DISCLAIMER: See Part 1.
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"Storm's coming."

Xena looked up at the sky blanketed in dark bluish-gray clouds, shielding her eyes from the dazzle of silver at their edges. As if in response to her words, wind swept over the hills, flattening the silky grass, flapping at the horses' manes, startling the trees into loud rasping whispers.

"We can wait it out in that village." Ares pointed to the huddle of tiny houses in the valley below.

"Race you there," Xena shouted over another gust of wind. The first heavy droplets hit them as they rode down the hillside, and they barely had time to wrap themselves in cloaks before the downpour began. They raced the storm then, lashed by slanted jets of rain, squinting and gasping as the cool water streamed down their faces. By the time they reached the village, torrents of muddy water were rushing down the main street, splashing in cascades from under the horses' hooves. Luckily the inn was nearby. As they tied up their horses in the shed, a tow-headed kid of about twelve dove in to ask, "Take care of your horse, Miss? Sir?", and Ares threw him a coin before Xena could say that they'd do it themselves.

Leaving the boy to his task, they picked up their bags and ran inside the inn's murky warm anteroom, where rainwater pattered into a bucket on the floor. They looked at each other and laughed breathlessly, their cloaks and hair dripping.

The stocky middle-aged woman who had come out to meet them, a candle in hand, gave them a sullen look as if she were not only taken aback but almost offended by their mirth.

"You'll be wanting a room?" she asked, scratching her arm under a worn-out woolen shawl.

Xena nodded, taking off her sodden cloak and shaking off her hair. "Yeah."

"That'll be four dinars." The innkeeper turned and shuffled ahead, leading the way around a corner into a narrow hallway. "If you want to warm yourselves, there's a fire in the kitchen," she said grudgingly as she let them into the room.

After the door closed, Xena threw down her saddlebag and looked around for a place to hang up her cloak; she found nothing more suitable than the backboard of the bed. There was no other furniture except for a wicker chair with a ripped seat and a tripod by the bedside. The room, too small to look bare, had a blatant shabbiness about it, unrelieved by so much as an attempt at decoration; the air was soaked with a dusty dankness, and when she lit the stubby candle on the tripod, it was hard to tell the shadows on the coarse wooden wall from the stains and streaks of dirt.

Xena got out of her armor, sat on the bed and began removing her boots. She looked up to see Ares take off his vest and turn to her; the candle's reflections glittered in the tiny beads of water on his face and chest and deepened the soft brown of his eyes.

"So," he said, throwing the vest down on the chair. "We can go down and sit by the fire in the kitchen -- or -- we can get warm right here."

Xena's leather tunic and skirt landed on the chair, on top of his vest. She flopped back on the bed, smiling, listening to the racket of the storm outside.

"Get warm right here," she said.

It had been about five months since she had sailed to Lemnos with Ares, and Gabrielle had gone her separate way.

The first few days, on the boat, had been the worst. Xena had spent most of that journey withdrawn into her own world, a world filled with Gabrielle. Her mind had swarmed with memories of friendship and love, of fishing and cooking together and scrubbing each other's backs in a tub, and listening to Gabrielle's stories by the campfire; of Gabrielle's face made helpless and almost bewildered by the pleasure of lovemaking, of laughing together and facing death together; of all the times when she had kept her humanity thanks to Gabrielle's stubborn compassion, and when she had watched in horror as life's cruelties threatened to crush Gabrielle's light. Other things came to her too: images of Gabrielle somewhere out there, riding through the countryside, lonely and hurting. Ares had quickly given up on trying to distract her or lift her spirits, and had limited his attentions to bringing her food, dragging her outside when she spent too much time cooped up in their cabin, and gently prodding her back below if she was still up on the deck late at night. At the sight of him, or even at the thought of him in those days, anger and guilt had jostled and pulled inside her, leaving little room for more tender feelings.

She had stood on the deck staring into the empty sky, and what stared back at her was the fact, as implacable as death, that she had let Ares separate her and Gabrielle. It struck her that she had been so moved by Ares' love and his sacrifice because she had considered him incapable of love and selflessness; had she taken Gabrielle for granted because Gabrielle had always been good and loving and giving? Ares had changed for her, and that made her feel good -- knowing that she had helped a tiny spark of light grow inside the dark god to whom she had once been bound through her own darkness. That was it: she'd been so busy patting herself on the back for being Ares' guiding light that she had lost the friend and soulmate who had guided her, without whom she couldn't have stayed on her path. Maybe she had taken -- stolen Gabrielle's light and given it to Ares. That thought clenched like a stiff cold hand around her heart, the chill of it tingling right through to her fingertips.

Sometimes, in those long hours of looking at the sea, pacing around the deck, and lying on the bunk, she wanted to resent Ares and couldn't; sometimes, she resented him and hated herself for it. Xena reminded herself that he hadn't driven Gabrielle away, and that he hadn't seduced her; she was the one who had gone to him on the farm. (Once, the thought squirmed into her mind that it was Gabrielle who had told her to go to him; but she quickly flinched away from it --she would not sink so low as to blame Gabrielle.) Whatever she could hold against him, all he had done since then was love her and share in her life, and risk his life to save her daughter, and finally give up his godhood for her again. If she froze him out now, she would be punishing him for the best there was in him. Only, at that point, she wasn't sure she had any love left to give.

In the six nights on the ship, she and Ares had made love once, after that disastrous first time. They still bunked together, and she still wanted him; except that, no matter what her body wanted, something was wilting and dying inside her soul. One night, when they settled on the bunk, she felt him shiver and draw in his breath as her hand slid over his thigh, and suddenly she couldn't resist touching him through the thin linen of his pants. He shook under her touch and made a stifled sound, and the heat rose inside her in response. Already on top of him, she thought of Gabrielle and almost willed herself to stop; but he pressed into her urgently, his breath thick with need, and she knew she couldn't do this to him anymore -- even if she could do it to herself. She wanted it to be quick, but he grabbed her hips to slow her down, and then another wave of heat overtook her and she thought of nothing else.

When it was over, she kissed him and laid her head on his chest; but, instead of contentment, the dismal emptiness of the last few days began seeping into her again. Ares pulled her up and stroked her face, sweeping back her hair, and she knew that his tenderness was the hardest thing for her to bear right now. She jerked her shoulder, and he let her slip out of his arms and turn away. A few moments later, he kissed her neck, and then the warmth of him next to her was gone and she heard him clamber up on the upper bunk. She stretched and turned on her back, torn between guilt and relief.

Once they had reached Lemnos, with no trouble from the pirates, things got better. Xena was on the job now. The pain of losing Gabrielle was still there, a constant presence, or rather an absence always felt like a lost limb; but shutting out pain when she focused on the task at hand was nothing new. And her bond of comradeship with Ares was tangible again, even if the ghost of her loss still hovered between them like a patch of chilly fog.

The pirate band, rumored to be anywhere from twenty to a hundred strong, had long eluded capture, spending a lot of time on the open seas and then hiding out in different places on the island's rocky shore. A few times, the government of Lemnos had sent out as bait a merchant ship that carried an undercover fighting force disguised as merchants or slaves; but, by some unerring instinct, the pirates always stayed away. Xena wanted to infiltrate the band, and got the local authorities to agree to a risky scheme: she would go to the pirates with a tip about an incoming merchant vessel laden with goods, and the Lemnians would send a messenger ahead to warn the ship's crew to offer no resistance.

Wearing borrowed leathers, not quite as eye-catching as their regular clothes and more fitting for the role of down-and-out warriors trying their luck on the wrong side of the law, Xena and Ares went over to the rocks and caves on the shore in the hope of bumping into the pirates. It wasn't long before they found themselves staring at the sharp points of half a dozen swords. The chief, Nikia, a tall redhead whose strong angular features were marred by a badly healed broken nose, listened dourly to their story and made it clear that she suspected a trap. Finally, she said she would go after the ship -- on one condition: the two new arrivals would stay behind, chained, closely guarded, and ready to be killed on the spot if the band ran into trouble or didn't return by noon the next day. Xena coolly agreed, signaling Ares with her eyes to play along, and they let themselves be disarmed, manacled, and chained to the wall of a dank cave, with nothing to do except watch their guards play dice.

"Why do I let you drag me into this stuff?" Ares grumbled, only half-joking as he tried in vain to get comfortably seated, and Xena felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Because," she said softly. Their eyes met for a moment, and then he flashed her his wicked little grin.

"Oh yeah," he said. "That's right."

The chain was just long enough for her to move over and kiss him, and they barely heard the hooting, clapping and lewd suggestions from the guards.

The hunting party came back at dawn with the loot, and Xena and Ares were freed and given their weapons back. "You can stay," Nikia said, then added, "Finders' fee," and threw each of them a small but hefty pouch of gold coins.

"You know we're giving those back, right?" Xena said when she was alone with Ares in the nook in the pirate caves where they were told to set up their sleeping quarters. He gave her a look of innocence that twinkled into a smirk -- "Riiiiight..." -- and then she came up, grabbed his ear and said, "Hand it over."

He yelped and told her to stop it; "Come on," she purred gleefully, pulling harder, and he finally reached into his pocket for the pouch. Someone snickered behind her, and they turned to see a stocky henchman of Nikia's who had come over to bring them sleeping mats and blankets. The pirate shook his head and guffawed louder: "Girlfriend keeps you on a pretty short leash, huh, soldier?" Xena saw Ares scowl and ball his fists; she put a warning hand on his arm, and after a moment he broke into a smile and said conversationally, "Trust me, you don't want to get her pissed off."

That evening, as they sat by the fire with the pirates, eating roasted meat and drinking wine seized from the merchant ship, Xena glanced sideways at Ares, and it occurred to her that he wouldn't have had any qualms about joining the pirates for real -- if she had been game for it. The idle thought floated through her head that he would have made a very dashing pirate; in the next moment, shock at entertaining such an idea even in jest made her shudder inwardly, as if she'd burned her fingers. Was Ares thinking about it too? From now on, she would walk her path with a companion who cared nothing about the greater good. But he cared about her, she reminded herself; he cared about her, and he would fight with her for as long as she would have him. And she would never be tempted to go back to her old ways ... would she? Xena looked up at Nikia as the pirate chief sliced off a piece of lamb's shank, juice dripping from the blade of her dagger, firelight glowing on her tanned face and sparkling in the rings on her fingers. She didn't want this kind of life anymore. She thought of what Gabrielle had told her when they said good-bye: She would be all right. Maybe someday, she'd be able to trust herself, too.

Later that night, she and Ares made love in their corner of the caves, trying to make as little noise as they could, muffling each other's cries with kisses. Afterwards, the thought of Gabrielle came back to yank her out of the warm cloud of drowsiness; and still, she was almost happy. They were silent for a while, until he said, "So you keep me on a short leash, do you?" Xena chuckled into his chest and murmured, "Somebody has to." He laughed softly ?- "I didn't know you were into that kind of thing" -- and kissed the top of her head; this time, when sleep's heaviness crept up on her, she let it fill her and take her away.

They stayed with the pirates for a few more days, during which Xena learned that the band had been able to steer clear of earlier decoys by placing spies as passengers on ships departing the Lemnian port. Once she and Ares were trusted enough to have the run of the place, the next part of her plan wasn't that hard: setting fire to the pirate ship, not only to destroy the vessel and start a panic but also to reveal their location to the Lemnian militia waiting for a signal to attack.

From the overhead cliffs, Xena and Ares watched as the pirates ran out of the caves and scurried about, shouting in vain for the sentries who had been knocked out, bound and gagged; their torches, fiery points surrounded by quivering misty haloes, added to the deep ruddy glow from the blazing ship. A few large rocks pushed down the cliffside to block their way toward the ship added to the chaos. Nikia looked up, her wild hair gleaming copper in the eerie light; either she managed to see Xena and Ares or she figured everything out without seeing them, but she shook her sword in their direction and let loose a string of curses, calling them traitors and dogs. She yelled something to her crew, and three men started climbing up the rocks; Xena's chakram took down one of them and made the other two falter. Moments later, hoofbeats clanking on stone heralded the militia's arrival.

"Let's go," Xena said and slid down the rock before flipping to the ground. She turned to see Ares jump after her and wince as he landed awkwardly; she was about to ask if he was all right but one of the pirates was already charging at her, his face crimson from rage and from the fires' reflections. Xena recognized him as the one who had taunted Ares about her keeping him on a short leash. As he swung his sword and sputtered, "Bitch!", she heard Ares shout behind her, "I told you, you don't want to get her pissed off!"

Soon enough the man was on the ground bellowing and clutching at his wounded hip, leaving Xena and Ares free to move on to their next opponents; she noticed that Ares was limping a little and started to tell him to be careful, but he gave her a hard challenging look and she knew that she had to let him take care of himself.

The battle was a short one; most of the pirates were already wounded or dead or throwing down their weapons by the time Xena confronted Nikia. The pirate chief had a dark bleeding cut on her cheek and another jagged one on her arm, and her voice was hoarse but strangely calm as she said, "You're Xena" -- having obviously heard militia members call out the name. Nikia raised her sword abruptly; Xena blocked it, and found herself face to face with the pirate, staring into her dark green orange-flecked eyes.

"Shall we give them a good show?" Nikia said, her face twitching in either a sneer or a grimace of pain, obviously determined to go down as a good loser. Xena had to remind herself that she was doing the right thing -- that this woman and her band had not only looted but killed and sold captives into slavery. Their swords clashed again; even without looking back, Xena knew that the rest of the battle had stilled and everyone was watching them.

Nikia fought well -- well enough to get in a kick that sent Xena sprawling with barely enough time to parry her blade, but not enough to last much longer after that. A few more moves left her disarmed and backed up against a wall of rock with Xena's sword at her chest. "Come on," Xena said, every gulp of air hurting her throat. "Give up -- they'll spare your life."

Nikia stared at her, fear and scorn struggling in her bloodied face as short gasps rushed from her lips; then her right hand went for the dagger at her belt and darted out, in a thrust intended less to kill than to invite a death blow. The flat of Xena's sword slammed down on her wrist; the woman's cry drowned out the thud of metal on flesh and bone, and the clatter of the dagger on the rocky ground. Nikia crumpled to her knees. As two Lemnian officers came up to take her, Xena turned and walked off, sheathing her sword; but there was no turning away from the sound of Nikia's choked groan as they bound her hands.

"That was good," Ares said, squeezing Xena's shoulder. There was an odd lack of enthusiasm in his voice, but she wasn't going to dwell on his moods.

She showed the militia where the pirates' loot was; the goods were still being loaded into bags when she and Ares headed toward their horses. When they were getting in the saddle, he said suddenly, "She wanted you to kill her, you know."

"We can't all have what we want," Xena snapped, ramming her boots into her horse's sides with a hardness that made her wince in the next instant. She was hoping he'd drop the subject; but as they trotted off, their way illuminated by a swaying circle of yellowish light from the lantern in Xena's hand, Ares pressed on.

"You think you did her a favor? Letting her live like a caged animal instead of dying like a warrior?"

Xena glanced back; the burning ship still reddened the night sky, and she could see the captive pirates being herded together for the march back to town, but it was too far now to see which one of them was Nikia, and the voices on the beach were fading away and mingling with the whooshing breath of the sea. Xena sighed and lifted her lantern, peering ahead to make sure they stayed on the path.

"She'll have a chance to turn her life around," she said reluctantly, and heard Ares chuckle in response.

"You really think everyone should buy into this atonement thing," he said. Xena pressed her lips tight and urged on her mount, irritation and vague alarm starting to churn inside her. She wished Gabrielle had been there.

They didn't speak again on the way back to town; but after they got to the inn and dismounted at the stables, Ares caught her hand and held it, and there was no mockery or doubt in his eyes as he said, "We make a good team, huh?"

She let him draw his arms around her and leaned against his warm chest, closing her eyes, listening to the rustle of hay, the soft snorting of the horses, the flapping of tails on sleek hides. "Yeah," she said, her fingers winding around his. "Yeah."

They had four days to wait for their ship. On the second day, Xena was busy mending another rip in her boot when Ares came up to her and said, "Let me have that."

She looked up in amusement. "You mend boots?"

"Watch me," he said. She handed him the boot; he examined it skeptically, then drew his dagger and began methodically slashing at the leather. Xena was so stunned that by the time she jumped up, grabbed his wrist and shouted, "Have you lost your mind?", the boot was quite beyond salvage. He dropped it to the floor, looking with satisfaction at the crumpled heap of his handiwork, and then turned to her, grinning brazenly.

"There's a cobbler's shop around the corner," he said. "We're getting you a new pair of boots." She wanted to hit him or kiss him or both; in the end she shook her head, gave him a look of mock exasperation and said, "Let's go." He glanced at her feet and asked if she was going barefoot, and she told him that if he tried to carry her, he'd pay for that and for cutting up her boot.

At the shop, Ares slouched by the wall and watched as the cobbler, a wizened little man with a wispy gray beard, measured her feet. When the old man was done and asked Xena what kind of leather she wanted, Ares spoke up before she could, and told him to use the best. The cobbler pointed out rather timidly that the tab would come to ten dinars; "Eleven if you get them done by tomorrow morning," Ares parried, ignoring Xena's furious tug at his vest. The old man looked caught between excitement and doubt; Ares reached into his pocket and showed him the money, which led to a burst of wheedling thanks and assurances that the job would be done.

"Wait a minute," Xena cut in. "I am not paying eleven dinars for a pair of boots."

"That's right," Ares said smugly, "you're not." Before she could say another word, he added, "Paid in advance," and threw the gold to the cobbler who pocketed his fee with a speed that belied his frail appearance. She wasn't going to pry a handful of coins from an old man, and there was nothing left to do but go back to the inn.

Out in the street, she whipped around on Ares and demanded to know where he got the money; her heart took a steep dive at the sight of his mischievous smirk. "You -- you took it from the pirates," she whispered.

"They're not gonna miss it, are they?" he retorted, but her dismayed look wiped the sly satisfaction off his face. "Oh, come on, Xena" -- he rolled his eyes -- "you think it's better if the king and his moron councilors collect all the loot?"

"It's supposed to go back to its rightful owners," she said through clenched teeth, turning away.

"Yeah, supposed to -- if they ever track them down," he snorted, following her as she strode toward the inn, her bare feet kicking up billows of hot pale dust. "Do you know how much they would have had to pay anyone else to take care of their little pirate problem?"

"I'm not anyone else," she shot back, the blood pounding in her ears. She was already inside the inn when she realized that Ares wasn't behind her.

For the next hour or so, Xena lay flat on the bed trying not to think. Then he came back and told her to come with him.

"What else do you want to buy me with stolen money?" she asked bitterly.

"Dammit," he said, "just come with me," and she sat up with a sigh and put on sandals and a cloak. Their destination turned out to be a street corner in the shade of bright-leafed poplars where two Hestian sisters in white robes sat at a table collecting donations for the town orphanage. Speechless, Xena watched Ares empty a pouch of gold coins, at least fifty dinars, into their bowl. As the two women stammered their thanks, Ares pondered something for a moment, then reached into his pocket again, pulled out a pendant -- a cluster of pearls on a silver chain ?- and tossed it in as well. Xena wasn't sure whether she was more moved or appalled; but when his other hand lightly squeezed hers, she squeezed back. They had already started to walk away when Ares turned back, leaned on the table and said casually, "Hey, if Aunt Hestia pops by, tell the old girl Ares said hello." The sisters already looked too stupefied for their plump dimpled faces to register any additional shock.

On the way back, he said dreamily, "That thing would have looked good on you." She sighed -- "Ares, did you really think I was going to wear jewelry from pirate loot?" -- and then stopped and turned to him; the anxiety in his eyes made the rest of her anger ebb. "I'm proud of you," she said, even though she wasn't sure that she should be. They kissed, and then walked the rest of the way in silence, his arm around her waist. When they were back at the inn, he came up behind her and asked quietly, his hands on her shoulders, "You'll wear the boots, right?" She chuckled and elbowed him lightly in the side. "I'll wear the boots."

He had one more surprise for her during their stay in Lemnos. The next day, he disappeared for a few hours, and when he returned with Xena's brand-new boots, he rummaged about in his pocket, held out his hand and opened it to reveal a sparkling ruby on a chain.

"It's not from the pirates' loot," he said quickly, before Xena had time to be horrified.

She narrowed her eyes at him: "Then where's it from?"

"Trust me," he said, "this one's rightfully mine." Then she guessed it; her eyes dropped to his gauntlets, and she grabbed his wrists and turned them and saw the empty spot where the stone used to be. This time she wanted to kiss him or cry or both, and part of her still wanted to hit him for making her feel like this. "Just because you've got principles doesn't mean you shouldn't have a pendant," he said smoothly, fastening the chain around her neck. "There."

"Don't do it again," she said and leaned forward to give him a short tender kiss. She didn't have the heart to ask how he had paid for the chain and the setting.

When they returned to Maroneia, a letter from Gabrielle was waiting for Xena at the inn. It was the kind of letter she might have written if she had left for a brief visit. She described her journey, and passing through a village where someone recognized her and she suddenly had to tell tales of her adventures to a large eager audience; she wrote about coming back to Potadeia and staying with her sister and niece, making friends with Lila and Sarah's new calf, helping them fix the house -- all very ordinary, except for what was left unsaid. At the end, there was an "I hope you're well," and then a small blot of ink where Gabrielle's quill had paused, and some scratched-out letters that might have been the start of an "I love you."

Alone in the room, Xena read the letter again from the beginning, and then started again at the middle, and skipped to the end again. "I should've read more of your scrolls," she whispered, belatedly realizing that she had said it aloud. It had taken her five years after they'd started traveling together -- five years before she finally read one. One. So she had never been much of a reader; but hadn't she owed Gabrielle that much? Selfish -- selfish. The tears she'd been holding back finally got the better of her, and a droplet fell and smudged a couple of letters. She ran her hand over the scroll, the papyrus dry and brittle under her palm, and then rolled it up slowly and put it away.

Ares didn't ask about the letter when he returned with cold cuts and bread for their supper, and she didn't tell him anything. After a quick silent meal, she undressed and got into bed, lying on her side with her face to the wall. He climbed in next to her; there was hardly more than a finger's width of space between them, and she could feel the warmth of him on her skin, hear his breathing, until he sighed loudly and tossed about for a bit, jostling her with his shoulder and elbows, and finally turned his back to her. Xena closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the cold, scratchy, dusty wall, and thought of Gabrielle.

When she woke up at dawn, she felt warm and comfortable and good; then she realized that somehow she'd snuggled up to Ares during the night and settled into his embrace, and she didn't know anymore if she felt comfortable or trapped. After a few moments she tried to wriggle free, only to hear him sigh and feel his arms tighten around her; before she could let herself go all sappy at his wanting to hold on to her, she clenched her jaw and freed herself with a jerk. Ares stirred and mumbled some sleepy vexed question, his eyelashes fluttering half-open; "I have to go out," she said sharply, and didn't look back at him as she pulled on her tunic and walked out of the room.

She went down to the outhouse and then over to the stable, the damp straw on the ground prickling at her feet. As she patted Argo's sleek golden head, and Argo nuzzled her shoulder in response, it struck Xena that this was where she had last seen Gabrielle; these wooden stalls, these rough-hewn beams had witnessed their good-bye. Argo flicked an ear and gave her a reproachful look. The quiet of the stable, with its familiar munching of horses and the crisp rustle of hay and straw, had suddenly grown oppressive, as if everything here were waiting for something -- for someone. Waiting for Gabrielle to come back, only she never would.

Back in the room, she told Ares to get up and get dressed. "Come back to bed first," he said, but she looked the other way and started to put on her boots -- the boots he had bought her with stolen pirate loot.

"I want to get out of here," she said. Out of this inn, out of this town.

They left Maroneia and turned off the crowded main road, and rode in a dull, heavy silence. By the evening, when they made camp, Xena couldn't bear to be so alone anymore. As she started to spread out her bedroll near the fire, she caught Ares' stare and nodded, silently inviting him to join her. He came up to her, and she felt a twinge of shame at the thought that she'd been giving him the cold shoulder all day through no fault of his. "I'm sorry," she said, squeezing his hand, and heard him sigh in response. When they got into the bedroll she reached for him, silencing him with a kiss when he tried to speak, stroking him until he was ready and then moving on top of him. Then it was done, and the brief aftermath of pleasure drained from her body; and she was still alone with her grief.

She was sharpening her sword the next morning when a blade clanged sharply against hers; caught by surprise, she jerked her hand and dropped the whetstone in the grass, and nearly let go of the sword. She looked up to see Ares standing over her, sword in hand, a strange hard look on his face.

"It's sharp enough," he said. "Now do something with it."

She gave him a questioning frown. "Come on," he said, jabbing the tip of his sword at her weapon.

"Not in the mood," she muttered, lowering her eyes and picking up the whetstone, but he jabbed again, more forcefully ?- "Well, get in the mood, dammit!"

"Leave me alone," she snapped, only to have him knock the sword from her hand and taunt, "Are you going to let me beat you?" Really pissed off now, she grabbed the sword and jumped up and parried his next blow, and in a moment they were dancing their elaborate weave of steps and jumps and spins around the black patch of the campfire's remnants. As they fought, some invisible fog seemed to lift, and suddenly Xena was aware of the smell of fresh grass, and the babble of birds in the trees, and the happy gurgle of the nearby brook and metal swishing through the air, and the sting in her upper arm where Ares' blade had nicked the skin, and the sweat sliding down her face and neck, and the wispy bits of clouds in the gleaming sky.

They fought hard, and somewhere along the way her anger turned to elation. Ares kicked her sword away, and she charged him before he could have her at the point of his blade, taking them both down, turning his wrist to make him drop his weapon before he could recover from the surprise. Then they wrestled in the cool dew-silvered grass, and she felt a surge of desire far sweeter than their coupling the night before, a desire so wonderful that it didn't even matter if it was satisfied or not; and, knowing that he felt it too, she laughed as she dodged his attempt to pin her to the ground.

All was well for a few days after that, until Ares woke up one night and heard a strange, low sound, and realized that it was Xena; lying on her stomach next to him, she was weeping in quiet choked sobs that would have racked her whole body if she'd given them free rein. A hollow, chilly ache grew in his heart. He wanted to turn her around, hug her, let her head shake under his hand and her tears soak into his chest; but something stopped him. Maybe it was the knowledge that in her place, he would not have wanted her to see him like this; or the thought that he couldn't very well comfort her over a loss that she no doubt blamed on him.

She had too much passion for living to let herself drown in sadness for long; eventually, something inside her rebelled and pushed her to come up for air. It helped that there was always work to do -- bandits or thieves or slavers to be dealt with, a burgeoning civil feud to be stopped in one town, an unjust execution in another -- and that a good fight was always just around the corner. It helped that there were rivers and lakes rich in fish, and valleys where one could ride at a gallop and feel the wind's rough caress on one's face. It helped that most of the time they took a greedy tender joy in each other's bodies, and that they loved each other.

But still the sadness was there. Occasionally, Xena would wander off into the woods on her own, ostensibly to hunt or lay traps. Once, she was gone so long that Ares followed her. He found her sitting in a small murky patch of sun-dappled clearing, hands folded in her lap, tears running down her face. She didn't see him approach behind the cover of trees, and he retreated as quietly as he could. When she returned to camp with a dead partridge, its head dangling pitifully from the twisted neck, she looked calm and composed; he ventured an uncertain, "Everything all right?" and she curtly replied, "Fine."

There was a day when he thought he was going to lose her.

It had started out well enough, when they arrived in the nick of time to save a village from being torched by some thugs who were extorting money from the peasants. Ares nearly got himself killed charging three of the hoodlums and getting ambushed by a fourth, and then again pulling an unconscious woman out of a burning house. When it was over, Xena tended to the bleeding cut on his chest and the burn on his arm, and asked, in a teasing tone that didn't quite cover her concern, if he was trying to prove something. "Like what?" he asked, wincing as she put a stinging herbal balm on his burn. "Ooh ... that you're mortal," she said lightly. "I already know." He chuckled with her, and reached for a kiss when she was finished with the poultice; but they were interrupted by peasants eager to thank and to gape at their saviors.

Talking over each other, several villagers explained that the thugs worked for a group of women who had taken over an abandoned temple of Hera nearby, claiming that their prayers had resurrected the great goddess and demanding tribute for her worship. Xena shook her head and promised to do something about it (meanwhile, Ares had to stifle a laugh at the thought of the Twilight of the Gods being fodder for yet another human scam). One of the village elders, a portly graying woman of about fifty, invited them to stay for dinner, and then asked Xena, "You remember the time you were here some thirty summers ago, don't you?"

She didn't. The woman launched into her story, and the moment Ares heard the first words of it he knew this was going to be bad. "This warlord, what was his name again? -- oh yes, Kirillus -- he had an army all set to take our village; I remember it very well, you see -- my father was our chief elder then. Well, then you took his army from him and brought it here -- there was this man that you thought was your father, and -- "

Xena cut her off with a grim "I remember," and added that they had to leave right now and wouldn't be staying for dinner; some fresh water from the well would be enough. Clucking her tongue in regret, the elder sent a couple of boys to fetch the water and begged Xena at least to accept some bread and wine for the road. While they waited, she turned to the crowd and continued her tale. "She thought, you see, that our people had beaten her father to death, and she was mad enough that she could have destroyed the whole village with that army -- only her friend stood up to her, a mere slip of a girl she was, and made her come back to her senses. And what do you know, it turned out the man wasn't her father at all; it was Ares, God of War, who had taken her father's likeness to trick her into leading an army for him. He was furious, too, when she refused -- nearly killed her, he did, before our very eyes."

The villagers murmured and gasped, and a teenage girl asked what the God of War had looked like. The elder began an enthusiastic description, then paused to look at Ares -- who couldn't decide if it was worse to direct his eyes at Xena or at the villagers, or down, or up at the sky -- and said, "Come to think of it, now, he looked a bit like Xena's friend over here, only young, and much taller and more handsome of course -- no offense, sir -- after all, he was a god ..." Rescue came in the form of a boy who handed him a dipper full of cold water, and Ares was immensely grateful, both for the water and for something to hide behind. He tried to convince himself that the dread jabbing at his chest was just from the blow to his ego; of course it hurt to think that he had changed so much. Bad as it was, it was better than wondering what was going through Xena's mind.

As they rode away from the village, the memories came back to him. He had been furious with Xena then, and even more furious with himself because he, the God of War, couldn't bring himself to kill a defiant warrior who had dared him to do it. Maybe that was when she had first messed with his mind, and begun his undoing. He also found himself thinking about Kirillus, his devoted follower whom he had so casually set up as a decoy for Xena -- wondering if the man had died from his wounds, or had been left crippled, after she'd beaten him. With a faint, distant surprise, Ares realized that it had been a while since he'd had one of those fits of remorse; maybe because his godhood was really over now, or because he was too busy worrying about Xena. He wished that he had never done any of it -- or maybe that the accursed village had burned to the ground before they had gotten there.

He didn't expect Xena to talk about it -- but she did, after they had been riding for a while. "You nearly turned me that time, you know," she said, her voice bright with anger.

"What do you want me to say?" He was startled by the hollow weariness in his own voice. "I'm glad it didn't work."

"It didn't work," Xena said slowly, "because she risked her life to stop me. To stop you." Her laugh made him shudder. "And look at us now."

"Yeah," he said bleakly. "Look at us."

By nightfall, it was raining, and they took refuge in a small cavern in the steep side of a ravine. Wrapping himself in the thin blanket, Ares huddled in the cave's dank darkness -- the feeble fire they'd made from a pile of damp branches had yielded only fleeting warmth ?- and wondered what he would do, where he would go if Xena left him. Memories and hopes and fears swirled and tumbled through his head, and somehow, exhausted by this muddle of thoughts, he fell into an anxious jerky sleep.

When he woke up sometime later, the touch of Xena's hand on his arm was the only thing he was aware of at first; then came the smarting of the burn on his other arm, and a blurry, stinging knowledge that something was terribly wrong. Then he remembered, and thought that perhaps he was still asleep and dreaming, because Xena was lying next to him.

"What ?- what are you doing?" he muttered, not daring to touch her yet.

"I was wrong," she said flatly. "You've changed and I was holding the past against you. It's ... it goes against everything I believe."

Somehow it irked him that she would drag her principles into this, and he said almost brutally, "You think I've changed? You think I care about your damn peasants? You know why I'm doing this."

"That's good enough," she said, her palm resting on his cheek now. "You are what you do. You're doing good, Ares. You're doing good." He could see her eyes glitter in the dark as she added, her voice dropping, "It just hurts to remember these things -- because..." Her voice broke off. He caught her wrist and kissed her hand, a lump of emotions he couldn't name rising to his throat.

She crawled under his blanket, and they held each other; the rain had stopped, but rainwater was still trickling down the tangled tree roots over the cavern's entrance. They lay like that for a while, and then she sighed into his chest and said quietly, "I miss Gabrielle..." He knew, dimly, disbelievingly, that what had just happened between them was more intimate than being inside her. He held her closer. "I know," he said.

They didn't talk about it again.

The next day, they got off to an early start; there was still the matter of the scam artists who operated out of Hera's temple. They took care of the problem and moved on -- to other places, other villages, other gangs to be routed. And so it went; they traveled together and spent evenings by the campfire, and slept together, and hunted and fished and swam, and took refuge in country inns on stormy days.

Ares opened his eyes and closed them again. Outside, the rain and the wind still whipped at the walls and the shuttered windows; the candle had burned out, and the shutters hardly let in any light. The musty odor of the bedding reached his nostrils; but it didn't matter, because Xena lay sprawled on top of him, limp and sweaty and warm, her hair slightly damp from the rain, smelling of freshness and herbs. The sexual excitement he felt now was a low-simmering glow, more a pleasure in itself than a need for pleasure or release. He remembered how they had ridden to the inn, racing against the storm, and smiled to himself.

This was the life he had wanted. Well, not quite; despite moments like these, he knew that that Xena was never quite happy, and never quite his -- perhaps less so than when Gabrielle had been with them. If this was the most he could have, he would make the best of it. It still felt like a miracle to have her asleep in his arms.

Xandra, when I'm with you, this emptiness that I have felt my entire life -- it's gone.

Gabrielle paused and re-read the line. Her chest suddenly felt tight, and she knew she needed a few moments to compose herself before she could go on. Taking a deep breath, she put her quill back in the inkwell. She wondered yet again if she should have chosen another name for the heroine of her play. Tyra... Kara...

The parchment was golden in the lamplight, the thin dark shadow of the quill stretching across the top of the scroll. The play was almost completed; she had only to finish the jail cell scene in which Queen Xandra is about to be led to her death, then write the scene in which Corinne goes to the Fates' temple and burns their loom to undo the false destiny created by King Acrisius -- and then the ending in which the heroines meet again in their own, restored, real world.

The idea for the play had come to Gabrielle when she was in Potadeia, about to leave for Athens. The plot had been inspired by re-reading one of her old scrolls -- the one that recorded Xena's account of what happened after they'd foiled a raid on the temple of the Fates. The Fates had offered Xena a chance to start over, erasing her dark violent past, yet she had chosen to restore her old life in order to be reunited with Gabrielle and to spare her the lot of a hate-filled slave. What if, she thought, some enemy of theirs had tampered with the Fates' loom so that she and Xena had not met, had not traveled together -- and then, in their new lives, their paths did cross and they were drawn to each other all over again? Briefly, she had considered giving the bad-guy role to the God of War (it seemed logical enough for a god to be the one to alter Fate), but then realized that, after everything they'd been through, she didn't have the stomach for it. So she based her villain on Caesar: King Acrisius, who had once betrayed and tried to kill the great warrior Xandra, and was ultimately ruined by her vengeance. In the play, Acrisius managed to take the Fates captive and re-weave the thread of his destiny to have Xandra as his ally and his wife. And it worked, until the poet Corinne, Xandra's friend and companion in their real lives, arrived at the court; then the love in their hearts was rekindled, and the queen risked all to save the young bard from the king's wrath.

Gabrielle picked up the quill again and swept her hair, now grown to shoulder length, away from her face.

Who would have thought that she'd have a play produced in Athens? Yet the theater director had enthusiastically accepted Destiny after reading just the first act, and if everything went as planned it would open in couple of months. Sophisticated Athenian audiences would be watching and judging her work. The prospect was both exciting and intimidating.

CORINNE: I can't let you die.

XANDRA: Some things are worth dying for. Isn't that what your poem was about? Being prepared to sacrifice everything for love?

Gabrielle leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Everything for love... Xena was out there somewhere right now. Xena and Ares were somewhere out there right now.

Was there a chance that Xena would see the play? The thought of it made Gabrielle's face hot. Her hand with the quill shook slightly, leaving an inky scratch on the parchment; she reached over to pick up the cup on the table and take a sip of tepid herbal tea.

SOLDIER: Queen -- it's time.

CORINNE: I'll love you forever.

It had not been easy.

The journey to Potadeia had been the first time in years that Gabrielle had traveled alone. Sometimes in those days and nights on the road, she had imagined talking to Xena -- about where she would camp and what she was going to eat, about the funny shape of a cloud, about what kind of bird was soaring overhead as if etched into the bright sky, about her fancy that birds were really descended from dragons. When some villagers in a tavern recognized her as the Bard of Potadeia and begged for tales of the Warrior Princess, she wasn't sure she'd be able to get to the end of her story -- the one about how she and Xena helped a group of Athenian soldiers fight the Horde -- without tears. But she didn't break down then, only later that night, in her bed at the inn, when the memories came again, demanding to be let in.

When the cluster of Potadeia's neat little houses were already in sight, it struck her that she was about to see her sister, once her dearest friend in the whole world, and that she had hardly thought about it since leaving Maroneia, preoccupied instead with her separation from Xena. It made her feel ashamed. This should have been a homecoming; instead, she still felt as if she had left her real home. Lila's astonished delight at her arrival only deepened Gabrielle's shame.

Having recovered her daughter from captivity in Gurkhan's harem, Lila had also regained much of her vitality and even her youth. She and Sarah were fixing up the house, which didn't look quite so gloomy anymore; Gabrielle helped them out, grateful for the opportunity to keep herself busy. Sarah mostly kept her distance, but this time she and Lila had a chance to talk about the years that had passed since she and Xena had visited Potadeia with baby Eve.

As days went by, Gabrielle's desire to talk to Lila about what had happened between her and Xena grew into an urgent need; if she could only talk to someone about it, she thought, it would be easier to put it behind her. And she should have been able to talk to Lila. They had never had any secrets; for all the differences between them, and the distances, they had always understood each other so well. Lila had never questioned her passion for poetry or her interest in philosophy, or her need to get out of Potadeia, or, eventually, her love for Xena. She needed that now, to be understood wordlessly, not in some grand gesture of love and acceptance but simply as a matter of fact.

She wasn't sure where or how to start; it was Lila herself who brought up the subject. One night, they sat by the fireplace after Sarah had gone to bed, and Lila asked, without lifting her head from her embroidery, if she and Xena had had a quarrel. Gabrielle sighed, awkwardly smoothing the rust-colored skirt she wore around the house -- much like the one she'd worn when she first left home with Xena, only she had trimmed it to knee length -- and said, "It's ... it's complicated." An uneasy silence crept in between them, and Gabrielle berated herself for her cowardice. She forced herself to look up into Lila's kind eyes, bright and warm from the fire's glow. Thoughtfully, Lila said, "It usually is..." She lowered her head again, letting the shadows blanket her face, and went back to embroidering. After a moment she asked, "Want to tell me what happened?"

Then Gabrielle knew, with hollow resignation, that she would never be able to tell. How could she explain that she had given Xena permission to take another lover -- that the three of them had traveled together -- that she had lied and cheated and plotted in a desperate effort to get Xena back, and had finally had to choose between losing Xena and losing herself? For that matter, how could she explain that even before that, she and Xena had hurt each other beyond words, beyond pain, and still stayed together? Could any of it make sense to anyone ... except the two of them, and -- maybe Ares, of all people? She could only say, her voice drained and colorless, "It wasn't a quarrel really... we just kind of -- drifted apart."

Lila came up and knelt in front of her and hugged her, and Gabrielle felt clumsy and stiff as she wrapped her arms around her sister. "I'm so sorry..." Lila said gently, and Gabrielle held her closer and laid her head on her shoulder. "I'm all right," she said. "I'll be all right." "Yeah, you will" -- Lila stroked her hair, then drew back and touched Gabrielle's face and added quietly, "I love you, Gabby." Gabrielle's eyes were watering; as she murmured, "I love you too" and kissed Lila's cool cheek, she felt another twinge of shame at the thought that she had shut Lila out, that the special bond between them would never be restored.

Gabrielle stayed in Potadeia for another ten days or so, long enough to discover that she was now a hometown legend. Then she moved on to Athens, as she had planned, and found that her fame had preceded her there, too. She was invited to teach at the Academy of Bards. She had admiring students; she met scholars and philosophers, and successfully pitched her play to one of the city's leading theaters. She renewed her friendship with Virgil, who lived in Athens with his mother and his young brother and sister.

After a long period of neglect, the bard part of the Warrior Bard was flourishing, and it felt wonderful -- sometimes, almost enough to make up for the fact that the person with whom she most wanted to share her success wasn't there.

Of course, there was no leaving behind the warrior part, either. Her students at the Academy wanted to see her in Amazon garb rather than a dress, and sometimes she gave in to their curiosity; some of them also approached her about teaching them her fighting moves. Once, she was on her way home from the theater with several of her students and with Virgil when they found themselves in the midst of a street riot started by supporters of a politician who had been expelled from the assembly on charges of corruption. Before she knew it, she and Virgil were battling the rioters, and she was using a staff she had grabbed from one of the rowdies after downing him with a single kick; they were able to stop the mob from looting a shop before the militia arrived to restore order. When the fighting was over, she received an enthusiastic round of applause from her awed students, and her exploits were the talk of her class at their next meeting at the Academy.

For all the praise, the incident left her with a vague queasy aftertaste. Partly, perhaps, it was the knowledge that she had used her combat skills against people who were not trained fighters -- and who, for all she knew, might have had legitimate grievances, even if they'd chosen a bad way to express them. Partly, it was the realization that having combat skills entailed consequences she couldn't escape: Whether she liked it or not, whether she was with Xena or not, there were times when she would have to either fight or stand by and watch innocent people get hurt.

This stark truth was brought home to her again two months later. A letter from Lila arrived, telling her that Potadeia was involved in a dispute with a neighboring town over a piece of choice grazing land; the conflict threatened to turn violent, and the townsfolk wanted her help. By the time she returned, the rival town, Olynthus, had allied itself with a small-time warlord named Tryphonius and instigated two raids on Potadeia's shepherds and cattle herders; Potadeia's elders were mobilizing a fighting force, and expecting her to lead it. She suggested negotiating an agreement by which both towns would have access to the disputed land; the town council of Olynthus, sure of its victory, refused. Finally, she agreed to take Potadeia's none too confident band of defenders out into the field to meet Tryphonius and his army; and she couldn't deny that she was pleased when, at the mention of her name, an alarmed buzz ran audibly through the warlord's ranks.

"Stay out of this, Tryphonius," she said coolly as their horses stood side by side so that she and the warlord faced each other, an arm's length apart. "Let the town councils settle the dispute; it isn't any of your business." "Well, well," the man sneered, shaking a shaggy mane of graying blond hair, "I expected the Battling Bard of Potadeia to look a little more impressive. Maybe they should've -- " Before he could finish, her arm shot out and she landed a hard punch in his chest, knocking the man out of the saddle; by the time he had scrambled to his feet, cursing loudly, she had already dismounted, and a couple of swift kicks took him down again even before he had time to draw his sword. The mutterings among his men swelled to a wave, but the cheers that erupted among the Potadeians rose even higher.

Tryphonius and his army retreated; Olynthus agreed to negotiate the next day, and when Gabrielle went back to Athens she was even more of a local legend.

And all the while there was a hollow space inside her, an empty core that was Xena's absence. There were times when she hardly felt it, and times when it turned to a cold hard lump -- and still other times when it was a tight knot of pain: when people talked to her about Xena; when she re-read one of her scrolls about their adventures; when she woke up after dreaming of Xena; when Sappho's poem forced itself into her mind; when a letter from Xena arrived, which happened twice. They were short, terse, just-the-facts letters, one informing her that the job on Lemnos was done and that she and Ares were back and headed inland, and the other, three months later, giving a brief account of her recent travels. Gabrielle wrote to Xena as well, sending her letters to Xena's usual mail drops, never knowing when they would be picked up; only they were never the letters she composed in her head.

Occasionally she wondered, with an odd detachment, if she would ever find love again. Virgil spent many evenings at the small cozy house where she now lived. She enjoyed his company, and the memory of the kiss they had shared at the library in Megara was both troubling and sweet. He was warm and affectionate with her, but there was something peculiar in his manner, as if he were waiting for something -- perhaps for some kind of signal from her. Then, one evening, she offered to read to him the first two acts of her play. After she put aside the last of the scrolls, her eyes met Virgil's. He gazed at her thoughtfully, then looked down for a moment. When he raised his head again, something in his face was different; he wasn't waiting anymore. He smiled and said, "It's beautiful, Gabrielle."

About a month later, she saw him at a book vendor's with a slender dark-haired woman, his arm around her waist. Gabrielle turned away for a moment, her lips tightening; the ache that jabbed at her heart was made worse by the knowledge that it was an ache she had no right to feel. When she looked at Virgil again, he waved at her, a wide, friendly, open smile lighting up his face. He introduced her to his companion, Lais. They chatted, and she smiled, and invited Virgil to bring Lais the next time he came to her house. It still hurt a little.

Then she came home and sat down to work on her play, and forgot all about it.

Gabrielle glanced at the window and realized with a faint shock that a gray pallor was already starting to spread across the black sky. She had to get a few hours of sleep; she had a class to teach at the academy, and she had reluctantly promised three of her women students to teach them to fight with the staff. But she was almost finished; all the remained was the last scene, and she had already played it out so many times in her mind.

XANDRA: You brought the world back to us.

CORINNE: I'm glad. I like this one better.

XANDRA: Even though you're not a famous poet?

CORINNE: Fame -- who needs it?

"So is it your message that you can't change fate?" said a big long-faced woman with blonde hair arranged in a heap of ringlets. "Or that you shouldn't change fate?"

"Uh ... you shouldn't."

Gabrielle stood with her back to the wall in the theater portico, where the banquet to celebrate the premiere of Destiny was in full swing. Dozens of people came up to compliment her and ask questions. Was Xandra her famous friend Xena? Was it true that she herself had met the Fates? Could you really alter destiny by tampering with your life thread? (The question left her stumped; all she could say was, "I don't recommend trying it.") Were Xandra and Corinne just friends or lovers? ("They are two women who love each other very deeply," she replied.) She hoped her answers made sense, because she only half-heard some of the questions, distracted and almost dazed. Writing those lines had been one thing; hearing them spoken onstage was another, even if the actresses didn't look anything like herself and Xena.

Twirling a goblet of wine in her slightly moist hands, Gabrielle looked around, trying to see over the heads of the people around her. She spotted some of her students milling about, and Virgil and Lais, who had come up to congratulate her before. She saw a tall woman with jet-black hair hanging loose about her shoulders; her heart fluttered wildly, and then the woman turned and Gabrielle saw a round, plain face, a stranger's face. Only then did she realize that she was looking for Xena in the crowd. Her legs felt weak, and she leaned against the wall and took a sip of wine.

Of course Xena wasn't there. After debating it with herself for a while, she had written to Xena to let her know about the play; but Gabrielle couldn't even be sure that she had gotten the message in time.

".... the whole world just to save her beloved friend."

She looked up with a start, to find herself facing a slight young man with a dreamy look on his face.

"I'm sorry -- what did you say?"

"Your heroine risks destroying the whole world just to save her beloved friend," the young man repeated. "It's so -- inspiring."

Was that really what she was saying in her play? Gabrielle smiled and muttered "Thank you," but suddenly she felt uneasy. There was no wine left in her goblet, and she motioned to an attendant for a refill.

As she fielded more compliments and questions, the crowd was beginning to thin. A fat man with a gray-streaked beard monopolized her attention for a while, talking about a treatise he was composing on the subject of fate; she nodded and made polite remarks. Finally, he thanked her for writing such a thought-provoking play and went away. Gabrielle wondered when it would be all right for her to leave.

"Not bad," said a male voice that made her shiver even before she knew she had recognized it. "Of course, it could've used more fight scenes."

The voices and the clinking of goblets and the pounding of her own blood all merged into a din in Gabrielle's ears. For a moment she saw nothing; a flush of heat made her dress sticky with sweat. Ares stood in front of her, a wry quizzical near-smile on his face. Her mind registered, with distant surprise, the fact that he wore a black linen shirt instead of the silver-studded leather vest. He was alone.

She had forgotten that there was wine in her goblet. She raised it, gripping its sides with both hands, and took a sip. As she put the goblet down on the pedestal of a vase, the metal clanged against stone, her hand still unsteady. At last, she was able to speak.

"Ares. You ... you're here." She took a deep breath and turned her head sharply, her eyes darting about the portico. "Is she -- "

"Excuse me." A possessive hand came down on her forearm, and she flinched and turned to see an elegantly dressed middle-aged couple.

"I must tell you," said the woman, her hand on Gabrielle's arm, "this is simply the best play I have seen in ages."

"Quite so," chimed in the man. "Simply the best."

"You managed to put so much into it -- kings, warriors, poets -- fate, friendship, love... What more could one possibly want?"

She continued, her rising voice more and more unbearable, and Gabrielle put all the willpower she had into nodding, making polite replies and not screaming.

"But how rude of me to go on and on... You must be so exhausted." The woman glanced at Ares, who stood by patiently, amusement at Gabrielle's plight flickering in his eyes, and suddenly inquired, "Are you two -- together?"

Lost for words, Gabrielle looked from her to Ares and back, and then stammered, "Not -- exactly."

"Ah. What a pity -- you two make such a good-looking couple." The woman sighed. "Well, I just wanted to say I adored your play -- a pleasure to meet such a promising young author..."

"Such an interesting ending, too," the man spoke up. "I meant to ask you..."

"Now, now." The woman pulled on his arm. "We've already taken up enough of Gabrielle's time. Let's go, dear."

The couple walked away, and Gabrielle let out a long breath and turned to Ares, who looked almost sheepish for a moment.

"Is she here?"

"Yeah," he said. "She's -- " He motioned vaguely toward the steps of the portico.

Gabrielle struggled for breath. "Why didn't she -- " she started, and then nearly wept at the thought of Xena being there, too scared to approach her. "Come on," she said. "No, wait..."

She picked up her goblet, wandered to a bench and sat down on the cool marble, her knees shaky. Ares sat next to her.

"So," he said. "When are you coming back?"

She was glad she was sitting down for that one.

"What?" she breathed out.

"Yeah. Back. I mean, you've made your point, right?"

Suddenly, Gabrielle felt as if she were stumbling about in the dark. "What point?"

The corner of his mouth twitched up a little. "You know -- that whole business about finding your own path. You went off -- did your bard thing -- wrote a sappy play -- "

"I thought you liked my play," she snapped.

Ares shrugged. "It was okay as sappy plays go."

"My play is not sappy."

"Oh please -- what was that line?" He pursed his lips and recited in a sing-song, "That's what we all dream about -- someone who'll look into our hearts and find something to die for -- "

"Who'll look so deep into our hearts they'll find something worth dying for," she corrected automatically.

"Whatever," he snorted. "That's not sappy?"

She looked at him, and was struck by a thought that made her head whirl for a moment.

"You did it," she said in a hushed voice.

"I did what?"

"You died for her."

He raised his eyebrows a little, then patted his sides and gave a mock sigh of relief. "Whoa. Still here. You had me going for a second."

Gabrielle smiled weakly, running her finger over the rim of the goblet. "You gave up your godhood. And you stayed mortal."

He was silent for a moment, looking away. Finally he said, "That's different. Dying is just a side effect. I don't plan on doing it anytime soon."

She stared into her goblet, and then remembered what he had asked her.

"Don't tell me you want me back," she said.

"Oh, but I do. Let me tell you -- things are getting quite desperate."

Gabrielle looked up, dimly frightened even though she knew that it was probably a setup to a joke. "Desperate -- how?"

"I'm learning to cook."

She chuckled in spite of herself and shook her head as he added, "If you're not coming back, at least scribble down some recipes for me, will ya? Like the one for those dumplings with -- "

"Ares," she said. "I have a good life here."

"So did the chick in your play, didn't she? Corinne? She had a good life -- and she gave it all up to be with her true love ..." He calmly met Gabrielle's gaze, hardly any mockery in his eyes now. "The -- what did you call it? -- the emptiness..." He turned away and added quietly, "Not good, is it?"

Gabrielle gaped at him, the hot flush rising back to her face. Her play and what it meant for her own life... to think that Ares, of all people, would point it out to her...

He was saying something else -- something about -- the farm?

"What?"

"I said, once we leave Athens we're heading to the farm for a few days."

"The farm. You mean -- the farm."

"Yeah."

The farm. Where it all started to fall apart. She fought another rush of dizziness.

"So ..." she said weakly. "How is she?"

He shrugged. "Same old, same old. Kicking ass. Looking for redemption. You wouldn't happen to know where they keep that stuff, do you?"

A vague memory rattled about her mind: Ares telling her, long ago, that maybe it was good for Xena to have someone around who didn't take her guilt and her atonement too seriously. She hoped he had a point.

"Well?" he said, getting up. "Do you want to see her or not?"

People walked by, talking and laughing, as the balmy air began to thicken into dusk. An attendant came by and lit two torches mounted into the columns on both sides of the steps; the light they gave off only made the evening deepen. Before walking away, the man eyed Xena curiously, probably wondering why this woman was standing there alone, her back against one of the columns. Xena glared at him, out of sheer habit.

She felt out of place here, outside this fashionable theater, among these people in elegant clothes. She herself wore a slender red dress with a black sash belt and a scarf, instead of her leathers and armor, and somehow it made her feel even more out of place. It wasn't like her to dress up for the theater; but this was one occasion when she didn't want to stand out in a crowd, let alone take the chance that someone would recognize her.

Finally, she couldn't resist turning to look up the steps. There was still no sign of Ares, or... Xena leaned back against the column. She shouldn't have let him stay behind... She had promised herself, as they left for the theater, that she wasn't going to approach Gabrielle. Gabrielle had her own life here in Athens, the kind of life she deserved, and she had no right to interfere. The best thing she could do for Gabrielle right now was to leave her alone.

Her mind reeled back to the moment when she saw Gabrielle come out onstage after the play was over, to wild applause from the audience. Gabrielle, so graceful in the loose folds of her lavender gown -- her hair grown out and flowing down to her shoulders -- her face, even at that distance, so radiant and full of spirit -- she looked softer and younger, somehow. Xena wasn't sure if she felt more pain or joy at seeing her, and which hurt worse.

And before that, Gabrielle's play... You're my source -- when I reach inside myself for a reason to go on, I find you... She had flinched at hearing two strangers on a stage speak the words of her and Gabrielle's love for each other. Our real fate was to be together -- forever... We didn't make it that way, it just is... It was as if hearing those words spoken by someone else had stripped away a tight bandage, and for a moment, before the agony of the raw wounds hit home, there had been a sense of relief at being freed from confinement.

Now, as she stood alone outside the theater, the unease she had felt before had turned to torture. The most precious thing in her life, and her greatest weakness, had just been exposed to all these people. She would have cared much less if she had been paraded in front of them naked. She was glad she hadn't stayed for the banquet; anyone who had seen her talking to Gabrielle would have surely known that they were "Xandra" and "Corinne." Just thinking about it twisted her insides into a knot of rage -- all those gawking idiots... When the anger had subsided, it occurred to her, with a fresh pang, that perhaps Gabrielle was really over her, over them; that was why she could write about it, could turn their love into a public spectacle -- it was nothing to her now except fodder for a play.

Xena closed her eyes. Well, if Gabrielle was over them, it was really better that way, wasn't it? Wasn't that what she had decided -- that she had to let Gabrielle go, for Gabrielle's sake?

She shouldn't have come here. She hadn't planned to; except that, from the moment she had gotten Gabrielle's message, Ares had acted as if it were a fact that they were going, and for once she had followed him. Even after they'd gotten to Athens, she had thought of not going to the theater. Just the day before, she had walked into a bookshop thinking that maybe she would just buy a copy of the play instead. But they didn't have it, so she had looked for any scroll of Gabrielle's, and bought the only one they had: the story of their first meeting. You've got to take me with you... She had hung around, looking at the scrolls piled on the tables and the shelves, sliding her fingers over their smooth surface, wondering if Gabrielle had been in this shop; finally she'd picked up a scroll by Sappho, a poet that she recalled Gabrielle mentioning. Something about the first lines had made her heart swell; it was as if these words had the power to reach inside her, to speak for her. Who would have ever guessed that she would be in a bookshop -- for the first time, as far as she could recall -- buying a poem. Now, both scrolls lay buried at the bottom of her saddlebag, back at the inn. Maybe some day, she would --

"Xena."

With a start, she opened her eyes. They stood before her, Ares and Gabrielle; Xena noticed mechanically that Gabrielle was leaning on Ares' arm. Her eyes were wide and shocked, her lips parted nervously, and she had never looked so lovely before.

Xena didn't know what she was feeling anymore.

"Gabrielle..."

"Xena..." She let go of Ares' arm. "You -- you look beautiful..."

"I do?" Xena chuckled edgily, glancing down at herself. "It's not really my style." Then she raised her eyes, suddenly fighting the onrush of tears, and the breath caught in her throat for a moment before she said, "You look beautiful."

She desperately wanted to take Gabrielle in her arms, except that she didn't dare to move. Finally Gabrielle took a half-step toward her and lifted her hands a little, awkwardly and uncertainly, as if she had thought about reaching out for a hug but couldn't quite go through with it.

They continued to stare at each other; then Xena shifted her eyes to Ares, whose face was unreadable as he looked back at her.

It was Gabrielle who spoke first.

"Look -- there's a tavern just a short walk from here -- maybe we could go there and ?- " her voice faltered.

"And listen to the sound of your voice all evening?" Ares said rather genially. "Spare me. You two go on -- you've got a lot of catching up to do. I'll be back at the inn." He paused and nodded to Gabrielle. "See you around."

"No, wait -- " Gabrielle started, but he was already on his way. Xena turned her head to watch him as he walked, too tall to disappear quickly into the crowd. Then she turned back to Gabrielle.

"So..."

Gabrielle looked away for a moment, her eyelashes fluttering; her hand jerked up to her face and dropped again.

"Well," she said with a weak, nervous little smile. "Shall we go? They serve great rabbit stew."

As they started to walk, Xena glanced, once again, in Ares' direction. She couldn't see him anymore. She wondered suddenly if he expected her to come back with Gabrielle ... or to not come back at all.

She wanted to talk about something. Something that didn't have to do with them. Then she remembered that the week before, she had received a message from Eve.

"I heard from -- " she began, and stopped because Gabrielle had started to say at the same time, "I got a letter -- "

Gabrielle stopped too, and they walked on in an uncomfortable silence for a moment, until Gabrielle spoke again.

"I got a letter from Cyane," she said. "Eve is in Rome -- "

"Yeah, I know ... freeing the Amazons from the gladiator schools."

"They'll have a celebration when she brings them back," Gabrielle said. "If you want to attend, I could ask Varia..."

Her words sank into the silence between them. The twilight had become a dense grayish-blue veil that wrapped around the houses and the shushing fragrant trees, darkening Gabrielle's dress, making her profile look hazy, dreamlike.

"I heard about your run-in with Tryphonius," Xena said. "You really kicked his ass, huh?"

"How did you hear?"

"Word travels fast... About time somebody put him in his place. You did a good job."

"Thanks..." Gabrielle added quietly, her voice cracking a little, "I had a good teacher."

Xena knew she had to say something about the play; only there was nothing she could say about the way it had made her feel. Even if she had wanted to, she wouldn't know how.

"So you wrote a play," she said.

"Yeah..." After a short pause Gabrielle asked, "What did you think?"

"It -- it was great."

After every time they spoke, the silences grew longer, or maybe it only seemed that way.

"So -- what have you been doing?" Gabrielle asked.

Xena shrugged. "Same as always -- a warlord here -- a cult there... We ran into a gang that had taken over a temple of Hera and was extorting money -- " Even as she spoke, she became aware that she was talking about her and Ares' experience in the village where he had once posed as her father -- where Gabrielle had stopped her from succumbing to vengeance and rage. Whatever had made her talk about that, of all things? She continued quickly, " -- money from villagers, telling them they'd brought Hera back to life and it was her will..."

Gabrielle shook her head. "It's sickening, isn't it... All those people using the old gods as a tool to squeeze a few dinars out of defenseless peasants -- "

"There are always going to be people who want to squeeze a few dinars out of defenseless peasants, Gabrielle. They'll use whatever tools they can get."

For a moment, suddenly, it was as if they were still together, just like in the old days, walking side by side and talking about their adventures, about fighting the bad guys, about Gabrielle's faith in people. It was as if their bond had never been broken, and everything was right with the world -- until, just as quickly, the joy turned to a heavy bitterness because that feeling was a ghost of something she had killed.

"So you're going back to the farm," Gabrielle said quietly.

"Just for a few days -- " Xena glanced at her, taken aback. "Did Ares tell you?"

Gabrielle nodded, and Xena felt a vague, unsettling alarm. Did Ares have some reason for telling Gabrielle? And Gabrielle ... was Gabrielle upset that she would settle down with Ares on some farm when she wouldn't settle down with her among the Amazons? Even now, she could feel the tension in Gabrielle's silence.

"It's only for a few days," she said again.

They walked on, and then Gabrielle said, "There it is," pointing to a squat building with small windows whose walls were a muddy brown in the near-dark, except for two orange spots of torchlight. The low hum of voices inside turned into a babble that rolled over them as Gabrielle pushed the door open. Inside, lights quivered and wisps of smoke floated in the air, and the smell of food made Xena realize that she was hungry. A serving girl came up and directed them toward a table.

Just as they started to sit down, a male voice cried, "Gabrielle?" and Xena flinched a little. Gabrielle's face showed no trace of recognition as a blond man in an elegant tunic and pants of white and gold strode toward them, smiling broadly.

"You're Gabrielle, the Bard of Potadeia -- aren't you? I just came from the theater," he added as Gabrielle gave him a distracted nod. "That was a great play. Hope you write a lot more."

"Thank you," Gabrielle said.

"Well, I just wanted to come up and meet you and tell you how much I enjoyed it." The young man beamed. "It's such an honor -- you know, some day I'll be telling everyone I met you when you had your first big hit..."

"Thank you," Gabrielle said again, squeezing out a smile.

"Thank you!" The young man bowed slightly and walked away. The serving girl was headed toward them, but a plump young woman with frizzy curls cut her off.

"Gabrielle! The playwright!" she cried, every word bubbling with enthusiasm. "It's you, isn't it?"

"Yes -- yes, it's me." Gabrielle squirmed a little.

"I am so, so happy to meet you!" The woman grabbed Gabrielle's hand and shook it vigorously. "Your play -- it's so empowering for young women! You know, I've been thinking of writing a play myself and you'd be the perfect person to give me some advice!"

"Uh ... you can find me at the Academy of Bards," Gabrielle said doubtfully.

"Great!" The young woman finally released Gabrielle's hand. "I'll definitely look you up, then -- you can count on it!"

As she sprinted away, Xena let out a long breath; but the young man in white and gold was already back, hovering over the table with a scroll in his hand. Meanwhile, the serving girl had gone off to wait on someone else.

"Not to bother you again, but may I have your autograph?"

Gabrielle signed the scroll, and then glanced quickly at Xena as he walked off with his prize.

"The price of fame," Xena said wryly.

"I'm sorry..." There was a nervous note in Gabrielle's voice. "My place isn't far from here ?- do you want to go there instead?"

They were just going to talk, that was all.

"Sure," she said.

There was no hot dinner at Gabrielle's place, but there was fruit and cheese and fermented apple cider, and the fire was mellow and golden in the small fireplace. Xena and Gabrielle sat in front of the table on a couch with a softly curved back, keeping their distance. They had talked about everything except the things that mattered.

As Xena twirled the remnants of a bunch of grapes in her hands, it hit her suddenly that she could end up leaving and those things would still remain unsaid -- and then, desperately, she blurted it out.

"Why don't you say it, Gabrielle. I betrayed you."

Gabrielle turned to her with a start, her face tender and bewildered.

"What?"

"I promised you that you would never lose me..."

"I..." Gabrielle blinked, her eyes moist. "I didn't -- "

"And then I drove you away. I took everything from you and -- "

Gabrielle slid over and seized her hands, making her drop the grapes. It was the first time they had really touched, and Xena realized how much she had wanted it and feared it.

"Xena ... don't..." Gabrielle murmured.

"I knew it was killing you inside -- and I let it go on..."

Gabrielle shook her head, her eyelashes wet and heavy. "It wasn't just -- that -- I told you..."

"Wasn't just Ares, you mean?" Xena said savagely. "Yeah, I know. It was all the other things too. The other things that were killing you inside. All the fighting -- all the killing..."

She could see Gabrielle's eyes widen as she spoke, as if every word were a stab. But she had to say it.

"Xena... please -- " Gabrielle's voice was a hollow shell. She sighed and moved one hand away, to wipe the tears rolling down her cheek. Then she asked, "How did we let this happen to us?"

"We? It was me, Gabrielle. Don't make it sound like it was your fault too."

"It was." Gabrielle frowned a little and shook her head. "There were so many things we didn't talk about..."

"I'm no good at talking, you know that."

With a faint smile, Gabrielle put her moist hand on top of Xena's. "I am. There was a time when we could have said anything to each other -- and then we both stopped talking."

"I know I didn't treat you right. I just..." -- she squeezed Gabrielle's fingers -- "I want you to know that I never stopped loving you. And I never would have chosen anyone over you..."

"You just love him, too," Gabrielle said quietly.

"I never should have..." Her voice broke off and she knew she, too, was crying. She should have let him go. It would have hurt terribly -- but still not as much, still not as much ... and it would have been the right thing to do. Only she couldn't...

"It would have still come between us."

They were silent for a moment; with a vague shock, Xena felt the soft touch of Gabrielle's fingers caressing the back of her hand.

"I want you to be happy," Xena said.

"I have a good life here."

"Do you see Virgil?" She wanted to kick herself for asking.

"Yeah. Sometimes." Gabrielle paused. "Not -- not like that." Her head was lowered, her face veiled in shadows, but Xena could hear the blushing in her voice. "Xena -- there's never been anything between Virgil and me..."

Xena felt her cheeks burning as her mind raced back to that night in Megara. What right did she have to even want to know?

Gabrielle raised her head and asked, in a small voice, "Are you happy?"

"I..." What could she say to that? "Sometimes..." Her throat tightened and she couldn't speak for a moment. Then she said, "Gabrielle -- can you ever forgive me?"

"There's no- "

"Don't say there's nothing to forgive. If you say that -- then I can never have your forgiveness. I know I don't deserve it -- but I need..." She choked again on those words.

Gabrielle seemed to consider this for a moment. At last she said simply, gravely, "I forgive you."

Finally, finally they held each other, and Xena's arms were filled with Gabrielle's warmth and her cheek was resting against Gabrielle's soft hair. Gabrielle's back quivered slightly under her palm; they sat still for a while, half-reclining on the back of the couch, and then Gabrielle pulled back a little and lifted up her face, flushed and shiny with crying. The need to kiss her was overwhelming now, and Xena leaned forward and pressed her lips to her cheek just under the eye, tasting the salt of her tears. Gabrielle sighed and pressed closer to her, and in the next moment she was holding Gabrielle's face and kissing her mouth -- gently and almost chastely at first, until Gabrielle sighed again and parted her lips, and their kiss grew deeper, a kiss sweet with wine and fruit and memories. The jolt of desire Xena felt made her break away ?- this was wrong, wrong, she couldn't do this to Gabrielle -- and it was Gabrielle who drew her close again, stroking her hair and her neck.

They kissed once more, her tongue caressing Gabrielle's mouth, a familiar caress that was now new and forbidden. Xena's hands slid down Gabrielle's shoulders, and she barely held back from cupping the swell of her breasts through the thin dress.

"We shouldn't do this," she said, her voice hoarse.

"I know," Gabrielle breathed out.

For a long moment they stared at each other; then, Gabrielle took Xena's hands and guided them to her breasts. It brought back the memory of their first night, and Xena wanted to cry and to beg forgiveness once more -- but Gabrielle was arching against her and making a small soft sound, and then nothing mattered except to see her shudder in pleasure.

As she moved to unbuckle Gabrielle's dress, Xena paused and looked questioningly at her; their eyes met, and Gabrielle nodded almost imperceptibly before her eyelids drooped. Her breasts were tinted gold in the lamplight and the fire's reflections, and Xena dove down to cover them with kisses, pausing to suck each nipple to a hard peak. Gabrielle pulled her up and their mouths locked even more feverishly this time, and when they broke their kiss it was only to gasp for breath and let their lips roam hurriedly over each other's faces, necks, shoulders.

"Xena -- take it off..." Gabrielle whispered. "I want to see -- "

Xena sat up and tore off her sash, then pulled off her dress, ripping it in her impatience, and they embraced again, breasts crushed against breasts. Gabrielle's moans spurred her on; kneeling on the floor, she pushed back Gabrielle's dress and pulled off her undergarment. Gabrielle trembled and cried out, and Xena paused a moment to kiss her inner thighs before taking her with her mouth. Gabrielle squirmed desperately; for a moment it seemed as if she was trying to get away, and Xena tried to slow down, knowing she was too eager to be as gentle as she wanted to be -- but then Gabrielle arched forward to meet her. At last, in a desperate jerking movement, Gabrielle's hand sought out hers and Xena clutched it tightly as she drank in Gabrielle's long final spasm.

She stayed still, her eyes closed, resting her face on Gabrielle's stomach, feeling the smoothness of her skin and the little tremors that still rippled through her body, breathing in her scent.

"Xena..." Gabrielle's hand ran over her hair. "Oh, Xena..."

She moved up to the couch and reached out to stroke Gabrielle's face. Gabrielle took her hand and pressed it to her lips, and then gently pushed her back. Doubt and guilt and regret were rolled up into a ball inside her, almost-ready to burst open; but for now she surrendered to pleasure as Gabrielle kissed her breasts and trailed her lips down her stomach, and knelt between her thighs, touching her with soft hands and mouth, making love to her. The wave of heat rocked her and rose and crested, and she heard herself cry, "I love you, Gabrielle!" as if these words had been wrested from her by exquisite torture.

Gabrielle slid up; the hem of her dress, now crinkled and bunched up about her waist, grazed Xena's inner thigh and made her shiver. She settled into Xena's arms, her body light and warm, and they lay like that for a while, Gabrielle's head resting on Xena's breast. They could go to bed and spend the whole night together, sleep together, wake up together. And then...

Gabrielle raised herself up on an elbow, looking at her, a wistful tenderness in her eyes.

And then, maybe Gabrielle would come back. Leave the good life she had in Athens, and come back -- to what? To fighting and killing? To their insane arrangement with Ares? Maybe she could force herself to give him up. And then she'd go on, racked by guilt, racked by wanting him, missing him -- loving him. He would go away and take a part of her with him, just as Gabrielle had taken a part of her when she had gone away. Maybe a smaller part -- a worse part -- but still a part of her, and Gabrielle would only have what was left. It wasn't fair to Gabrielle; none of it was.

Gabrielle touched the corner of Xena's eye with the tip of her finger, and Xena realized she was tearing up.

"Gabrielle... I'm so sorry..."

Gabrielle's eyelids flickered, her eyes dimming a little.

"I know," she said. "Me too."

They both sat up. Gabrielle pulled up the top of her dress and held it at her shoulders; for a moment she looked as if she didn't quite know what to do next. Xena buckled up her dress for her.

"I'm sorry," Xena said again, stroking her face. "I should leave." She got up and found her undergarment, then picked up her dress, a crumpled heap of ridiculously bright scarlet on the floor, the fabric ripped at the hem. She slipped it on and tied the belt around her waist.

Gabrielle rose from the couch as well. Xena turned and put her hands on her shoulders.

She knew what she had to do. For now, until it was done, she could keep the pain in check, keep her voice and her hands steady.

"Gabrielle, you're still the best thing that ever happened to me. You'll always be in my heart, always. But we can't be together, not anymore. You deserve better."

"Xena..." There was a plea in Gabrielle voice as her eyes filled with tears again, but Xena wasn't sure if she was begging her to stay or to go.

"I want you to have a good life." She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Gabrielle's cheek, just above the corner of her mouth, the way she would have kissed a good friend. "I know you'll have one."

Gabrielle hesitated for a moment, and then reached up to kiss her back.

"Thank you -- for coming to my play," she said, her voice stifled.

"Thank you ... for everything." For everything I've taken from you. She wasn't sure how much longer she could stay in control. "Good-bye, Gabrielle."

Ares had given up on trying to sleep.

She could be out until morning, of course, and he'd spend a sleepless night, exhausted and hungry. The downstairs tavern was already closed. He remembered the honey cakes he'd gotten for Xena on the way back to the inn while passing a vendor's stall; they were Xena's favorites, and he had a disquieting feeling that he might need to make it up to her, that she might be upset with him for setting her up with Gabrielle. He sat up and took one of the cakes from the bedside table, and drank some water to wash down the too-sweet taste. Then he stretched out on his back, staring at the cracked ceiling paint in the feeble light of the lamp.

Setting her up with Gabrielle... Yes, that was what he had done. Who'd have thought it? But Xena needed the girl; he had known it for a while, but perhaps he hadn't fully understood it until after Gabrielle had left. It's a package deal, she had told him once, when she faked Gabrielle's death and her own suicide in front of him to deceive the gods. Maybe she would come back, and then -- what? Go on as before, taking turns in Xena's bed, acting as if they were just three fighting partners on the road together? He wondered idly if his old friends the Furies were really dead, or still around and possessing all three of them. Crazy, crazy... Maybe she would come back, and, no matter what else happened, Xena would be whole again.

He turned on his side and shifted around, settling into the mattress. At least it wasn't too lumpy, and it was a fairly large bed; a double bed, where he and Xena had slept the night before, where she had turned away from him the night before. As Ares moved the pillow, trying to get more comfortable, his hand touched something soft and flimsy under it ... her nightshift. He pulled it out and held it, and pressed it to his face, breathing it in.

Then it struck him how pathetic this was, playing touchy-feely with Xena's nightshift like some lovesick kid -- while Xena was... He tried not to think about it, but trying not to think about it didn't help. Right now, they could be in bed, naked, tangled together ... Xena could be kissing Gabrielle's mouth -- making low husky cries, her head thrown back, her nipples swollen from Gabrielle's kisses -- lifting her hips and opening up to Gabrielle's touch and -- dammit. He wasn't sure which was worse, the angry pounding at his temples or the sharp hot tightness in his groin. Finally it was too much, and he brought himself to a quick hard orgasm that only made him more tense, adding a blurry sense of shame to the jumble of other emotions. In those past months, he had gotten used to having Xena all to himself. It was maddening to think of sharing her again. That his own jealous imaginings turned him on only made matters worse.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that he could lose her completely. Ares opened his eyes and sat up abruptly, as if trying to get away from that thought. He could lose her. She could just go off with Gabrielle. Or ... He remembered that Xena wanted to go back to the farm after they left Athens. What if she was counting on Gabrielle to come along -- and planning to leave him behind on the farm, the way she had wanted back then? His heart was racing painfully, and he jumped up from the bed to grab his wineskin and gulp down some wine. He wouldn't stay and wait for her, he told himself; he wouldn't -- dammit, he still had some pride, he hadn't lost everything yet.

He took a few deep breaths and went back to bed. When he rolled over on his stomach, his arm brushed across her shift and he pushed it out of the way. He lay like that for a while, his face pressed into the pillow; it still had the faint scent of Xena's hair, of the sweetish spicy herbal mix she used to wash it.

Whether she came back alone or with Gabrielle, it was useless to think about what would happen next. His anxiety and anger had simmered down to the weary thought that if she shut him out, if she pushed him to the side, he'd have the strength to leave. But it wouldn't, couldn't come to that. Whatever happened, it probably wouldn't work; but he was willing to give it a try as long as he was a part of her life. He loved and needed Xena and she loved and needed him -- he believed it almost completely now -- and she loved and needed Gabrielle. There was no way out of this one.

At some point he must have fallen asleep after all, because then he was blinking in confusion and Xena was standing over him.

"You're back..." he muttered.

Xena took off her dress -- he noticed hazily that the hem was ripped -- and dropped it on a chair, absently, as if she wasn't fully aware that either the dress or the chair was there.

"I got you some cakes. There ..." -- he nodded toward the table.

She gave him an almost-startled look before the expression in her eyes turned soft and hurt.

"Okay," she said.

Fully awake now, Ares watched her pick up a cake and bite into it. Was that a mark on her left breast? No, just a shadow... He wanted to hold her, stroke her hair, carry her to bed and make slow tender love to her; now, after all this time, her nakedness could still move him like that -- perhaps especially now.

Xena put down the half-eaten cake and came over to the bed. As she slipped on her nightshift, he caught her musky scent, and bit his lip. What did he expect?

She paused to blow out the lamp. Ares moved to let her get under the blanket, and she settled down on her side, facing him, the way she always did; and then her familiar warmth next to him felt much more real than his fears. He sighed and wrapped his arm around her waist. Her body stiffened a little but she didn't turn away. Her hair was warm and silky under his cheek.

After a while he said quietly, "She's not coming back, is she?"

He heard the catch in Xena's breath. She was silent at first, and he thought she wasn't going to say anything. When she spoke, her voice was a dry whisper.

"You wanted her to come back?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I want to be with you." After a moment he added, "I want you to be happy."

She made a heartbreaking little sound, something between a sigh and a moan; then she stroked his cheek and leaned forward to give him a kiss.

"Ares... Thank you."

He put his hand over hers and closed his eyes, basking in her touch, in the sweetness of her breath on his face. "For what?"

"For putting up with all this. For everything you've given me..."

"But it's not enough, is it," he said with sudden bitterness, letting go of her hand. "It's never -- "

She interrupted him with another kiss, running her fingers through his hair, stroking his neck.

"We'll always be together," she said. "I promise."

There was sadness in her voice when she said it, and Ares knew that he was right; it wasn't enough for her, never would be. But this was all they had. He hugged her, letting her nestle her head on his shoulder.

"I do love you," she said.

"Gabrielle."

She wondered if she was hallucinating. There couldn't be anyone there; yet, as she lay on the couch with her eyes closed, she could have sworn she'd heard a voice.

She wasn't sure how much time had gone by since Xena had left. She had locked the front door and walked back to the sitting room, her legs moving of their own accord; all the objects around her -- the sparse furniture, the flickering candles, the fireplace with the flames dipping low -- seemed oddly distant in the amber half-darkness, as if they were reflections she could see but not touch. As she sank down on the couch, her eyes fell on something dark at her feet. It was Xena's black scarf, curled up on the floor. She picked it up and held it, running the smooth thin fabric between her fingers.

Her hair felt sticky with sweat. She thought, fleetingly, about taking a bath. But she couldn't; her whole body was still covered in Xena's touch, the feel and warmth and smell of her -- the pleasure of their lovemaking was still lingering faintly inside her, spreading outward, warming her skin -- and she knew she wanted to hold on to that, for now.

A distant voice in her head asked how she could have let this happen, what she could have been thinking. Had she expected, or even hoped, that she and Xena would get back together? No, not really. What had she expected, then? Maybe nothing. Maybe she had wanted so badly to be in Xena's arms again, to feel their bodies touch, to lose herself in Xena's heat that for a short time, nothing beyond that mattered. It was a frightening thought.

Other things drifted through her mind. Ares... the farm... Eve... maybe she would see Xena again at the celebration when Eve brought the Amazons back ... no, probably not... The play... "I have a good life here." -- "So did the chick in your play, didn't she? She had a good life -- and she gave it all up to be with her true love..." Her true love; Xena was still her one true love, and that would never change. That was the one thing she knew with perfect clarity, and that clarity was the worst thing of all, far worse than all those other floating bits of thoughts and images. No, there was something even worse ... the knowledge that Xena still loved her too, and that Xena had given her up.

You promised we'd always be together. You said I'd never lose you.

Anger twisted into a tight knot inside her, and she sat up straight with a dry sob that turned to a short animal-like cry. You lied to me. She wanted to run to the bath-chamber and heat up the water in the tub and scrub herself, wash off all the traces of something that shouldn't have happened. You lied to me -- I lost you -- and just when I thought I'd learned to accept it, you had to come back and make me lose you all over again. Xena's scarf had slid down to her lap; Gabrielle picked it up and grabbed it at both ends and tugged furiously, trying to rip it in half. The fabric chafed at her hands but wouldn't tear, and she pulled harder and gave another wordless, tearless cry that burned her throat, and pulled again. Then her hands went limp; defeated and spent, she lay down on the couch and rested her head on the pillow, clutching the scarf to her chest.

Xena still loved her. Maybe that was what hurt so much -- knowing that Xena had given her up, not because she had stopped loving her, not because she loved Ares more, but because she thought it was the best thing for her, for Gabrielle. Just as, once, Xena had tried to leave her because she was afraid that her vision of them being crucified together would come true.

My life is empty despite my success, Corinne said in her play. Was it? She would gladly give it all up, the Academy, the theater, her fans, her students, if she and Xena could be together again. But give up who she was? Wasn't that why she had left in the first place, because she knew she was losing herself? It occurred to Gabrielle that Xena wouldn't have done that for her or for anyone else. Xena would have readily died for her, and lived for her -- but she wouldn't, couldn't have given up being a warrior, as long as she could hold a sword; she probably wouldn't even have settled down with the Amazons, whose communal life went so against the grain of her nature.

She thought about that, and about her life with Xena, and about Xena and Ares; it was strangely painless, almost like reflecting on someone else's life. When she opened her eyes at some point, the room was nearly dark; the fire must have gone out in the fireplace, and only two candles were still alive. Gabrielle wondered if she should go to bed or eat something or bathe. She sighed and closed her eyes again.

And then there was that sound, a sweet, silvery female voice calling her name.

"Hey, Gabrielle!"

This time she knew she hadn't imagined it, and knew who it was. She sat up slowly, too drained to be shocked. Aphrodite was lounging in a chair in a deliberately, charmingly casual pose, exactly the way one would have expected her to make an appearance. She looked around, then gave a little sniff and clapped her hands; the flames in the fireplace leaped up at once, and there were more candles burning than Gabrielle remembered having in the room. Pleased with her handiwork, Aphrodite smiled at her, streaks of light gleaming in her golden hair.

"There. That's better."

"Aphrodite..." Gabrielle couldn't muster a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Just checking up on an old pal." Aphrodite stretched a little and giggled. "I thought you might need some moral support. Here, have more wine -- it'll do ya good."

She waved at the empty goblet on the table, and it filled instantly to the brim. Too exhausted to argue, Gabrielle picked it up and sipped the wine.

"So," Aphrodite said. "She ran off, huh?"

Gabrielle gingerly put down the goblet and stared at the Love Goddess. A sudden thought shook her out of her stupor, scalding her face and neck. She lowered her eyes and murmured, "Please don't tell me you were watching..."

"Not the whole time!" Aphrodite exclaimed, offended.

"Oh by the heavens..." Gabrielle buried her face in her hands, trying not to think about when exactly Aphrodite was watching. Maybe it wasn't such a good thing to get close to gods; if you didn't know them personally, it didn't bother you that they could watch you any time they wanted.

She heard Aphrodite sigh and say, "Poor Gabby..."

Then, without warning, the pain was back, and it didn't matter anymore that Aphrodite might have spied on her in an intimate moment. Still hiding her face in her hands, she began to cry, her shoulders shaking helplessly.

"Aww ... now don't do that." In a moment Aphrodite was sitting beside her on the couch, patting her back, handing her a handkerchief embroidered with pink hearts and flowers that had probably zapped down from some Olympian linen closet. "There, there... You'll be fine."

"Will I?" Gabrielle looked up, twisting the wet handkerchief in her fingers. "Aphrodite -- why does it have to be like this?"

"Love, you mean?" Aphrodite smiled benignly. "Duh! Nobody said love was perfect."

"Perfect?" She didn't have the energy to be furious. "Who's talking about perfect? There's perfect, and there's good, and there's okay, and there's pretty bad, and there's awful -- and then there's -- this."

"You mortals just don't get it. You think love is just that happily-ever-after stuff? Well, there's jealous love, and tragic love, and doomed love" -- Aphrodite held up a hand and examined her fingernails, turning them hot pink, then dark blue with sparkles before settling on a pale shade of violet -- "and really twisted love... It's all the real thing, you know."

"Oh, that's a huge comfort." Gabrielle tried to laugh but all it did was make her cry again, her teeth chattering. "It isn't ... it wasn't like that for Xena and me. We were meant to be together. You know that, don't you? You're the Goddess of Love..."

"Honey, I'm not even sure I know what this 'meant to be' stuff is all about. Sure, sometimes the gods will fix people up, but that's usually more like -- a joke or something."

"But we're soulmates," she said stubbornly, swallowing tears.

"Of course you are! I'm just saying ... who knows why? I mean, if I'm the Love Goddess and I don't know... Maybe it was meant to be. Maybe it just happened. And maybe you sort of made it that way, you know?" Aphrodite gave her a knowing little grin; Gabrielle realized that she was alluding to Corinne's line in the play about her bond with Xandra -- We didn't make it that way, it just is -- and for a moment she felt ridiculously flattered. Aphrodite continued unflappably, "Who cares? It's still, like -- totally cool."

"Then how can she be with Ares?"

"Who says you can only love one person at a time? It happens. Oh, not every day or anything -- not when it's like true love -- but..."

"Wait -- are you saying that what we have isn't true love?"

Aphrodite rolled her eyes. "Hello? You paying attention or what? I mean, even when it's true love, it still happens. Xena's always breaking all the rules anyway. Hey, this is a chick who's been to hell and back -- literally, right? So being in love with two people should be a breeze. Besides, when big bro really has his mind set on something, he's going to get it even if it kills him... and I guess it will kill him eventually, poor guy. You know I saw him and he had, like, gray hairs and wrinkles? It was -- "

"What am I going to do?" Gabrielle asked softly. She had been only half-listening.

"Well, I was hoping you'd find somebody else -- fish in the sea and all that... but looks like that's not gonna happen, huh?" Aphrodite made a sympathetic face, then brightened suddenly. "Hey, maybe you're like my bro -- he's really the one-chick type too, you know, deep down. Too bad it's the same chick, huh? I guess one of you had to go..." She paused and giggled. "Or maybe not... Maybe you and Ar should have hooked up too and then all three of you could have had your happily-ever-after -- "

"Aphrodite!"

"What, what? Chill out, will ya?" She shook her curls with a theatrical sigh of exasperation. "I'm only kidding. He's way too much of a drip to hook up with anyone these days, anyway."

Gabrielle laughed unhappily and sipped some more wine. Aphrodite watched her for a moment. Then she said, "Listen, Gabrielle, you really want some advice? Here goes. You can go back to her or you can move on. Don't just sit and mope around."

"Go back to her?" Gabrielle nearly choked on her wine. "But how can I -- "

"Sorry, little one, consultation's over. Take care of yourself, okay? Don't do anything I wouldn't do." She smirked and blew Gabrielle a kiss, which thankfully didn't turn into a cloud of pink hearts or rose petals. Before Gabrielle could say anything else, the goddess was gone in a burst of golden sparks.

Gabrielle put down the goblet. Then she went to her bedroom, lit the lamps there and opened a small wooden chest that stood in a corner. That was where she kept her Amazon outfit and her sais, and Xena's letters, and Sappho's scroll.

She took out the daggers and let them lie on her flattened palms, as if weighing them. She remembered stabbing a stranger in a sandstorm, thinking he was about to attack Xena, and then realizing that the man she had killed was Korah, her host's son, holding a scroll not a dagger. It wasn't just because of Ares that she had left. Maybe, if she went back, she could be a warrior on her own terms and not worry that she was letting Xena down if she held back from deadly violence, now that Xena had a fighting partner with no such scruples... What sort of idea was that? She flinched and dropped the daggers back in the box. Was she trying to persuade herself that it was good to have Ares around because he could pick up the slack for her when it came to the fighting?

No, that wasn't a good reason to go back. There were no good reasons to go back... except one. When I'm with you, the emptiness is gone.

She reached for Sappho's scroll. She hadn't looked at it since she had come to Athens. Of course, she knew the poem by heart -- but it was different somehow, seeing those words in black ink slashed into the yellowish, slightly crinkled papyrus. Equal to the gods he is, I think, when he sits near you, hears that voice... Maybe Ares still had everything -- and she had lost it, and would spend the rest of her life writing about love instead of living it.

Gabrielle wandered back to the sitting room and stood still for a while. She could go back... To what? Living side by side with her rival? Being driven insane by jealousy and anger and resentment? Doing things that would make her ashamed to look inside herself?

She grabbed Xena's scarf from the couch and tied it around the scroll, and stalked over to the fireplace. There was still a good fire going -- Aphrodite had taken care of that. The heat rolled over her as she stood close to the flames, making her skin feel tight and sunburned. Go back or move on.

She held out the scroll and the scarf, as if making a sacrificial offering on some godless altar.

"It's good," Xena said.

Ares shot her a wry look and swallowed another spoonful of chicken soup. "If you're going to lie, you'll have to be more convincing than that," he said. The meat had nearly turned to mush, and he had definitely gone overboard with the salt and spices. "Besides, it's not worth it. Compliments on my cooking don't do a thing for my ego."

"Deal." She was smiling. "I'm cooking tomorrow."

"Oh no. You're not allowed. Mortal life is short enough as it is."

She chuckled and dipped her spoon in the bowl.

Other than this sorry waste of the chicken bought from the ever-helpful widow next door, things were pretty good. They had been on the farm for two days, after a five-day trip from Athens. Xena had her mind set on fixing up the place; Ares wasn't sure why, and he wasn't going to ask. The suspicion that she might still be thinking about dumping him there came and was quickly chased away. At times her eyes would fade into a distant look, and he knew that she was thinking of Gabrielle -- maybe remembering the days all three of them had spent on the farm, maybe remembering Athens and ... well, no point in dwelling on that. Mostly, she was there with him; sometimes they smiled at each other and sometimes they touched, and teased each other and laughed and everything was all right.

They had cleared the charred, jagged remnants of the barn, where the human bones buried among the ashes and dirt served as a reminder of the battle they had fought here; they had put the door of the house back on its hinges, swept away the dust and some of the cobwebs, even patched up the more blatant holes in the walls. Ares had done his share of grumbling about the indignity of manual labor, but it was only for appearances' sake and for Xena's amusement. Manual labor wasn't all that bad when they were working side by side, and when there was something to look forward to at the end of the day. Actually, it hadn't even taken until the end of the day, only until they took a break from work and Xena went to fetch water from the well. Now, a few hours later, the memory of it tightened inside him, taking away his breath for a moment -- her smile as he drank from the dipper in her hands, the cool freshness of her mouth as they kissed, the chill of her hands on his back, his own impatience as he untied the laces in the front of her dress.

Now, the hot day was fading to a mellow evening, and they were sitting in the almost-cleaned-up kitchen eating chicken soup. It occurred to Ares that if someone walked in and saw them right now, they could be taken for a peasant couple. Strangely, the thought of it wasn't altogether annoying.

"Hey."

He looked up to see Xena smiling at him; she reached over to pick it up a small piece of chicken meat he'd dropped on the table, and lifted it to his mouth. He licked it off her fingers and kissed her palm, and heard the low satisfied hum in her throat -- and then shifted his eyes for an instant and saw, in the open window, Gabrielle's face.

For a moment his breath stopped and he wasn't sure she was really there. But she was, her face and her hair pale in the twilight.

Shit. He wasn't sure if he was afraid that she would stay, or run. Would she think that he had asked her to come back just to play a nasty joke on her, to flaunt their happiness in her face?

"What is it?" Xena asked. Then she turned to look at the window.

She didn't move. He wasn't sure she'd noticed that he had let go of her hand. Almost inaudibly, she murmured, "Gabri-" -- and trailed off.

Gabrielle's face was gone from the window, and Ares wasn't sure how long it was before he heard the front door open and her steps creak on the floorboards. He turned toward the doorway of the kitchen; Xena turned around too, slowly, rigidly, as if she were afraid that if she relaxed for a moment her body would not obey her. The shadows in the doorway thickened into Gabrielle's form, her face a gray blur in the half-darkness. She stood still for a moment, then stepped closer and stopped again, her hands clenched in front of her; she was wearing her Amazon outfit, the red velvet top and the short skirt, but her hair was still long, pinned at the sides and falling down to her shoulders.

"Gabrielle..." This time Xena said it, or rather gasped it as she bolted to her feet. The two of them stood face to face, and Ares was reminded suddenly of the power he once had to make time stop -- of strolling through a stilled battlefield where warriors lunging at each other were suspended in mid-charge. Then time unfroze, and they were holding each other's hands. Ares lowered his eyes.

"You're back..." Xena muttered, her voice shaking. He looked at them again, and saw Gabrielle try to smile as she started to open the satchel at her belt.

"I thought you might need your scarf," she said, with a short nervous chuckle.

Xena's mouth twitched into a crooked grin. "Uh -- thanks, I don't know what I'd do without it -- here on the farm especially..."

Gabrielle dropped her hand without ever reaching into the satchel, and looked around. "You've fixed up the place..."

"Yeah," Xena said. "Another month of hard labor and it'll look brand-new."

After another short silence Gabrielle said, "Can I have something to drink? I've been riding -- "

"Sure." Xena walked to the table and picked up the jug of fermented cider, and poured it into the clay cup she had set out for herself -- her hands didn't shake but her movements were sharp, almost jerky -- and handed it to Gabrielle. Gabrielle drank slowly, her eyes half-closed, as Xena watched her.

"Welcome back," Ares said. The sound of his own voice startled him, as if he hadn't been entirely sure that he was in the room -- as if he had spoken to remind them, or maybe himself, of his presence. Gabrielle darted a quick glance at him and put the cup down. Xena looked at him too, only it was still as if she didn't quite see him.

"Back..." She straightened her shoulders and looked down; when she raised her head again, her face had hardened in resolve. "I can't let you do this, Gabrielle. I can't let you ?- "

"Xena, wait." Gabrielle put her hand on Xena's arm. "This once -- let me decide for myself." She took a deep breath, clasping her hands on her stomach, as though about to deliver a speech. "I want to come back. My life" -- her voice broke off for a moment -- "I can have a life without you, Xena. I know that now. Even a good life... it's just not the life I want. Don't -- don't say anything yet. I know you think I was losing myself before... and I was. But it doesn't have to be that way. I think I finally know who I am..." She paused, giving Ares time to think, Took you long enough. "... and you're a part of that. But you're not all of me. I forgot that before. I won't again."

"Gab-"

"Wait. I know Ares loves you and -- I know you love him. Xena -- I've accepted it. It can't hurt me anymore."

"No," Xena said softly, shaking her head. "No, you can't -- "

"I have something for you."

Xena looked up at her sharply. This time, Gabrielle did reach inside her satchel; she pulled out a scroll with a piece of flimsy black fabric tied around it.

"Here," she said.

Her hands stiff, Xena untied the scarf, letting it slither down to the floor, and unrolled the scroll. It was that poem, the one Gabrielle had gotten in Megara and lost at the tavern; somehow, Ares just knew. It was vaguely disconcerting that Gabrielle would give this to Xena in front of him -- and that he still remembered it. Equal to the gods, I think, he is -- when he sits near you, hears that voice -- and velvet laugh, which makes my heart tremble so wildly...

Xena started to read, and glanced rather sheepishly at Gabrielle.

"Go on," Gabrielle said. "Read it."

For when I dare to look at you -- if only for a moment's span -- the words break silent on my tongue -- and leave me speechless... Thin fire runs beneath my skin -- and thunder pounds against my ears -- chill sweat breaks out all over me -- my eyes see nothing... He had forgotten what came after that. Just as well; that was all he needed, to have this thing knocking about his head.

Ares looked at Gabrielle. She stood straight, her hands clenched and her head tilted down, her tension a palpable thing; and suddenly he had a too-vivid memory of how they tussled over the scroll, of the anger and the hot stab of lust he'd felt lying on top of her. It made his cheeks burn. He shifted his eyes back to Xena, who was still reading, her face hidden by shadows.

Then it came back to him. My body shivers head to foot -- and I grow paler than the reeds -- until I'm lost -- and then I feel that death is near me.

Xena looked up, and even in the darkening room, Ares could see the streaks of tears on her face, the quivering of her lips.

"It's -- "

"It's us," Gabrielle whispered. "It's about us -- you see?" Xena nodded, speechless indeed, as she slowly put the scroll down on the table. For a moment Gabrielle was silent too; then she said, "I love you."

"Gabrielle..." Xena's voice was raw with longing and ache and joy. "I've missed you so much..."

They hugged, Xena's cheek resting on the top of Gabrielle's head, her eyes closed; then she pulled back and looked at Gabrielle, and stroked her cheek and whispered, "You're sure -- ?"

"Yes..."

There had been times when Xena had looked at him that way too, her face changed by tenderness, stripped of all defenses; and it occurred to Ares that she could look at him like that because she could look that way at Gabrielle, because Gabrielle had coaxed the Warrior Princess out of her armor. There was something maddening about this thought -- but before it could take a clear shape in his mind, he was struck by something else. I know Ares loves you and you love him... He had heard Gabrielle say it, of course, but it was as if he had only now realized that she was talking about him -- and, as he grasped the full meaning of her words, he felt a discomfiting warm rush of gratitude.

There had to be something he could do besides sitting there. He got up, swept some junk off a chair in the corner and pushed it up to the table.

"Thank you," Gabrielle said. She walked over and sat down; she looked at the window where the evening was starting to thicken, then down at her hands, and finally at Xena, who remained standing. "Xena -- there's something I need to tell you. I can't ... we can't go on until you know everything..."

Xena didn't move but he could see the tension in every muscle of her body, in the rigid line of her mouth as she said, "What is it?"

Maybe she thought the girl was about to confess to some sexual tryst. But that wasn't it, of course; even before Gabrielle spoke again, Ares knew what she was about to say.

"Back in Maroneia ... I gave that priest the ambrosia."

"What?" Xena's voice was a frightened rasp.

"The ambrosia at Ares' temple. It was me. I stole it from the Amazons and gave it to Geryon because I -- "

"No. No, Gabrielle -- you couldn't have -- it can't be -- " She looked at Ares, as if for support -- but his expression must have told her something else, because there was a quick flash of pain in her face and her voice broke off. Gabrielle turned to him too.

"I told Ares before I left. I made him promise not to tell you..." She smiled at him wanly. "Thank you -- for keeping your word. I was going to tell you, Xena... when the time was right."

Xena was still staring at Ares.

"You mean" -- she spoke slowly, numbly -- "it's true."

"Yeah," he said.

He wasn't sure if he'd ever seen such pain in her face, except when she stood looking at the bodies of villagers crucified by her own daughter. He wished he knew what to do, what else to say.

Xena came up to Gabrielle and knelt on the floor, and took her hands.

"Xena -- " Gabrielle looked down at her, her anguished look a softer reflection of Xena's own; then she slid off the chair and she too was kneeling on the splintery grimy floor, facing Xena, clasping her hands. From where he stood Ares could barely see their features now, just the two dark gray profiles against the almost-faded daylight from the window behind them.

"I'm sorry," Gabrielle said.

Xena brought her hands to her mouth and kissed them.

"I'm sorry, Gabrielle -- so sorry..."

She would never love him like that -- never love him so much that she would take the blame for something he had done to hurt her... but that was all right, he didn't want that from her anyway -- it was enough that she didn't blame him for the things she hated in her past...

Ares picked up the flint-stone lighter from the table and lit the lamp. As its glow spread around the kitchen, blackening the shadows on the walls and in the corners, he saw the two women embrace, their heads resting on each other's shoulders; Xena's face was hidden from view but Gabrielle's eyes were closed, tears shimmering on her cheeks, the corners of her mouth lit up slightly by a smile. They pulled apart, their eyes locked on each other. He shivered, and wondered if he should put on his shirt. Then, for a brief instant, Xena turned her head and looked up at him, and it took his breath away.

Gabrielle stroked Xena's face, and ran a finger over her lips. Then she said, "Let's go to bed."

He gaped at her, the initial shock followed by a jolt of anger. Dammit, she could have waited until they were alone. This was definitely a new Gabrielle ... a Gabrielle he might have appreciated under different circumstances, but right now -- it was a little too much -- too soon. Xena probably thought so too, because she looked rather alarmed. And then it got worse: Gabrielle looked directly at him and smiled. She was actually taunting him -- the little bitch.

"What, you want me to join you?" he said, his voice edgy.

She flinched a little, and nodded.

Was she serious? No, she couldn't possibly -- but before he could think anything else, he felt such a surge of desire and fear that his knees buckled and he had to sit down.

Xena looked from Gabrielle to him and back, her eyes wide.

"Wait -- you mean, you want -- you and me and -- "

"Xena," she said pleadingly. "Don't you see -- it's the only way we can make this work -- if -- if -- we're all in this together..."

So the girl had really flipped. There was no way Xena was going to let this happen. Ares managed to find his voice and sound reasonably casual.

"Now there's a whole new meaning to that -- "

Xena cut him off. "No. No, Gabrielle -- you don't mean that -- "

"Yes, I do."

His heart was beating painfully fast, and in spite of himself his mind conjured up a jumble of images that inflamed him even more.

"You can't," Xena said. "Not you -- this isn't right ..."

"How can love be wrong?" Gabrielle said softly.

Oh, she was serious all right -- very serious -- leave it to her to come up a sappy line for something like this...

"Come on." Gabrielle rose and held out her hand to Xena. Xena looked up at her, a quick grimace flitting across her face. Then he knew, incredulously, that she had decided. After a moment she took Gabrielle's hand and got up, and then they were both looking at him, their eyes sparkling in the lamplight.

Ares stared back at them, unable to move, unable to ask if they were both out of their minds.

Xena stepped toward him and leaned down, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Do you want this?" she asked, in a voice that wasn't teasing or seductive but tender and, somehow, unsure.

All he could say was, "Do you?"

She leaned closer still, and, shutting his eyes, he felt the warmth of her mouth on his lips.

There was no point in trying to think. He got up, picked up the lamp and followed them.

Once they were in the bedroom, he wondered if he should have brought the light; but no one said anything about putting it out, and he set it down on the bedside table he and Xena had fixed the day before. Then he turned toward the two women.

The three of them stood staring at each other. For a moment Ares thought, with a touch of relief amidst the disappointment, that nothing was going to happen because no one would have the nerve to make the first move. His arousal was ebbing, and the thought of Xena trying to get him hard while Gabrielle looked on didn't help one bit.

"Well, at least the bed is big enough," he said; he had meant for it to be funny but it came out as funny in all the wrong ways. There followed an even more uncomfortable silence, specked with little creaks and taps that seemed to come from everywhere in the house. Mice? Tartarus -- what a time to think about mice... No one moved, except that Xena shifted her feet and raised her hand a little, then let it fall. He could just walk up to her and kiss her ... if he had the nerve.

It was Gabrielle who pulled off her top with an abrupt, almost defiant gesture; she dropped it on the floor and looked up, her lips twitching a little, a deep blush spreading from her face to her neck. Ares realized he was staring at her breasts, and quickly shifted his eyes to Xena. She was already undoing the laces of her dress, and when she slipped out of it she stood naked, her hair falling about her shoulders. He felt a brief pang at the memory of that afternoon, when they were working in the yard and she was naked under her dress -- naked for him, only for him --

The dull thud of Gabrielle's boot hitting the floor snapped him out of it. She kicked off the other boot, then pushed down her skirt and undergarment and stood up straight, staring at Xena, looking for all the world as if she were about to jump off a cliff. It was only an instant before Xena took her in her arms, so quickly that Ares wondered if she wanted to shield the girl from his eyes.

They sank down on the bed. This was it, the vision that had so often tormented him in more ways than one -- Xena and Gabrielle in each other's arms, melted into each other's kisses, each other's touch -- only now it was real, right in front of him ... and it left him cold and limp. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, still wearing his pants, watching as they kissed, as Xena ran her hand over the curve of Gabrielle's hip.

Then, Xena looked up at him and froze for a moment.

She rolled over and sat up next to him.

"Come here," she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Come here."

Ares felt her breath on his neck, and the softness of her kiss. She turned his head toward her and pressed her mouth to his, gently but insistently sliding her tongue between his lips. That was more than enough to make him want her again. He turned around and held her, closing his eyes so that it was just the two of them, pressing his cheek to her warm hair; and after they'd stayed like that for a while, Xena leaned back, pulling him down with her. She helped him out of his pants and he kicked them away.

There was another moment of awkward waiting as they all lay still, with Xena in the middle. The bed-sheet felt rough and slightly damp. A night-bird shrieked nastily outside, and Ares flinched at the sound. Finally, Gabrielle moved closer and kissed Xena's neck, reaching to stroke her breast. After a last brief hesitation he started to kiss her too, licking the soft skin of her neck, planting small kisses on her shoulder. Her sharp gasp made him look up; her mouth was open in confusion and alarm.

"You all right?"

She nodded almost guiltily; it made Ares wonder if she had thought about this before, had wanted this, the two of them making love to her at the same time. He kissed his way down to her breast and took her nipple in his mouth, licking and nibbling lightly, feeling the shudders that ran through her body. His eyes half-closed, he saw dimly that Gabrielle's mouth was on Xena's other breast. They continued like this, caressing her until her husky broken breaths turned to moans, until she raised her hips, desperate to be touched, and Ares slid his hand down her stomach. His hand collided with Gabrielle's.

Her fingers stiffened instantly; and, just as they both jerked their hands away, he glanced up and found himself staring into her eyes.

The pause was probably much shorter than it seemed, but it was long enough for Xena to lift her head and murmur, "We can stop -- we don't have to -- "

"Shh..." Gabrielle breathed. "I don't want to stop."

Xena looked from her to Ares, her eyes misty with tenderness and uncertainty, and started to sit up. "Then let me -- "

"Lie back." Gabrielle pressed her palm into Xena's chest. "Just lie back."

She gave Xena a kiss that lingered a little too long, then raised her eyes toward Ares as she moved her hand downwards. He looked back at her in tacit agreement.

Xena cried out at Gabrielle's touch and arched her neck, unable to hold still as Ares stroked her thigh and teased her nipple again, sucking it hard, then barely grazing it with his tongue. There was something peculiarly helpless about the low little sounds she made with each breath, and it was driving him wild; it was all he could do to restrain himself from thrusting against her.

"Oh don't stop -- " Xena cried hoarsely, and he wondered if Gabrielle wanted him to take over; but she had stopped only to slide down and settle between Xena's thighs. The sight of her dipping her head down, her hair trailing over Xena's glistening skin, almost finished him off. Xena was making those sounds again, and Ares felt another stab of jealousy at the thought that he wasn't the one to coax them out of her -- but he would see her face when she came -- he could kiss her... He placed quick hungry kisses on her jaw, her neck, her breasts -- she was shaking uncontrollably now -- so close, so very close -- he noticed that she was clutching Gabrielle's hand and moved up to seize her mouth, feeling her cry vibrate in his throat. He broke the kiss to watch her pleasure-racked face, to whisper in her ear, "You're so beautiful -- " and in the next instant she was overcome completely.

Gabrielle pressed her cheek to Xena's stomach and lay still, her eyes closed, reluctant to move. A slow warmth was dissipating through her body, as if she had shared in Xena's pleasure, the two of them truly a part of each other, just like it had always been. Finally she sat up -- and saw Ares holding Xena, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder, saw him stroking her hair, pressing his lips to her forehead. It hurt. Let go of her, she screamed inside. No ... no, this was why she had wanted this, so that she could accept seeing Xena in Ares' arms, learn to see him as one of them, part of them. Suddenly conscious of being naked, and in the presence of a naked and aroused man, she hunched her shoulders and folded her arms over her chest; but there was really no point to it, and Ares wasn't looking at her anyway. Dropping her arms, she crawled up toward Xena and stroked her cheek. Xena raised a hand to touch her face, smiling faintly. Then Ares moved aside, and Gabrielle settled next to Xena, hugging her, snuggling up to her.

She raised herself a little and stared into Xena's still-mellow eyes, and reached up to kiss her.

"Xena," she said, just to hear the sound. "Xena. I love you."

Xena caressed her face again, tracing her features with her fingertips, moving back her hair.

"I love you too..." Then she shifted her eyes to Ares, who was still holding her other hand; she squeezed his fingers and took a deep breath, and said softly, timidly, "I love you both."

She could accept it. Gabrielle looked at Ares and saw the emotions struggling in his face, jealousy and love and anxiety and desire all laid bare; and then something moved her to lean over and kiss him on the mouth.

The stifled sound he made was like an exclamation of shock -- but in the next instant it turned passionate, and he shuddered as he licked her lips and swept his tongue against hers. Taken aback at first, Gabrielle felt her cheeks burn when she realized what had made him respond this way; it was intensely embarrassing and upsetting and, to her dismay, exciting.

Her mind whirling, she broke away. As she regained her bearings, she saw Ares glance nervously at Xena -- and saw the shocked, even scared look on Xena's face. Was she thinking that the two of them -- Gabrielle and Ares -- ? Gabrielle shook her head, smiling, stroking the back of Xena's hand.

"It's all right, Xena -- everything's all right..."

Xena sighed and smiled back as the brittle wariness retreated from her face, though there was something bittersweet and almost guilty about her smile.

"Xena -- " It was Ares who spoke this time; his voice was thick and ragged, and he looked like he was in a desperate state. Xena turned toward him and kissed him, weaving her fingers through his hair. Then she pulled back, suddenly rigid with tension, and glanced at Gabrielle.

"Xena," he said again. "Please..."

Gabrielle put a hand on Xena's shoulder.

"It's okay," she said. In a low murmur, feeling herself blush in spite of everything, she added, "Go on."

She looked on quietly as Xena climbed on top of Ares; he bucked under her and made a strangled sound in his throat, and she whispered, "Shh," stroking his face, wiping the sweat from his forehead, kissing his cheek. Then she raised her head and gasped a little, her lips parted; reflections from the lamp bathed her face in a tender glow and made tiny golden stars shimmer in her eyes.

In the past, haunted by thoughts of Xena and Ares together, Gabrielle had imagined their couplings as rough and fierce, as combat of a different kind, frightening, alien, nothing like the love she and Xena shared. Now that she was watching them -- and a part of her still couldn't believe that she was -- it was shocking and moving, and somehow troubling, to see them being so gentle with each other. As their excitement rose, she saw something of the wildness she had expected. There was a moment when Xena bent toward Ares, brushing her lips over his only to move out of reach when he tried to kiss her; she grinned at his frustration and toyed with him again, this time nipping lightly on his lower lip, and by the time she let him have her mouth he was almost in a frenzy, his hands clenched hard on her arms. Yet there was so much tenderness underneath all that, such care in the way they touched each other, that it made Gabrielle want to weep.

Xena's eyes were veiled now, her lip curled, her voice joining Ares' deeper cries, and Gabrielle wondered if Xena had forgotten that she was even there -- much as she herself had forgotten about Ares' presence before. She reached out and touched Xena's shoulder, stroking her hair. Xena shivered and spun toward her, trying to catch her breath; then, in a quick gesture, she turned her head and pressed her warm lips to Gabrielle's hand.

As Gabrielle took her hand away, her eyes did brim with tears; it was through their sparkling haze that she saw Ares grip Xena's shoulders, pull her down and kiss her fiercely, almost brutally, and still with that heart-tugging tenderness.

Ares swept away Xena's sweat-dampened hair and covered her neck with kisses. She was going to come -- if he could only go on a little longer... by now it was sheer agony trying to hold back. About to lose control, he clutched her tighter and groaned, "I love you -- I love you so damn much..." She shuddered and sought his mouth again, and then it was happening, she was shaking in his arms and he let go and they were falling into each other.

He lay back with his eyes closed, the full length of her body pressed into him, skin on hot skin. Then, much too soon, Xena stirred and squirmed out of his arms, and he heard her mutter, "Gabrielle..." It felt as if a blanket had been yanked off him on a chilly night. He looked at them, and glimpsed Gabrielle's tear-filled eyes before she hid her face in Xena's hair. She had just watched him and Xena -- had heard him beg for relief, seen him lose it completely -- the thought of it, at the moment, was alarming if not downright sickening. Worse, he found that he couldn't take his eyes off the two women as they embraced next to him, no matter how much a part of him wanted to look away.

"I'm all right, I'm all right -- I wasn't -- " Gabrielle's voice was muffled by Xena's embrace, and then became a barely audible mumble. Xena held her, stroking her hair and back, kissing her, rocking a little, murmuring something tender that he couldn't make out. Soon Gabrielle was breathing faster and whimpering a little; Xena rolled on top of her and captured her mouth in a long kiss, then let her lips wander gently over Gabrielle's face and neck. She pulled back to look at Gabrielle, and this time it was Xena's eyes that glittered with tears.

"You're beautiful," she said, "beautiful..."

She slid down to kiss Gabrielle's breasts; and, as Gabrielle shook and arched, it struck Ares that she was beautiful -- her eyelids fluttering, her lips bright and swollen from kisses and open in a silent cry, her hair tangled -- a beautiful woman, not a girl; the woman Xena loved. He wondered if he could touch her. But he had no idea if she wanted it, or how Xena would react; and, even though a warm tide of arousal was starting to spill inside him again, he could still think straight enough to know that it wasn't a good idea.

Xena shifted further down, and then, shuddering a little, Gabrielle touched her cheek.

"No, don't ..." Xena raised her head sharply and she stammered, "I want to look at you ?- "

Xena smiled a little, her eyes tender, and moved up to lie next to Gabrielle; this time Gabrielle had ended up in the middle, and Ares wondered uneasily if Xena had done this on purpose to let him see them. He watched Xena caress Gabrielle's breasts and stomach, the pale skin rippling with little spasms under her touch, and then part Gabrielle's thighs as she kissed her mouth again, silencing her soft moan. It was turning him on, of course; but apart from that, the strange gratitude he had felt before washed over him once more, the feeling that Xena could love him because she and Gabrielle loved each other, because they'd let him into their life. He should have resented this thought, but there was, for the moment, no anger left in him. Now he wanted to see it all, every kiss, every touch -- they were so hot -- so beautiful -- Xena so anxious to give pleasure, Gabrielle so far gone, her cheeks flushed, her hips lifting off the bed as Xena stroked her in little circles and slid her fingers inside her, her nipples taut and wet from Xena's mouth.

Ares rolled over on his side, watching them. He wanted to join them, to lie behind Xena and wrap his arm around her and touch her while she caressed Gabrielle, to press his mouth to Xena's shoulder and neck; or to join her in pleasuring Gabrielle, kiss Gabrielle's breast and taste its silky sweaty skin, suck hard on her nipple while Xena brought her over the edge -- dammit, he wanted to join them! He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take, especially when Xena looked up at him, her mouth on Gabrielle's breast, and he saw a mischievous sparkle in her eye; or maybe it was just the flickering light of the lamp. Then, mercifully, it was over; Gabrielle's body shook and went rigid, her voice hoarse as she almost sobbed her pleasure, until she stilled and pressed, trembling and gasping, closer to Xena and hid her face in Xena's chest.

"Are you okay?" Xena whispered, stroking her hair.

"Yeah..." Gabrielle looked up and they kissed; and Xena took her face in her hands and said, almost inaudibly, "I love you."

When she let go, Gabrielle sighed and eased down on her back, her hair a tousled heap on the gray pillow. She turned her head, and Ares found himself looking straight into her eyes, dark and deep in the dusky shadows that fell across her face. She shivered a little; then she moved closer and reached out hesitantly to touch his cheek. His heart jumped at the memory of how she had kissed him before. He had no idea what she was up to, or how far she wanted to go; he knew only that it would change things, and maybe not in a good way. Yet if he backed away ?- that would be it, and he would never know what would have happened if he had gone along. Either way, it could ruin everything.

"We can love each other too, right?" Gabrielle said. "Because we both -- "

Her voice trailed off as she glanced back at Xena. The thought of a clever comeback dissipated in Ares' mind before it could even form into actual words. There was a fleeting struggle in Xena's face. She took Gabrielle's hand and held it for a long moment, squeezing it gently. On impulse, Ares reached out toward them, and saw a smile of encouragement flicker in Xena's eyes. He put his palm over their entwined fingers and felt the tender touch of Xena's thumb caressing the back of his hand -- and then, still with a slight shock, Gabrielle's fingers grazing his.

Pulled back into awareness, Xena lay still. She felt drained of all strength, yet somehow it was good.

Even with her eyes shut, she knew the sun was high and streaming in through the window at the head of the bed. She also knew that last night had been no dream; she could feel Gabrielle nestled by her side, her head resting on her arm, Gabrielle's even breath brushing gently over her skin -- and on the other side of her, Ares, his arm lying across her stomach, his heat seeping into her.

She hadn't dreamed it, any of it. Ares' and Gabrielle's hands moving over her body, their mouths on her breasts, their kisses burning and soothing at the same time, filling all of her with a fever that rose to an ever-higher pitch. Making love to Ares and then to Gabrielle, all of them in the same bed; meeting Ares' gaze while she caressed Gabrielle, the intensity in his eyes shocking her with a new jolt of desire. And then ... and then, Gabrielle and Ares in each other's arms, touching each other with an awkward, nervous affection, with a kind of curiosity, and then with a growing excitement that seemed to take them both by surprise. The memory of that wormed its way into the quiet morning-after haze, nudging and tugging inside her.

Xena opened her eyes and winced at the bright flash of sunlight. A droplet of sweat trickled from her forehead down the side of her face. Ares and Gabrielle... She had no right to feel jealous ... but, right or wrong, it still scratched at her heart, still made her afraid -- greedily, selfishly. What if the two of them wanted to spend the night together and she'd be the one lying restlessly awake, wondering... ? It would serve her right, after what she'd put them through. She shifted a little; her arm was getting stiff but she didn't want to move it, or she would disturb Gabrielle. What if... It would be her fault if she ended up alone ?- only she didn't want to be alone ... maybe she'd lost the knack for it by now.

What a stupid thing to worry about, anyway. They were all together ... maybe everything was all right, maybe she could just let it be. Closing her eyes, Xena drifted back to the last foggy moments she remembered from the night before, when the three of them lay in a drowsy embrace, unwilling to separate, kissing gently, stroking, touching as they let sleep take them.

Would it still be all right when they woke up? She opened her eyes again and tilted her head to look at Gabrielle, her face mostly hidden from view by her hair, her bare back and shoulder lit up by a sun-patch that made the down on her skin a soft white. Gabrielle was about to wake up in bed with her and Ares... Gabrielle, who would have been the last person in the world to want such a thing -- who knew nothing of desire without love, had no experience with sex except for their life together and her one-night marriage to Perdicas.

A more distant memory pushed into Xena's mind: the orgy at Caligula's palace, the gaudy banquet hall abuzz with voices and music and drunken laughter, the air thick with the smell of wine and incense and perfumes and sex. Amidst the embroidered rugs and cushions, there were writhing half-naked bodies, many in heaps of three or more; sometimes a reveler would crawl or stumble over from one group to another and it made no difference, just some extra body parts to be groped and prodded and tongued. She remembered the shocked revulsion in Gabrielle's face, and her own disgust at the spectacle. Maybe what they had done was no different; maybe Gabrielle's life with her had come to this. But it wasn't the same ... it couldn't be. Last night had been about love -- Gabrielle had known that... How can love be wrong? It had been about being together -- staying together.

Ares sighed and stirred next to her, and Xena knew he was awake. She turned to him, suddenly worried again. He looked up, squinting at the sun, and gave her a dim sleepy smile; and then, Xena knew exactly when it all came back to him, because his eyes snapped into focus and for an instant he looked as if he were trying to wake up for real. He pulled his arm back and turned on his side, raising himself on his elbow.

She lifted her hand, a little awkwardly, and brushed the back of her fingers over his face.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Good question.

He felt strange -- different, somehow. There was the stark fact that he was in bed with Xena and Gabrielle, with Xena next to him and Gabrielle, still asleep, snuggled up next to Xena. There was -- last night.

Had he wanted this all along? The memory of the two of them caressing Xena -- of holding her, kissing her breasts while Gabrielle slid down between her thighs, watching her face when she was coming -- made him dizzy and stirred him again, getting the better of his exhaustion. And there was more.

There had been the moment when Gabrielle moved into his arms and they lay together, their lips touching in a brief, warm, clumsy kiss that neither of them would deepen; then she pulled back and her hand roamed tentatively over his chest, grazing his nipples, and he began touching her too, stroking her shoulders, her back, her soft hair. Her hand moved down to his stomach, making him breathe harder and tighten his grip on her shoulder; she froze for an instant, and then resumed her fumbling about. He couldn't stifle a moan; it was bad enough that her touch could do this to him (Tartarus, this was still the annoying blonde!) but she would probably drive him insane and leave it at that. His eyes met Xena's unreadable gaze, and he felt as though he were silently begging her for help -- or not so silently because Gabrielle's fingers actually brushed his groin and he moaned again. Gabrielle paused, and Ares felt her tremble and squirm a little. When he looked at her, her expression was startled and embarrassed and tender, and a kind of tenderness for her came over him, too. He hugged her closer and pulled her up on top of him, and kissed her cheek and then, impulsively, the tip of her nose. She chuckled and nuzzled his neck, and it was all very well except that he was desperate for relief; if she'd been deliberately trying to tease him half to death, she couldn't have done better. It made him reckless enough to rub against her thigh; Gabrielle gasped a little, her eyes widening, and shifted to the side ?- and just when he thought he had scared her off, she slid down a little and put her hand on his cock.

She started to stroke him, hesitantly at first. Turning his head toward Xena, Ares saw the shock in her face, and the anxiety; but he also knew her well enough to see the excitement. Tiny jets of fire were shooting through his blood, and he didn't know if it was from Gabrielle's touch or from the knowledge that Xena was watching them, that it was turning her on. "Is this okay?" Gabrielle asked in a near-whisper, and he turned to her and blurted out hoarsely, "Oh yeah -- it's good -- " She grew bolder and more eager, and he raised his head to kiss her shoulder and finally worked up the nerve to cup her breast. She flinched slightly and he gasped, "Don't stop" -- but she wasn't stopping, instead she leaned down and ran her warm tongue over his nipple. Part of him still felt hazily dismayed at the thought that he was pleading with Gabrielle, that she had him at her mercy -- but dammit, she was making him feel so good ?- he lay back and let her go on, his hand wandering over her back, her waist, her hip. Sometimes their eyes met and Gabrielle gave him an uncertain smile, and he did his best to smile back at her; a few times he noticed her looking over at Xena, Xena's eyes shining softly in response. Already on the verge of coming, he pulled Gabrielle closer, his fingers tangled in her hair, clutching at the nape of her neck; just then, his eyes met Xena's again, and stayed locked on hers the whole time as the heat rippled through his body.

He remembered it all now, as he looked at Gabrielle nestled on Xena's arm: how he touched Gabrielle's face afterwards -- how she turned away shyly but then looked up and stroked his cheek; how she shrank back a bit when he moved down and brushed his lips over her inner thighs, how she thrust herself toward him later. It still felt strange, to know that he and Gabrielle had touched each other this way; it hadn't been at all like anything he could have fantasized or imagined or dreamed. But it didn't matter; he was awake, and Xena lay next to him, and everything was all right.

Ares smiled at her, his heart wobbling a bit when she smiled back. He wanted to hold her tight, hug her, rock her in his arms; but he didn't want to wake Gabrielle, not yet. He leaned toward Xena and kissed her soft yielding mouth, then trailed his lips to her ear.

"I've got you, haven't I?" he said quietly.

"You've got me." Laughter bubbled under the surface of her voice; she sounded moved, and -- happy. He pulled back so he could see her face. She slid her hand up his back and ruffled his hair. Love and joy and hope welled inside him, making his chest ache, choking him for a moment. Just then Gabrielle sighed and shifted in her sleep, wisps of blond hair stirring slightly on her naked shoulder. Xena tilted her head, pressing her cheek to Gabrielle's forehead; and Ares knew that some of the tenderness he felt was for Gabrielle, too.

"I understand," he said.

She gave him a puzzled look, and he nodded toward Gabrielle. Xena's lips tightened, her face clouding over with doubt.

"You know," she said, "this is crazy."

"Completely crazy." He grinned at her. "All of it. You and me, you and her -- the three of us -- "

His words trailed off into a quiet that filled with sounds from outside: a scattering of birdsong, a splash of wind in the trees. Xena's look was still thoughtful and a little distant, yet almost serene.

"You actually think it can work," she said.

"Why not?" Ares touched the back of his hand to her cheek. "We can all settle down here, fix up the place -- raise chickens -- get a dog -- have a dozen kids -- "

"Stop that." She tugged at his ear.

"Ow. All right -- we don't have to raise chickens."

Xena chuckled indulgently. "You are crazy."

"It can work." He paused. "Just one thing..."

"What?" She glanced at him a little anxiously.

"Will I still have you all to myself once in a while?"

She didn't smile; but there was relief in her eyes, and warmth and a bit of mischief.

"I think -- that can be arranged."

Xena raised her head and kissed him, tugging gently at his lower lip as she pulled away, and he wanted her right now; and then Gabrielle moved with a sleepy little moan and turned on her back and opened her eyes.

A swirl of dust mites shimmered before her in a burst of sunlight. Looking away, Gabrielle saw the patched-up brownish blanket and the coarse, unpainted wooden floor; this was definitely not her house in Athens. Then she felt Xena's warmth next to her, and remembered.

She was in bed with Xena and Ares.

She had done it -- gods -- she couldn't believe she had actually done it. Xena -- what was she going to say to Xena now? She couldn't believe it at first when the idea first came to her, back in Athens -- that they could all be together and maybe that was the way to make it work -- she couldn't believe that she would even think of such a thing -- and now -- and now, here she was.

Her chest tight with panic, Gabrielle turned to Xena; her face was tender and worried and her eyes the lightest misty blue, and she looked as if she wanted to smile but didn't quite dare to. Ares darted his eyes away and then, after a moment, give Gabrielle a rather sheepish look. She realized that the blanket had slipped down to her waist; her face flushed with heat, especially when she remembered that he had touched her breasts, had planted light hot kisses on her nipples -- and she blushed even more when Xena pulled up the blanket for her.

Gabrielle sat up, clutching at the blanket, and pressed her other hand to her face, covering her eyes, rubbing her forehead. It felt like remembering a drinking binge the morning after -- except that her memories weren't foggy, they were jumbled but sharp and clear ... looking through the window into the dusky house to see Ares taking a piece of food from Xena's fingers, and the steaming bowls on the table -- ridiculously, heartbreakingly domestic ?- enough to make her feel like an intruder, to make her want, for one dizzy instant, to turn back to Athens. The way Xena had looked at her later, with such quiet intensity in her eyes that it was unbearable -- until I'm lost, and then it seems that death is near me... The three of them in the bedroom, staring at each other -- the thumps of her own boots falling on the floor -- the moment when she and Xena sank down on the bed and it didn't matter that Ares was there, it would always feel right being in Xena's arms no matter what ... except that Ares was there and it did matter -- their eyes had met while they were both kissing Xena's breasts, their hands had touched while sliding over Xena's body... She remembered how it had both frightened and excited her to see Xena so out of control -- how stirred and helpless and confused she had felt watching Xena and Ares make love -- how, the warm glow of pleasure ebbing slowly inside her, she suddenly cringed at the thought that Ares had seen her like this, had seen her and Xena share something that was supposed to be theirs, only theirs ... how, somewhere in the whirl of things going through her mind, the thought had taken shape that she and Ares should be with each other, too.

It had felt so odd, to be in his arms -- to feel the awkward gentleness of his hands on her back, the hardness of his chest against her breasts -- to put her hand on him and feel him pulse under her touch ... odd because she wasn't in love with him -- and yet she did love him in a way, enough to want to give him pleasure, enough to be moved by his helpless, shocked response to her. And still, after all that, she had been taken aback when she realized what Ares wanted to do -- when she felt his mouth on her thighs, the startling roughness of his beard and mustache on her skin... she had backed away from him at first -- she was still too sensitive and his touch made her wince, but it wasn't just that... suddenly it was as if he wanted to take something from her that she wasn't willing to give. She turned to Xena and saw her worried look, and took her hand and held it; and then Ares soothed her with small kisses until she relaxed and opened up to him, and Xena moved closer to kiss her forehead and stroke her hair, and she sighed and closed her eyes in willing surrender.

Now it was morning, and sunlight was seeping in through her fingers, and she felt Xena lay a hand on her back a bit gingerly, the warmth of her palm spreading under her skin. Gabrielle sighed and opened her eyes, taking her hand away from her face. She turned toward Xena and Ares; they were both looking at her expectantly, nervously, as if waiting for her judgment. At that moment she knew that she didn't regret it; in some way that she could only begin to grasp, she felt even closer to Xena than before -- and, after all the anger and bitterness between her and Ares, she could look at him now and feel something like love. Light-headed with relief and with the sheer strangeness of it all, Gabrielle gave a short, half-sobbing laugh; Xena and Ares both looked startled, and then she grinned and they were grinning too, and Xena sat up and hugged her and everything really was all right.

Or maybe not yet, because now someone had to get out of bed first. The three of them exchanged a long uncertain look. Finally, Ares threw the blanket aside, and Gabrielle's first instinct was to look away but she kept her eyes on him -- she could look at him now, couldn't she? Did she want to -- ? As he got up, the sweat on his body glistened in the sun, and she noticed that he was half-erect; her nerve failed her and she blushed, especially when she looked up and their eyes met, and Ares cleared his throat and turned away. He looked around, and Gabrielle realized that his pants were on the floor by her side of the bed. She reached down and picked them up; then she froze for a moment, not sure what to do. Xena took the pants from her and tossed them to Ares, and he slipped into them, still avoiding her eyes.

"I'll get water for the bath," he said.

"Hmm." Xena nodded rather distractedly. "Good idea."

Then he was gone and the two of them were left alone, and Gabrielle's mouth went dry. They both sat up, and she realized just how much she did need a bath; she felt muggy and sweat-glazed, her hair limp. Xena was looking at her with a kind of puzzlement, and before she could speak Gabrielle said, "I'm okay .... with everything." She paused. "Are you?"

Xena looked lost for words. "I -- "

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like -- you dragged my soul into some horrible pit of darkness." She dropped her voice to a mock-tragic sing-song and made a spooky face. Xena grinned in spite of herself, but the grin faded quickly; she winced a little, as if Gabrielle had stumbled on a painful truth, and looked away.

"No. Look at me, Xena." Gabrielle reached out and touched Xena's cheek, turning her head so that Xena would face her. "I am ... I am the keeper of my soul. I know what I'm doing... I know what I want."

"You're making breakfast?"

Xena broke another egg and poured it into the bowl. Then she turned and looked at Ares. He was grinning at her, slightly breathless, wiping the sweat from his face -- he had been busy hauling the water and tending to the horses while she had taken a quick bath. It felt good to see him like this. Maybe in a few weeks or a few days it would all go to Tartarus. But for now --

"Yeah," she said.

Ares picked up a jug from the table and took a few gulps, the water trickling down his beard and dripping down his chest. "You want to give her food poisoning for her homecoming?" he said, catching his breath.

"Homecoming," she whispered. It was strange, to think of Gabrielle coming home, of any of them having a home. But that wasn't really what he meant.

Xena turned back, stirring the eggs with a wooden spoon as Ares came up behind her and put his arm around her waist.

"Fried eggs, cheese and bread," she said. "You can't go too wrong with that."

Ares rested his head on her shoulder and she felt his body against her, his breath on her neck, the cool wetness of the water on his skin.

"You can," he said, his voice husky.

She leaned back into him, rubbing his bare foot with hers, closing her eyes for a moment before she snapped herself out of it and stood up straight. Behind the wall in the small room where Gabrielle was bathing, she could hear the water splash and Gabrielle's feet plop down on the floor.

"Get me the frying pan, will ya?"

"Hey." Ares moved back a little. "Was it something I said?"

She chuckled and elbowed him lightly in the chest. "I wouldn't need a frying pan."

Just as Xena put the skillet down on the hot stove, the door creaked open and she looked up to see Gabrielle step into the daylight, wearing a knee-length olive-green dress embroidered with golden thread.

"I'm done." She glanced at Ares and added a little awkwardly, "Next?"

"That would be me," he said.

Gabrielle smiled and pushed back her damp hair, her face and her bare arms glowing with freshness. She looked young and lithe and lovely; and Xena felt so many things at once that she had to turn away.

She picked up the spoon and poked at the bubbling egg mix in the pan. Out of the corner of an eye, she saw Ares pick up the bucket with the water warmed up for his bath, walk to the door and close it behind him. She could hear Gabrielle walking around the cramped kitchen, aimlessly moving the jars and bowls on the table, as if this place really were her new home and she were trying to get used to it. Finally Gabrielle came up to her and asked, "Need some help?"

"No -- no, I've got it under control." Xena shook her head. "Listen -- I'm sorry I haven't been helping enough all these years -- "

Gabrielle smiled faintly. "Come on, Xena, it's not like you were slacking off. We both know this isn't one of your many skills -- "

"No, it's not just that. I took you for granted."

"You did not."

"Gabrielle, look -- I wanted to tell you...." All this time since she had woken up, something vague had been churning inside her -- something she had to say to Gabrielle. "I want you to know that I never wanted you to be any different than you are..." She paused. "I could never want -- anything more than you've given me."

She half expected Gabrielle to say, "But it wasn't enough -- you still wanted Ares..." But Gabrielle said nothing; she nodded and stroked Xena's shoulder, smiling a little smile that said, I know.

And then, before she could think, Xena blurted out, "Why do you love me?"

There was surprise in Gabrielle's face, but only for a moment; and then only love.

"Xena..." She sighed, and said simply, "You have a good heart."

Xena felt an odd dizzy lightness inside, as if she could faint, or fly. After a moment Gabrielle reached up and ran her thumb over Xena's cheek, and Xena realized she was wiping off a tear. She raised a hand, letting her fingertips rest on Gabrielle's wrist, feeling the gentle beat of her pulse.

She rescued the eggs just in time.

As Xena put the frying pan down on the table, the scroll Gabrielle had given her -- the poem -- caught her eye; it was balanced precariously on the table's edge, as if it could tip over at any moment. She moved it back, the breath catching in her throat; and then she knew what else she needed to tell Gabrielle.

The saddlebag was in the next room; it took only a few moments of hurried digging to find the scroll. Back in the kitchen, Gabrielle stood at the table slicing the cheese, her wet hair and her shoulders touched by the sun. Xena came closer and stopped, no longer sure of herself, fear prickling at her back; her first impulse when Gabrielle turned around was to hide the scroll behind her back, like some schoolgirl with a love note. But she held it out.

"It's for you," she said. "It's -- it's... I -- " She wanted to say, "I got you a poem, too," but that felt so stupid -- as if it was some kind of exchange.

"Let me see."

She didn't move; Gabrielle took the scroll from her hand and unrolled it. After a moment Gabrielle raised her eyes. There was helplessness in her face, and she spoke in a near-whisper. "A poem?"

Suddenly, she needed to explain. "I got it in Athens..."

A slight twitch ran across Gabrielle's face. "Athens..." she breathed out, and Xena cursed herself for mentioning it -- but then the shadow passed, and Gabrielle was smiling.

"You got me a poem..."

"Funny, huh?. I bet you weren't even sure I could read." She tried to grin but quickly gave up. "Gabrielle -- you know I'm not good with words -- but when I saw this -- "

Gabrielle put a hand on her arm. "It's all right... you don't have to explain -- "

She looked down at the scroll again, and Xena couldn't look away; not even when Gabrielle began to read, her voice falling lower still.

Some say an army on foot, or upon

Horses or fleet ships

Is on this black earth the fairest sight;

But I say: it is the one you love...

Her voice choked off and she read the rest in silence, absent-mindedly swiping the tears from her eyes.

When she was done, she looked up again and murmured, "Xena, I don't know what to -- " She trailed off, shaking her head a little. "It's the most beautiful -- "

And at that moment it was the most important thing in the world, to have Gabrielle look at her like that.

Something made Xena shift her eyes, and she saw that the door to the next room was ajar and Ares was looking at them, his face still wet from the bath and lit up by a quiet warmth like a hidden smile. She wondered how much he had heard. Gabrielle turned and saw him, too; and somehow, this moment between them was not shattered.

Then Gabrielle rolled up the scroll and put it aside, and Ares stepped out into the kitchen, the cotton pants clinging to his damp skin, the dagger pendant on his chest gleaming sharply in the sun. Birds chattered outside. Xena suddenly realized that the fried eggs were getting cold, and that she was getting ravenously hungry.

"Let's eat," she said.

They sat down, and as Gabrielle helped herself to the fried eggs and Ares poured apple cider into his mug, he looked up and said, "You know, we'd better set down some rules around here. No mushy poetry before breakfast."

Gabrielle wrinkled her nose at him. "All right then -- only after breakfast. And for the rest of the day."

Sunrise was near when they left the farm; the sky had turned a bluish white, with a flush of deep pink spreading over the hills. The past few days had been hot, and Xena had wanted to leave early so that they could put in a few hours of riding before the sun became too scorching.

They rode side by side with Xena in the middle. It was good to see her in her leathers and armor again, with the chakram at her belt and the sword at her back. When Ares glanced at her, she seemed lost in thought; once, he saw her turn her head and look at the farmhouse when it was still within sight. In the dawn's light, her face looked soft and her eyes were very clear.

Six days had passed since Gabrielle's return. By some unspoken agreement, they had stayed on the farm, fixing up the place. By an equally unspoken agreement, it was understood that they would come back here on occasion; maybe even, at some point, settle down here for good -- though at the moment, the idea of settling down anywhere seemed unreal ... as unreal as the idea that he was a god once. With that in mind, an impressive brand-new padlock acquired from the local blacksmith was slapped on the door as they were leaving; arrangements had been made for a neighbor to keep an eye on the property.

They had spent those six days together; working together, eating together (Gabrielle had quietly taken over most of the cooking), and for the next two nights after the first time, sleeping together as well. Finally, Ares had taken the initiative and told Xena and Gabrielle that they probably wanted some time alone, hoping that Gabrielle would return the favor the next night. She did.

Now, they were heading south, with no specific purpose in mind; Xena would eventually find a mission, no doubt, or the mission would find her.

"Look." Gabrielle pointed to a flare of orange above the black treetops of a distant forest. "The sun's coming up."

"Yeah," Xena said, the corner of her mouth curving in a small smile.

They rode at a slow trot down a grassy hillside. The wind whooshed in a sparse grove nearby and ruffled Xena's hair; she swept it back, baring her shoulder, and Ares' chest tightened as memories from the past nights swarmed in his mind.

At the bottom of the hill, a peasant girl was driving a flock of sheep out to pasture, a large black dog running at her side; the faint din of bleating and barking rippled through the early-morning quiet, gradually growing louder. As they came closer, the shepherd, a freckled-faced blonde in a blue dress, gaped at them with unabashed curiosity and perhaps a touch of awe.

They passed a sleepy village huddled in the distance and rode on as the sun rose and heat filled the air. After a while, Gabrielle suggested a rest stop, and Xena pointed out a shady spot under a great oak.

They stopped under the tree, and Ares watched Xena dismount in a swift, graceful motion. Out of the corner of an eye, he noticed that Gabrielle was watching her, too. Xena stretched a little, and then looked up at them and smiled.

"Come on," she said.

Mortal life was good.



THE END