xena,' before a white-hot fire engulfed him and swept him away.

Afterwards, 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 everytime, 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 everytime 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 soft in the head in my old age. Or hard of hearing. 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.
Everytime 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 slitted 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 skeptically.

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 was 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 shapen 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 priviledge 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, and if you do anything to hurt her, I
swear by the river Styx that you will wish that your
great-great-great-great-grandfather had never been born." His voice had steadily
grown colder during the repetition of the word "great," until the threat ended,
frigid enough to sheathe the world in ice.

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 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 helmetful 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 shriveled
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 wanting him? The last thought tore through his mind, his heart and his
soul. The sting 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, he felt only one regret: abandonment, and he didn't know
why.

"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 who'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 just looked at her. She did save me...

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'll be back soon. 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 at her insistence. 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 godsdamn 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 Lady," 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 slid through her moist folds, 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, squeezed her
breast once before stroking the underside lightly until shivers ran down her
length. 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 coughed in alarm and covered her mouth.

She pulled his hand away. "Aren't you afraid of falling anymore?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"I can hardly fall. You need me up here to protect you from dragons and
scorpions."

"More like I protect you," she muttered under her breath. "Wimp."

Ares performed an awkward one-armed hug. "You just keep thinking that."

They sat still, staring up at the sky.

"So, what do we do?" 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."
- 1
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Force of Habit