By Rudy

Disclaimer: The auther does not own the characters from Hercules: the Legendary Journeys. Those characters belong to MCA/Universal and were used without permission. No copyright infringement intended and no money was made.

Note: This story is set in an alternate Herciverse, in which the events depicted in "Long Live the King" never took place (and, never *will* take place!)

"Gods! Just kill me! Get it over with, already!"

Iolaus dropped to the floor, cradling his foot tenderly.

"Great. A broken toe. I *hate* that!"

He stared at his little toe. Sure enough, he couldn’t move it. It just stuck out at an awkward angle, stiff as a board, while all of his other toes wiggled obediently. He dragged himself to his feet and hopped over to the table, where he grabbed a roll of cloth and ripped a piece for binding his foot.

"At the rate I’m going, I’ll need more bandaging cloth by nightfall. What is it with my luck lately, anyway? I’ve lost less blood in battles than I have just trying to get around the last few days."

He finished wrapping his toes together and jammed his boot on, wincing. He found himself throwing a few things into a sack, including a skin of wine, and, on a second thought, the bandaging cloth and some medicinal herbs. Slinging the sack and his waterbag over one shoulder, he grabbed his sword and limped out through the forge, slamming the door behind him. Stopping only to cut a limb for a staff, he headed down the road.

"Where am I going? Who cares? Anywhere’s gotta be better than here. Attica. I’ll go to Attica. Maybe if I hang around Orestes for a while the gods will get confused and stop making my life miserable. Ah. It’s great to have a plan."

The road turned out to be just as dangerous a place as the forge. He tripped on a root and landed in a ditch before he’d gotten half a league. Unfortunately, a skunk happened to be hiding out in that particular ditch, and it took immediate exception to his precipitate visit. Iolaus saw it first, though, and defied such immense amounts of gravity in launching himself back up onto the road that Xena would have been green with envy, had she been there. By the time he got out of nose-shot of the noxious little creature, Iolaus was able to congratulate himself upon a narrow escape; he may have smelled a bit like wood smoke and sweat, but, not a whiff of skunk clung to him.

"Hey, maybe things are looking up! That was one great dodge!" Iolaus verbally patted himself on the back as he limped along.

Unfortunately, he was so overcome by his sudden good fortune that he tripped once again, this time landing in a large amount of very fresh evidence that a horse had traveled this path.

The stream of curses which rose in a cloud around Iolaus would have sent the most battle-hardened warrior scurrying in the opposite direction. When he ran out of conventional epithets, he began inventing his own, with a hitherto unplumbed eloquence which would have impressed him mightily, had he been less overwrought. His breath and his imagination deserted him at approximately the same time, and he sat silently in the middle of the road for a moment.

"Fine. Be that way. You’re trying to get to me," he staggered to his feet, clutching his staff, and addressing the sky, "but, it’s been tried before. You might as well give up, because, I’m not going to!"

He shook his fist in the general direction of the treetops, and stumped down the slope toward the nearest body of water, where he washed both himself and his clothing with a particularly vicious thoroughness, before continuing on his journey. The few travelers he met avoided him carefully and discussed him over ale in the first tavern they came across. It wasn’t every day that one came across a scowling, dripping, limping man with a stout staff in his hand and an angry gleam in his eye. Thank the gods.

By dusk, Iolaus was deep into the forest, and looking around for a campsite. He found a tiny glade, next to an even tinier spring, and threw his burdens down gratefully. Lots of hopping, swearing, and two minor burns later, he was nestled down in a blanket by a cheery fire, munching on a bit of cheese and bread.

"You are a walking bad omen, Iolaus. Granted, you’ve given the gods plenty of reason to despise you, but, still; you’re a menace! You know, if I weren’t stuck with you, I’d avoid you like the plague."

He ate a bit more, wincing as he bit his tongue.

"Ale. You know, I ought to invent something you can carry ale in. Something that won’t let the bubbles out. It’d have to be air tight. Light enough that you could carry more than a mouthful. Maybe a sort of metal flask. The metal would have to be really thin, though. Nah. The metal would kill the flavor. Besides, if you want ale, you brew it or go to a tavern. Why should you carry it around with you? I tell you, Iolaus, some of your ideas ..."

He rummaged in his sack and pulled out the skin of wine. Just as he was about to drink, a crashing in the underbrush made him start. He recorked the wine and stood carefully, straining his ears for more noise.

"Eeewww. What is this? I *hate* the forest!"

Iolaus sighed and dropped back down onto his blanket, as a radiantly beautiful blonde woman entered the glade.

"Like I said: a menace," he muttered.

"Hi, curly! How’d you get the black eye?"

"Hello, Aphrodite. It’s a long story."

"Well, save it. I’ve got a problem," her stomach rumbled loudly as punctuation, "you see?"

"See what?"

"Hello? Have you ever heard a goddess’ body make a noise like that? What does it mean, anyway?"

"What does what mean? Your stomach rumbling?"

"Is that what it was? Well, yeah, what does it mean?"

"Well, if you were mortal, it would mean that you were hungry. But, you’re not, so ..."

"Guess again, sweetcheeks."

"You’re ... you’re mortal? You’re joking, right?"

"Do I look like I’m joking?"

Iolaus studied her suspiciously. Well, her abundant hair *was* awfully messy. Her pink gossamer drapes *were* a bit smudged, and torn here and there. Much to his delight. He shook himself mentally. She was shivering, and, was that a tear at the corner of her eye?

His tender heart melted.

"Here, wrap the blanket around yourself and sit next to me, closer to the fire. That’s right. Drink a bit of this wine, and I’ll get some bread and cheese for you. Now, what happened, anyway? Why are you mortal? What kind of a monster would do that to you? No, wait, let me guess; Hera, right?"

"That cow? As if! Nah, it was Zeus."

Aphrodite swallowed some wine and licked her lips appreciatively. Iolaus, in the process of leaning over to get his pack, completely lost his train of thought at that delectable sight. He recovered himself quickly as she took another swig, and he searched through the bag for some food.

"Zeus? Why?"

"Who knows? He was all bent out of shape over some loser mortal woman who killed herself because I didn’t answer her petition. He said I was spoiled, and that he’d teach me to respect mortals. The next thing I knew, I was in the middle of the forest, freezing to death. It sucks!"

Iolaus handed her some food silently, and watched in awe while she demolished it with gusto. She washed it down with a lusty swig of wine, then handed the wineskin back to him.

Iolaus watched, dreamily. She was almost as gorgeous as Hercules.

He shook the thought out of his mind, and gulped some wine.

"So, sweetcheeks, where are we headed?"

"We?"

"Well, you know all about being a mortal. You wouldn’t leave me to fend for myself, would you?" she gave him a sidelong glance and pouted deliciously.

Oh, great. He should have stayed home.

Xena cursed silently and tested her bonds for the hundredth time. They were still stout and strong.

How had she allowed them to take her? She *never* slept that deeply. Had her ale been drugged?

She gritted her teeth as her head was jerked back roughly, and water spilled into her mouth. She opened her mouth to the welcome liquid and swallowed it, her blue eyes blazing into the face of the man before her.

"Garcius will be so happy to see you again, Xena. He’s always wanted to thank you for decimating his army, just as he was about to take over the southern province. I’m sure he’s thought of just the perfect way of expressing his feelings; aren’t you eager to arrive?"

"Garcius is a weak fool. And you’re his underling; what does that make you?"

Delcius’ face darkened for a moment, then the urbane smile returned, only slightly frayed.

"That makes me your jailer, scum." He walked away, laughing softly, as Xena watched, waited, and plotted. She *would* be free. Gabrielle must be worried, and, Xena didn’t want to miss the fall gathering, now, did she?

She grinned to herself. They would be bound to slip up soon. And, she’d be ready. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift into a light sleep; it was important that she keep her strength up.

The morning grew a bit cold and gusty as they headed down the road; Iolaus limping painfully and Aphrodite complaining loudly.

"I’m all stiff and sore; I need a massage. Do you have any massage oil?"

"No, I don’t. I’m not in the habit of giving massages while I travel, OK?"

"No wonder Hercules is always so grumpy," she twinkled at Iolaus’ scowl, "Why are you limping, anyway?"

"I broke my toe yesterday."

"Is that when you got the black eye?"

"No. The black eye is from three days ago. I was ..."

"Spare me the details, curly. So, where *are* we going? You never did answer me, last night."

Iolaus sighed and looked up at the sky hopefully. Maybe a nice lightning bolt, to put him out of his misery. None was forthcoming, and he sighed again. Gods, he missed Hercules.

‘You know,’ he thought sadly, ‘you’ve never told Hercules how much you appreciate what a great traveling companion he is. He doesn’t ask questions he doesn’t want answered, he knows how to hunt. He doesn’t complain about how squinting into the sun will give him wrinkles. He doesn’t ask for massages,’ Iolaus resolutely ignored the little voice screaming how much he *wished* Hercules would ask for a massage, ‘You never know what you’ve got until it’s gone.’

"I ... uh, *we’re* going to Attica. I’ve got a distant cousin there." He belatedly answered the erstwhile goddess’ question.

"Attica. Sounds deadly. You know, you look different. It’s not just the black eye, either. Or that cut on your chin," she stopped in the middle of the road, eyeing him speculatively, "I know; it’s your clothes. Why aren’t you wearing that tired, old vest of yours?"

"Well, the other morning, I went fishing, and ... never mind. I’m just not wearing it, OK?"

"No problem. Anyway, I like the shirt; it’s a good color for you. Open to the waist. Yeah. It looks *real* good."

Iolaus found himself pulling the two sides of the shirt together.

"I lost the lacing for it."

"Hey, don’t look for the lacing; it’s better open, trust me on this. Of course, it’s awfully ragged. What is it with you and clothes, anyway?"

Iolaus returned her appraising stare.

"Speaking of clothes, we’ve got to get some for you at the next town. You can’t wear what you’ve got on."

"Why not?" Aphrodite twirled, causing her diaphanous, ripped clothing to swirl about her enticingly.

"Because someone could get hurt. Like me."

She flashed a sidelong glance.

"I’d never hurt you," she purred.

"Oh, of course not," he rolled his eyes, "Right. Anyway, I didn’t mean *you*. I meant, nine out of ten of the men we meet are sure to fall all over themselves at the sight of you, especially dressed like that. I’d end up fighting strangers all day long."

"And, the tenth man? Would *I* have to fight him to protect *you*?"

"Funny," Iolaus pulled his shirt off.

"Oooh. A treat. Just for me?" Aphrodite teased.

"Just put the shirt on, OK? Here," he rooted around in his sack and pulled out the bandaging cloth. Tearing a strip off, he handed it to her, "tie this around your waist to hold the shirt closed."

"Yeecch. I must look *awful*!"

Iolaus considered her for a moment. The dark brown shirt made her fair skin seem impossibly creamy, and the ragged bandaging enhanced her small waist. Her tousled hair gave her an enviable "just got out of bed, but woke up a while ago" look that was sure to get him into any number of fights. He shook his head.

"Are you sure you’re mortal?"

She smiled happily, and trailed one finger down his bare chest.

"Well, I’m covered up. You, on the other hand ... "

He took a deep breath and gently evaded her questing finger. He grabbed a tattered blue tunic from the sack and pulled it on, using his belt to cinch it at the waist. Thrusting his hunting knife through the belt, he shouldered the bag and his sword, and took her arm.

"How about you be my walking staff, for a while?" his eyes twinkled mischievously.

"You know, curly," Aphrodite murmured, "you should always wear blue. It really brings out the color of your eyes."

"Enough fashion advice, all right? Let’s just get going."

Hercules looked up in surprise as a familiar voice hailed him from across the tavern.

"Gabrielle! How are you? Where’s Xena?" he took her hand warmly and seated her beside him at the rickety wooden table.

"I was hoping that you might have heard," Gabrielle’s worried eyes met his, "she’s disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"She was supposed to meet me in Trias three days ago; she never showed. I finally gave up and headed on to our next destination, hoping I’d run across her on the way."

"Three days," a frown creased Hercules’ brow, "When did you see her last?"

"Over two weeks ago. She had some ... business to attend to. She didn’t want me involved," Gabrielle’s merry face darkened a bit with remembered pique. "If I’d been there, maybe ..."

Hercules reached out to squeeze her hand.

"Don’t try to second guess The Fates, Gabrielle. It’ll just make you crazy. Well, would you like some help searching for her? And, company on the road?"

"Yes, of course. If you have time?"

Hercules smiled.

"Of course I do. We’ll find her; don’t worry too much. I was on my way to Iolaus’; do you mind if we pick him up?"

"No! I would welcome his help," her face had brightened for a second, but fell again. "I just wish I knew whether I was bothering both of you over nothing. But, Xena *always* shows up when she says she will."

Hercules patted the hand he still held, feeling incredibly awkward. What could he possibly say? If only Iolaus were here; comforting distracted women was one of the blonde hunter’s specialties. He knotted his brow; ‘Now, think; what would Iolaus do, if he were here? Uh, no, better scratch that. What would he say under the circumstances? No ... Ah, never mind.’

" Where do you think she’d be likely to go?" Hercules congratulated himself; relevant, pithy. Soothing?

"Well, we had planned to head for the fall gathering in Attica, so that’s where I intended to check, next."

"Perfect," he grinned slightly at her quizzical glance, "Iolaus will be sure to accompany us, then. He loves festivals. Let’s go."

The trip was silent; Gabrielle was caught up in worried imaginings, trying to second-guess her companion, kicking herself for not being at Xena’s side when whatever had happened, well, happened. When they reached Iolaus’ forge, however, Gabrielle looked around her with interest; she was curious to see how Iolaus lived when he wasn’t traveling with his famous friend.

The forge was small, nestled beside a clump of olive trees. A chopping block stood nearby, an ax leaning haphazardly against a pile of cut logs. Hercules knocked on the door, then entered, with Gabrielle close behind him. They pushed past the curtain into the living area beyond.

"Not much of a housekeeper, is he?" Gabrielle laughed.

"Well, he’s not usually *this* bad!"

The remains of a meal lay on the simple wooden table, being eagerly devoured by an army of ants. Some articles of clothing were strewn on the floor, and a chair lay on it’s side. Hercules cleared the food and the ants from the table, pausing as he righted the chair, his gaze caught by a pile of fabric on the floor next to the bed.

He walked over and picked it up, his brow knotted.

"It’s his vest. It looks like it’s been torn at the shoulder."

He looked at the bed; the bedding had been kicked almost completely off, along with the pillow. One of the hangings had been ripped down, and lay with the bedding on the floor.

"Looks like he was having a great time ..." Hercules blushed and stopped thinking out loud as he caught Gabrielle’s questioning glance.

"Uh, well, he’s not here. He’s probably not far away, let’s try to track him and see where he’s gotten to."

A few minutes later, the two were following the trail left by Iolaus, trading idle speculations as they discovered his acquisition of a limp and a staff.

"Well, at least he’s headed toward Attica. If we have to have two missing friends, it’s nice that the search is only leading in one direction."

Hercules didn’t remark on Gabrielle’s attempt at optimism; something about this felt very wrong to him. But, surely, Iolaus was safe. They would run across him before they got halfway through town.

They didn’t. Even more ominous; the innkeeper hadn’t seen him. Since a new batch of ale had just been tapped, that was a bad sign indeed.

It was early afternoon when they came across the little glade by the spring.

"He was met here. By a woman, it looks like. Fairly small feet, in sandals. I wonder if she’s the one who tore his vest off?"

Gabrielle grinned up at him impishly.

"Let me see if I understand your theory. A woman tore Iolaus’ vest off. Then, they tore his bed up. Then he ran away?"

"Good point."

"Not to mention the fact that the woman arrived from a different direction."

"Fine. I was wrong. Let’s just, ... push on to the next town, shall we?"

If this hadn’t been Hercules, the upstanding, scrupulously polite, unflaggingly patient hero of song and story, Gabrielle would have sworn that he sounded a bit testy. Interesting. Could the demigod be jealous?

"So, Hercules. Tell me; how did you and Iolaus first meet?"

"It was a long time ago. I don’t remember."

Gabrielle smiled to herself, pushing her worry aside for the moment. Hercules was almost as tough a nut to crack as Xena. This should be fun.

"Ow!"

Iolaus winced as Aphrodite poked at the cut on his cheek.

"Sorry. Does that hurt?"

"Of course it hurts! It’s a cut! I *told* you not to get *that* dress, but, no! You wouldn’t listen to me. You know, I like to fight as much as the next guy," Iolaus and Aphrodite both looked down at the next guy, who was lying unconscious at their feet, along with two of his friends, "but, this is ridiculous! My toe will *never* heal if I have to keep kicking people with it!"

Aphrodite knelt gracefully and ripped a piece from the nearest man’s shirt. She dunked the bit of fabric in the stream by the road and dabbed at Iolaus’ face with it.

"Thanks," he regarded at her suspiciously.

"Don’t worry, I’m not, like, a pod person or something. I just don’t want you to bleed all over your new shirt. I think I’ve figured out why all of your clothes are trashed."

Iolaus looked down at the garment in question. The soft, open weave of the midnight-blue fabric was a bit wrinkled, but, unstained and unripped. He smoothed it with both hands, and blushed when he looked up and caught Aphrodite smiling at him smugly.

"So, it’s a nice shirt. Did I thank you?"

"About twenty times. Once I forced you to put it on. I just don’t understand people who don’t love to shop."

"How you cajoled that guy into giving us these clothes I’ll never ... actually, I know exactly how you did it. I hope his wife doesn’t hurt him too badly."

"Whew. Was *she* wired too tight, or what? Couldn’t she see that we’re great advertisements for his store? We both look *bitchin’*."

The golden silk of Aphrodite’s gown clung to her in the autumn breeze; she’d allowed the woolen stole to fall to her elbows, which allowed a breathtaking view of her abundant charms.

"Yeah. You do look bitchin’. I just hope it doesn’t get me killed," Iolaus couldn’t suppress an admiring smile.

"Relax. You’re a pretty good fighter, you know that?"

"I’m overwhelmed. Actually, you’re not too bad, yourself; those Herc lessons really paid off for you. Come on, let’s get going before this group starts waking up; they really weren’t much for conversation the first time. We ought to reach Attica tomorrow afternoon, if we make tracks."

She took his arm and they started off, but, without warning, Iolaus found himself on his back, looking up into the scarred face of an enraged god.

"Uh, Hi, Hephaestus. What’s up?"

Xena crouched behind a boulder, nursing her wounded arm. Delcius’ men weren’t the brightest; perhaps they wouldn’t find her. The voices and crashing movements of the searchers were growing closer, however, and she tensed slightly, mentally reviewing possible strategies.

"You there! What is your business on the king’s land?"

Xena peered cautiously around her cover, to see a strongly-built, armored man with short-cropped grey hair challenging Delcius. He was backed up by a small, but orderly, troop of similarly-armed men. They exuded authority and efficiency, and Delcius’ rabble were visibly disturbed by the sight.

"We’re just looking for a proper place to camp." Delcius bluffed.

The grey-haired man studied him coldly, then cast a deliberate glance up at the high sun.

"You may not stop in the king’s preserves. It is scarce noon; less than an hour’s travel will bring you to Attica, where you will find many a hospitable inn to serve you. Shall we escort you there?"

"Ah, no, that won’t be necessary. We’ll be on our way shortly, once all of my men are gathered."

"Some sheep have escaped the fold? Allow us to help you round them up."

"No, no, don’t bother. We’ll just wait for them" Delcius had begun sweating far more freely than the cool, autumn day warranted.

"I assure you, it’s no bother at all." The king’s man motioned and his troops stepped forward, "How many men are you missing?"

"Uh, none. Uh, I miscounted. We’ll just be on our way." Delcius babbled desperately, "Thanks for the offer."

Delcius gathered his men with a gesture and beat a hasty retreat.

The king’s man smiled after them, then turned to Xena’s boulder and smiled.

"You can come out, now."

Xena stepped from her shelter and faced him squarely. They took stock of one another for a silent moment.

"I am Hector, General of King Orestes’ army. And, you are ...?"

"Xena. I’m grateful for your help, though I could have handled them myself."

"I’m sure you could have," there was no trace of condescension in the soldier’s even tones, "You are wounded?"

Xena studied the gash on her arm.

"Yes. It’s not too bad, though. I just need to wrap it."

"If you’ll accompany us to the palace, the royal healer will care for your arm. Then, you can refresh yourself before continuing your journey."

She regarded him for a moment, considering.

"Your offer is too tempting to resist. Thank you. If you could give me some binding for my arm before we start?"

Hector gestured, and one of his men stepped forward with a bundle of cloth, then stepped back again. The general studied Xena covertly as she expertly bound her wounded arm. He knew better than to offer assistance. Xena, the warrior. She and Queen Niobe would, perhaps, find much to discuss.

"A little, blonde man? He was here all right, and that woman of his, too! When you see them, tell them that they owe me for the clothes they took!"

"Woman?" Hercules asked.

"Clothes?" Gabrielle’s question collided with that of Hercules’.

"Yes, clothes. The clothes that they stole!"

"I think we’re talking about two different little, blonde men, here. Iolaus would never steal anything."

"Well, letting that woman of his cajole them out of my husband is the same as stealing, in my book!" the woman’s angry, red face grew a shade darker, "Hardly a proper woman, anyway; barely a stitch on her when they got here. And, fighting nearly every man she came across on the road, according to what I hear. Her and that blonde ruffian, both. And, if you’re friends of theirs, you’re probably just as bad. If you don’t want to buy anything, just move along!"

Hercules and Gabrielle abruptly found themselves standing outside of the tent, staring at one another in bemusement.

"It couldn’t be Iolaus. Could it?" Hercules frowned as the headache which had been nagging at him all day increased a notch. It was looking more and more as though Iolaus were in some sort of trouble; but, what sort?

"It might be." Gabrielle frowned, as well, "Tell me does an improper, scantily-clad woman who fights men on the road sound familiar to you? Especially one that’s headed toward Attica?"

"Xena? With Iolaus? That doesn’t seem very likely, now, does it?" Hercules scoffed at the idea, but his eyes grew a shade darker as he considered the possibility.

"Likely, no. But, it could happen. Why would they want new clothes, though?"

"Well, Iolaus’ vest *was* torn ..." Hercules’ frown deepened, as his mind offered him a vision of Xena’s strong, slender hands on Iolaus’ smooth skin. Over his dead ...

"Yeah. Torn *off*!" Gabrielle yanked at the demigod’s arm impatiently, "Let’s get going. I’m going to get to the bottom of this if it kills me!"

"What do you think you’re doing?" Aphrodite demanded of Hephaestus, as the god of fire reached for his mortal quarry. He turned toward her, and Iolaus took the opportunity to scramble back to his feet.

"What do *I* think I’m doing? What do *you* think you’re doing? Hanging all over this ... this *mortal*. You know, I’ve been suspicious of him ever since he brought you to my forge. What’s going on between you two, anyway? The moment you’re in trouble, you run to him? Why?"

"What do you mean, I "run to him"? Where have *you* been, hero? I would have starved to death, or ... or frozen by now if it weren’t for Iolaus! What, have you been too busy forging a metal mouse to go with the cat, to waste any time helping me?"

"I came as soon as I heard. And, I find you, cozy as can be, with your hands on this ... this ... Why didn’t you tell me what happened?"

"Hello? Just how was I supposed to do that? I’m a mortal, you idiot! What, you wanted me to run to one of your temples and send up a petition? Do you see any shrines to the big, bad god of fire anywhere around here? Huh?" Aphrodite crossed her arms and glared up at her red-faced swain.

Hephaestus was stymied, for a moment, but rallied quickly.

"That still doesn’t explain why you’re with him. How did *he* find out what happened, huh? And, why were you *touching* him?"

"Touching him? We were walking down the road. What is your problem? Look what you did; you re-opened his wound!"

With the light of battle in her eyes, Aphrodite retrieved her bit of cloth and walked over to Iolaus. She placed one hand lingeringly on his sculpted chest (congratulating herself once again for having chosen a shirt which displayed so much of the mortal’s surprisingly gorgeous anatomy), and dabbed gently at the bleeding cut on his forehead, ignoring his panicked expression. She heard Hephaestus growling behind her, and a triumphant smile lit her perfect features.

Iolaus caught at her hands, and pulled them away from his face and body.

"Uh, listen, Hephaestus; you’ve got nothing to worry about. Really. She came across me by accident in the forest a couple of nights ago. She’s been traveling with me to Attica, because, well, she doesn’t know about things like, you know, lighting a fire to stay warm, eating when you’re hungry. What *not* to eat (here Iolaus shuddered, remembering an incident involving some poisonous berries which Aphrodite had almost devoured). Having to sleep when you’re tired. Leading with your left and finishing with a good right hook. You know; mortal stuff."

Hephaestus’ eyes had glazed over about halfway through this eloquent speech.

"You *slept* with him?" He advanced on Iolaus with blood in his eyes.

"That does it! You just, just, stay away from me, Hephie! You are such a pig! I hope I never see you again!"

Aphrodite grabbed Iolaus’ arm and stormed down the road, pulling the hapless hunter behind her. Iolaus freed himself long enough to grab his bag and sword.

"Really, Hephaestus, you’ve got it all wrong. We didn’t *sleep* together. I mean, we slept together, but we didn’t ... we *slept*!"

"Give it up, sweetcheeks. He’s totally clueless."

Aphrodite re-captured Iolaus’ arm, and they headed down the road, leaving Hephaestus staring after them.

"Sweetcheeks?! I’ll kill him!" the god of fire vanished with a particularly angry pop.

Xena tried to bite back a growl of frustration as she prowled through the fragrant palace gardens. She wanted to go back out into the city, to look for Gabrielle again. But, Hector insisted that she meet the Queen. Sure, he had his men out searching for the bard, but; if you want something done right ...

Well, they had given her a beautiful room. And, the palace healer had tended to her wound with the kind of efficiency which one would expect from a man in his position. For once, she’d escape a scar from a wound. There’d been a long, hot, satisfactory bath, and clean, silk robes to don afterward. A couple of words to Queen, what was her name? Naomi? Nasturtium? Well, Queen whatever, couldn’t hurt. Then, Xena could bow out and search the city again before nightfall.

She spun at the sound of approaching steps, and straightened in amazement at the sight of the man gliding toward her, clothed in white-stitched, purple silk. His sleek, blonde hair was swept back smoothly beneath a thick circlet of gold, and his clear, blue eyes met hers calmly.

"Iolaus?"

"Oh, you know him?" the familiar voice was unusually gentle.

"What? Of course I know you. Why are you dressed like that?"

He stood regarding her silently, with a decided air of amusement.

"Highness, forgive me for intruding," it was Hector, with his shadow, Linus, at his back.

"Yes, Hector?"

Xena bit her lip to keep from grabbing Iolaus and making a run for it. He must have gone mad! His air, as he answered Hector, was quite close to being haughty.

"I’ve brought a message from Queen Niobe for Xena."

"Proceed, Hector, by all means," Iolaus inclined his head gracefully, and Xena ground her teeth.

"The Queen wished for me to express her apologies; she has been unavoidably detained. However, Her Highness is looking forward to speaking to you at the feast tonight, as you have been placed at her side."

"Oh, thank you, Hector. Please tell Her Highness that I am looking forward to our meeting, as well," Xena smiled winningly, lowering her head a bit and looking up in what she prayed was a sultry manner, hoping desperately to distract Hector’s attention from Iolaus’ insane imposture.

Hector blinked a bit at the sudden display of charm from the beautiful warrior, but recovered himself, bowing and leaving quickly.

As soon as Hector and Linus were out of sight, Xena grabbed Iolaus’ arm and pulled him under the shade of a nearby magnolia tree.

"Iolaus!" she hissed frantically, "Just what in Tartarus do you think you’re doing?"

Iolaus looked down at the hand on his arm, one pale eyebrow winging upward. He freed himself and smiled once again. Xena’s already blazing temper inched up a few notches at the infuriatingly patient glow in his eyes.

"You are laboring under a misapprehension. I am King Orestes," his soft voice was persuasive, "Apparently, Hector was a bit too, shall we say, momentarily overcome, to offer proper introductions. You are Xena, the warrior princess?"

"Proper introductions? Iolaus, I think we’re past that, don’t you? Now, come on, we’ve got to get out of here. Impersonating a king is frowned upon pretty much everywhere; I doubt that Attica is any different," she began mentally retracing the path she’d taken into the gardens; how many guards had there been?

Her fair-haired companion laughed. He *laughed*!

"’Past that’? How intriguing," Orestes’ eyes danced wickedly as he placed a gentle hand on her arm and led her down the fragrant trail, "Please, walk with me; I can explain everything, I assure you. On rare occasions, one must impersonate a king, for his own royal good. You see, Iolaus is my cousin. My sixth cousin, in fact ..."

Xena found herself walking obediently by his side, glaring down at his gleaming head as he unfolded a most incredible tale.

"Halt!"

Hercules welcomed the stern voice hailing them, and a smile crawled over his face as he turned and saw several guards approaching. Gabrielle had been talking his ear off: "What was it like to fight the Hydra, Hercules?" "Could you tell that Iolaus was destined to be your closest companion the moment you met him, Hercules?" "Where could Xena be, Hercules?" "Where could Iolaus be, Hercules?" "Do you think they’re together, Hercules?"

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream, cry, then jump into a deep lake.

Where *was* Iolaus, anyway?

He had become more worried, and confused with each annoying mile. Who was Iolaus with? Why was he traveling to Attica? He couldn’t be with Xena, could he? They weren’t ...

Gods. The inside of his head was beginning to sound like every step of his journey with Gabrielle.

Guards, though; this he could handle. He flexed his shoulders and stretched his fingers in happy preparation.

There was one problem: the guards were behaving with frustrating civility.

One stepped forward, addressing Gabrielle.

"Are you the bard, Gabrielle?" His voice was courteous.

She blinked a bit.

"Yes. I’m Gabrielle."

"His Majesty, King Orestes, has requested that you be brought to the palace immediately. He will meet with you once at once," the guard’s gaze flickered briefly over Gabrielle’s travel-stained form.

"King ... what was his name?" Gabrielle was mystified.

"King Orestes," Hercules answered her, "Lead on," he nodded politely to the guard.

"Who’s King Orestes?" Gabrielle whispered in an undertone, as they strode toward the palace.

"Well, he is the King of Attica," Hercules answered, with deliberate evasiveness.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes.

"I could have guessed that much. Do you know him?"

"We’ve never met," Hercules smiled to himself as Gabrielle lapsed into frustrated silence. Ah. At last.

He was still smiling as they were ushered into the gardens by Hector, who had taken over for the guards when the group reached the palace. The guards, much subdued by the revelation of Hercules’ identity, had marched off, leaving Hector and Linus to escort Gabrielle and Hercules to the gardens. Hector had refused to divulge the king’s reasons for wishing to meet with Gabrielle, saying only "His Majesty will explain".

Hercules looked around him, inhaling the lush fragrances of a hundred different blooms. The walks were shaded, and the sound of water, trickling, and rushing, sang through the heady air. What a seductively peaceful place, this was. Iolaus had told him of these gardens; he had said that they had been his favorite spot at the palace.

Iolaus. What had his wild friend gotten himself into?

"Hercules!" Gabrielle pulled at his arm, her words a hissing whisper.

"What is it?" Hercules asked in a normal, if somewhat testy, tone.

"Just look!" she hissed back, pointing frantically ahead.

Iolaus.

Hercules was about to shout his friend’s name, run up to greet him, when his eyes took in the rest of the scene. Took in the sight of Iolaus’ companion.

Xena.

She was clad in ice-blue silk, with her long, midnight hair wound atop her head, but, it was definitely Xena, strolling through the dazzling gardens with her hand nestled in the crook of Iolaus’ arm.

With her hand ... what???

Now, an uneasy warrior’s bond had grown between Iolaus and Xena, but, the hunter never accepted the touch of the warrior princess, except under the most dire of circumstances. And, he most certainly never tilted his head in such an elegant fashion, or smiled at her quite so ... so ...

Flirtatiously.

Gabrielle’s gasp penetrated the shocked haze surrounding Hercules’ brain as Iolaus broke off a frothing stem of jasmine and offered it to Xena, who accepted the fragrant gift with a slightly wicked smile.

"New clothes," Gabrielle mumbled.

"What?"

"You remember! The woman at the shop! She said they stole some clothes from her! Well, actually she said that Xena cajoled them out of her husband. They are nice, though ..."

Hercules stared at her for a moment, then returned his gaze to the couple ambling toward them, still slightly screened from view by the overhanging boughs of a willow tree.

Yes. Iolaus was wearing new clothes, also. Rich purple silk robes, which outshone Xena’s elegant blue gown. His hair, too, was different; tamed under a golden circlet.

A golden circlet ...

Hercules took Gabrielle’s clutching hand in his own and strode forward. What was Iolaus up to? Running for King of the Year?

"Iolaus!"

Iolaus looked up in surprise, as the son of Zeus strode purposefully toward him, curiosity and a thirst for vengeance writ large upon his godlike countenance. Xena started forward, smiling happily.

"Gabrielle! Thank the gods!"

"Xena! Where have you been? Well, I can *see* where you’ve been, but, where have you been?" Gabrielle was torn between joy at the sight of her companion’s well-being, and frustrated anger over the worry she had suffered over the last several days.

Xena laughed, kissing Gabrielle sweetly, bringing a slight blush to the bard’s cheeks.

"I uh... ran into a few old friends. Hercules? What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? Xena ... Iolaus... we’ve been trudging all over Greece looking for you! Iolaus, what are you doing? Is your cousin in trouble again? Why didn’t you tell me?"

Hercules frowned down at Iolaus forbiddingly. So concentrated on his friend was he, that he missed the twinkle in Xena’s eyes as she watched the proceedings.

"Ah, Hercules? So, we meet at last. I have heard many tales, of course, but ... well, one can’t believe every story one hears, can one?" Iolaus extended his hand, with the slightest air of a man bestowing an unusual honor.

"Iolaus," this was the tone which Hercules kept in reserve, for strict emergencies. It was his patented ‘Iolaus, I really, really mean it this time, knock it off immediately or you will suffer untold horrors forever’ tone. Of course, Iolaus knew that it meant nothing, but, he always seemed to appreciate the extra effort it cost Hercules to drag it out and dust it off for the odd, special occasion. And, he usually expressed his appreciation by, indeed, knocking it off immediately, whatever ‘it’ may have been.

"Herc!"

Hercules stared at Iolaus. He had learned how to throw his voice? No, Iolaus was looking past Hercules, with a beatific smile lighting his unusually reserved face. Hercules turned, and his jaw dropped unbecomingly.

"Iolaus? Aphrodite?"

"Aphrodite???" Xena and Gabrielle spoke in astonished unison.

"Herc!" Iolaus limped forward, smiling radiantly, "Am I glad to see you! What are you doing here? Gabrielle? Xena? What; you’re having a reunion and nobody told me?"

Aphrodite was glued to Iolaus’ left arm; Hercules grasped his right enthusiastically.

"Iolaus. We’ve been following you. Why are you limping? Aphrodite, what did you do to him?"

"Save it, big brother," ignoring Gabrielle and Xena, Aphrodite pulled Iolaus forward, to stand before Orestes. She looked from the elegant king to the tousled hunter, then back again, "Hey, I’ll volunteer to be the humus in this pita, any day. Introduce us, Sweetcheeks."

"Sweetcheeks?" Orestes lifted one interested eyebrow, "Yes, please do introduce us, cousin."

"Cousin?" Gabrielle interjected.

"King Orestes, Aphrodite. Aphrodite, my cousin, the King of Attica," Iolaus’ fragile hope that the introduction would free him from Aphrodite’s clutches died a-borning; she extended her left hand to Orestes gracefully, and he saluted it in the same fashion. She then looped her hand through the royal arm, and turned all three of them to face a trio of astonished faces.

Hercules was the first to recover; after all, he knew all of the players. He just hadn’t met one of them before.

"Iolaus. You told me you looked like your cousin."

"Yeah. Well, I do. Don’t I?" Iolaus craned his neck around Aphrodite to size Orestes up.

"Yes, you do. You didn’t tell me that you look *exactly* like him!"

"I don’t! Not exactly!" Iolaus sounded a bit offended, which made Orestes’ wry smile widen.

"The similarity is remarkable. I owe my own life and the health of my kingdom to that similarity. And, to Iolaus’ courage and wit. Please, cousin, you look tired. I will have a room assigned to you, and to Hercules, as well. Gabrielle," Orestes smiled at Gabrielle, "We had already anticipated your arrival, and you have a chamber adjoining that of Xena. Great Goddess, will you require ..."

"Absolutely. And, some clothes," Aphrodite shivered as Orestes offered her one of his lovely smiles as tribute, "Wow. Who knew they were making such yummy kings, these days. Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but, I need a bath and a massage. Now."

She began to drag her golden book-ends toward the palace, but, Orestes untangled himself from her grasp deftly, and did the same for Iolaus, by expressing a fervent wish to embrace his cousin, after such a long separation. After having suited actions to words, he summoned a guard and relayed his orders, along with a request for the royal healer to attend the royal cousin at his earliest convenience.

Hercules watched these machinations, and the tender regard and respect with which the king treated Iolaus, with some awe. He took Iolaus’ arm, with speaking strength.

"I’ll walk you to your room, Iolaus. Looks like you could use a hand."

Iolaus tried to shake his hand off, protesting, "I’m fine!" One glance up into the demigod’s determined eyes told him that, if he wanted to remain fine, he’d best go quietly. So, he did, but not before assuring Orestes that the last thing he needed was a visit from the royal healer. Orestes smiled, and assented. The king then led Aphrodite to the palace, with Hercules and Iolaus close behind.

Gabrielle turned to Xena.

"Who is that guy? Will you please tell me what is going on?"

"Come on. I’ll explain everything. Well, everything that I know, anyway."

Hercules deposited himself on Iolaus’ soft, elevated bed with a grateful sigh, pulling some cushions forward to lean against. He watched with a grin as Iolaus limped distractedly around the room.

"OK, Iolaus. I can’t believe I’m saying this, after the last few days, but, talk to me. Why are you limping? What are you doing with Aphrodite? What’s *she* doing with *you*?"

"Listen, Herc; you have got to help her! She’s in a horrible mess, and, I’m probably the one who’s going to end up dead over it!"

Hercules stared down into Iolaus’ earnest blue eyes.

"What kind of a mess."

"She’s mortal."

"She’s WHAT?"

Iolaus cringed and covered his ears, as the servants who’d been filling the bath stopped and stared.

"Come on, Herc, I’ve suffered enough. You don’t have to deafen me on top of it."

"Sorry, Iolaus," Hercules grinned ruefully. Iolaus’ eyes gleamed.

"Hey, I’ve got it! Why don’t you smile like that at Zeus? I’ve never seen anybody who didn’t cave when you did that."

"You know, Iolaus, absence hasn’t made you any funnier. So, Zeus had something to do with this?"

Iolaus snorted.

"Zeus had *everything* to do with it. He did this to Aphrodite as a punishment, because he felt that she has no respect for mortals."

"Well, he’d be right."

"Yeah, that’s true. But, Herc, I’ve had a lot more dealings with the gods than I have a taste for, and, I’ve got to tell you; if Zeus made every god or goddess who didn’t respect mortals *into* a mortal ... well, it would be pretty quiet up on Olympus, that’s for sure. Anyway, what am I; chopped liver? She’s killing me, Herc! If Zeus loved mortals so much, he’d make her a goddess again just to save my hide!"

Iolaus limped over to the bath and tested the water, jerking his hand back with a curse.

"Hot! What is this; a bath or a lobster pot?" he blew on his red fingers tenderly.

"Uh, Iolaus; why are you limping?"

"I broke my toe."

"How?"

"Walking."

"Just walking?" Hercules frowned.

"Believe me, with my luck lately, just walking is a risky undertaking," Iolaus gave up on the bath, and jerked his shirt over his head to splash handfuls of cold water over his upper body and face. His elbow hit a flask of bath oil and it crashed to the floor, flooding the room with the scent of roses.

Hercules watched hungrily as Iolaus dripped his way around the room, looking for a towel. The water beaded on the hunter’s golden body, and Hercules coughed self-consciously, looking away.

Iolaus’ search for a towel proved fruitless.

"Perfect," Iolaus pulled his shirt on over his damp body, one-footed it up the steps, and threw himself onto the bed, nearly dislodging Hercules in the process. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Hercules expectantly.

"What?" Hercules asked, somewhat defensively.

"Well, what are you going to do about Aphrodite?"

"Oh, well, I thought I’d just snap my fingers and fix it," Hercules snapped his fingers, "There. That’s taken care of."

"Absence hasn’t made you any funnier, either, Herc. Hey, why are you traveling with Gabrielle, anyway? Is there something you want to tell me ...?"

Hercules’ glare didn’t quell Iolaus’ wicked smile.

"She was looking for Xena. Then, we both started looking for you. For a while, we thought ... never mind. Let’s just go to the feast, shall we? Maybe I’ll come up with a brilliant plan while we eat."

Iolaus snorted.

"Well, I might," Hercules grinned, as Iolaus scorned his offer of help in getting down the steps and out the door.

They walked in silence for a few moments, then Hercules sniffed the air appreciatively.

"You know, you smell great. Roses. Nice. Ouch!" he laughed as Iolaus landed a stiff punch on his upper arm, "It’s great to have you back, Iolaus."

"Well, I hope you realize now that you’re useless without me," Gabrielle grinned at Xena’s disbelieving look, "You could at least *pretend* to agree. So, are we going after this Delcius guy?"

"He’s probably already tucked tail and gone running to Garcius. So, we’ll pay them *both* a little visit," Xena smiled with anticipatory glee as they reached the doors to the feasting hall, and were bowed forward with a flourish by the two guards flanking the doorway. A servant led them to their seats, and they settled themselves just in time to see Hercules and Iolaus arrive, looking brushed and refreshed. Well, Hercules looked brushed; Iolaus’ hair was a tumbled mess, as usual.

Hercules and Iolaus stopped to greet them, and the two women stood.

"Iolaus. Xena told me all about you and your cousin. What a great story; the whole kingdom and the life of it’s rightful king saved by the daring and resourcefulness of .... What?" Gabrielle looked up in indignation as Xena tromped on her foot, "What did I say?"

She was saved by whatever scathing retort which Xena was about to favor her with, by a bustle at the door, which was followed by the other guests rising from their seats.

King Orestes had entered the room, with his Queen on his arm.

"Niobe, our newest guests; Hercules, Xena, and her companion, Gabrielle," Orestes’ blue eyes gleamed delightedly as Niobe acknowledged the introductions with a warm smile.

"I’m honored," Hercules managed, his eyes widening on Niobe’s beautiful, regal face. So, this was the queen who had stolen Iolaus’ heart. He turned his eyes to Iolaus, and felt a pang of jealousy at the sight of the blush which had risen to the hunter’s cheeks at the sight of his unattainable love. Jealousy, quickly stifled, and heartfelt sympathy.

"It is I who am honored, Hercules. And, indebted to you, as well, along with all of Attica. If you hadn’t surrendered the company of your valiant friend, the royal cousin, during those dark days, Attica may well have suffered a grievous loss," Niobe turned her to greet Xena, "Xena. I have heard much of you; I am honored to meet you, as well. I’m so sorry that I was unable to meet with you, earlier."

"King Orestes was kind enough to show me the gardens, Your Highness," Xena smiled at Orestes.

"Indeed? Did you find them to your liking?" Niobe’s tone was slightly cooler than before.

"Oh, yes. They’re beautiful. Although, at first, I was convinced that the king was Iolaus; I was trying desperately to get him away from the palace before anyone caught him impersonating royalty!"

"Really? I wish I’d seen that; I’ll bet Orestes was getting a kick out of it," Iolaus grinned at Xena, and she laughed with him.

"Yes, he did seem to be enjoying himself. The two of you apparently share the same sense of humor, as well as the same appearance," Xena smiled at the cousins with a good deal more warmth than Iolaus had seen from her since her redemption and their reconciliation.

"That would explain why Iolaus is only half as funny as he thinks he is," Hercules grinned archly at Iolaus, who made a half-hearted attempt to glower at him darkly.

"Any comparison made between my cousin and myself honors me," Orestes packed enough voltage into his stately expression to cause Iolaus to begin laughing heartily, while the others looked on in confusion.

Orestes laughed, winking at Iolaus, then he and Niobe moved forward to greet their other guests, and to take their seats at the head table, which was occupied only by the royal settings, and was flanked at right angles by two longer tables. Xena and Gabrielle settled themselves once again, Xena at Niobe’s immediate left, as Hercules and Iolaus were led to their places. Iolaus was at the king’s right hand, with one empty chair between them, and Hercules was at Iolaus’ right.

The company was settled in, enjoying the fine wine and pleasant conversation as they awaited the first course, when the doors opened to admit Aphrodite, followed by the besotted glances of the two door guards. Niobe lifted a brow as the king, himself, rose to escort the new arrival to her side.

"May I present Hercules’ sister, Aphrodite?"

"I am honored to meet you, Aphrodite," Niobe rose to incline her head to the erstwhile goddess, "I had no idea that you were gracing us with your presence."

"Are you kidding? There’s no *way* I would pass up a visit with the most bitchin’ king ever to grace a throne," Aphrodite laughed throatily as Orestes led her to her seat, between him and Iolaus.

She curled into her chair, immediately snaking her arm around Iolaus’ tight waist and smiling blindingly as he filled her wine goblet. The conversations around the table gradually resumed as she rewarded the hunter for his efforts by kissing his cheek. Niobe turned away from the sight abruptly, and began speaking to Xena, who was also watching the little tableau across the table.

"Mmmm, Sweetcheeks. You smell great! Rose?"

Iolaus sighed, and shook his golden head, resignedly.

"Aphrodite."

The former Goddess of Love drained her goblet lustily, not a bit daunted by her brother’s frown.

"Hercules?"

"We’ve got to talk."

"Talk?"

"Yes. To begin with, who has taken over your duties, now that you’re mortal? Have you given that any thought? I mean, apparently men and women are still feeling just fine about one another," He shot an amused look at Xena, who returned it uncomprehendingly, being a bit too far away to hear the conversation, "judging from Xena’s reaction to King Orestes ..."

"Her? No way! Her heart is already claimed, though I’m thinking of having Gabrielle fall in love with Joxer, just to pay Xena back. Do you think that I’ve forgotten what she did? I mean, these mortals misuse love all of the time, I’m kinda used to it, but, she used it to try to kill my own brother! And, Sweetcheeks, here, who’s way too pretty to waste!" Aphrodite’s indignation was overcome by something strangely near to sympathy as Iolaus abruptly turned his face away and busied himself with his wine goblet. She nestled against his muscular shoulder briefly, "I’m sorry, Iolaus," she turned her eyes back to Hercules again, and a new expression dwelt in those beautiful depths, "I’m still gonna make her pay!" she hissed at him.

"Oh? How? You’re a mortal now, remember? Besides, I think you might have another bone to pick. With whoever has taken your place."

"As if anyone could," she was silent for a moment, accepting Iolaus’ refilling of her goblet with a slight nod. She studied his face as he spoke across her to Hercules.

"What do you mean, Herc?"

"Her reaction to you, Iolaus. Doesn’t it strike you as being a bit, uh, over the top?"

Iolaus frowned.

"Yeah. Extremely."

The arrival of the first course interrupted Aphrodite’s indignant retort.

Orestes observed his guests as the feast proceeded. Niobe was engaged in conversation with Xena. Gabrielle was watching Aphrodite, Iolaus and Hercules, with undisguised glee.

"Feed me a grape, Iolaus?"

"What?" Iolaus stared at Aphrodite indignantly.

"Oh, come on, it’s easy," she demonstrated by popping a grape into his mouth, "See?"

"So, it’s true? You’re replacing Hephaestus with a mortal?"

All conversation around the tables ceased abruptly, as the diners took in the incredible sight of a winged, golden-haired youth, standing in the "U" of the tables, addressing Aphrodite, with his hands resting on his slender hips.

"Cupid?" Hercules voice rang like thunder through the room.

"Hi, Uncle Hercules. Well, Mom? Is it true? Are you in love with this guy?"

"That’s Iolaus, to you," the blonde warrior’s blue eyes crackled with a light which caused Hercules to push his chair back a bit and tense reflexively, "And, no, she’s not in love with me. She loves Hephaestus. She’s just ... confused right now. And, all you gods can do, is come around and yell at her! How about trying to help her?"

Aphrodite looked at Iolaus in amazement, then turned a suspiciously bright gaze upon her beautiful son.

"Did Hephie tell you that I was in love with Iolaus?"

"No, he didn’t have to. It’s all over Olympus. No one can find Hephaestus, but, I heard that he’s a basket case. So, are you bagging Hephaestus, or aren’t you?"

"He’s the one who’s bagging me! What am I supposed to do? I can’t go to Olympus. I can’t speak to Hephie. Or, to Zeus. I’m mortal!" a gasp rose up from the diners at this admission, but Aphrodite didn’t seem to notice, "If he won’t come and see me, I’m helpless. Do you have any idea what a total bummer that is?"

"That still doesn’t explain why you’re hanging all over this mortal."

"Why? Duh! He’s cute!"

"Actually, Cupid, I was wondering whether *you* might be able to tell us why she’s hanging all over my friend. My best friend. His name is Iolaus. Shall I introduce you formally, or can you start referring to him by name, now?" Hercules’ voice was quite cold.

Cupid studied his uncle speculatively. Hmmmm. Rather a passionate interjection, that. He smiled.

"Fine. Iolaus. Happy? What do you mean,* I* can tell you?"

"It’s simple. Someone must have taken over Aphrodite’s duties. Do you mean to tell me that it wasn’t you?"

"Exactly, dude. There’s no *way* I have time for all of that stuff; it’s all I can do to hit the right people each day."

Hercules sighed in exasperation.

"So, do you mind telling us just who *has* taken over?" he asked, almost patiently.

"Artemis."

"Artemis!!!!???" Iolaus, Hercules, and Aphrodite spoke simultaneously.

"Yeah. Athena was going to, but, she said it really fell more under the heading of sports. Personally, I think she figured out what a pain it is, and ditched the job, but, hey, it’s not my problem. Artemis is sure hating life, though."

Hercules and Iolaus exchanged looks.

"Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Herc?" Iolaus asked, quietly.

"Probably," Hercules turned toward King Orestes, "Your Highness, would it be acceptable for my nephew to join the feast?"

"It would be our honor," Orestes smiled sweetly, and motioned for another chair, which was placed next to Hercules.

Hercules waited for the diners to resume their meals and conversations, then addressed his nephew in a low voice.

"Cupid. You do know that Athena and Artemis have a grudge against Aphrodite, don’t you?" at Cupid’s nod, Hercules continued, "Well, you might not know this, but, they also have a grudge against Iolaus. It seems rather convenient, doesn’t it, that Aphrodite is made mortal, she and Iolaus *happen* to run into one another, and suddenly she’s crazy about him?"

Cupid studied Hercules silently for a moment, then turned an appraising stare toward Iolaus.

"Well, he *is* gorgeous, Hercules. You know that Mom has a real weak spot for a good-looking guy."

"To this extent? She’s met Iolaus before, Cupid. None of his good qualities ever seemed to have impressed themselves upon her. She’d just pinch his butt, and make his life miserable, then, go away."

"That does sound more like Mom," Cupid was silent for a moment, considering.

"So, you think that Athena and Artemis riled Zeus up on purpose? Then, made sure that she would meet up with me? And, made sure that Hephaestus found out ...?" Iolaus broke in, "All because I didn’t pick them in a stupid beauty contest?"

"Those *losers*! Will I ever make them pay for this one!" Aphrodite’s beautiful eyes gleamed balefully.

"Herc, we’ve got to fix this. We have to find Hephaestus, and explain it to him."

"What do you propose, Iolaus? We make a trip to Hephaestus’ Forge? That’ll take weeks!" Hercules sighed as he spoke.

"Well, then, I guess we’d better get started," Iolaus pushed back his chair, and Hercules’ knocked him back into it with a thump.

"I’ve got a better idea. Cupid."

"Cupid what?" Cupid asked, suspiciously.

Hercules smiled, winningly.

Iolaus grinned; he’d *told* Herc to try the smile!

Queen Niobe, in an effort to ignore the earnest conversation taking place at the king’s right, turned to Xena.

"Hector tells me that you ran into some of Garcius’ men on your way here."

"Briefly. He and I are old enemies; he’d sent some men to bring me to him," Xena’s eyes gleamed, balefully.

"So, you intend to go after him?"

"Well, I’d hate for him to have wasted all that perfectly good planning, and everything. He’s not terribly good at thinking; he probably had a headache for days after he came up with the idea of capturing me. I don’t want him to feel that it was for nothing."

Niobe exchanged a wordless glance with her husband, then turned back to Xena.

"If you’d be willing, I’d like to join you, with some of our troops. Garcius has been leading the occasional raid against the outlying villages of our kingdom. I would enjoy meeting him," Niobe and Xena smiled at one another.

"I doubt that he will find it as amusing as you will," Xena replied, savouring the fierce light in the Queen’s dark eyes.

Cupid vanished in a sparkling shower of golden light, which caused a slight lull in the conversation as the diners absorbed this new state of affairs. Niobe found her gaze wandering over to Iolaus, who was trying to avoid Aphrodite’s attempts to feed him grapes. Xena followed her gaze, and laughed at the sight.

"Looks like Iolaus has his hands full. Oh well, I’m sure he can handle it."

"You’ve known Iolaus for a while?" Niobe’s voice was carefully neutral.

"A few years."

"How did you meet?" Niobe didn’t miss the color mounting in Xena’s cheeks, nor Gabrielle’s less-than-subtle choking on a mouthful of venison.

"We weren’t on the same side, when we met," Xena’s expression made it clear that she had nothing further to offer on the subject.

Orestes, watching the interplay, decided to introduce a new topic of conversation, and began questioning Gabrielle about her writings. The bard was off and running, and Xena cast a brief, grateful glance at the king, who acknowledged it with the barest flicker of a smile, before returning his full attention to Gabrielle.

A golden shimmer illuminated Iolaus’ rose-scented room for a moment, then faded. Cupid, cloaked in godly invisibility, settled himself on the shallow, stone steps leading up to the head of the huge bed. He wanted to see just what was going on, and, from his vast experience as the God of Love, it seemed as though Iolaus’ bedchamber would be the perfect place to start.

He laughed to himself as he reviewed the orders his mother had given him when she pulled him aside; mortal or not, Aphrodite definitely knew her stuff. Hercules’ demands had been much less thrilling, so, Cupid had taken care of them, first. Now, to kick back and check out the situation, before finishing his duties.

He didn’t have long to wait; he hadn’t even gotten bored yet, when the doors swung open.

Iolaus entered, clambering up the steps and throwing himself onto the bed immediately.

"I hate the gods!" Iolaus addressed himself to the ceiling, heatedly, "Can’t they find anything better to do? It was just a beauty contest! And, they’re all beautiful; I told them that first thing!"

He started at the muffled snorts of godly laughter which greeted this outburst, then shook his head.

"The wine must’ve been stronger than I thought. Of course, I’ve still got an empty stomach; it’s a little difficult to eat when there’s a former goddess plastered to you! I never would’ve thought that the undivided attention of a beautiful woman could be so ... so ... annoying! If she were really in love with me, that would be one thing, but, she’s in love with *him*! She’s just trying to make him jealous. I’m sure of it. Pretty much. Bah!" He threw a pillow across the room, just as the door opened. The silken missile hit the newcomer square in the chest.

"Iolaus! What was that for?" Aphrodite threw the pillow right back. Iolaus was trying to make himself as small as possible, and she mounted the steps, with a gleam in her big, blue eyes.

"Aphrodite, listen to me," Iolaus held his hands out before him in a warding off gesture, backing up into the piled cushions at the head of the bed, "I know that you don’t love me. You’re just trying to make Hephaestus jealous. Can’t you drop the act when he’s not around; you know, kinda save up your, er, energy?"

Aphrodite slipped onto the bed, sending a furtive wink toward her son, and kissed Iolaus on the cheek.

"Don’t worry, Curly. I won’t ravish you. I’ll leave that to ...," she broke off, and tasted his lips softly.

"It’s not entirely an act; you are a sweetie, you know. As for Hephie; I guess he’s really written me off. It’s been days since we saw him," her beautiful eyes dimmed, and she looked away for a moment, before continuing, "Anyway, I came here to talk to you about my bratty sisters. We’ve got to figure out how to get revenge on them, for doing this to us. No way they’re clever enough to think of making me fall for you, but, I know that it’s their fault that you can’t put a foot right, these days. And, I’m *sure* that they talked Zeus into zapping me with this pathetic mortal whammy. You know, Cupid is *way* smart, of course, but what if he got sidetracked? I mean, we just can’t sit here, and wait. We should have a backup plan, or something."

Iolaus took her hand, which had somehow found it’s way to his chest, and was absently occupied with pushing his shirt open, and placed it carefully in her lap. Thus occupied, the hunter didn’t notice the quiet, offended ‘humph’ from Cupid’s vantage.

"Oh, no; count me out. Taking vengeance on the gods is not healthy for mortals. Trust me on this one. What we need to do is to figure out how to get Zeus to make you a goddess again. Artemis just doesn’t strike me as having the potential to make a proper goddess of love. Knowing her, people will probably have to run to Marathon and back in order to win the heart of the one they desire. We’d be too tired to do anything, once we finally got the chance. The human race would die out! Or, we’d end up with a race of mortals who had really, really outstanding stamina, and that might prove disastrous for the gods, if you catch my drift. No, we need to get you back into business. And, we need to explain to Hephaestus ..."

"Maybe, you need to explain to Hephaestus what Aphrodite is doing in your bed!" Hephaestus stood at the foot of the steps, glowering impressively.

Aphrodite’s face, which had lit with a beautiful smile at the sight of her lover, fell dramatically as he finished speaking. She opened her mouth to protest, but, found herself beginning to sob, instead. Hephaestus stopped frowning at once, mounting the stairs quickly and wrapping his arms around her protectively.

"Oh, ‘Dite; I’m sorry. Don’t cry! Everything’s going to be all right, I promise."

"How can it be all right?" She snuffled into Hephaestus’ broad chest, "I’m a mortal, and you’re being mean to me. And, Iolaus has a b ... broken toe, and you keep sh-showing up and h ... hitting him! And, it’s all my sisters’ fault, and I can’t tell Zeus ‘coz I’ mortal. And, I’m always hungry, or thirsty, or tired or s ... something. It’s totally gross! And, you don’t love me anymore!" She sobbed prettily, as Hephaestus stroked her tumbled hair, soothingly.

"It *will* be all right; you’ll see. Don’t cry. I ... I went to Zeus, and asked him to make me mortal, in exchange for your immortality. He promised that he’d think about it, and, I’m sure he’ll do it! I’ve already been banished from Olympus; they’ll never even notice the difference, if I’m made mortal. Besides, he misses you. How could he not miss you? You’ll be a goddess again in no time, ‘Dite. Don’t worry."

"You did that, for me?" She gazed up at him, tears sparkling in her eyes like diamonds. Iolaus, looking on in amazement, wondered again whether she really was mortal. Nobody looked that good when they were crying. Her nose wasn’t even red! "Oh, Hephie; does this mean that you still love me?" Aphrodite asked, meltingly.

"Of course, I do! I always will; you know that," he kissed her, softly.

"Hephie. You are awesome. I can’t let you do this, though. You have no idea how totally grody it is, being mortal. You’d hate it. Besides, I can’t be a goddess, while you’re a mortal. We’ll just have to think of something else."

The lovers turned their full attention to kissing. Iolaus, feeling as though he were a bit in the way, tried to back off of the bed without being noticed. Hephaestus’ arm shot out, and caught him by the front of the shirt. Aphrodite drew away, her eyes beginning to spark.

"Hephie! Leave him alone! He’s been perfectly sweet, the whole time!"

Iolaus put both hands on the huge one which held him immobile, trying to break the god’s crushing grip.

The door crashed open against the wall.

"Hephaestus! Let him go!"

Three faces turned toward the new arrival, all, in their shock, bearing a strong resemblance to landed carp.

"It’s all right, Hercules; I won’t hurt him. Much," Hephaestus made no move to release the trapped hunter.

Hercules flew up the steps, and grabbed Iolaus’ shoulders, intending to pull him away from Hephaestus. Aphrodite wrapped her arms around the golden warrior’s tight waist, and began tugging to help Hercules free him from her swain’s grip. A meaningful cough turned four pair of eyes back toward the door.

Xena stood, framed by the doorway, her eyebrows lifted.

"Admittedly, he’s hung, but are you sure there’s enough of him to go around?"

More disembodied chortling sounded, quickly smothered. None of the mortals noticed, nor did the gods acknowledge his presence, and Cupid breathed a (silent) sigh of relief. This was turning out to be quite interesting.

Hephaestus and Hercules both released Iolaus abruptly, and he fell back onto the bed.

"Xena? What are you doing here?" something rather like suspicion colored Hercules’ question.

Iolaus, hearing that tone, righted himself, and opened his mouth for a vehement protest.

"I was looking for Gabrielle," Xena stated, flatly.

"Here?" Iolaus’ voice rose a few registers with surprise. He levered himself off of the bed and limped down the stairs, to stand before Xena with his hands on his hips, "Why are you looking for Gabrielle *here*?"

Xena looked a dagger or two down at him, but, he remained unmoved.

"Because ..."

"Xena? What are you doing here?" Gabrielle closed the door quietly behind herself, her eyes going from Xena to Iolaus, then back again.

"I was looking for you," Xena snapped, "What are *you* doing here?"

"Why were you looking for me here?" Gabrielle asked, suspiciously.

"That’s what *I* * asked!" Iolaus exclaimed, triumphantly.

"Well, you’re here, aren’t you?" Xena accused.

"Yes, I am. Because I saw *you* coming in here!" Gabrielle bristled.

The door opened once again, and Niobe entered, looking at the trio before her, then lifting her gaze to the divine trio on and around the bed.

"Niobe," Iolaus breathed, stepping around Xena and Gabrielle to take the queen’s hands in his own.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, but, I’m not sure what it is," Iolaus’ blue eyes twinkled up at her.

"Wait just a minute! I hate to interrupt the parade, here, but, Hephaestus, I’ve got to explain what’s been going on; you can’t keep trying to throttle Iolaus. He’s innocent," Hercules’ face looked like a thundercloud.

"He’s right, sweetie. There’s no reason for you to pound on Iolaus," Aphrodite snuggled up against Hephaestus, "What we really need to do is to figure out what to do about my sisters!"

"Well, how about another contest?" Hercules asked.

"Real funny, big brother. Seriously, if Cupid ..."

Aphrodite and the God of Fire disappeared in a golden dazzle.

Iolaus blinked.

"I really hate that."

"Just great," Hercules sighed.

He stomped down the stairs and joined the group by the door. He noticed that Iolaus was looking at him strangely, and raised his eyebrows questioningly, then coughed in sudden understanding. He took Xena’s arm and reluctantly steered her toward the balcony, with a meaningful glance in Gabrielle’s direction. She caught on immediately, and followed, leaving the queen and the hunter alone in the room.

"Niobe. I’m so sorry about all of the confusion; I should have known better than to head here, the way my luck has been running."

"Iolaus. Just what is going on?" Niobe studied his features, a tiny voice in the back of her mind wondering whether it would be all that wonderful, being the beloved of a man with such a ... colorful lifestyle.

"Well, it all started when ..."

"Cousin. Niobe."

The two started, and Iolaus slowly released Niobe’s hands, as Orestes closed the door.

King Orestes! How wonderful that you’ve joined the party."

Xena strolled back into the room, followed closely by Gabrielle and Hercules.

A hint of relief, quickly masked, flickered through Orestes’ cerulean gaze.

"Xena. Yes, there does appear to be a bit of a crowd here, doesn’t there?"

"You should have been here two minutes ago. You know, I found the palace to be a lot more restful, last time. Even though people kept trying to kill me," Iolaus sighed, grinning.

"Well, cousin, it normally *is* just a bit quieter, here in Attica. I can’t quite put my finger on what might have caused the change ..." Orestes and Iolaus laughed, and Niobe turned to speak to Xena, pulling her aside to discuss the coming campaign, with Gabrielle on their heels.

Iolaus limped back up to the bed again, and sat on the edge. Hercules and Orestes joined him, silently.

After a moment, Hercules could stand it no longer.

"Iolaus. Just what happened with Aphrodite and Hephaestus? He looked like he was about to strangle you, when I walked in here."

"Yeah. He’s a pretty hot-tempered guy, you know that? Of course, I can’t blame him. Aphrodite is beautiful, and all, but if she were my sweetheart, I’d probably be fairly testy, myself."

"Well, you were in bed with her," Hercules sounded decidedly peevish, though Iolaus didn’t appear to notice. Orestes laughed softly.

"Herc! Give me a little credit, OK? We were just talking. Do you want to know what happened, or don’t you?" Iolaus tilted his blonde head defiantly.

"Iolaus," Hercules slipped into his special ‘Iolaus, I mean it’ tone, again. The demigod was obviously relieved when Iolaus responded to it immediately, and Orestes laughed, again.

"OK, Herc, keep your tunic on. Hephaestus apparently went to Zeus and said that he’d trade his immortality for Aphrodite’s. Then, Aphrodite said that she wouldn’t let him. They were pretty happy with one another, and, I thought that maybe I should leave, because ... well, you know. So, I tried to leave, and Hephaestus decided to rip my chest off. Like I said; he’s got a pretty short fuse."

"Hephaestus went to *Zeus*? Hera must be livid! I wonder if Cupid got to Zeus, first?"

Iolaus laughed.

"Well, my dinars are on the god with the wings. I just hope Cupid was persuasive enough."

Iolaus lay back on the bed, and closed his eyes, mentally cheering Cupid on. The invisible, golden god smiled down at him, hotly.

Hercules engaged the soft-voiced king in conversation; he was fascinated by Orestes. The very image of the demigod’s best friend, yet, reserved where Iolaus was outgoing, dignified where Iolaus was wild, cautious where Iolaus was impulsive. Still, the king’s admiration and regard for Iolaus were evident in all of his dealings with the hunter, and Hercules was warmed by that fact.

He glanced over at Niobe, deeply engrossed in her discussion with Xena. A proud, fierce, and regal woman, from all appearances. He knew what a struggle it was for Iolaus to be in the presence of the queen; he loved her, yet could never allow himself to speak of it. From what he’d seen of Orestes, the king was far too perceptive not to have noticed Iolaus’ devotion to the queen, nor Niobe’s answering love for the bold, blonde hunter. What a pity. Three good people, with aching hearts. An answering ache lanced his own heart, as he looked down at Iolaus, spread temptingly across the bed. An ache which he studiously ignored.

He turned his attention back to Orestes, and found the king studying him, closely. He was saved from those knowing eyes, by Iolaus, who chose that moment to sit up.

You know, I’m hungry. Maybe we should hunt for ...," Iolaus groaned, as golden light washed the room, "Oh, no; not again!"

Cheer up, Sweetcheeks! You’re off the hook!" Aphrodite smiled and placed one hand on the curve of her hip. Her hair was a golden waterfall, and her eyes shone brighter than the most precious gems. Her painfully perfect body was once again swathed in diaphanous pink.

"Y ... you’re a goddess, again?"

"Right first try, Curly."

Iolaus leapt from the bed and hobbled back down the steps, wrapping his arms around her in a fierce hug.

"That’s wonderful! That’s fantastic! Oh, man, am I relieved, or what?" Iolaus beamed.

Hephaestus harrumphed, and Iolaus released Aphrodite abruptly, turning to the God of Fire.

"Congratulations, Hephaestus. How’d you do it?" Iolaus was relieved when Aphrodite wound herself around Hephaestus and landed a few kisses on his jaw. Hephaestus appeared to like it a whole lot more that Iolaus had.

"It wasn’t anything, really. Zeus was so angry when he found out that Artemis and Athena had used him to get back at Aphrodite for that whole beauty contest thing .. by the way, Iolaus, you sure picked right on that one," Aphrodite beamed at Hephaestus’ words, and rewarded her lover with another kiss, "Anyway, he was so mad, that he couldn’t wait to grant Aphrodite immortality once again. Besides, he wanted me out of his sight. You know, I wonder how he found out about Artemis and ..."

Aphrodite interrupted him smoothly, tweaking his earlobe as she spoke.

"Come on, Hephie, don’t be so modest," she winked at Hercules and Orestes, and took up the tale, "Zeus told us that he was impressed by Hephie’s willingness to give up his godhood for my sake. Plus; no way he wants to miss out on all of those cool weapons and stuff that my sweetie forges! You’re like, a total hero, Hephster!" she kissed him again, "Speaking of heroes; turn your back, Hephie. I know a hero who deserves a reward for not feeding me to the wolves the moment he saw me."

Aphrodite stepped up to Iolaus, and put her arms around him, planting her lips on his in a no-nonsense kiss. Iolaus, realizing after a moment that resistance was futile, gave up and returned the kiss with every ounce of skill and enthusiasm at his disposal. As he possessed both qualities in unusual abundance, everyone else in the room was goggle-eyed by the time Aphrodite broke away. Everyone, except Hephaestus, who had turned his back, which left him staring directly at Xena, Gabrielle, and Niobe. Their expressions, as they watched the mutual mouth-plundering behind him, did not reassure him.

"Whoa. I shoulda done that *days* ago. Sweetcheeks, you are quite a find. Lucky Hercules," Aphrodite trailed a finger along the dimple in one lean cheek, then turned back to Hephaestus, "Thanks, Hephie. You’re the best," she put her arms around him, and the worried anger disappeared from his face.

"Just, don’t do it again, OK? And, Iolaus; thanks. ‘Dite told me that ... well, just, thanks. Sorry I was planning to pound you into the dirt. Really," Hephaestus sounded sincere. And, as Iolaus had no choice, he accepted the apology with a sunny grin, gripping the god’s arm in a cautious gesture of peace.

Hercules approached and pulled Iolaus limpingly to the side, and Orestes descended the steps to join his wife, stopping to congratulate Aphrodite on his way. She kissed his cheek, and had the audacity to ruffle the smooth, royal locks. He smiled sweetly, and winked at her, before moving to Niobe’s side, taming his hair as he did so.

The discussion of the campaign resumed, gaining volume as Niobe and Xena began disputing a point of strategy. Hephaestus began doing his best to remind Aphrodite that gods can kiss just as well as mortals. They were both taking the attempt quite seriously.

Hercules looked down at Iolaus.

"My room?"

Iolaus took in the confusion surrounding them.

"Good idea. It doesn’t smell like roses, does it?"

Hercules draped an arm around his shoulders, and steered him toward the door.

"Nah."

"Do you have to climb stairs to get to the bed?"

"No."

"Kewl. I’m moving in," Iolaus grinned irrepressibly.

"Fine. Whatever. Now, how about you start from the beginning ..." they had almost reached the door.

Cupid sighed. Looked like the show was over. Time to get back to work. He stood and stretched luxuriantly.

Speaking of work ...

He readied his bow and drew, taking careful aim.

Hercules stopped in his tracks, staring down at the golden head beside him.

"Iolaus," Hercules’ voice was dreamy.

"Herc?" Iolaus looked up at his companion, and a concerned frown crossed his features, "Are you all right?"

"Iolaus. You are so beautiful."

"What?" Iolaus squeaked.

"Beautiful. Iolaus..."

Aphrodite and Hephaestus stopped kissing, as Cupid abandoned his invisibility and stood beside them. He gestured with his eyes, and Aphrodite turned to enjoy the sight of her brother staring besottedly into the wide, blue eyes of his mortal friend.

"Good work, Cupid," Aphrodite commented.

"Just following your orders," Cupid grinned.

Hercules reached out, placing a trembling hand under Iolaus’ hair, against the side of his warm, strong throat. He pulled Iolaus toward him, and bent to taste the hunter’s tender, tempting mouth. Iolaus melted against him, moaning and wrapping his arms around Hercules’ neck, his mouth opening readily to the demigod’s insistent tongue.

A sudden hush fell over the room as Xena and Niobe followed Orestes’ interested gaze, and they saw the torrid tableau before them

Xena gasped.

"Hercules!"

"Iolaus?" Niobe quavered.

"Nice work, cousin," Orestes applauded.

Gabrielle blushed.

Neither Hercules nor Iolaus heard them; Hercules lifted Iolaus into his arms, brushing past Aphrodite as he headed up the steps to deposit his precious burden on the bed.

"I hope you’re feeling strong, big brother; if his lovemaking is anything like his kissing, you’re gonna need stamina," Aphrodite laughed.

"He’ll need stamina, all right; Iolaus fucks like a tiger," Xena was beginning to see the humor in the situation, and she smiled into Niobe’s eyes as the queen bristled a bit. Xena shrugged, and returned her interested gaze to the entwined warriors on the bed.

Hercules, meanwhile, had just removed Iolaus’ shirt and thrown it over his shoulder. It landed on Hephaestus’ head, and Aphrodite giggled as she pulled it off and tossed it onto a nearby chair. A clatter sounded; Iolaus’ belts had just hit the floor at Xena’s feet. His boots followed, and Gabrielle ducked just in time to avoid receiving a black eye from the flying footgear. The hunter’s leather pants were next.

Iolaus returned the favor, stripping Hercules of his clothing with desperate dispatch. Hercules pushed him back into the bed, and Iolaus went willingly, spreading his legs to allow Hercules to settle between his muscular thighs.

"Herc! Yes!" Iolaus gasped, sweetly, as Hercules licked his way down the golden warrior’s satin chest, making a feverish beeline for Iolaus’ turgid, twitching shaft.

"Cupid, did you shoot Sweetcheeks, too?"

"Nah. It was practically a waste of an arrow to hit Uncle Hercules, the way he’s been lusting after Iolaus. Not that I blame him; that little guy is a total fuckin’ babe. Hercules just needed a little push. But, shooting Iolaus; that’d be like carrying a basket of olives to the Athenian Groves. Wow! Look at ‘em go!"

Hercules’ face was buried in Iolaus’ writhing groin, and the hunter’s enthusiastic cries, and Hercules’ understandably muffled moans, colored the air.

"Perhaps, we should allow Hercules and the royal cousin some privacy?" Orestes suggested.

Cupid eyed him speculatively, and glided over to stand before him. Yumm. A dead ringer for Iolaus.

"Yeah. What say you and I take a stroll in the gardens?" The beautiful, winged youth smiled hotly at the golden king, who returned the smile, slowly.

"That’s an excellent idea. I have a small errand to attend to first; perhaps you can assist me. Xena, Gabrielle, I will see you tomorrow. Good night, Niobe. Aphrodite, Hephaestus, farewell."

Orestes bowed, and gracefully led a gleeful Cupid from the room.

Aphrodite blew a kiss in the direction of Hercules’ bobbing head, as she and Hephaestus vanished.

Xena tore her eyes away from the couple on the bed, and took Niobe’s arm in one hand, and Gabrielle’s in the other.

"I’ve got a great big bathtub in my room. Let’s hop into it and put it to some good use; I’m feeling a bit warm, suddenly."

Gabrielle laughed happily.

"Sounds great! Let’s grab a few flasks of wine, on the way. *Bathing* is very thirsty work."

Xena grinned; she’d really been missing Gabrielle. She and her companion dragged the dazed queen from the room.

"Oh, Herc, that’s so good. Don’t stop," Iolaus bent his knees and raised his hips, thrusting upward. Hercules followed, grasping Iolaus’ hips with one hand, while the other steadied the stiffened cock upon which he was feasting. He removed it from his mouth for a moment, to nibble along the base and teasingly tongue Iolaus’ tight balls.

"No, please! Don’t stop. I’m going to ..." Iolaus groaned with relief as Hercules’ mouth surrounded his shaft once again, sucking avidly. He gasped. His hands, which had been clutching at Hercules’ shoulders, buried themselves in the demigod’s thick hair, holding his head still as Iolaus pumped ferociously into his mouth. Iolaus cried out as his body rocked with a shattering orgasm, shooting his hot seed into the wet warmth which surrounded his pulsing cock.

Hercules licked him clean, nuzzling through the soft, golden hair which graced Iolaus’ groin.

"Herc. Quick," Iolaus twisted beneath him, coming up on his hands and knees and looking back over his shoulder, panting with desire. Hercules had to close his eyes quickly and take a deep breath; he’d almost spent his seed at the mere sight of the tight, inviting buttocks, and the tiny, puckered entrance which was being offered to him, insistently.

"I need some oil, or ..."

"Use some of my cum," Iolaus gasped, "Hurry!"

"I swallowed it all," Hercules blushed.

Iolaus sat back on his heels, leaning back against Hercules.

"Churl! Drunk all, and left no friendly drop to use as lube?" Iolaus grinned, wickedly.

"What?"

Iolaus sighed.

"Never mind," he reached between Hercules’ thighs, wrapping one hand around Hercules’ throbbing cock. With the other, he stroked his own renewing erection, "Just spit on your hands, and I’ll grit my teeth. Come on!" he started to drop back into position, then twisted, as a sweet voice caressed his ears.

"That won’t be necessary, cousin. I took the liberty of anticipating just such an occurrence," Orestes and Cupid stood by the bed. The god held a huge basket, which he placed beside the lovers.

Hercules and Iolaus peered into it; it contained several oil vials, a few flasks of wine, and a quantity of soft cloths. They looked back up at Orestes. He winked, and leaned down to kiss Iolaus thoroughly, his hand straying down Iolaus’ chest and abdomen, to trace longingly over the hunter’s stiffening cock. Just as Hercules was considering regicide (and Cupid was considering the infinite possibilities), the golden king pulled away.

"Enjoy," Orestes turned to leave, then looked up at Cupid with a wicked gleam. Turning back, he retrieved a vial of oil and a cloth.

Cupid draped his arm around Orestes’ waist as they headed toward the gardens, his hand resting happily on the king’s muscular ass.

"So, Your Highness, would you like to join the League High Club?" he purred against the royal, golden head.

"Probably," Orestes answered, calmly, "What is it?"

"Ooooh, baby. I think I’m in love," Cupid grinned.

"Oh, Iolaus. Stop, or ..." Hercules moaned with mixed relief and regret as Iolaus’ talented, oil-slick hands abandoned the demigod’s aching shaft. He flipped the mortal onto his stomach, and pulled the slim hips up to meet his groin. He slipped his rigid cock teasingly over the hunter’s anus, then slid an oily finger slowly past the clutching ring of muscle.

Iolaus, who’d been hoping for something considerably larger, nearly sobbed with frustration.

"Herc, *please*!"

Hercules would have loved to tease Iolaus until he was writhing with need ...

‘Hmmm,’ Hercules reflected, ‘he *is* writhing!’

... but, he was ready to burst, himself. He placed the engorged head of his cock against the tight little hole, and pushed. After a few mighty efforts, the head slipped inside, and the world swan around Hercules as the gripping darkness clutched at him. He shouted as Iolaus, never the most passive of men, thrust back forcefully, completely impaling himself. The hunter began thrusting back with a twisting, maddening rhythm, and Hercules gathered his senses, joining in the dance. He reached around Iolaus, gathering the hunter’s aching cock in a shaking hand, and stroking it in time to the rhythm of his hips.

Iolaus’ moans grew in volume, and frequency. They became shouts, cries of pure lust, wordless for the most part, although Hercules’ name received an occasional, delirious, mention. Iolaus’ sex-charged screams, mingled with Hercules’ roars of delight, echoed down the corridors of the palace.

Gabrielle, who had been pleasantly occupied by trying to break her own personal best record of just how long it could take her to nibble her tantalizing way from Xena’s neck to her quivering thighs, raised her head.

"Wow! Listen to that! Was Iolaus always that noisy, Xena?"

Xena disengaged her mouth from Niobe’s, and cocked her head, considering the question, and the raucous song of love which had inspired it.

"Well, he was always really vocal, but nowhere near this loud. Come to think of it, Hercules wasn’t ever that loud, either. I guess they just ... inspire one another," she grinned down at Gabrielle, and winked at Niobe, "I’ve got an idea. Let’s try to drown them out!"

They tried.

Hercules shuddered as Iolaus’ cock throbbed, and the hunter’s cum covered his pumping hand. Iolaus’ body tightened around him, and Hercules thrust feverishly, howling through an orgasm of such intensity that his legs collapsed beneath him, and he fell forward onto Iolaus. He lay there, gasping into the hunter’s sweat-soaked blonde hair, until his dazed mind registered the fact that Iolaus was squirming beneath him, desperately. He regretfully pulled out of the intoxicatingly tight warmth, pushed along by Iolaus’ internal muscles, and rolled off, lying on his back and panting up at the ceiling.

Iolaus filled his lungs with air, gratefully. He’d thought for a minute that he was going to end up at Hades’ doorstep yet again, this time because Hercules had smothered him after sex. He could just *hear* the jokes from Charon over that one. An eternity of them.

Hercules reached over and pulled Iolaus toward him, for a nice, warm cuddle.

The late night hush which shrouded the palace gardens was broken by a loud double splash in the small lake. Cupid surfaced, coughing, followed immediately by Orestes.

"Cold!" Orestes exclaimed, and swam briskly to shore, dragging himself up onto the grassy bank. Cupid joined him, pulling the soggy king into a passionate embrace, which escalated with amazing rapidity. Orestes pulled away slightly, teeth chattering.

"That was incredible. Of course, the landing was a bit rocky ..." he nibbled at Cupid’s earlobe.

"Yeah. I’ve never lost control like that, before; I’m sure glad we were over a lake. What a killer orgasm! I thought my eyes were going to pop out! Come on," he rose, grabbing Orestes’ hand and yanking him to his feet, dragging him palaceward, "Let’s try it in a bed, this time. Not as far to fall."

Orestes was all for this plan. He was also looking forward to seeing the expressions on the faces of the door guards, at the sight of their king, naked and wet, accompanied by a winged god in a similar state. Nothing like a little interruption of routine, to keep the troops sharp.

Dawn crept quietly in, softly caressing the luxurious appointments of the palace. It cast tender, golden fingers along the slightly damp, tangled threesome sprawled, slumbering, across Xena’s huge bed. It lingered lovingly over the writhing ivory and gold pretzel of god and king in Orestes’ suite, and tickled it’s way across Hercules, and his lithe lover. Their bed, and the steps surrounding it, were littered with empty oil vials, stained cloths, and overturned wine flasks. The detritus of debauchery.

Iolaus, who had just screamed his way hoarsely through his fifth orgasm of the night, watched the light threading through Hercules’ honey-brown hair. The demigod was already asleep, one arm and one leg thrown possessively over Iolaus. The hunter smiled, and pillowed his head on Hercules’ biceps.

Maybe a brief nap, before beginning the erotic journey to orgasm number six. He bent his head to nibble at Hercules’ nipple, and Hercules smiled, sighing in his sleep.

Iolaus rested his head again.

"Looks like my luck has finally changed," he murmured against his lover’s skin, as sleep claimed him.

THE END