Cover Art By Tango

By LadyKate

One look was enough to determine that Gascar's camp had been deserted for hours, probably since the day before. They might have left right after the search party had returned from the farm, Gabrielle thought as she looked around in the moonlight. The pungent smell of horses, mixed with the stale odor of bad cooking, was already wearing off.

The thing to do now was look at the tracks and see in which direction Gascar and his band had gone. She lit a lantern, jumped down from her horse and walked across the site, idly kicking at the trash that got underfoot: a broken wine jug, a torn boot, the remnants of a fried chicken.

She followed the tracks to the road. It looked like they were definitely headed toward the Horada pass, following the false lead.

Then she remembered how, seemingly in another life, she and Ares -- also mortal then, but accidentally and briefly -- were trying to find the enchanted scroll that had undone his powers and screwed up everything else. "Where'd you learn to read tracks like that?" Ares asked, and she proudly told him Xena had taught her. They started talking about Xena and realized, to their mutual consternation, that they had something in common: an unbridled enthusiasm for the Warrior Princess.

Gabrielle put down the lantern, sat down on the trampled grass, and wept silently.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she thought that she should go toward Horada, look for other campsites, make sure that Gascar's men had indeed left the valley. But what was the point? Of course they'd left. She might as well admit it; the real reason she had gone out wasn't to make sure that the way was free for Ares to leave. She knew it and Xena knew it.

A chill wind blew through the trees and lashed at her wet face. Gabrielle hunched her shoulders, wishing she'd taken a cloak with her, wishing she'd never had this crazy idea, wishing she weren't such a damn fool. She prided herself on how strong she had become since leaving Potadeia, and yet here she was, getting out of the house like a good little girl so that Xena could -

She shivered and crossed her arms, trying to shield herself from another nasty gust of wind. The moon was hiding again. Her thoughts went back to the first and only time she had been with a man: her wedding night with Perdicas, kind sensitive Perdicas who had been so afraid to hurt her that it was a wonder anything happened at all. And it had been good, in spite of their fumbling; he had held her so lovingly in his arms, caressed her with such eager tenderness. Oh, it would be nothing like that for them -- they were probably going at it like animals, doing wild, bizarre things like in those carvings in Aphrodite's temple... Stop it. Stop it. She clutched her head. This was a good way to go insane.

What if Xena had felt the same way about her and Perdicas, back then? If it had been even half as agonizing for her... No, impossible -- Xena couldn't have had such feelings for her at the time, she was sure of it ... or almost sure. And there was that other time when she had nearly left Xena to stay with Najara; she wondered vaguely if, underneath all her spiritual pretensions, Najara had been interested in her that way. Maybe she had betrayed Xena first, and now it was coming back to haunt her.

Oh, but she had betrayed Xena far worse, betrayed her to the cruel tyrant Ming Tien when Xena went to Ch'in to kill him at Lao Ma's request; not because she wanted to stop Xena from committing murder, as she had told herself then, but because she had felt so threatened by Xena's bond to this mysterious woman from her past. Jealousy -- even if it was a friend's jealousy at the time, not a lover's -- had pushed her to do something that nearly destroyed them both, nearly cost Xena her life. She couldn't allow it to happen again, couldn't succumb to that emotion; she could never, ever again let herself act on jealousy.

Something wet landed on her hand. She hadn't even noticed that she was crying again. No, wait a minute... Another drop fell on her arm, then on her back. Oh, why not. If she was going to sit here cold and alone while Xena was in a warm bed with him, she might as well get rained on.

The rain ended almost as quickly as it began, and Gabrielle felt irritated at herself for wallowing in self-pity like that. She had known what she was doing when she had told Xena, in so many words, to go ahead and sleep with Ares. Xena's feelings for Ares might run deeper than she had realized before, but if it came down to a choice, Xena would always choose her. They were meant to be together -- Xena and Gabrielle, Gabrielle and Xena, two halves of one whole -- and they always would be. She had to be strong, for Xena.

Gabrielle got up and walked back to where she had left Clio. At the sight of her, the horse snorted impatiently and stamped her foot.

"We're going." She patted Clio on the muzzle. "Sorry you had to wait.”

The sky was a solid black now, the night pitch-dark, but she still put out the lantern once she reached the road. If she did run into Gascar's men, she had to spot them before they spotted her.

She rode at a trot toward the Horada pass, reciting poems in her head to keep her mind off other things. It seemed to be working, as long as she remembered to steer clear of anything involving love and jealousy.

It had been nearly an hour since she had left Gascar's camp. The rain had started again, a small drizzle that wouldn't even give her the satisfaction of getting thoroughly, miserably, melodramatically soaked. Gabrielle thought of taking refuge in the thick grove by the roadside. Just then, she saw distant lights moving toward her. Probably just a caravan of merchants traveling late -- but it was best not to take chances. She rode off the road and waited behind the trees. At least it was relatively dry.

Soon enough, she heard the low rumble of hooves, getting closer, and then still-unintelligible voices. She peered between the trees. There were at least twenty-five men on horseback, three of them carrying lanterns.

"... an' he sez, 'Yes, Miss -- would you hold the horse, please?'" said a boorish voice followed by a gale of crude laughter -- it was apparently the punchline to a joke.

The wavering light of a lantern snatched a man's face out of the darkness in a yellowish cloud of watery mist, and Gabrielle stifled a gasp, her hands tightening on Clio's reins. It was Demetrius, the young warrior who had led the bounty hunters' raid on the farm in search of Ares and had tried to banter with her while she posed as a peasant girl.

They were back.

A heavy, deep voice said, "Hey, Demetrius. How much further to that damn farm?”

* ~ * ~ *

Ares lifted a hand and brushed his knuckles over Xena's face, tracing its outline. She lay on top of him, her hair cascading down on his chest and shoulders, a soft twinkle dancing in the infinite blue of her eyes. The shadows on the walls swayed gently as the flame in the lamp flickered, its glow made warmer by the glimpse of densely knit darkness in the half-open shutters.

She leaned forward to pluck a short kiss from his lips. Never, ever again would he complain about mortality.

"Hey," Xena said.

"What?”

"Was this your" -- there was mischief playing at the corners of her mouth -- "your first time as a mortal?”

"Gods." He laughed ruefully. "Was I that bad?”

She pressed her forehead to his, chuckling.

"You were great.”

"It wasn't. I mean, wasn't my first time." And thank the Fates for that; it had been embarrassing enough with whatever her name was. There hadn't been many; just the occasional woman in a village or on a farmstead who would offer him a hot dinner and a warm bed with her in it.

Ares thought he saw a shade of disappointment cross Xena's face.

"Or maybe it was," he said. "First time ever. ”

Her eyebrows twitched in puzzlement. He drew her close and touched his lips to hers.

When he opened his eyes, there was understanding in her look -- and then, unexpectedly, a trace of sadness.

"Ares..." she said thoughtfully. "How old are you?”

It had to be a bit disconcerting to her, to know that he was a few thousand years old. He was jolted by the realization that it was a bit disconcerting to him, too. Was he starting to think like a mortal?

"I told you my life didn't really begin until I met you. You just never believe me when I say this stuff." He grinned at her. "Guess that means you're in bed with a younger man.”

"Oh yeah.... right.”

She gave Ares a slow, lingering, teasing kiss. As he locked his arms around her and parried the play of her tongue, her breath quickened and she squirmed a little, grinding her hips into him.

"Uh -- " Dammit, there were some things about mortality he could still have done without. "You gotta give me some more time...”

"Well -- you're only human, Ares. I like that in a man.”

She dove to kiss his nipple, taking it gently between her teeth, swirling her tongue around it, making a tingling warmth spread under his skin.

"Maybe not that much more time...”

He heard her muffled, husky laugh and closed his eyes, ready to let the next wave lift him up, rock him, sweep him away. But something was worrying at his mind, some thought trying to wriggle its way out of the dark corner where he had squashed it earlier.

"Xena...." He ran his hand over her hair. "What happens tomorrow?”

She was still for a moment. Then she lifted her head. There was wistfulness in her stare, and uncertainty, and something like a hopeless plea.

"Maybe there is no tomorrow," she said softly.

"Yes, there is.”

Her face half-turned and framed by the pale golden light, Xena was a thousand leagues away. After a while she said, slipping her fingers through the hair on his chest, "You could stay here... you'll be safe -- no one will bother you. You know, you might find a kind of peace here that you might not find afterwards...”

It wasn't completely unexpected -- but still, it was hard, this fall from his newly built little Olympus on earth. So that was what she'd had in mind all along, to stash him away in this dump.

She finally turned to him and made a brave effort to smile.

"And I'll come and visit you...”

The anger he had felt earlier was stirring again, and he almost wanted to say something brutal -- You want me to sit around and wait for you like some damn concubine? -- but no, dammit, no, this could be their only night and it was not going to end that way.

Maybe she was right; there was no tomorrow. Ares gripped her shoulders and pulled her up, and when he kissed her again it was a hard demanding kiss, as if he were claiming her, making her his own, no matter what happened next.

After they broke apart, Xena took only a moment to breathe before she kissed him back with equal force. Then she slid down and caressed his nipples again, stroking, licking, using the lightest touch of her teeth until he was panting and gasping and more than ready for her. Ares' hands cupped her breasts as she took him inside her. At that moment he knew, with the same flat certainty that he knew he was mortal, that for her, he would wait not only on a farm but in an Elijan village. Maybe later, he would be irritated at himself for being so weak. Maybe later. But not now, not now.

* ~ * ~ *

"Shouldn't be more than a coupla hours, Gascar.”

Gabrielle recognized the voice as Demetrius', even though the darkness had swallowed up his face once again.

"You sure you can find it?”

Clio picked this moment to toss her head, making the leaves rustle, but the men must have thought it was the wind. Gabrielle lifted her hand, which suddenly seemed to belong to someone else, and put it on the mare's head to still her. Each breath she made was burning her throat.

"Sure thing, Gascar," Demetrius said with a false joviality that disguised a hint of fear.

"You fuck up one more time, and I'm gonna make you regret you ever joined up for this job.”

"Hey, how was I supposed to know it was him?”

"How indeed," Gascar snorted. "You were too busy making eyes at some little hussy." (As the men guffawed, Gabrielle felt a sickly heat rise all over her face and neck.) "Good thing we didn't get too far away.”

"Xena's gonna pay for this," said Demetrius.

"Listen, smart guy." Gascar's band had ridden past her, and the voices were starting to fade. "We don't wanna mess with Xena unless we have to. If Ares is in there alone, we go in, do the job, and go off to collect the bounty. Got that?”

"Got it, Gascar. You're the boss.”

Gascar grumbled something about the dark night and the rain, and then the men's voices could no longer be heard over the wind and the clatter of hooves. When all trace of them had dissolved into the night, Gabrielle let out her breath.

Biting her lip too hard in concentration, she lit her lantern to look for the path. There was a shortcut through the woods and she was going to find it. She couldn't panic, couldn't panic or she would get lost. Focus and stay calm, just like Xena. All of her consciousness had shrunk to a single thought -- Don't let them get to the house first -- but if that was focus, it wasn't making it any easier to stay calm. A vision of Xena in Ares' arms, her face peaceful, her head on his shoulder, intruded momentarily into her mind; this time, though, the pang barely registered. Right now, it didn't matter who Xena was with, only that she might still be sleeping, exposed and unprepared, when Gascar and his men attacked.

* ~ * ~ *

The oil lamp had burned out when Xena woke up. She turned to settle more comfortably and laid her head on Ares' chest, listening to the distant sound of his heart, to his soft level breath. As her eyes got used to the dark, she looked up at him, just able to make out the shape of his features. It all came back to her: the look on his face when they made love, a look of pleasure that was almost agony, of unbearable tenderness, of something like surprise; the sound of his sighs that deepened into moans; the strength of his arms as he pulled her down toward him when it was too much for him to endure. "Don't let me sleep," he had muttered afterwards, still holding on to her, "don't let me sleep" -- only to drift away moments later.

She didn't want to wake him yet. She stretched, and marveled at how light she felt. It was as if she had been carrying something heavy for a long, long time, desperately struggling not to drop it, and had finally let go.

Xena turned and lay on her back, and looked toward the window. Out there was a moonless night, a blanket of darkness still untouched by dawn, and --

Gabrielle.

The walls crumbled inside her, releasing a flood of misery. Gabrielle was out there alone and cold and unhappy. Xena felt a scalding shame at the thought that she had, at least briefly, wished this night would never end. She sat up abruptly and got out of bed, wanting to get away from herself more than from Ares.

She walked to the window, the floor cold and rough under her feet.

She had spent half the night rolling around in bed with Ares, barely giving a thought to the woman with whom she had pledged to share her life -- except when he'd asked her what would happen next, and she had been weak enough, or crazy enough, to all but promise that she'd sleep with him again. Xena pushed the shutters wide open and breathed in the cool air. I'll come and visit you... Would she actually have the nerve to tell Gabrielle she was going off to visit Ares? Gabrielle would probably nod quickly and avert her eyes, and that would make it worse. How could she have convinced herself that she wasn't betraying Gabrielle? Of course, Gabrielle had told her so ... but only out of desperation. It wasn't as if she had left Gabrielle much of a choice.

Something else was troubling her. Xena rubbed her arm ... the wetness on her skin -- it was raining. Dammit. She shouldn't have let Gabrielle leave -- should have gone with her -- should have gone after her and stopped her...

She went back and sat down on the edge of the bed. Ares stirred and sighed in his sleep.

Xena remembered the way they had looked at each other, his face lit with such quiet, simple happiness. Even if she could undo it, she wouldn't. She wouldn't take that away from him ... wouldn't take it away from herself.

Her eyes burning with unshed tears, Xena sighed and stared into the window. Maybe it would all work out somehow.

Outside, the black of the sky was now dabbed with the first streaks of pale grey. A bird began to chirp, tentatively at first and then louder as its warble was joined by another. She had to go back to her room; she owed Gabrielle that much. And leave Ares to wake up alone, and miss seeing him wake up and smile at her... Maybe she could wait a little longer. Maybe she could wake him.

She was still thinking about it when the predawn quiet exploded in a loud crash.

* ~ * ~ *

Ares bolted upright and groped automatically for the sword at his side. It took him a few moments to remember where he was. The farmhouse -- Xena --

Xena?

A dream ... no, not a dream, there she was, standing by the bed. Life was wonderful.

And it could also turn out to be really, really short, judging by all that banging and clattering in the house.

"Shit," Xena whispered. "All my weapons are in the other room -- “

"You think it's Gascar and the boys?”

He jumped out of bed, fumbling around for his clothes.

"Could be -- I don't know -- " She was slipping hastily into her shift.

"I'll go first." Ares had found the pants and hopped around trying to get into them. Knowing that those cockroaches could kill him was bad enough, but not being able to dress with a snap of his fingers -- even after all this time, it was damn frustrating.

"No, no -- give me your sword -- “

There was another clatter, followed by a shout of, "Xena! ”

Gabrielle? From sheer shock, he missed the pant leg, stumbled and landed hard on the floor, muttering a curse. Great. If it isn't the morals squad.

"Xena!" she yelled again, her voice frantic. "Gascar's army is on its way!”

* ~ * ~ *

She hadn't beaten them by much. Not half an hour later, peering out of a side window of the house Gabrielle spotted Gascar's men coming over the ridge of the hill. It was almost light now, and the air rang with birdsong. Silvery beads of water still glittered in the trees, but the drizzle had ended, giving way to a wispy gray mist.

"They're here," she said, not looking at Ares. "She should be ready soon -- she'll give you the signal. I'll try to stall them as long as I can.”

"Yeah, yeah," he grunted. "You saved them the trouble of knocking down the door.”

"Well ... it's not like it would have been much trouble.”

In her determination to make enough noise to ensure that Xena and Ares were awake and presentable when she saw them, she had slammed the front door too hard behind her. It had come off the hinges and now held in place only because it was propped up by a rickety chair.

Gabrielle smoothed the blue dress she had put on over her warrior garb, and finally brought herself to glance at Ares. In the half-darkness, she thought she saw him give her a nervous look. It occurred to her that he might be worried she'd give him away to Gascar. She pursed her lips. Of course, Ares would get such an idea.

The warriors stopped outside the house. Some of them began to dismount, obviously trying to keep things quiet.

"You're on," Ares whispered tensely.

The porch groaned and squeaked under the heavy boots; the chair grated on the floor as the door was pushed slowly, and then came the expected crash as the door and the chair tumbled down. That was her cue.

Gabrielle screamed at the top of her lungs and raced toward the door, making a spur-of -the-moment detour to grab a couple of pots and a frying pan from the kitchen. Three men were already inside the house. Screaming again, she threw the pots at them and advanced, swinging the pan. At least for a moment, they were startled enough to retreat.

"What's going on?" said a heavy voice she recognized as Gascar's.

"Get out of my house, you -- you -- you no-good thugs!" she screeched as she ran out on the porch, waving the frying pan around.

"Go on, search the house," Gascar said irritably. Gabrielle took a look at him. He was stocky and broad-shouldered, with a scarred, craggy face, harsh yet unmistakably intelligent.

"No, no -- please! We're just poor peasants! We have no money ... there's nothing to take here!”

She knew she was giving a bad performance -- nothing like that brilliant improvisation last time. Maybe it could only have worked on the spur of the moment.

"Calm down, sweetheart," said Demetrius. "No one wants to rob you. We're after Ares.”

"Oh, it's you!" She tilted her head in what was meant to be a seductive manner. "Well, you know Ares has left -- my husband told you -- “

"Girlie, if that was your husband, I'm the Emperor of Rome," Gascar said. "You give us any more trouble and you'll be sorry. All right, boys, go in. And remember, don't bother trying to take him alive. You see him, you kill him.”

"Hey, Gascar," Demetrius said. "It could be fun, you know -- to have him on his knees, begging for mercy and all...”

"Shut up, you moron," Gascar snarled. "We're not here for your entertainment. We can't take any chances, not if Xena's helping him. Go on.”

Gabrielle stepped aside -- it wasn't time to start fighting yet -- and several of the warriors went inside the house. Gascar turned to her again, eyeing her thoughtfully.

"Wait a minute. You're no farm girl, are you." He scratched his beard and then looked at her with a crooked sneer. "I know -- you're Gabrielle, that girl who hangs around with Xena. The famous -- what do they call you again? -- Battling Bard.”

"She's famous?" said Demetrius, clearly impressed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gabrielle said.

"So," Gascar said. "None of my business really, but why is Xena hiding Ares? I heard about some of the things he did trying to get her back in his service -- set her up for murder and nearly got her hanged, didn't he?”

There was probably no point in trying to maintain the charade; Gascar was too smart. Still, she said feebly, "Really, sir -- you're mistaking me for someone else...”

"Come on, give it up. You know I'm on to you. Look here, I don't want any trouble with you or with Xena. All we want is" -- he drew a finger quickly across his neck and made a hissing sound -- "Ares.”

She stared back at him silently. Inside the house, the soldiers could be heard stomping around and knocking things over.

"You almost got away with it, you know," Gascar chortled. "Lucky for us Ares decided to get plastered in a tavern and spill the beans. One of the fellas there had heard about the bounty, knew which way we were headed, so he went after us and tipped us off. Once the barkeep told me he left with a tall dark-haired woman, it all fell into place. Otherwise, we'd still be on that wild goose chase, riding to the -- “

"He's getting away!" a man's voice shouted from inside.

Gabrielle turned and saw Ares jump out the window and bolt toward the barn. She held her breath.

"Shoot him!" Gascar yelled, forgetting all about her for the moment. One of the men drew his bow. Gabrielle swung the frying pan and it hurtled through the air, knocking him out just as he was releasing the arrow. Then she took off running as fast as she could, hearing Gascar bellow behind her, "Get him, dammit! And get her too!”

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that at least a dozen men were chasing Ares. So far, everything was going according to plan.

A man on horseback caught up with her and swung his sword; Gabrielle dove and rolled on the soggy grass, reaching under her dress to get one of her sais. It was a clean shot, right in the side of the neck; he made a choked sound, his hands going up, and sagged heavily, then tumbled to the ground while the startled horse neighed and bucked.

We're not here to participate in a bloodbath... That was what Xena had said to Ares when they'd tracked him down and told him about the bounty. Well, so much for that, Gabrielle thought, tugging angrily at the dagger. She ripped off her dress, almost tearing it in half, and wiped the blade on it before throwing the wet rag away. Two more men were already coming toward her. Meanwhile, Ares' pursuers had run into the barn after him. If the trap worked properly, any moment now --

A thunderous boom shook the ground as the barn exploded in flames.

* ~ * ~ *

Yeah, baby! Ares couldn't help grinning as he stopped to catch his breath and looked back at the giant ball of fire. Damn, she was good at this stuff.

"Are you okay?" Xena yelled, running up behind him.

"Yeah ... sure.”

More than okay. To make love to her and fight by her side in one night -- after this, one could die without too many regrets.

"Go ahead," he said. "I'll go round the house and take them from the back.”

That was the thing to do -- attack now, before Gascar and the surviving men had time to recover. To make sure they didn't recover too quickly, Xena's ululating battle cry pierced the morning mist, rising above the roar of the flames. Beautiful.

As Ares sprinted behind the shack, he almost collided with one of Gascar's warriors. The man, who looked shaken and confused, raised his sword somewhat tentatively. Ares' blow knocked it from his hand and sent it flying. With surprising presence of mind, the man lunged forward and went for his throat, taking him down into a puddle. The son of a bitch obviously hadn't washed in days, and his breath reeked of garlic. As they wrestled, Ares couldn't get an angle to turn the blade of his sword toward his attacker; finally, he jerked the hilt forward and rammed it into the man's head. His eyes rolled back and his hands slackened; he slumped, dropping his head on Ares' shoulder, and stopped moving.

With an effort, Ares pushed him off, not sure if his enemy was dead or unconscious, and sat up. He was muddy and wet, his face and neck splattered with blood. Yet again, the thrill of the fight had eluded him. Maybe he was just too close to it now, when he could still feel the man all over him, when he knew that the crunching bone and the thick gushing blood could have been his own. Yet mortals knew it too, and still felt the intoxication of deadly combat; he had felt it with them when he was a god. Maybe they were just used to it.

There wasn't time to think about it now. Ares dipped his palm in the puddle and ran it across his face, but the cold slimy water made him feel even dirtier. Picking up his sword, he jumped to his feet and ran toward the front of the house, to where he could hear the shouts and the clang of metal. He got there just in time to hear Gascar shout, "Dammit, it's just two of them!" and to prove him wrong by quickly taking down two of his men.

Breathing hard, he looked up and found himself staring into a pair of steely gray eyes, one slightly bluer than the other.

"Ares, " Gascar said in a low growl that actually gave Ares a shiver of fear.

The warlord charged.

Good thing he didn't have to fight Gascar when mortality was still new to him, when every movement felt slow and clumsy, hampered by the lack of god-power in his limbs and by the unaccustomed need to avoid injury. Even now, it wasn't going to be easy. Though past his prime, Gascar was good.

As their swords clashed, Ares saw a crooked sneer on the warlord's face.

"Not so much fun, is it, when you can't just zap people with fireballs?" Gascar was panting but he still managed to put some mockery in his voice. "You had it pretty good -- pushing people around, knowing no one could ever lay a hand on you... Well, guess what, you're just one of us now. You're not even that good a fighter.”

Parrying a blow, Ares scowled and bit his lip. The man was obviously trying to throw him off-balance, but knowing that didn't make it any easier to ignore his taunts.

"Don't worry, if we don't get you, someone else will," Gascar went on. "That's a pretty long list of people you pissed off. Lucky for you if they make it quick. Probably have you squealing like a stuck pig before you die...”

Ares flinched and barely avoided getting hit as his foot skidded. The morning light was in his eyes, peeking through the thinning clouds, making him squint.

"Shut up," he said through clenched teeth.

"Can't manage anything smarter than that, eh?" Gascar advanced on him, making him back away toward the house. "You know how pathetic you are? Even if you survive, you'll never be anything more than a loser" -- he made another thrust and the tip of his sword slashed Ares' arm -- "relying on Xena to bail you out...”

At that instant, Ares caught sight of her dispatching one of Gascar's men; she looked in his direction, and their eyes met. He wanted to laugh. To think that he'd let this blowhard get to him.

He chuckled, and the gloating in Gascar's face gave way to puzzlement. Ares' next blow nearly knocked the sword out of the warlord's hand.

"You have no idea," Ares said.

They fought silently after that, except for harsh gasps and grunts, in a whirl of thrusts and parries and blocks, steps forward and steps back on the slick ground; it ended when Ares' sword slid past Gascar's, metal grating on metal, and plunged into his stomach right underneath the armor. Gascar gave a hoarse cry, and as Ares yanked the blade out he swayed and sank to his knees. His eyes, already growing glassy and dim, looked up at the former God of War with that mix of agony, rage and disbelief which Ares had seen on so many faces over millennia. A strand of saliva hung from his open mouth.

"I'll see you in Tartarus ... someday," he rasped.

Ares nodded grimly.

"You probably will.”

A quick stab to the neck finished the job. He watched the warlord crumple, a dark pool of blood spreading over the shiny grass.

The last of Gascar's men were making their getaway over the top of the hill, their shouts and the neighs of their horses fading in the distance. A gust of wind whipped at the wet grass and made the flames rise higher over the still-blazing barn, where a moment later something crashed loudly, making a fountain of sparks shoot up toward the sky. The battle was over now. Ares wiped his face with a damp mud-streaked hand, trying to steady his breath. His eyes locked on Xena's again, and suddenly, there it was at last, that moment when fighting together made them one. He thought he saw a smile touch her parted lips.

She gave him an almost imperceptible nod, turned away and went to inspect the bodies.

Ares looked around and noticed Gabrielle approaching. The girl had actually come through for him; after everything that had happened, he hadn't been entirely confident of her dedication to keeping him alive.

He was still thinking of what to say to her when he saw her hand flash upward, a glint of metal in it.

No.

Ares was too paralyzed to move when the almost white blur sliced the air, swishing toward him. That little --

He expected to be thrown back by the sheer force of the blow, and to feel excruciating pain shoot through his body; but there was none of that. Instead, he heard a dull thud behind him. He whirled around. One of the men he had brought down before, and apparently only wounded, was sprawled with a sword clutched in his hand and Gabrielle's dagger buried in his neck, his head resting at an unnatural angle on the bottom step of the porch.

Ares' knees buckled, and he had to lean on his sword to stay on his feet. He blinked and gulped painfully for air, waiting for his heart to slow down.

"So ... it's come to this," he said, gasping. "The God of War ... saved by the little sidekick.”

Gabrielle gave him an exasperated look.

"You're welcome.”

Xena ran up and squeezed her in a hug, resting her chin on Gabrielle's shoulder and closing her eyes for a moment.

"Gabrielle ... thank you...”

"Yeah," Gabrielle said in a small voice.

"Are you okay?”

"I'm fine.”

Xena held her a few moments longer, then let go and went over to Ares. The sight of all the blood on him made her frown.

"Are you hurt?”

"Nah, just a scratch." He pointed to his arm. Then he glanced down at Gascar and said, almost admiringly, "He was one tough son of a bitch.”

"Come on," Xena said. "I'll take care of that for you.”

He followed her into the house, hoping Gabrielle wouldn't tag along. She did, of course.

In the kitchen, Ares took off his vest and washed off the blood while Xena went to get the bandages and the ointment. Then she cleaned and dressed his wound, and said with a quick half-smile, "All better now" -- and she was so close that he couldn't resist reaching up to plant a small kiss on the corner of her mouth. Xena tensed and stood up straight.

"I think we all need to wash up," she said. "I'll bring in some more water.”

She walked out briskly.

Smoke from the barn, with a hint of the nauseating smell of burning flesh, drifted into the kitchen through the small window. The fire was still crackling outside; the only other sounds were the occasional whinnying of a horse and the short screech of the rusty handle when Xena pulled up the bucket from the well.

She was gone for too long. After a while, Ares glanced at Gabrielle and saw her make for the door. He got up and went after her.

Xena was standing on the porch, with the full bucket at her feet. She leaned against a pole, absently running her hand over the rough wood, her head hung low.

"Xena." Gabrielle came up and touched her shoulder. "Is something wrong?”

She looked up, a faraway, perplexed expression on her face.

"We've got to do something about the bodies...”

"Drag them to the barn," Ares said. "Perfect for garbage disposal.”

"Yeah..." Xena lowered her eyes again. When she spoke next, she seemed to be talking to herself.

"This was one peaceful place in my whole life...”

Gabrielle shot Ares a look that said, "This is all your fault," and patted Xena's hands. As he watched Xena rest her cheek on the top of Gabrielle's head and press her hand, his mouth tightened bitterly. Three's a crowd. Yet he had to admit that right now, Xena needed the meddling blonde. How could he offer her comfort when her distress was somewhat baffling to him, something that he would surely never feel or even completely understand?

He turned and was about to go back into the house when he heard her say, "Ares.”

Something in her voice made Ares' heart skip a beat and the breath stick in his throat. He turned back. There was a timid, almost frightened look in her eyes.

"You can't stay here." She glanced furtively at Gabrielle. "Some of Gascar's men got away -- they could come back and -- " Her voice trailed off. "It isn't safe anymore.”

Her words seemed to hang in the air between them as he stood still, waiting for the verdict.

Gabrielle opened her mouth, looked from Ares to Xena and back, and sighed.

"You can travel with us for a few days," she said. "Until we find a safe place.”

Xena let out a long breath, her shoulders sagging a little.

Her voice sounded quite casual when she said, "All right.”

* ~ * ~ *

The clouds had cleared by the time they left the farm, riding side by side with Xena in the middle. Ares, unusually subdued, rode astride a horse taken from one of the dead men; it was a beautiful animal, its sleek hide almost jet-black with a tint of bronze. As Xena glanced at him, his ring glinted a bright white in the sun, hurting her eyes. She thought of Ares' almost childlike excitement when they'd found it on Gascar while dragging the body to the barn, and of his surprising squeamishness when it turned out that cutting off the dead man's finger was the only way to get the ring off. Their eyes met, and she turned away toward Gabrielle, who was staring straight ahead, her face tense.

Xena wasn't sure what would happen now -- not even sure what she wanted to happen. That was something new, and it scared her; it was as if she were riding a horse and had lost control of it, which hadn't happened to her since she was fourteen. Thinking too far beyond the next few days was a bad idea.

What she needed, what they needed, was a purpose. She remembered that when she and Gabrielle heard about the bounty on Ares, they had been on the way to Elaea; the once-quiet town, where the worship of the Olympians had been almost completely abandoned after news of the Twilight had reached the populace, had found itself embroiled in a nasty turf war between two upstart religious cults, and an old acquaintance on the city council had pleaded for Xena's help. They'd go to Elaea, then. That was the thing to do, pick up where they'd left off.

They rode for a while over the bright emerald-green hills, past sparse trees, past a distant cluster of huts with thatched roofs and a large vineyard where a few peasants were tending to the vines, across a shallow brook where the horses' hooves kicked up spurts of silvery droplets. When Ares spoke up, the sound of his voice was almost a shock.

"So. Are we going anywhere in particular?”

"Elaea.”

Gabrielle shot her a surprised look.

"What's in Elaea?" Ares asked.

"Couple of cults making trouble.”

Ares seemed to ponder this information. "Cults." He wiggled his eyebrows and gave her a fake grin. "Any -- interesting rituals? Virgins dragged kicking and screaming to the altar?”

Gabrielle sighed in exasperation.

"It's a job," Xena said curtly.

Ares nodded, obviously realizing the futility of attempts to make conversation. After another brief pause, he started whistling a tune that Xena recognized as an old Thracian war song. She could almost physically sense Gabrielle's impulse to yell at him to shut up. She thought of telling him to stop, but in a few moments he stopped on his own, and they rode on in silence.