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Home Unknown	By : katecooley Category: S through Z > Xena Views: 15190 -:- 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
- 30
- 31
I love all of my reviewers! You guys rock so hard! Feedback makes me work harder! And again, I�m sorry that updating is taking so damn long. This is getting harder and harder to bang out as I go.

Disclaimers in the first chapter, but you all know I don�t own this. The last season would�ve been SOOOO different.

Chapter 31 � Plans-a-Poppin�
He was not going to throw up. Just wasn�t. Not happening. Nope. Just in case though, he kept his head between his knees.
Just in case.
Joxer groaned out loud, grateful that no one was there to hear it or to witness his obvious distress. He was as far away from the Hall of Intellect as he could possibly get and still be on Olympus, but even that wasn�t far enough. The temptation to just zip down to Greece and keep running until he hit Chin was hard to ignore. He wasn�t sure what that would help� but at this point it couldn�t hurt.
What was it that Gabby had said about curiosity? Something about it killing a cat. He had to agree. This was definitely going to kill him � either from anguish in knowing it or in trying to fix it. His stomach gurgled sharply. An ulcer wouldn�t be out of place, either.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, he scolded himself. And with no one around to argue against it, he did it again. STUPID!

Fortunately, everyone on Olympus seemed to have other things to occupy them and he was allowed to be miserable all on his own. Which was fine. He wasn�t up to others being privy to this. This was bad. Really bad. Bad like few things were bad. And even worse now that he knew about it. Because now�
Now he had to do something about it.
Not that he especially wanted to � this was exactly the sort of thing that got his narrow butt into trouble time and again. He should steer as clear as he could of it. Or better yet, tell someone about it and enlist their help.

Now there�s a thought. But like before, he ruled out most of Olympus as either not caring or potentially going apocalyptic over it. And neither would get the job done. For a moment, he wished he were mortal again. Things were so much easier when you could rely on Hercules and Xena to take care of� stuff. As Joxer the Mighty, he�d been able to doofily mention things and prod the hero-types in the right direction. As Joxer, Undetermined God, he wasn�t sure if that would really cut it anymore.

But why not? They don�t know I�m all immortal and stuff� Right? As far as they know, I�m still Goofy Ol� Jox, trampling through Greece, setting things on fire in my wake. He sat up and retrieved his face from his palms. Now that he thought about it, that wouldn�t be a half-bad idea. They didn�t know. And Herc and Iolaus were already heading to Athens for the party� If there was a little nudge in the right direction� A few omens of trouble�
Joxer bolted up off the bench he�d been sulking on. He knew just the Omens for the job, too.

***
Cupid groaned and stretched. Everything hurt. His back hurt. His thighs hurt. His left shoulder hurt. His balls hurt. His wing joints hurt. His hair hurt. And his ass was a sore throb that twinged like a pulse all its own.
And his face was going to hurt from the huge, satisfied smile that was plastered there.
Gods, it was glorious!
He�d forgotten just how inventive his cousin could be when motivated. And how flexible he himself was. No one had bent him into a knot in a long time. Too long a time, he mused, trying to remember how to properly operate his limbs. Damn, but Strife was good.
It took a while for Cupid to lift himself up to a sitting position, as his body felt like it was mostly composed of melted butter and love-bites. He wondered if anyone truly ever appreciated the Mischief God. He wondered if anyone ever bothered to look past the wide, evil grin or the impish twinkle in those clear blue eyes. He assumed his father did � if anyone knew Strife, it was Ares. He wondered if anyone knew his cousin beyond work. Most people didn�t even address him by his proper name, sticking with Strife. Cupid knew he was guilty of that as well and made a mental note to try and avoid that from now on. At least when horizontal.
Besides, screaming �Erin� in the throes of passion had such a good ring to it. He made a mental note to definitely do MORE of that from now on. He wanted to try purring it, too, right in his cousin�s ear.
And speaking of that ear, where was it? And the rest of the luscious body it was attached to? Sitting up, Cupid could see that his large and lavish bed was mostly empty. And that just wasn�t acceptable. He should have double-armfuls of wriggling, pale madman to contend with. But he didn�t. Which meant that Strife was off somewhere� doing what?
The God of Love levered himself up and out of bed, ignoring his own nudity as he peered around the room. Nope � no Strife. No cousin in his salon either. Not in the lounge. Not in the main chamber. Cupid was starting to get a little� not worried, as Strife could definitely take care of himself. But concern was definitely there. The Mischief God had been a tad frazzled earlier and it could�ve resurfaced. Cupid didn�t much like the thought of his lover sulking somewhere. And as he progressed from room to room, it was becoming more likely that Strife took to wing, as it were, to escape any post-nookie awkwardness. And if this were his reaction, Cupid could assume that it would�ve been there in spades, too.

Aw, man. Cupid sighed as his search turned up nothing of any substance. Strife was good and gone. Damn. His wings wilted a little in dismay. And here he�d thought that they�d hashed that business out beforehand. Now he was going to have to trek over to his father�s temple and brave Aunt Rissy�s wrath to find his pale cousin again and� explain. Hopefully, Strife wasn�t busy closing himself off and would listen.
It wasn�t going to be easy or pleasant, but he�d explain and hope Strife wasn�t feeling very prickly, as he was wont to do in defensive mode. Cupid would have to butter him up, which wasn�t that hard. After all these years, Cupid kind of knew the guy. Honey rolls would probably be a good opening gambit � Strife was always more amenable with some sugar in his system. Cupid trudged to the kitchen in the Hall of Love � he knew he could just conjure them with a flick of his wrist, but he was sure Strife would appreciate the effort if he made them by hand.
Funny enough, he hadn�t been the only one with that idea.
Cupid walked into the destruction that was his kitchen with a perplexed look. It was as if someone had thrown a bunch of angry, wet cats inside and locked the door. Everything was everywhere. Piles of pots and pans. Clouds of flour. A block of butter with a wicked looking curved dagger sticking out of it. Ingredients floating through the air. And Strife, re-armored in his leather gear, bent over a large bowl, jabbing at something with his long finger.
Cupid watched silently as his cousin poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and prodded at whatever was inside the bowl, cursing a few times and then extracting his finger covered in transparent goop and supporting a tiny white fragment. Muttering something about �little eggy jerk-off� why can�t you just crack like you�re supposed ta�, he vanished it with a flick of his finger and went back to the bowl to get the next one. Cupid couldn�t help but laugh, which made Strife whirl around in a snap, his wide blue eyes catching his audience.
"NO!" That finger, still covered in uncooked egg, jabbed at his nude cousin and advanced quickly. Suddenly clean hands turned a surprised love god around and shoved him back out of the kitchen. "Go back ta bed!"
"Strife�"
"I�m workin� too hard on this! Shoo!"
"Shoo?" A grin curved on Cupid�s lips. Strife was damn near adorable when he was determined.
"Yeah, like shove off! Skedaddle! Scram! Scat!" And Strife tried to hide his answering grin, wrestling it back after a few moments. He pushed Cupid well away from the kitchen door. "G�wan already! Sheesh!"
"Str� Erin�" Cupid tried to purr it, but was overcome by a chuckle at the fact that Strife had enough flour in his hair to bake three loads of honey rolls.
"LOOK�" and he watched as Strife straightened himself out in a stiff ripple of discomfort. The pale mischief god took a deep breath and let it out again. "Look. I got this planned out an� it ain�t gonna work if yer out here instead-a bein� in there. �K?" For a second, Cupid worried that a brush-off was imminent. That was dispelled with a roll of ice-blue eyes and a kiss that tickled his diaphragm. "Idiot." Strife smiled almost shyly, gave him another wet smooch and turned him away from the kitchen. "Now git!"
Cupid goggled and grinned the entire way back to bed, relishing the warmth of the departing smack on the ass he�d gotten to move him along.
***
Ares chuckled, watching the byplay between his son and nephew. Evidently the Clue Boat had launched from dock fully manned. That was good. He�d have hated to resort to tying them up somewhere and making them face the truth. The War God waved a hand in front of the scrying mirror he kept in his bedchamber, clearing it. At least �Dite would settle down a little now. She�d been halfway to �frazzled� when he�d brought Cupid back from their father-son outing, worrying her nails to the quick and then, annoyed, flashing them back to manicured perfection. That woman worries about him too much.

Which wasn�t to say that he hadn�t worried about Cupid. He just handled it a mite better than she did. At least outwardly. Ares was glad there was no one there to argue that point with him at the moment.
And wait� why wasn�t there? Shouldn�t Joxer be around somewhere? All that worrying he didn�t do about his son (he scowled at no one in particular, but felt the need to do it anyway) came to bear on the former mortal who really shouldn�t be wandering around on his own. Not unclaimed as he was.
Turning back to the scrying mirror, Ares flicked through images of his children, his siblings� he even gave Xena and Herc a perfunctory peek. But Joxer wasn�t with any of them. On an unfriendly urge, he commanded a view of some of his least favorite people, including that dink Caesar, that King of Thieves offspring of Hermes� and then Athena and her ilk. A small knot of tension that he didn�t want to admit to slipped free as Joxer didn�t show up there, either.

Nothing for it, then, he mused. He grit his teeth and urged the glass to show him where Joxer was. He�d have to scour the thing with power later, hiding the newest god�s signature from anyone who might stumble on it. Ares knew that it was only a matter of time before Joxer was common knowledge, but he wasn�t in any mood to hasten it. It was safer, as he was sure that there were certain gods who would love a new dogsbody to push around. And, frankly, he wasn�t big on sharing. Never had been, never would be.
He resolutely ignored the reasons why � though he was sure he�d be hearing enough about it the next time he and �Dite crossed paths � and peered into the mirror.
Joxer appeared. And appeared. And appeared.

Ah. Ares ignored the twinge of relief in his chest. He�s in good hands. Not that it didn�t still bear watching�

***
"Bro!"
***
tbc
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