By Morgan
This story contains scenes of graphic sex between a man and a woman. If you are under 18 or if this is illegal where you live, please go away.
Hercules/Iolaus belong to Universal Studios and Pacific Renaissance and no copyright infringement is intended. The author is just having fun.
This is my answer to Ronan’s Challenge: "Take your favourite character from the show and bring them forward in time to the present day".
He hit the ground, rolled and sprang to his feet. His head was still spinning. He looked around, disoriented. It was dark. To his left there was a row of lights…it didn’t look like torchlight, though. The ground beneath his feet was stone…to his right was water: a river? A lake? Well, he seemed to be alone. Iolaus sank to his knees as another wave of dizziness struck.
"Are you all right?"
The voice was female, and he looked up. All he could see was a silhouette against the night sky. She offered a hand and he took it, allowing her to help him up. "Are you all right?" she asked again.
"Uh, yeah." Iolaus shook his head to clear it. "Look, I know this is going to sound weird, but, where am I?"
She began to walk, he fell into step beside her. The look she gave him was more concerned than confused. "Hyde Park," she said. "That’s the Serpentine." She pointed to the lake beside them. "And there’s the Royal Albert Hall. I’ve just come from the concert there."
Iolaus didn’t understand a word.
"Hyde Park?" she said again, seeing his confusion. "London." Iolaus shook his head. "What happened to you? You get mugged or something?"
"What happened?" That question he at least understood. What *had* happened? "I was with my friend Hercules… in Argolis. We were…" Slowly it came back to him. "We were fighting Ares! He nearly had Herc down, so I jumped him. Stupid. He threw me into the wall and hit me with some sort of lightening bolt. I felt myself falling… and the next minute I find myself here with you." He looked around again. Absolutely nothing looked familiar. "I guess this isn’t Argolis."
"Let me get this straight." The woman stopped walking, turned to look at him. "You’re telling me you were with Hercules. As in Greek hero, son of Zeus?"
"Yeah."
"And you were fighting Ares. As in God of War?"
"That’s right." Iolaus was strangely relieved. At least this wasn’t another weird, parallel dimension.
"So who are you? Perseus? Jason, maybe? Or…I’ve got it! You’re Ulysses." She was laughing.
"I’m Iolaus."
She threw up her hands with a sound of exasperation. "Well, I’ve never heard of you. Geez, this is what I get for walking through the park at night. Which asylum did you escape from?" She quickened her pace, walking away from him.
Iolaus was going to let her go. Then he saw a figure step silently out of the shadows as she approached. The figure grabbed the woman’s arm, pulling her against him, holding a gleaming knife at her throat. "No, sweetheart, *this* is what you get for being in the park at night. Let’s see what you’ve got for me, eh? Get out of here, Blondie." That last was directed at Iolaus.
He tensed, ready for action. "What are you going to do?" he asked, putting on his best stupid face, playing for time.
"Me an’ miss rich bitch ’ere are gonna have ourselves a par-tee," the thug said. He squeezed one of her tits as he spoke, just in case she didn’t get the point.
She squirmed in his arms but couldn’t free herself. Her movements provided the distraction Iolaus needed. The moment the thug’s eyes left him Iolaus hit him with a spinning kick. The woman broke out of the thug’s hold as he doubled over in pain. Iolaus made a grab for the knife, twisted it out of the thug’s hand and punched him again, throwing him to the ground. The thug lay there, unmoving.
"Too easy." Iolaus tossed the knife into the Serpentine. "Are you alright?" he asked her.
She stared down at the unconscious man. "I…I’m fine." Iolaus touched her arm tentatively and she turned to him with a smile. "Thank you."
"Think nothing of it."
"Well, whoever you are. You just saved me from a very unpleasant night. Do you have anywhere to go?"
Iolaus shook his head. "I’ve gotta find some way of getting back to Herc. He must think Ares killed me. But I don’t even know where I am."
"Come on. You can stay at my place tonight. It’s not far."
Iolaus couldn’t do anything but follow her. The more he saw of this world, the more worried he became. He could just about put names to things: road, house, gate, door… but nothing looked right. Yet she had known who he meant when he mentioned Hercules. Hadn’t she?
And the lights. No way were those torches (?) lit by fire. The light was too bright, too harsh. Looking into the sky and seeing the same, familiar moon just made it feel even more strange. All he could do, Iolaus decided, was go along with this until he found out where the hell he was. Or until Herc found some way to get him back. If Herc knew he was alive, that is.
She led him through a door and up a steep flight of steps, telling him apologetically that the "lift" was broken: a comment he didn’t dare do other than ignore. Four flights of steps later, they came to another door, which she opened and led him inside.
"Make yourself at home," she called over her shoulder, as she removed her cloak (?) and walked on inside. "I’ll make coffee."
Iolaus had seen some strange things in his life, but this! It was obviously some sort of house, but the decor felt like… well, like something Aphrodite might dream up. The floor beneath his feet was cushioned, the walls were softly lit. There was something he could only call a chair, but covered with material so soft, so plush. A sheepskin rug was spread out on the floor. Iolaus wasn’t sure he would dare to touch anything.
After a few moments the woman returned, handing him a mug of hot liquid. "It’s Columbian," she said.
Iolaus accepted the mug, trying not to stare at her. She was wearing a gown of red silk, which reached almost to the floor behind, but the skirt was cut open at the front, revealing her legs as she walked. The top covered her whole chest, but the material clung to her contours so he could see just about everything through it. Her arms were bare: she wore jewels at her wrists. Her lips were painted the exact shade of her gown, her eyes delicately made up with khol. Her hair was black, about shoulder length and pinned back, with a few curls escaping onto her cheeks.
He took a sip of the hot liquid to have somewhere else to look. The bitter taste was a welcome distraction. This woman was being kind, and he really needed help: he didn’t want to spoil it. He looked up with a tentative smile. "I told you my name. What’s yours?"
"I’m Elizabeth Ashworth. Beth to my friends. What was your name, again?"
"Iolaus…Beth."
"We’re still on that? Pull the other one." Beth rose abruptly, crossing the room to a cupboard, which she opened. "Let’s see…" she muttered to herself, rummaging around. After a few moments she emerged with something in her hand. "Knew I had it somewhere," she said. She opened the book and flicked through the pages. "Hey!" she exclaimed suddenly.
Iolaus was watching her, not quite sure how to respond to this.
"Says here Iolaus was the nephew of Hercules. Helped him kill the Lernaean Hydra. Sailed with the Argonauts."
"That’s right. Except I’m not related to Herc. We’re just friends."
She put the book down and scrutinised him more closely. "You look the part, I guess. But you can’t really expect me to believe it."
Iolaus shrugged. This was getting weirder and weirder. "I know it sounds unbelievable. But I told you the truth."
"Hercules, if he really lived at all, lived – what? – at least two and a half thousand years ago. You’ve been watching too much television, my friend."
Iolaus’ mind reeled. Two and a half *thousand* years!?! What had Ares done to him? No wonder she thought he was insane. Hey, maybe he was. Iolaus sank down into the softness of the chair. Suddenly he felt too weak to stand
"Take it easy," Beth said softly. She took his hand and sat beside him. "I’m sorry."
"Sorry?"
She was frowning. "I don’t know if you’re telling the truth. Maybe we’re both nuts. But it’s obvious *you* believe your story. I shouldn’t have said what I did."
"I’ve got to find some way to get back."
"No problem. We’ll just call HG Wells and borrow his time machine." She caught Iolaus’ expression and smiled wryly. "I’m sorry, again. That was meant to be a joke."
"I didn’t get it."
"I know. Why don’t you get some sleep. We’ll try to figure out what to do in the morning."
"By the gods, I don’t know what to do." Iolaus shook his head in despair.
She reached out for him, stroked his hair. "Try not to worry about it." She leaned closer to him.
Iolaus looked up into her eyes, wondering if he was reading the signals right. She had narrowly escaped rape less than an hour ago… He turned his head and kissed the inside of her wrist. When she didn’t pull away, he took her hand in his, drawing it to his lips and kissed her palm, and the tip of each finger in turn. Beth smiled at him and moved closer, kissing him on the lips. Her lips opened beneath his and he felt the gentle invasion of her tongue in his mouth. As they kissed she snuggled close to him; he put his arms around her, holding her close. Beneath his hands her silk gown felt wonderfully soft, her flesh beneath it warm and firm. He slid one hand around to stroke her breast, and found the nipple erect. She moaned softly against his mouth, and pulled away from him a little.
Beth stared into his eyes for a long, silent moment. "What the hell," she whispered. "It’s been a while. And I’d like to know how a two thousand year old man makes love."
Iolaus bent to kiss her neck, happy to oblige. She was wearing some sort of perfume, spicy with an undertone of musk. He left a trail of kisses from her chin to the edge of her neckline, and from there found her ear, telling her quietly, between kisses, "I’m not that old. It's my friend who's half god."
Her hands slipped beneath his ragged vest, caressing his hard, muscular body before slipping the vest from his shoulders. She pushed him back gently and began to kiss his chest, working her way down to his stomach, slowly, her lips and tongue teasing every possible sensation from him. She knelt on the floor between his legs, reaching for his boots. Deftly she removed them, and let her hands wander over his feet, then took his hands and pulled him up.
Iolaus stood close to her, slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her full on the lips, a kiss that held all the passion he could give. Beth guided his hands to the neck of her gown, showing him how to unfasten it. He got the idea quickly, and moments later the folds of red silk lay around her feet. She wore nothing beneath. Iolaus caught his breath at his first sight of her naked body. She was quite perfect. But he wanted to do much more than just look.
Beth stepped toward him, kicking her gown out of the way. Her hands went to the fastenings of his trousers. She took her time, slipping a hand inside to caress his hard manhood before she pulled the heavy leather down. He stepped out of the trousers and it was her turn to gasp. Naked he was a vision. His body, compact and muscular with not a scrap of surplus fat, was tanned golden. He was an athlete, at least. Not as tall as she usually liked her men, but it didn’t matter. Beth intended to enjoy this. She loved the masculine smell of him, the feel of his callused hands on her skin, the gentleness of this man who clearly knew how to play rough, but would not. She knelt in front of him and took his hard, proud manhood into her mouth.
The gesture was as unexpected as it was pleasurable. Iolaus gasped as he felt her moist warmth around his penis. Her hands were on his buttocks, pulling him closer to her. He felt a gentle suction and moaned, giving himself up to the wonderful sensations. She paused, resting her head against his thigh. Iolaus joined her on the floor, pushing her back onto the sheepskin. He reached to take one of those perfect breasts in his hand, stroking and kneading it gently, then bent to kiss it. He took her tightly beaded nipple into his mouth, grazing it lightly with his teeth, and teased it with this tongue. She arched her back, pushing her breast toward him, and he began to suckle, rewarded with a sweet moan of pleasure.
Iolaus moved lower, covering her taut belly with kisses and with his hand reached for the silken mound of hair between her thighs. She moaned and parted her legs. Iolaus knelt between her open thighs and his fingers parted the tender lips of her most private part. She shivered in anticipation of his touch and he made her wait, kissing and caressing the inside of her thighs. Unable to resist for longer, he dipped his head and tasted her, his playful tongue teasing the tiny, throbbing nodule that was her centre of pleasure.
"Oh, my god," Beth moaned. She moved her hips, reached for his head and held him to her. Encouraged, Iolaus continued the action with his fingers, thrilled by her response. Her breath was coming in little panting moans, she was close to her climax. Iolaus shifted his position so he could enter her. She felt his hot manhood against her sex and lifted her legs to guide him inside, deeper. As he entered her for the first time, she came, crying out her pleasure.
Iolaus bit his lip, fighting for control as she clung to him, her warm channel pulsing around him with her orgasm. He began to move, with her rhythm, thrusting as hard and deep as he knew she wanted. Her fingernails raked across his back as he thrust, and he buried his face in the curve of her neck, revelling in her embrace. He reached for her breast with his fingers and she cried out again. Control was lost to him. Iolaus abandoned himself to rapture, plunging into her as her body convulsed in his arms again. Groaning, he came, his seed spilling into her as the tide of glorious release washed over him.
"You know," she breathed finally, "you could have told me you were Hercules. Right now, I’d believe you were a god."
Sleep claimed them both, finally, as dawn began to break over London. Iolaus, his body’s rhythm attuned to the rising and setting of the sun rather than some artificial clock, could not sleep long. He lay alongside Beth, in the bed where they’d ended up, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she slept, and wondered again how he was supposed to get back where he belonged. But, he found, he was not worried. Somewhere between meeting Beth in the "park" last night, and waking beside her this morning, Iolaus had developed a quiet confidence that everything would turn out right. Herc would work out what had happened. Herc would find some way to get him back. All Iolaus had to do was wait. And, with luck, enjoy the waiting.
Eventually, thirst drove him from her bed, and he dressed quickly before looking around for some water. All he could find was the mug of coffee he’d abandoned the previous night… and it didn’t taste any better cold. Still, it was liquid, and despite the bitter taste it didn’t seem harmful. He returned to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed, and smiled to himself as she began to stir.
Iolaus bent his head to kiss her as her eyes fluttered open. She turned toward him, the bedsheets fell away exposing one perfect breast to his view. He smiled at the sight and reached out to touch it. His hands flowed over the contours of her body, her slender arms, the curves of her waist and hips. He covered her face with light kisses and when he reached her mouth she opened her lips, returning his kiss with passion.
"What a way to wake up," Beth murmured. She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "You’ll have to give me a minute, though." She leaned back to kiss him, then moved away, leaving Iolaus to watch her body appreciatively as she padded to her bathroom.
Before long she returned, and Iolaus, who had spent those few minutes planning exactly what he wanted to do with her, stood to take her in his arms.
But before he could touch her, a wave of disorientation overtook him and he sat down heavily, clutching his head between his hands as if that could stop the room spinning. It didn’t work, and he felt himself falling. It seemed to take forever.
He hit the ground with a thud. For a moment he didn’t dare move. Then he opened his eyes, pushing himself to his knees, hearing a very familiar voice:
"Iolaus? Are you OK?"
Iolaus raised his head as Hercules spoke. He glanced around. Yeah, he was back where they’d started. And a very annoyed-looking god of war lounged against the pillar a few feet away from him.
"Well, brother?" Ares snarled at Hercules. "Are we even?"
"This time," Hercules agreed grimly, and Ares vanished in a glittering burst of red light.
Slowly, Iolaus got to his feet.
"You OK?" Hercules said again.
Iolaus thought about that. Finally, he sighed dramatically. "Yeah, Herc, I’m fine." He gave his friend a regretful grin. "But your timing sucks."