Sliding Chakrams

by Jennifer Campbell

None of the characters belong to me. If they did, Joxer and Gabrielle would be together. I make no profit off this, unfortunately.

This story was inspired by the movie "Sliding Doors." Because my Xena video collection does not include "Callisto," I also need to thank the Transcript Project, which is where I found the script. Much of the basic plot also belongs to TPTB.

A really big thanks goes out to all my betas: Nancy, Brisco, Greg, Kawcrow, Phil and Rebecca. Another thank you goes to my sister Kate, who cheers me on and keeps my head from getting too big -- as if that'll ever happen. This is rated PG-13 for lots of angst and a dash of blood and guts.

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"No one expects the Spanish Inquisition."
-- Monty Python

A reject from the Athenian circus -- or maybe a warrior wannabe who took a wrong turn. Those possibilities immediately came to the innkeeper's mind as he watched the stranger enter his establishment. He took one look at the comical figure and repeated his years-old vow to sell the hostel and retire someplace that banned weirdos.

The stranger straightened his lean, tall frame, adjusted his helmet and marched toward the bar with one hand resting on his sword hilt. He glared at the drunken patrons, as if daring them to issue a challenge -- although the innkeeper knew, at most, his customers might offer up some loud burps -- and reached the bar in a clatter of armor.

"Hello there, my good man," the stranger said. "I would like a mug of your strongest beer. And make sure it's strong. Warriors like me get angry and violent when we're served anything less."

The innkeeper snorted and poured a mug of the only type of beer he had and set it on the bartop, just out of the man's reach. "Money first," he said.

"Um, money. Right. Of course." The stranger began hunting through his clothes and pockets. "Wait, wait ... I'm sure I've got it in here somewhere. Ah-HA!"

He produced a dull, dented coin and tossed it in the air. It landed on the bartop and spun a few times on its side before coming to rest.

"Heads up," the stranger commented. "That means good luck."

The innkeeper snorted again, slid the mug across to the stranger and returned to his task of sorting glasses. Hopefully, the innkeeper thought, a beer was all this guy wanted.

The stranger cleared his throat loudly, drawing strange looks from some of the patrons. "I am Joxer. A great warrior," he said. "And I am here to offer this town my protection."

A warrior wannabe, indeed. The innkeeper glanced at the stranger and scowled. "If you're a warrior, then I'm the king of Thrace."

Joxer's eyebrows shot up to his helmet. "You mean you've never heard of me? My reputation is known throughout all of Greece." He leaned conspiratorially across the bartop and whispered loudly. "And just between you and me, this town needs some protection. There are a lot of strange people on the roads these days."

"Like you?" the innkeeper asked. A couple of the patrons snickered over their drinks.

"Yeah, like ... no, not like me. I mean, I'm here to offer my services."

"Well, we don't need you."

Joxer frowned, gulped down some beer and began coughing uncontrollably. The innkeeper tried unsuccessfully not to smirk. The stranger probably didn't know one end of his sword from the other, but he sure was entertaining.

As the innkeeper prepared to turn his back on the stranger, the front door banged open and fell off its rusty hinges, inundating the dim interior with sunlight. A giant of a man, dressed in armor, stormed inside and swung an ax around his head. The innkeeper stood frozen in confusion and shock as the giant stomped into the barroom and brought the axe down on a table, breaking it into several pieces.

Great, the innkeeper thought. Another weirdo. Maybe these guys comprised a comedy duo -- the wimpy guy and the strongman. Any more surprises today and the innkeeper might have to pack up and move to Crete to live with his sister. He'd heard that Crete had beautiful weather this time of year.

He glanced at Joxer, who sat rigid, just staring at the warrior. The wannabe jumped when the innkeeper poked him in the back. "Tell you what," he said. "Get rid of that guy, and I'll hire you myself."

"Um, g-g-get rid of him?"

"Yes. Get rid of him. Preferably before he destroys any more tables. Do you know how expensive new furniture can be?"

"Um, right. I can get rid of him," Joxer said, slowly getting to his feet.

The innkeeper watched intently as Joxer approached the warrior with trembling steps. He drew his sword, and the innkeeper had to admit that the stranger had guts. Of course, he'd probably also get himself killed, but maybe he would take the warrior with him.

Joxer pointed his shaking blade at the man. "You better get out before someone gets hurt."

The warrior laughed. His ax became a blur as its blunt end smashed down on Joxer's head, and Joxer collapsed to the floor without a sound. Well, so much for plan A, the innkeeper thought. Time for plan B, if he could just figure out what plan B was.

"Everyone outside now," the warrior said. "Come out and surrender to Xena, Warrior Princess, or you will all die."

For one interminable second, no one moved. Then the drunken patrons dragged themselves to their feet and began fighting each other to get outside, and the innkeeper joined them. He had no wish to meet Hades, not yet. He tripped over the unconscious body of Joxer and regained his balance without looking back at the figure sprawled face first on the barroom floor.

The sight that met him outside was almost enough to make the innkeeper turn and run back into the inn to face the warrior's wrath. Townspeople -- people he'd known since childhood, had grown up with and shared stories with -- ran in all directions, screaming and crying. Dead bodies lay haphazardly on the ground and stained the dirt with their blood. And in the midst of the chaos stood the warriors, slicing through people as unemotionally as they would chop firewood.

The innkeeper began to tremble. Someone bumped into his back, forcing him through the doorway and onto the street, but he hardly noticed. He had to get away from here. He had to escape, avoid becoming one of the slaughtered.

He turned toward the forest that backed his inn, but before he ran more than a few steps, he felt a dreadful pain shoot through his spine and come out his front. He looked down at the sword point emerging through his stomach, and the world slowly faded. Well, maybe he'd meet Hades this day, after all.

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Joxer snapped back to consciousness and wished he had stayed in his dream world. The warrior stood over him with a grim smile, ax in one hand and a torch in the other. Joxer ordered his body to move out from under the warrior's heavy boots, but his limbs refused to obey, and he simply lay with an expression of dumb terror on his face.

The warrior laughed and threw the torch over Joxer's head. It landed with a dull thud a few feet behind him.

"You aren't even worth killing," the warrior growled. He laughed again, turned and left the tavern.

The warrior's departure released Joxer from his immobility, and he scrambled to his feet. A quick glance confirmed that the torch already had transformed the broken table into a small inferno. Shielding his face from the heat, he grabbed his sword from the floor and dashed for the front door, only to find the warrior waiting just outside.

"I changed my mind," the warrior said, grinning evilly. "I think I will kill you after all."

Well, Joxer thought, the guy could always try to kill him. But Joxer the Magnificent would never lose to such a barbarian. He lifted his sword with both hands, stepped forward and suddenly found himself slipping on the muddy ground. He fell hard on his butt, and the warrior's ax hummed as it sliced through the air where his neck had been only moments before.

Joxer trembled slightly and swallowed hard. Great warriors fought when necessary, but they also knew when to withdraw from the field. Joxer pulled himself to his knees and crawled away from the warrior's next stroke, which buried itself in the muddy ground just beyond his heels. He scurried around the corner of the inn and looked over his shoulder, sighing in relief when he saw that the warrior had vanished into the chaotic scene.

Maybe he should go back. Maybe he should draw his sword and face the enemy like a true hero, rally the villagers and save the day! Then again, the villagers seemed more interested in screaming and running than fighting. And if he did enter into the fray, he'd face a whole army of butchers -- not good odds. He'd die for a lost cause, which would put a serious hamper on any future conquests. No, better to stay here and watch. And live.

His decision made, Joxer huddled into his sanctuary. He felt bile rise in his throat when he noticed the bloody corpse of the innkeeper only a few feet away, the dead eyes staring at the sky. He screwed his own eyes shut, trying to banish the vision, but then carefully peeked out. The body refused to vanish -- the man really had died, then. Joxer leaned over and spewed his breakfast all over the ground.

He looked up again as he heard wild screaming and shrunk farther into the shadows, trying to melt into the wall at his back. A woman rode into view, seated upon a magnificent horse, but it was the woman herself who drew Joxer's attention. A blonde banshee in black leather, she watched as a villager successfully fought off one of the warriors. She grinned, tossed her hair and slid smoothly from her horse.

"Run, woman," the villager yelled. "They're trying to kill us all!"

"Trying?" the woman said, her voice hard and emotionless, an eerie contrast to her wide, excited eyes. "I think we're succeeding."

Joxer watched in fascination as she ran her sword through the villager's neck. Oh, she possessed power, Joxer thought. Power and charisma. Something within him screamed out in revulsion, but part of him knew that he could follow this warrior to the ends of the earth and be happy doing it.

The banshee looked around and spotted one of her men with his sword at the neck of an old woman. "Stop!" she yelled.

The warrior held back his blade as the woman approached.

"Let her live," she said to her man, before turning to the village woman. "You, old crone, tell the world what we did here. Let them know what devastation awaits anyone who defies me."

From Joxer's vantage point, it looked as though the old woman cringed and huddled back into herself. "Who are you?" she asked.

The banshee smiled and giggled -- a sound so devoid of sanity that Joxer felt chilled -- and he pitied the old woman.

"I'm Xena," she answered gleefully. "Warrior Princess."

Joxer subconsciously shook his head and frowned. This woman certainly would give Xena a run for her money, but she wasn't the Warrior Princess. Joxer had heard stories of the dark-haired beauty named Xena, an evil woman who had changed her ways after meeting Hercules. Stories varied and evolved, and Joxer figured he'd heard almost every version of Xena's conversion, but one fact remained constant: The Warrior Princess now fought to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

Whatever name this woman claimed, she was not Xena.

Joxer stumbled from the inn and toward the forest, away from the slaughter. To stay any longer would be to invite the army to find and kill him, too. Besides, even a great warrior could take only so much blood, and Joxer had seen more than his fill of death for one day.

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Joxer measured his time in the forest by his bruises. He tripped over five roots and banged his head into six branches before he spotted the road. He then stepped on two spine-covered plants before he reached the road.

With little regard for his wounded feet, he ran to catch a group of hopeless-looking refugees who trudged down the road in silence, heads bowed as if they did not possess the energy to notice the world around them. With a curious combination of pity and disdain, Joxer joined their ranks on the road to nowhere.

The group attracted other refugees along the way, but Joxer noticed that they passed no one going back toward the devastated town, back toward the banshee's army. Which was why the two figures moving closer to them, instead of farther away, interested him so much. The figures drew closer, and Joxer squinted to see them better -- one was tall and dark, and the other almost seemed to radiate light. An interesting pair, he thought.

And women. They were women, with weapons, he realized. Maybe two Amazons had strayed from their normal hunting grounds. No, wait. That light one, she's no Amazon. And the dark one, that's Xena! She has to be. She's come to clear her name!

The women passed the refugees with wary expressions. They began talking quietly, but Joxer couldn't make out the words. Xena supposedly was an intelligent woman. She undoubtedly would be overjoyed to have someone of Joxer's talents join her in her quest. Well, he'd had enough of this silent band, anyway. With a deep breath, he broke away from the group and ran to catch up with the women.

"Xena!" he yelled, as he drew close enough to get their attention.

The dark one stopped. "Yeah?"

"Joxer the Mighty. At your service."

Xena looked over him once, scowled and muttered something that Joxer didn't catch.

"You know, a warrior needs ..." He looked around, realized they'd passed around him again, and turned to follow. "Wait! Listen! Don't diss me just because I was traveling so cheap. I can be of invaluable service to a woman like you." Xena raised her eyebrows, and Joxer nodded. "Yeah. As a matter of fact, um, I'm a warrior of some repute --"

"I've never heard of you," interjected the light one, and Joxer looked more closely at her for the first time. She was hardly more than a kid, probably just tagging along with Xena for a few kicks. Hmmm. Nothing but a road block, really.

Joxer pushed her aside. "I wasn't talking to you, little girl."

He dismissed her angry reply and returned his attention to Xena, who was really the woman he had to impress. And when it came to boasting of warrior-like deeds, no one could compete with Joxer the Articulate.

"Now, listen," he said. "I'm fierce, and I have a lust for blood. As a matter of fact, if a couple of days go by an' I haven't shed some blood, I get very depressed. Blood 'n me go together like a horse and chariot. I once bathed in a tub of blood. My nickname is Bloody Joxer!"

Xena lashed out, grabbed his nose and twisted. Oh, that hurt! Joxer wriggled to break free, but her fingers clamped down like iron. He howled in pain.

"You like the sight of blood so much?" Xena whispered in his ear. "Keep talking."

He almost lost his balance as she shoved him back. He rubbed his nose and looked up, only to see the backsides of the two women moving steadily down the road.

"I'm disappointed in you, Xena!" he yelled. "I thought you'd recognize talent when you saw it!"

The Warrior Princess probably had been intimidated by his masculine prowess. Yeah, that was it. And the little blonde road block would go along with whatever Xena said. Nah, he was just too much warrior for them to handle. He'd just have to prove to Xena that the great warrior known as Joxer was not someone to dismiss so carelessly.

He waited until the women had moved almost out of sight, and then he followed them. Xena would find that more than a nose twist was needed to deter Joxer the Persistent.

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Smoke and panic filled the air in equal, suffocating proportions. Villagers ran among burning houses, away from one sword and onto the point of another. Joxer stood outside the chaos, hiding behind a supply wagon as he silently watched the repeat of the previous day's slaughter.

Except this time, the Fates had thrown a wild card into the deck. The Warrior Princess seemed to fly from one challenge to the next, her battle cry piercing through the veil of screams. She cut down raider after raider while her blonde sidekick defended herself quite well with her oversized stick.

But where was the banshee? Ah, there, riding into the street, sitting quietly on her mount and grinning insanely at the warrior whose name she had stolen. Xena threw her chakram, and the other woman's hand whipped out to catch it.

"You want it," the banshee taunted, "come and get it."

The women warriors charged each other, and Joxer decided that maybe he could find a safer vantage point than his front row seat. He crawled into the supply wagon and pulled the canvas over himself. With any luck, no one would distinguish him from the sacks of grain that he rested on and he could emerge after the battle had ended.

He lay perfectly still, listening to the clash of swords, the exchange between Xena and her challenger, and the short information-gathering session between Xena and one of the raiders. Then the raider spoke his leader's name, Callisto, and shivers shot down Joxer's spine. Callisto, who inspired fear and respect; who radiated charisma; who might succeed in her goal to kill her adversary.

The sounds of battle began to fade, and just as Joxer considered coming out, the wagon began to move. He held his breath and froze. The sound of bawdy laughter originated from the front of the wagon, only inches from his head -- undoubtedly raiders who were claiming their spoils.

Joxer sat in darkness for what seemed an eternity, listening to the men boast of how many villagers they had killed. And then, just as suddenly as the trip began, the wagon stopped and the voices vanished. Joxer licked his dry lips and shifted carefully. He slowly lowered the canvas, blinked at the bright sunlight and panicked at the three warriors staring down at him.

He laughed nervously and smiled. "Um, hi, guys."

One of the warriors stripped away the canvas and another grabbed him by his breastplate, hauling him out of the wagon with one hand. The man's other hand pulled back for a punch.

"Whoa! Hey, hold on a second!" Joxer said. He had to think fast now. "You're Callisto's men, right? Well, I have an invaluable service to offer you."

The men laughed, and his captor clenched his hand into a fist. Joxer shut his eyes and winced in anticipation.

"Wait!" one of the men said. "Let's bring this clown to Callisto and let her decide what to do with him."

They laughed again, and Joxer felt himself lifted off the ground as his captor dragged him into what looked like a fortress made of bamboo. Dozens of warriors filled the compound, and standing above them all, astride a ladder, stood Callisto, the banshee, Xena's creation and worst enemy.

His captor tugged on his armor, and Joxer unsuccessfully struggled to break free. "Ow, ow, ow!" he said. "Watch the suit, would ya?"

The warriors parted before Joxer as he was unceremoniously dragged before Callisto. OK, he thought, now's my chance. Fate has lead me here for a reason: To join Callisto's army. Yes! Finally, I find a place where I belong!

"We found this scum hiding in the supply wagon we stole from the village," said his captor. "He says he has something invaluable to offer you."

Callisto's steady stare turned to Joxer, and she cocked her head slightly. She seemed relaxed, but she probably could leap down from the ladder and have a sword at his neck before he could so much as breathe. She reminded Joxer of a wild beast deciding whether to attack now or later. Dangerous. Beautiful.

Perfect.

"Warrior Queen," he said, bowing, "um, forgive my intrusion."

"Warrior Queen," she mused, smiling slightly. "I like that."

Joxer laughed nervously. "It's so much better than Warrior Princess, you know."

"Yes, yes it is. Now what is you have to offer me?"

Well, duh, Joxer thought. "My services."

"Services, really," Callisto said, her voice bored. "And what is it exactly that you do? Hmm?"

Oh, geez, if she couldn't figure that out maybe she wasn't so smart after all. He chuckled. "What do I do? I'm a warrior."

Everyone laughed, and for the first time in his life, Joxer felt as though he were part of something. These men were sharing his amusement that their leader had asked such a silly question. Ah, the feeling of family.

"Oh, a warrior, how silly of me," Callisto answered, her voice mocking. "Then why is it, dear man, that you look like an idiot?"

An idiot? Maybe she really was insane. Oh, well. He would play along.

"Eh, I cultivate that look," Joxer answered. "It makes me seem less threatening. You see, eh, people don't fear worthless idiots, so it's easy for me to get the drop on them. Ha!" He half-jumped at one of the men. "See?"

"So, you want to do something to prove yourself to me, then?" she asked indulgently.

Joxer almost sighed in relief. She would give him a chance. This was the break he had been searching for his whole life.

"Anything," he said. "Please."

"You know who Xena is, don't you? She travels with someone."

Joxer nodded and rolled his eyes. "An irritating little blonde, I know."

"Yes, her name is Gabrielle. You bring her to me, and you may join my legion as a warrior."

Oh, such a simple task, Joxer thought. She must really want him to get in. He bowed deep, missing Callisto's smirk. "Consider the deed done, my queen." He turned to the warriors. "We're all on the same team now."

He pivoted dramatically and marched proudly from the fortress. A couple of the men laughed and kicked his butt, but Joxer knew it was just play between guys -- a ritual of acceptance. Oh, this was so great. All he had to do was capture Xena's little friend, and paradise was his.

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Oh, come on, you stupid fire. Light. The gods take you. Light!

Joxer sat back and kicked the small pile of sticks, scattering them in all directions. Blasted luck! He'd just have to shiver this night. At least it wasn't too cold.

He laid back on the dirt, his hands behind his head, and dreamed about where he might be in only 24 short hours. In the morning, he'd capture the irritating blonde and bring her before Callisto. Then, the Warrior Queen would reward him for his service, and Joxer would spend a happy night with his brothers in arms around a warm, blazing campfire.

Ah, what he wouldn't give for acceptance as a warrior. To stand among his brothers and feel their respect and honor. Then his father might accept him as his son, and Jett might stop tormenting him. And the world might finally hear and revere the name of Joxer.

He smiled lazily, content with watching the stars make their way slowly across the sky. Such a beautiful fantasy it was, but a fantasy it might remain. If for some reason he couldn't catch Xena's companion, Callisto would reject him. His dream would remain just beyond his reach -- tantalizing and beautiful and unattainable. If only there were a way to guarantee success in his quest. If only ...

Something hard bashed him on the nose, jerking him from his rare moment of peace. He picked up the offending object, a small coin that vanished even as he held it in his palm. A soft, metallic sound, like the clatter of clinking money, came to his ears as he sat up rigidly. He looked around frantically and almost bumped his head into a swath of heavy, colorful skirts.

"Ah!" he said, that being the only word he could manage, as he jumped to his feet. He found himself facing a tall, plump woman in a dress that might rival a circus tent.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the woman said. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Joxer wished he hadn't left his sword with the rest of his gear, now out of reach. He pulled his secret weapon, the tiny dagger, and pointed it at the woman.

"Careful," he said, his voice tinged with panic. "I'm not afraid to use this."

"Oh, for goodness sakes," the woman said, smoothing her skirts and scowling. "I'm not here to hurt you, you silly man. I'm here to help you."

"Who are you?"

She smiled and waved her hands, spilling golden coins to the ground. "I am Luck."

"Luck? You mean you're a goddess?"

"Yes. And if you will put away your ... weapon ... I would like to talk to you."

"Um, OK." Joxer slid the tiny dagger back into its hiding place and plopped onto the ground, gesturing that the goddess should do the same. She smiled but did not sit.

"I know I've treated you badly, Joxer," she said, "and I am sorry. It always seems that you get the bad end of my coin tosses. Letting Callisto's men take you in the wagon was the last straw." She drew herself up to her full height. "So, I'm here to rectify the situation."

Joxer scratched his ear. Had he heard her right? "What?" he asked.

"I am going to give you a chance to change your luck, Joxer," she said. "Name what is your heart's greatest desire, and I will toss my coin. If it lands heads, you get your wish. If it lands tails, you don't. Wanna give it a try?"

She twisted her hand, and a large golden coin appeared between her fingers. She smiled and shook it inticingly.

"Wait a minute," Joxer said. "You mean that if that coin lands heads up, I get my wish, and if it lands heads down, I don't lose anything I already have?"

"That's right."

Joxer rubbed his hands together and grinned. Oh, this was going to be good. He could wish for money -- no, no, he had no way to carry it. What about the most beautiful woman in the world? No, she probably wouldn't be much for life on the road. Kingship? Nah, that took too much responsibility. What did he want more than anything else in the whole world?

Then the answer came to him. So simple. So clear.

"Luck," he said, "I want to be a warrior worthy of Callisto's army."

"Okey-dokey," she said, and she tossed the coin high in the air. It flipped and spun, catching the dull gleam of moonlight on its polished surface. The coin hit the top of its arc and oh so slowly seemed to descend to earth. Luck reached out to catch it, but it slipped through her fingers, banged against a rock and flew across the clearing toward Joxer. The coin bounced off his hands, which he raised to protect his still-tender nose, and it lodged itself in the crack of a log -- on its side.

Joxer stared dumbly at the coin, fearful to touch it. He glanced at Luck, who narrowed her eyes and waddled forward.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

She pursed her lips. "You know, I'm not quite sure. It's never landed on its side before. Do you feel any different?"

Joxer shook his head.

"Hmm," Luck mused. "I guess that means you didn't get your wish." She reached down, lifted the coin from its resting place and shrugged. "Sorry, Joxer. Luck is fickle, you know."

She vanished in a shower of coins that also faded and disappeared before touching the ground, leaving Joxer alone once again with mournful thoughts of a treasure he couldn't quite touch.

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Every coin has two sides, however, and every toss has two possible outcomes. One flip, backed by the power of a goddess, splits one thread in Fate's tapestry of life. Joxer might not have gotten his wish in one reality, but what if ...

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Luck tossed the coin high in the air. It flipped and spun, catching the dull gleam of moonlight on its polished surface. The coin hit the top of its arc and oh so slowly seemed to descend to earth. She reached out to catch it, but it slipped through her fingers, banged against a rock and flew across the clearing toward Joxer. The coin bounced off his hands, which he raised to protect his still-tender nose, and it lodged itself in the crack of a log -- on its side.

Joxer stared dumbly at the coin, fearful to touch it. He glanced at Luck, who narrowed her eyes and waddled forward. He opened his mouth to ask what had just happened, but all words fled from his mind as a slight tickly feeling began in his spine. The sensation slowly worked its way up and into his head, where it grew to maddening itch, and then blinding pain. And then the tickle vanished.

"OK," he muttered. "That was weird."

Luck leaned forward and cupped his chin in one hand, examining him closely with her deep brown eyes. He swatted away her hand and scowled.

"Stop that," he growled.

"You know, it's never landed on its side before," Luck said. "Do you feel any different?"

Without answering, Joxer lifted Luck's coin from its resting place in the log and held it, letting the moon dimly illuminate its surface. On one side was a tall mountain, capped in snow and ringed with clouds: Olympus. He flipped to the other side and smirked at the profile of a young woman with long, flowing hair. The girl reminded Joxer of the irritating blonde.

Maybe when he found her in the morning he would rough her up a bit before taking her to Callisto. Yes. Bringing the blonde's broken, battered body to his queen surely would gain him favor.

He tucked the coin into his belt pouch. "I think I'll keep this. For luck," he said, sneering at the goddess.

Luck wrung her hands and began pacing the clearing. "Oh, dear," she muttered. "Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear. What have I done? Zeus will not be happy with this." She turned to Joxer with an expression of absolute pity. "I am so sorry."

He shrugged. "For what?"

"Don't you understand?" she asked, waving her hands absently among a flurry of coins. "You got your wish. But to become worthy of Callisto's army, you turned Evil. I should have seen it before. Don't you see that this is not who you are?"

Joxer stood and sauntered slowly toward the goddess, who backed away like a skitish horse. "Well, maybe this is who I should be," he said quietly. "Thank you, Luck. For the first time, you've done something good for me."

With one final "oh, dear," Luck vanished, and all her coins faded with her -- except for one. Joxer pulled out the magical slice of metal that had just changed his life for the better and kissed it lightly. Oh, yes, the next few days would prove interesting.

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"What are you doing? Now stay down!"

From Joxer's vantage, Gabrielle towering over him, her staff lodged firmly against his breastplate, the morning wasn't looking so great. She'd disarmed him, beat him up with that big stick and broken his crossbow. This encounter definitely was not proceeding as planned.

But he couldn't let the irritating blonde know that.

"Are you kidding me?" he said. "I've got you right where I want you!"

Gabrielle smacked him again, this time in the face. He rolled his jaw from side to side to make sure it wasn't broken.

"Will you stay down?" the girl said, a distracted expression on her face. "There's something I gotta do."

She disappeared into the crowd, leaving Joxer on his back in the alley. He struggled to rise, but somehow he couldn't get his body to obey him.

"Go ahead! Run! You coward!"

Well, Round One to the irritating blonde. He finally heaved himself to his feet, and, muttering to himself about how warriors don't let little girls push them around, he retrieved his array of battered weapons and headed off in search of Gabrielle.

People packed so tightly into the square that Joxer could hardly move let alone hunt down one girl amidst this mess. Still, he fumbled through the throng, using his height to peek over people's heads -- no blonde in sight. She had vanished, and Joxer had lost his one chance at getting into Callisto's gang.

He pushed his way through to a large building with benches out front and sat heavily on the rough wooden planks. He wondered mournfully what he would do now. If only luck had smiled on him instead of turning away, he might already be on the road back to the fortress, with Gabrielle in tow. Ah, well, Joxer thought. I guess I'm doomed to failure.

He leaned back against the building and closed his eyes against the growing crowd, but visions of his fight with Gabrielle began to replay through his mind. She could have killed him with her stick. Just one solid crack to his neck, and Joxer would be crossing the River Styx. So why didn't she? Probably because the girl followed the same honorable code as Xena.

Joxer regretted that Xena had not accepted him when they had met on the road to nowhere. The code of goodness certainly seemed more appealing than Callisto's madness. Callisto and Xena both had chosen paths of the warrior, and yet they were so different. Like two sides of a coin -- one good, one evil. But when one side was up, the other was down. Joxer wondered which side was up now.

Someone jostled Joxer's shoulder, almost thrusting him off his bench, and he opened his eyes to a scene of pure chaos. People were clustering around the building, torches and weapons in hand, screaming for the blood of Callisto, raising such a din that Joxer covered his ears.

He pushed through to the edge of the crowd and turned to watch as Callisto's figure bobbed above the sea of heads, her face a horrid mask of insanity. The people parted before her, and Joxer saw she sat astride a pale horse, her hands tied, but she carried the bearing of royalty. She grinned widely at the mob, but her eyes shone with rage and bloodlust.

Then Joxer noticed Callisto's companions, whom the banshee seemed to treat more like escorts than captors. Leading the horse was Xena, and by her side, her staff ready for action, was Gabrielle.

Joxer smiled at his unbelievably good fortune. Perhaps Luck had taken pity on him after all by giving him a second chance to complete his mission. All he had to do was capture Gabrielle and trade her for Callisto. Oh, that would make the Warrior Queen so happy. Maybe he didn't need his wish -- all he really needed was his own brilliant mind.

He hurried to a small stall and bought a long length of rope. His weapons hadn't worked, but maybe a little cunning would.

===============================

Joxer jumped from his hiding place and threw the net over Gabrielle with a cry of triumph. This was his first attempt, and he'd caught her so easily. Leaning casually against a nearby building, Joxer folded his arms across his chest and waited for his prey to stop struggling and accept her capture.

But she continued to struggle, and Joxer straightened in surprise when she threw the net off herself and raised her staff. Her feeble attempts at escape might prove interesting, he thought, and she was simply giving him an excuse to mess up her face a little. Play time.

"So," Joxer said chillingly, relishing the slight tremble that passed through Gabrielle's body. "You want to fight?"

He slowly drew his sword, allowing its hiss coming out of the scabbard to echo through the alley. The blonde swung her staff, and Joxer suddenly found himself weaponless. Oh, she'd pay for that.

He narrowed his eyes dangerously and drew his knife. "You've made me mad now, little girl."

She swung her irritating stick again and jabbed him in the stomach. With a yelp of pain, he found his hand involuntarily opening and dropping the weapon. This little fight was cute, but it was getting tiring very quickly.

He drew his crossbow, and without hesitation, without giving his prey time to smack him again, he aimed at her stomach and loosed the quarrel. With a strangled cry, she leaned heavily against her staff with one hand and used the other to claw at her left leg, where the quarrel lay buried deep. Joxer stepped foward and kicked the staff, sending Gabrielle sprawling face first onto the ground. She screamed as the impact pushed the shaft deeper into her leg, and she rolled over to relieve the pain, only to find Joxer standing there, her staff in his hands.

With one swift crack to the head, Joxer knocked her unconscious, smiling grimly as her rigid body went limp and her eyes glazed over and slowly closed. He leaned over and smoothed her long blonde hair, his face a mask of stony indifference.

"Good girl," he whispered. "Now stay down until I get back."

With one more smack to her forehead for good measure, Joxer dragged her body into the shadows and then re-entered the street in search of the tools he'd need to transport the unconscious blonde. He pushed through the crowds that refused to lessen all the way to the stables. One quick glance around the smelly interior confirmed that all the guards were somewhere outside in the mass of people, giving him free rein to pick his mount.

Joxer settled on a docile brown mare that already was saddled, and he led her back to the alley and his still-sleeping prisoner without incident. He heaved the limp girl across the broad back of the horse, which snorted at the extra weight but otherwise ignored her passenger.

And with dreams of a grand welcome settling firmly in his mind, Joxer grasped the horse's halter and slowly led it through the streets, out the city gates and toward Callisto's fortress.

===============================

"Ah! Got ya!"

Joxer threw the lasso over Gabrielle, and with a broad grin, he pulled the rope tight. The girl turned, staff ready for a fight, but Joxer was disappointed by the look of annoyance -- not fear -- that crossed her face.

She pulled the rope over her head and threw it to the ground in disgust. "You've got to be kidding," she said, her voice heavy with contempt.

Joxer scowled slightly, reclaimed the rope and prepared for another try. "Once I have you," he said, "I'm trading you for Callisto. She'll reward me well!"

Joxer lost his balance and went pitching forward when the blonde caught the rope and yanked hard. He didn't see her fist until it connected with his nose, and he clattered to the ground with one hand desperately attempting to slow the blood flowing down his face.

"Oh, oh!" he yelled. "You broke my nose! I hate it when that happens."

Joxer pulled himself to his feet, all the while nursing his poor nose. Gabrielle led him to a bench and shoved him onto it, holding a rag to his face. He tried to object to her rough handling, but all that came out his mouth were more whimpers of pain.

"Now," she said, her bright eyes locked onto his own, "why are you attacking me?"

Confusion briefly clouded over Joxer's expression. Why did she even care? He was her enemy, he'd tried twice to catch her. And yet she wanted to talk to him? Ah, why not. At least a conversation might give him time to pick up the shredded remains of his dignity.

"I am a warrior," he answered indignantly. "And I'm trying to make a name for myself."

She drew a deep breath and sat next to him. "Well, I've got some bad news for you. You're not a warrior."

So much for dignity. "Oh, great. Hit a man when he's down."

"Listen, I've beaten the stuffing out of you both times we've met."

With a sniffle and dab at his nose, Joxer looked down at her intently. He didn't understand why it was so important, but he had to make Gabrielle see his point of view. "Listen -- you don't understand. I come from a long line of warlords. It's like a family tradition."

"I'm really sorry, but you don't have that warrior thing."

She patted his back in sympathy. He knew he should get angry, or at least seriously annoyed, but her words rang so true that he couldn't bring himself to argue. Best of all, she didn't seem to be sneering down on him. This girl really wasn't so irritating, he thought. She actually was kind of nice.

Still, her words hurt. "You don't think so, huh?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Oh, but that's all right. There are other things you can do. You know ... what interests do you have?"

He grinned. "I like to steal."

"Uh, other than that."

Well, what did he enjoy? Oh, yeah. All those mornings he'd awaken before his family and snuck away to the lake with his fishing pole. That had been fun. Maybe the only good memory of his childhood.

"I like fishing," he said.

She smiled, and his heart leapt. Gabrielle had such a sweet smile. "Well, there you go," she said. "You'd make a great fisherman."

"You think?"

"Yes. Absolutely. I've got a feel for people."

"Thanks," he said. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't help it. He hadn't felt this good in ages. "I'm Joxer, by the way."

He extended his hand, and she took his hand in a firm grip. "Gabrielle."

And without a consciously being aware of his decision, in the instant that their hands touched, Joxer changed the direction of his life, and he turned against his former ally.

Her intense eyes seemed to look through him -- to see just how much their short conversation had affected him -- and he couldn't stand the bright gaze any longer. He looked over her head for a moment -- and latched onto a warrior standing among the townspeople. One of Callisto's men. Oh, geez. If the warrior saw him sitting with Gabrielle, he'd tell Callisto. Worse, he might try to capture them both.

I have to get Gabrielle away from here, he thought. If Callisto gets her hands on her, she'll rip her apart. But how to get Gabby to leave? Well, she'd been quick to disappear when he'd tried to capture her ...

All this passed through Joxer's mind through the space of a heartbeat, and he knew what he had to do. He grabbed Gabrielle's arm and twisted her into his grasp. "Ha! Got you now!"

She elbowed him hard, he released her, and she moved into the crowd, away from danger. Satisfied with his good deed for the day, Joxer stood and followed her as she determinedly headed back to the jail.

A fire broke out inside the building just as Gabrielle drew near, and Joxer caught his breath when he thought she might be getting too close. Then the door flung open, and there stood Callisto. She viciously kicked one man and hissed like a cat as she vaulted onto a horse. At full gallop, she rode through the crowd, pulled something into the saddle with her and pounded out of the city.

Joxer was left with a vision of two heads of golden hair streaming out behind the horse. Gabrielle. Oh, gods, the banshee had Gabrielle. And it was all his fault. If he hadn't forced her to leave, she wouldn't have been anywhere near the jail. Oh, gods.

I have to save her.

Joxer ran to the stable and located a brown mare that looked reasonably tame. With a silent promise to return the horse later, he heaved himself into the saddle and pounded down the road after Callisto -- and the young woman who unwittingly had stolen his heart.

===============================

When they reached the half-way point between town and Callisto's fortress, Joxer stopped to poke through the saddle bags, roughly pushing the unconscious girl out of his way. She was draped stomach down across the saddle, her arms and legs dangling, her hair blowing in the wind. And she still hadn't moved. Joxer wondered if he'd hit her a little harder than necessary.

The saddle bags produced an interesting array of supplies -- food rations, a battered pot, flint and ... there it was. He pulled a two long, solid lengths of twine from the bag and began wrapping one tightly around the blonde's wrists.

She twiched slightly and moaned, the additional pain of cut blood circulation returning her to reality. Her head lifted, and she blinked furiously as blood from her forehead wound dripped into her eyes.

Joxer tied off the twine and slowly, mockingly caressed her bruised cheek. She pulled away weakly, and he couldn't help but laugh at her pathetic state.

Why?" she choked out. "Why are you doing this?"

He smiled grimly. "I'm taking you to Callisto. She'll reward me well."

A gust of wind blew the girl's hair into her face, where it stuck to a clot of blood, but she didn't seem to notice. Joxer reached up, without knowing why, and gently brushed the strands away. She jerked back and spat at him.

Amazing really, that she could show so much courage in her current state, Joxer thought. Rather admirable, actually. He wiped off his face.

"Play nice, little girl," he said, "or I'll have to hurt you."

She glared at him and began to struggle against her bonds. Ah, well, Joxer thought. Some people didn't know when to quit. He drew his sword and slammed the hilt into her nose. She cried out.

"I warned you."

"Why are you attacking me?" she asked, her voice hinging on desperation.

Joxer clamped one hand over her wrists and leaned in closer, until he could feel her quick breaths on his face. "I am a warrior," he said quietly, "and I'm making a name for myself."

"You're no warrior," she spat. "Warriors have honor and fight for the greater good. You're a mercenary. You're Callisto's dog."

Pain exploded behind Joxer's eyes, and he realized that the girl must have butted him in the face. He blinked to clear the black spots from his vision. When he could see again, Gabrielle was gone.

He looked around frantically and spotted her, only a few yards away, struggling to run while dragging her injured leg behind her. With a cry, she collapsed, hugging her bad leg to her chest and sobbing violently. Ah, poor creature. It would have hurt her much less to just stay where Joxer had put her, but she possessed too much spirit for her own good.

He walked around the horse, which obliviously munched on some grass by the roadside, and approached the fallen girl. The terrified expression that met him did nothing to soften his anger. Why was that? She had reason to fear him. He was bringing her to Callisto, the sworn enemy of Xena, and the Warrior Queen would certainly kill her ... or at least use her for bait.

And Joxer -- whom his father accused of being soft, gentle -- was leading her to her death. So where was that softness now? His compassion, his urge to do the right thing?

Joxer remembered when, long ago, in what felt like another life, he had fought Jett again and again to protect the small animals his brother had enjoyed torturing. He'd always lost, but he'd always tried. So, here was another helpless animal, staring up at him with helpless eyes, and he stared back with the eyes of his brother.

The compassion was gone.

For a brief instant, Joxer felt awash with regret that his old self had vanished, to be replaced by nothing but hate and bloodlust. Then the regret faded, much like a dream, and he sneered at the girl before him.

"No," she whispered. "No, please ..."

Her protest ended abruptly as Joxer smashed his sword hilt into her head for the third time that day. Regret? Compassion? Those emotions had no place in his new life.

He heaved her body back onto the horse and continued his journey.

===============================

Like the gates of Tartarus, Callisto's fortress stood large and foreboding. Joxer thought that he wouldn't be surprised if gouts of flame shot from the entrance and Hades himself walked out to greet him. Yes, Death probably awaited him at the banshee's feet, but Gabrielle already was inside. He couldn't fail her.

Joxer slowed the mare to a walk and then stopped her a couple hundred yards from the fortress, dismounting and patting his mount on the rump. "Good girl," he whispered. "Now, go back home. Go find your master."

He turned the horse toward the city and swatted her lightly. With a soft nicker, she trotted back down the road.

"Hey! Who goes?"

Joxer jumped at the voice and drew his sword, looking in all directions for its source. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind and grabbed his sword, disarming him before he realized he was under attack. The arms twirled him around, and Joxer found himself facing Callisto's first-in-command.

"Well, if it isn't the idiot," the man said. "You shouldn't have come back because now Callisto is going to kill you."

Oh, that did not sound good. "Um, actually, I helped her capture Xena's friend. She'll be happy to see me."

The warrior laughed and grabbed him by the breastplate, dragging him toward the fortress. Well, this wasn't exactly how Joxer had planned to get inside, but it would do.

"You can tell that to Callisto, idiot," the warrior said. "And then we'll see how long you last."

Gabrielle was nowhere in sight when Joxer passed through the gate. But he saw Callisto, standing patiently in the compound's center, her head cocked to one side in curiosity as she watched him dragged closer. Then Joxer noticed the rope tied off behind the banshee, and his eyes followed its path up to the top of the fortress.

There she hung, yelling and kicking her legs furiously. Don't worry Gabrielle, he thought. I'll get us out of here. Don't worry.

His captor stopped suddenly, almost throwing Joxer off balance. "I found this worm sneaking around again."

Callisto rolled her eyes. "What do you want?" she asked tiredly. "I told you want you had to do to gain my favor, and you failed."

"She's the girl," Joxer said, pointing at Gabrielle.

Her eyes flickered dangerously. "I captured her."

He licked his lips and glanced up again. What should he say? What would make Callisto bring her down? Well, for now he better follow the banshee's lead.

"I softened her up for you," he answered. "I mean, moments before you got her, I was pummelling her senseless."

"Yes," Callisto said mockingly, "and what were you hitting her with? Your nose?"

Um, oops. He's forgotten about his nose. The warriors laughed, and Joxer realized he was holding Gabrielle's rag to his face. Now when had he pulled that out again?

"Silence!" Callisto screeched. She returned her attention to Joxer. "There is but another way you can prove your worth."

He knew he'd do anything to gain her trust long enough to get Gabrielle out. "Name it, and I'll do it."

"Bring her down," she yelled, grinning.

Joxer watched as Gabrielle slowly descended, struggling the whole way, and he sighed in relief when her feet touched the ground. This was a good start. She was down.

"Do her."

Joxer looked at Callisto, and then back at Gabrielle. "Do who? Oh!"

"Her," Callisto said, nodded toward Gabby. "The irritating blonde. Slit. Her. Throat."

Oh, gods. This was not good. Gabrielle's eyes widened, and she began struggling again against her captors. No way would he kill her. But maybe Callisto only wanted to test his loyalty. Surely she couldn't mean for him to really kill her when Gabrielle would make such excellent bait for Xena.

Oh, yeah, Xena! The Warrior Princess surely was on her way here, and then she could fight Callisto and this whole nightmare would be over. All Joxer had to do was delay until Xena arrived. He hoped she'd get here soon.

"I, um ... I'd, uh. Uh, slit her throat?" he choked out.

"Yes," Callisto said. "Pierce the skin, under the chin with the blade, and tear a hole this way. Like this." She demonstrated the action with her finger on her neck, her voice as calm as if she had been discussing the weather.

Come on, Xena ...

"Okay," he answered hesitantly.

Where are you? ...

"Yesss." Callisto grinned, her eyes wide.

Joxer found a dagger in his hand. Oh, this was getting too close. I have to buy more time, he thought. Xena, please get here now!

"Listen," he said. "Don't you think she'd be worth more alive? I mean, hey, we can trade her for Xe ... Hey! We can make Xena really mad. Really mad. When Xena hears about this --"

Callisto's face contorted with rage. "I want her dead!" she screamed. "Do it! Do it!"

He held the blade to Gabrielle's neck, and she trembled. Her breath came in short, labored gasps. She looked so vulnerable, so frightened -- but he couldn't delay any more. And Xena hadn't arrived. Not for the first time, Joxer wished that he were more of a hero, more of a fighter. All he had wanted to do was save Gabrielle's life.

"I can't," he whispered, throwing the knife to the ground. "I just can't."

Callisto drew her own dagger and approached him, pressing the blade against his neck. Joxer gulped hard, but he didn't falter. The least he could do, he decided, was die with dignity.

"Just as I thought," Callisto murmured, pressing harder against his throat. "The man's backbone is mush." She turned to her men. "Chain him up. We'll have fun killing the jellyfish later."

Joxer hardly felt the ropes that bound him tightly to a post because his full attention was on Gabrielle, who was being hoisted back into the air. He sighed and blinked back the tears of frustration that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Don't cry, Joxer," a female voice whispered in his ear. "You did the right thing."

"Wha-?" He twisted his neck around and saw Luck smiling at him.

She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "And don't worry. Help is on the way."

Luck vanished just as Joxer heard a familiar battle cry, and Xena rode into the fortress like one of the Furies. Joxer smiled to himself. He'd succeeded in delaying long enough after all. Now, all Xena had to do was win.

===============================

Joxer led the brown mare passed the guards who patrolled the road outside the fortress without even a glimmer of a confrontation. The warriors emerged from their posts, eyes wide and mouths working without sound, and they fell in behind him. With a surge of satisfaction, Joxer supposed they wanted to see what Callisto would say when she learned that he had completed his mission.

He passed through the gate with a small following in his wake. All sound faded to silence as Joxer and the horse walked through the compound, and the warriors parted before him. He approached Callisto with a self- satisfied smirk, and he gestured grandly to the prize that lay across the mare's saddle.

"I captured the girl, my queen," he announced, loud enough for his voice to carry across the entire compound. "Just as you wanted."

With an astonished expression, Callisto sauntered around Joxer to the unconscious girl. She roughly grabbed a handful of blonde hair and yanked back, revealing Gabrielle's bloody face. The girl moaned and stirred.

Callisto looked back to Joxer. "You certainly made a mess of her."

Joxer shrugged. "She tried to escape," he said. "But I caught her."

"Yes, so I see." Callisto dropped the girl's head and slowly circled Joxer, a small grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. "And now, you must do one more thing to prove your worth."

Oh, so close, Joxer thought. I'm so close to paradise. "Name it, and I'll do it."

"Bring her over here," Callisto ordered, nodding toward her first-in- command. The warrior heaved the girl out of the saddle and dragged her to his mistress, dumping her unceremoniously on the ground. With a wide grin, Callisto leaned over and smacked Gabrielle across the cheek. The girl's eyes flew open, and she struggled to her feet, only to collapse again on her injured leg.

Joxer chuckled softly. Surrounded by enemies, but still the girl resisted. How pathetic.

Callisto cupped Gabrielle's chin in her hand. "Welcome to my world, deary," she said sweetly. "I do hope you enjoy your time here because you won't be staying very long."

Gabrielle jerked away and glared at her captor. "You're right about that. Xena's gonna wipe the floor with you."

Callisto's laughter echoed off the fortress walls and sounded almost musical to Joxer's ears. "I think," she said, "you will not live long enough for Xena to save you." She nodded to one of her men. "Get this girl on her feet."

The warrior obeyed, holding her up from behind, and then Joxer saw the damage he'd inflicted on Gabrielle in only a few short hours. The quarrel still protruded from her thigh, but the shaft had broken off about an inch from her bruised skin. Her several head wounds had caked over in dried blood, one of her eyes had turned a brilliant purple, and her wrists were red from the twine binding them together. Quite a bit of handiwork, Joxer silently congratulated himself.

Callisto's eyes examined the girl, and then the burning gaze landed on Joxer. "Do her," she said.

"Do who?" he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Her," Callisto said. "The irritating blonde. Slit. Her. Throat."

The first-in-command handed Joxer a knife, which he took firmly in his hand. If killing her was what it took to get into Callisto's army, so be it. "Slit her throat? Okay."

"Yesss." Callisto grinned widely.

Joxer held the blade lightly against Gabrielle's neck, relishing the violent tremor that racked her body. Her breath came in short, labored gasps. He slid the knife slowly across her skin, drawing a thin line of blood, and he smiled grimly. Her terror was so sweet. He might even get to like this execution stuff.

"Please," she whispered hoarsely. "Please, no."

"Joxer, no," added another female voice, more confident than the girl's plea. "You cannot do this. It isn't right."

Luck appeared in a flurry of coins at Gabrielle's side. She frowned at him, and he frowned back. "What in Tartarus's name are you doing here?" he growled.

"Oh, don't worry. You're the only one who can see me."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"Joxer, you can't kill her."

He pressed a little harder against Gabrielle's neck, and she whimpered. "Why?"

"Because this isn't who you are." She set a hand on his shoulder. "Joxer, just listen for a second. After I left you last night, I went to visit the Fates, and they showed me your life thread. It was split in two. Do you understand? Your wish created two realities, Joxer, and this is the *wrong* reality. You are not fated to kill Gabrielle."

"Oh, really," he sneered. "Then what am I supposed to do."

Luck shrugged. "Marry her. Eventually. The Fates planned for the two of you to fall in love and get married and have three ... no, four children. But you can't do that if she's dead." Her voice became soft and insistent. "Joxer, I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. But only you can correct it. You have a choice."

Joxer dragged his eyes from Gabrielle and looked mournfully at Luck. She didn't understand. How could she? This goddess couldn't see into his heart, after all. If she could, she'd see that her pleas and arguments were a waste of time. He'd lost all his choices the moment the coin wedged itself in the log.

Lowering the dagger for a moment, Joxer reached into his tunic and pulled out the coin. He held it tightly in his hand and then threw it to the ground at Luck's feet. "What happens now is not my fault. It's yours. You are the one who stole my compassion. This death is not on my head."

From somewhere far away, he heard Callisto screaming. "I want her dead! Do it! Do it!"

"And it doesn't matter what happens after," Joxer continued, a tear trailing unnoticed down his cheek, "because I'm already dead inside."

With one strong stroke, Joxer sliced the knife across Gabrielle's throat. Her eyes widened, and her mouth worked silently, trying to scream, but she only produced a few strangled choking noises. Then her eyes closed, her head lolled forward and her struggling stopped. The guard at her back laughed and dropped her. Gabrielle's blood streamed out onto the dirt, staining it black.

"So be it," Luck said. "You have chosen your path."

As she vanished, Joxer became aware of delighted laughter behind him. He turned to watch Callisto clap her hands together and smile broadly.

"Oh, this is just too much," she said. "Congratulations, Joxer. You may join my legion."

He bowed deeply, imprinting every bit of this moment in his mind. The perfect moment. Finally, he was a warrior.

A shrill battle cry erupted outside the fortress, and Joxer's first reaction was that Xena could have waited a few more minutes -- at least until his own moment was complete. But the woman some call the Warrior Princess fought her way into the compound despite Joxer's silent protests. She cut down several soldiers before reaching Callisto, who stood with her sword in hand.

Xena looked around frantically and scowled. "Where's Gabrielle?" she asked, her voice deep and serious.

"Gabrielle? Oh, yes, your little friend." Callisto stepped aside to allow Xena a better view of the bloody corpse face down in the dirt. "Would this be who you're looking for?"

Xena stared at Gabrielle with a stony expression, gulped hard and, in a flash, had her sword at Callisto's neck. "She had no part of this, and you killed her!"

To Joxer, it seemed as though Callisto's grin grew broader. "Oh, Xena. I would love to take credit for this, but, unfortunately, I can't. The man who killed your friend is over there," she said, nodding toward Joxer.

Xena's wild eyes landed on him, and Joxer suddenly felt his knees go weak. She drew her chakram and threw. Joxer tried to follow its path around the compound as it bounced off walls and ladders, but he lost track of it -- right until it cut through his armor and buried itself in his chest.

There was no pain. Only shock and confusion. Joxer hardly understood what was happening as his limbs suddenly refused obey him; his sword slipped from his hand as he fell to the ground. His neck lolled unbidden to the side, and his eyes landed on Gabrielle's face, only a few inches from his own, but he couldn't have touched it for all the world.

And her face, contorted in pain of his own infliction, was the last image Joxer saw before the world faded to nothing.

===============================

Luck heaved a giant sigh as Joxer died. This should never have happened. If only she had refrained from meddling and just let the Fates direct this man's life, he would have survived this day. And so would Gabrielle. Everything had gone wrong.

Her brightly colored skirts whispered against each other as she bent to retrieve her coin, which Joxer had stolen the previous night. It had landed heads down. Well, maybe that was for the best. She wondered briefly if Joxer knew he had determined his own luck by throwing her coin at her feet. Probably not. Mortals so rarely understood the power of the gods -- and the power of one coin toss.

Luck barely noticed as Xena and Callisto took their fight to the ladders high above. Her attention was focused completely on the pair on the ground. Joxer's hand seemed to reach out to Gabrielle, even in death, his fingers only a millimeters from her face. Their blood mingled into an indistinguishable puddle between them.

The Fates had said these two would develop a strong friendship, and their relationship slowly would grow into love. Now they had no chance of spending their lives together, but they were bonded in death.

Luck's only consolation was the knowledge that this reality soon would cease. It only came into existence because of Joxer, and now that he was dead, it had no reason to continue. Soon, this tragedy would become forgotten, and the universe would return to its one true path.

Luck reached into her skirts and pulled out a small flower. She smelled the red rose, enjoying its comforting aroma, and set it gently on the ground between Joxer and Gabrielle. She blew them a kiss and vanished in a clatter of golden coins.

And reality vanished in her wake.

===============================

"Hey, guys! Wait up!"

With one hand on his helmet and the other on his sword hilt, Joxer ran after Gabrielle and Xena. They didn't stop, but he caught them anyway. Oh, it was so good to be on the winning side for once. And not only were they all winners, but they also were the good guys. Joxer wasn't about to let them slip out of his life just when he'd found them. Well, he wasn't about to let Gabrielle slip away, at least.

"You should have seen it," he said to Xena. "Callisto wanted me to kill Gabrielle, but I wouldn't do it. I was just there to delay her until you got there, anyway. I did pretty good, huh?"

"Yep," Xena answered absently without even looking at him. Come to think of it, Gabrielle hadn't looked at him, either. Well, he'd just have to keep talking and get their full attention.

"I really had everyone fooled. Even Gabrielle. Right,Gabby? I bet you were scared when I held the knife to your neck."

"Sure was," Gabrielle said indulgently.

Joxer frowned and stopped walking, and the women continued past him and down the road without even a glance back. Oh, I see, he thought. They don't want me here. Who am I kidding anyway? They're heroes, and I'm ... Well, I'm no hero.

Joxer's shoulders slumped as he turned away. It was silly of him to think Xena and Gabrielle might want him. Stupid. Ridiculous. No one wanted him.

"Hey, Joxer!" Gabrielle called out.

He looked back and saw they had stopped. Gabrielle was beckoning to him with a smile. Joxer returned the grin as he ran to catch up once again. He walked between them and draped an arm over each of their shoulders as they put Callisto's fortress behind them.

"Hey, guys," he said, "thanks."

The end

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