Authors: Candace and Erin, Penners of Prolific P0rn0

Part 12 Author: Erin

Fandom: HtLJ - X:WP

Pairing: Hints of Ares/Joxer.

Summary: Checking up on his boys in the mortal world, Ares sees something that makes his own world crumble.

Archive: Candace's Fugue, Erin's House-O-Fanfic, our LJs, RCoS.

Feedback: Gimme, gimme, gimme.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Hanky alert! Well, I know *I* cried 'cuz it's all just sooooo romantic and sad and sweet!!!!1!!

Disclaimers: We don'ts own them, but we wishes we did, yeessss, we do, Precious.
 

AN: ^*=emphasis

~!!~!!~!!~!!~!!~!!~!!~!!
PAIR OF FOOLS
PART 12
!!~!!~!!~!!~!!~!!~!!~

Ares was bored. He sat on his big throne in his Olympian temple, glaring because he was so bored. With Discord off doing Fates knew what and Strife down in the Mortal Realm with Cupid, the War God was lacking for entertainment. He'd hadn't hardly realized how much entertainment his underlings provided until they weren't there to do it. He especially missed having Strife around.

As much as the God of War yelled at his nephew, he absolutely adored Little Mischief. The thought made him smile fondly because this was what they'd called Strife when he'd been a child. He'd been all wide big baby blue eyes and innocent trouble, wrapping everyone in sight around his tiny finger. He'd been born far to early and Discord had been weakened by the birth. She loved her Little Mischief with all her heart but she hadn't had the strength to nurse him. Always close to his favorite sister, Ares had been moved by her saddening predicament and had asked Hera to grant him the power to help, which she'd granted gladly, happy to have a way to help her favorite daughter. So it'd been Ares who breast fed Strife through his first couple years and as a result he'd grown closer to Strife than he ever had to Cupid. He regretted that now and wished he'd asked Dite and Hera for permission to help feeding Cupid, then he'd have a far better relationship with his son.

As much as Ares loved his nephew though, he couldn't allow the Mischief God to screw up with no consequences, he'd never learn anything that way. So as much as it particularly pained him, the God of Mischief had really reluctantly sent Strife off with Cupid. Although, there were a few possible perks to that. Ares had known for years that Strife had a thing for Cupid, even if the Mischief God wouldn't admit it, so maybe throwing them together would spark something.

That gave Ares an idea of what to do. He'd watch his son and nephew for awhile!! See what they were up to.

Calling up a portal -- like a big mirror only shimmering in the air in front of him -- he focused it on his boys. He expected to see the two of them trudging truly tragically through the mud, looking horribly miserable and pathetic. He'd even hoped to catch them making out -- although the thought made him blush a bit. What he ^*didn't*^ expect to see was his brown haired, heavily muscled baby brother and his beautiful blond blue-eyed boy toy, although the Golden Hunter was looking a little more green than Golden, although that wasn't stopping him from eating the handful of berries he held in his hand.

"O, great, Hercules," Ares sighed in frustrated despair. The sight of his little brother always depressed him. He just couldn't understand why they couldn't just get along.

He'd tried for years to explain things to the demi-god, that war was necessary to keep the Greek population in check and that Ares, while being the God of War, didn't really ^*like*^ fighting. His buff, built body was all for show, he'd never done much real fighting. He was always so worried that he'd hurt an innocent mortal. Ares held life sacred and did everything he could to limit casualties in his wars to only what was absolutely necessary and he cried for every life that was lost.

Herk didn't understand that though, all he saw was the lives lost and he blamed the War God for it and everything else that went wrong in his life. There'd just been two many misunderstandings between them, starting back in his little brother's Academy days when Ares had just been trying to make friends with Hercules and the demi-god had mistaken it for aggression, based on all the false rumors and tales spread around about the God of War's violent nature. The brown-eyed half-god had never had an open mind and he'd formed his opinion of his earthen-eyed uncle early on, rebuffing all of the War God's heartfelt attempts at forming a close familial relationship. Worse still, Hercules spread his opinions of the God of War around to the population of Greece, making people hate Ares for no good reason and every bad thought directed the War God's way was like a dagger to his large heart, making him break down in hysterics at times. Thankfully Discord and Strife were usually there for him to lean on. But they weren't today.

Just when depression threatened to overwhelm Ares, the picture in the portal panned right and suddenly he found himself faced with -- "***JOXER***!!!!!!" the dirt-eyed leather-clad, muscle-bound, deep-voiced, black-haired War God gasped in joyous surprise. There he was, walking along like a vision of scrap metal and pallid skin, Ares' secret love.

He could never admit it aloud, not when Zeus might hear and kill the mortal out of spite, just because it would wound the War God, but Ares had been in love with Joxer since the moment the mortal had stumbled his way into his daughter's life. Xena had looked after Joxer at Ares' request and he suspected that she suspected that he had feelings for Joxer, but she was as concerned for innocents just as much as he was and she'd protect the Wannabe-Warrior just as well as the War God would.

Ares looked in on him as often as possible, eyes roaming over Joxer's curves, those lovely lanky legs and gorgeously goofy grin. Joxer was so much more intelligent than he let on, often saving the day in the background and putting up with the abuse heaped on him by that babbling blond bimbo Xena insisted on traveling with. He'd never understood his daughter's taste in women, but apparently Joxer shared that taste.

The day the War God realized that Joxer loved Gabrielle had been a harsh blow to him. He'd done everything to protect his Love and was working up the courage to approach him, and now he'd lost him because Joxer seemed blind in love, wasting his priceless affections on that harpy. He couldn't see that Gabby was the most selfish person in Greece, that she took joy in hurting others and cared for nothing unless it directly affected her. Ares wanted to show Joxer how love should be, how the God of War was ready to shower true, selfless love upon him for the rest of Joxer's life.

The problem was that Ares was afraid. It wasn't just his bad reputation, which was wicked and would probably turn Joxer against him the moment he appeared, but there was more. The God of War was a virgin. He'd been with women before, Aphrodite and Discord, to be precise, and only a couple times, but he'd never met a man he'd felt comfortable enough with to give himself too. Until he'd met Joxer.

He wanted to tell the Wannabe-Warrior that, that Ares adored him and trusted him enough to give himself completely, to let Joxer have what no man had ever taken before. He wanted to make sweet love with Joxer, to hold the beautiful mortal in his arms and abandon himself to the brown-haired man's attentions. He wanted...eternity.

But how could he ever have it? Even if Joxer saw past the horrible reputation Hercules had cursed him with, Ares didn't think Zeus would ever allow him happiness. Joxer's life would be in danger and the War God couldn't allow that.

Suddenly the view changed and Ares' brown eyes widened in shocked horror. There was that annoying thief Autolycus, talking to the War God's Joxer, putting an arm around the Wannabe-Warrior's shoulder, and Joxer ^*SMILED*^ at him!!!!

"O, Fates, how can this be **HAPPENING**??!!!???!!!!" Ares wailed, tears sliding down his tanned cheeks. "First Gabrielle and now **##AUTOLYCUS##**??????!!!! O, Joxer, why not ***ME***??????????" And he broke down sobbing, tears pouring from his beautiful watery brown orbs. His heart wrenching sobs and cries echoed throughout the airily bright temple and leaked out -- and someone heard.

+_+_+_+
Erin
-----
Oiler of Cupid's chiseled chest
Polisher of Beraeus' crown jewels

Erin's House-O-Fanfic
http://www.slashaholics.org/erin/warning.html

House-O-Fanfic mailing list
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/House_O_Fanfic/

IWJTCSN mailing list
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/IWJTCSN/

Ravings of an Unbalanced Mind
http://erinslashslut.livejournal.com/

My AdultFanFiction.Net page
http://adultfan.nexcess.net/aff/authors.php?no=9038

My FanFiction.Net page
http://www.fanfiction.net/~erinstrifelvr
 

Title: Pair of Fools 13/31

Authors: Errin' and Candass

Part 13 Author: Candass

Fandom: HtLJ - X:WP

Pairing: Twins. A striving toward J

Summary: 'Dite encourages Ares to follow his dreams. She didn't know he'd employ a zombie to do it.

Archive: Candace's Fugue, Erin's House-O-Fanfic, our LJs, RCoS.

Feedback: Yeah, baby!

Rating: PG

Warnings: Twinnage. Fatty food. Dead body.

Disclaimers: If I said I did own them, would that make me delusional, and therefore immune to litigation?
 

##-##-##-##-##-##
PAIR OF FOOLS
Part Lucky 13
##-##-##-##-##-##
 

“Yo, bro’,” said Aphrodite, appearing in a scintillating cloud of pink hearts, blue diamonds and purple horseshoes. “What’s with all the gnarly *heaviness?* I could *feel* your heart breaking from miles away!”

“Dite,” Ares said, chin quivering with emotion. “It figures.” Ares emitted a long, loud sniff. “No one can ever hide a broken heart from you.”

“You got that right,” she preened, and then she realized the implication of what her favorite brother had just confessed. “Oh, Arry,” she cried, fluttering to his side. “Tell Dite-wite who bwoke your wittie-bitty heart!”

Ares slumped onto his grim throne of gristle and bone. “It’s my own fault,” he said, shaking his head. “I waited too long to tell him. I watched from afar, thinking that somehow, someday, he would be the one.”

Aphrodite’s lush breasts jutted. “...and then?”

Ares buried his face in his hands. “I think I’m too late,” came his broken murmur.

“It’s never to late as long as, like, love lives in your heart.” Aphrodite’s svelte form shimmered around the edges as she grew transparent. “Remember that always, little bro.” And with that, she was gone.

Fresh tears shimmered in Ares’ eyes--tears of hope. “That’s right. I *will* have you, Joxer. It was *meant* to be!!!”

*****

Invisible to mortal eyes, Deimos and Phobos sprawled in a plot of hyacinth and jasmine outside the gates of Zebron. Deimos lay on his back, head cradled in his twin’s lap, while Phobos dangled a bunch of plump, dewy grapes over his lips. One at a time, Deimos plucked each succulent fruit with his lips, traced the elongated roundness with his tongue, and then bit down, popping the innards from the flesh in a splash of tart juice. He ground each bit of succulent flesh to a pulp, and swallowed.

“Y’know,” Phobos sighed. “I hate mortals.”

“Yeah,” said Deimos dreamily. “Me too.” He chewed, and thought. “So why do you hate ‘em?”

“They’re weak. And stupid. And annoying.”

Deimos nodded.

“Why do you hate ‘em?” Phobos queried.

Deimos shrugged. “Just ‘cos they’re there.”

“Good enough.”

The flaxen-haired twins lay among the flowers for a goodly while, lost in each others’ sky-colored eyes, when eventually Deimos broke their companionable silence. “So Cupe an’ Strife are kinda mortal now. Ya hate them?”

Phobos considered. “Not for being sorta mortal, no. But Cupid’s always been so stuck up. Flexing his muscles. Ruffling his wings. Fletching his arrows. Too good to hang out with us.”

“And what about Strife?” Deimos went on, raising himself up on his elbows to get his face closer to Phobos’. “Always trying to prove to Ares how much better he is than us. At everything.”

Phobos leaned down, but his lips couldn’t quite reach his brother’s. They held their faces there, nearly touching, breath tickling each other’s chins. “What do you think,” Deimos asked. “If we want to get back at ‘em, now’s the time to strike ‘em down. While they’re weak.”

“Yeah. I suppose. But....”

“But what?”

Phobos sighed. He plucked a flower and twirled it under Deimos’ chin, leaving a tiny, yellow circle in its wake. “I just haven’t been feeling quite myself lately. I don’t know what it is. That buzz I get from stopping hearts with terror and bursting blood vessels with fright doesn’t appeal to me right now. I just wanna be lazy. Feel your arms around me.” Phobos’ eyes went misty. “Make sweet love to you.”

Deimos rose from his brother’s lap and began unlacing Phobos’ brown leathers, wetting his lips eagerly. “It has been almost three whole hours.”

“I know,” said Phobos with a promising twinkle in his eye.

Invisible to mortals, Deimos and Phobos joined their bodies, their souls merging in the utmost joy of each others’ tender embrace. And if a few mortals happened to notice the jasmine and hyacinth rustling, they chalked it up to the sighing of the wind.

???????????????

In the plum dimness that was dusk, the sextet of weary mortals, semi-mortals and demi-mortals made their way to the headless kingdom of Zebron. The high, ornate wall of the city, carved with stylized latticework, was draped with ivy and nestled in a bower of fragrant blooms. The walls met at the terminus of the road in an exquisitely carved arch.

“What a charming gateway!” exclaimed Cupid, entranced.

Strife’s eyes lit on a figure hanging from a post beside the portal. “I’ll say. They got the dead bodies fresh an’ everything.”

“Oh, don’t pay any attention to that,” said Hercules. “That’s just Beraeus.”

Joxer clattered to the fore. “What? Wasn’t he the king?”

“And wasn’t he an old friend of yours?” queried Auto.

The Golden Hunter shrugged. He’d stopped vomiting about half an hour before and was beginning to wonder if they’d ever find a roadside café. “Well, years ago. But that was then and this is now.”

“C’mon,” said Hercules, herding them past the stiff, pale body of the former head of state. “He almost forced a woman to marry him who didn’t *love* him. And so he got what he deserved.”

“To be impaled at the city’s gates like a mass murderer?” Joxer asked, baffled.

“He’s not impaled,” Iolaus said blithely. “He’s hung. Now come on, I think the place that sells funnel cakes might still be open.”

Cupid, Auto and Joxer stared dubiously at Beraeus’ body as Hercules moved them along the road, Iolaus rushing ahead every few steps to urge them on toward the eateries. Strife hung back just a moment to look at the dangling king. “Lordy. You wuz a handsome fella, all right.” So Beraeus had committed a crime of passion, trying to force the love of someone who didn’t return the sentiment. Strife thought of the raging passions that welled up inside him, continually seeking release. And he couldn’t say that he blamed the late king.

Love was fickle and relentless, and sometimes cruel. But forcing your hand could never work in the long run. And, being immortal, Strife needed to think about the long haul. No, he couldn’t *force* Cupid to be with him. He had to woo his cousin’s affections instead.

Strife wracked his brains to remember how, exactly, he’d planned to win Cupid’s affections. Cute, fuzzy things, lots of smiles, a new wardrobe, and charming. Hadn’t Cupid just called the gate to Zebron charming? Strife studied the carved archway. He wasn’t quite sure how he could translate the charm of the gate into an aspect with which to win Cupid’s affections. And besides, Cupid had called Autolycus charming as well.

//Why is this all so confusin’???//

Strife set the assignment to become charming aside and opted instead to work on his wardrobe. He straggled along behind the five others he’d arrived with, keeping his azure eyes peeled for a suitable clothing shop. He spied a tailor along the way and ducked in, his friends none the wiser. Of course, immediately, Strife noted that the various colorful garments were marked with price tags. And Strife didn’t have any money.

If Strife wanted to improve his wardrobe, he’d need to be very, very creative indeed.

¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡

As the dark of night drew night, Zebron’s leaderless guards drew shut their peaked gates to protect their fair city through another long night. Delicate, night-blooming orchids bobbed on nodding stems, and the small feet of nocturnal rodents whispered across the night-cooled soil.

And beside the carved gates of Zebron, the corpse of King Beraeus hung.

Ares appeared before the husk of Zebron’s leader and considered it. Beraeus was a young man, wiry and tall. His skin was smooth and his bearing regal. Attractive enough, for a mortal. A bit eerie, the way he resembled Strife. But that couldn’t be helped. He was still the freshest corpse around.

Ares unfurled his fingers, and the rope suspending the King uncoiled, dropping his body to the mound of flowers below.

“Ow!”

“Ooof!”

A pair of brown-fringed godlings threw off Beraeus’ body and rose from the flowers, disorientated.

“Deimos? Phobos??” Ares cried. “What are *you* doing here?”

“It’s a free country, *Dad,*” said Deimos, poking out his tongue.

Phobos reshaped his dented hair. “Actually, it’s a totally *lawless* country, with the King Dead and no successor.” He smoothed his hands down his front, lingering at his thick, studded belt. “I feel a little weird, Deimie.”

“It’s probably just the green apples. So what’re you doing here, Dad? Other than spoiling our perfectly romantic interlude?”

Ares rolled his eyes. “*Every* minute of *every* day is a romantic interlude for the two of you.”

The twins shrugged.

“Why don’t you just get out of here,” Ares suggested. “I’ve got *work* to do and *you’re* in my way.”

“Ew!” Cried Phobos.

“The ‘W’ word!” wailed Deimos.

The pair of blonds threw their fringed arms around each other and promptly disappeared.

Ares waited a long moment, listening carefully for giggling and/or heavy breathing. All was silent, save the song of crickets. When finally Ares was satisfied that he was alone, he turned his attention to the angular corpse on the ground.

"Beraeus, King of Zebron,” Ares intoned in his most formal and godly voice. “Your work here is not complete.” Ares collected the ambient energy from the atmosphere and channeled it down his brawny arms and through his calloused fingertips. The energy arced in a purple glow, then struck Beraeus’ body square in the chest. The cadaver convulsed. “Rise and serve your new master.”

For a moment there was nothing. And then a shudder wracked the dead king’s wiry frame. Preternaturally stiff and quiet, he sat up. His head swiveled in Ares’ direction. There was something odd about the set of his neck, probably from his body having dangled from it for a day or two. “What do you want, War God?”

“You must do my bidding,” Ares insisted, somewhat freaked out by the total lack of expression on Beraeus’ eerily handsome face.

“But I needn’t like it.”

“I don’t care what you like or not!” spat Ares, stomping his foot. Beraeus stared. “So here it is. I want you to find the King of Thieves and seduce him.”

Beraeus’ corpse favored Ares with a thin smile. “But then again, perhaps I will. After all, I was never allowed to consummate my wedding.”

*****
Candace
Zebron's Gatekeeper
House of Love Cheerleader

www.candace1.com/fugue

"I'm not lying.
I'm writing fiction with my mouth."
-Homer Simpson
 

Title: Pair of Fools 14/31

Authors: Candace and ERin, writers of erroneous erotica

Part 14 Author: Erin

Fandom: HtLJ - X:WP

Pairing: Herc/Iolaus established, more Ares/Joxer hinted at and a bit of Auto/Beraeus hints too.

Summary: Iolaus stuffs his face, Herk proves himself to be about as smart as a mossy rock, Gabby reveals her not-so inner bitch, Joxer considers his romantic options, Stri--er, Bob chills out in the slammer, Auto goes treasure hunting and Beraeus goes Auto hunting.

Archive: Candace's Fugue, Erin's House-O-Fanfic, our LJ's, RCoS.

Feedback: I can't live without knowing how much you all love me.

Rating: PG but people are nasty to each other *sob*

Warnings: Excessive gluttony, defiance of the laws of physics, idiocy and hints of necrophelia

Disclaimers: I don't own Beraeus' animated corpse, but I'll take the lookalike in black leather, if he's up for grabs. *g*

~**~**~**~**
pari of fools
Part 14
**~**~**~

"Are you sure about this, Little Buddy?" Hercules wondered worriedly, watching as the Golden Hunter ate nonstop. They'd only been in the inn for about 30 minutes, and Iolaus had already eaten 3 platefuls of food, the likes of which Xena had refused to touch. Instead she'd yanked out some travel rations for the rest of them by hurtling her chakram at Gabrielle's backpack, which had burst to reveal 1 ton of forgotten dried goods. They'd met up with the Warrior Princess and the Amazon Bard when they'd gone into the first inn Iolaus had found that served food.

"'SOK, Herk," Iolaus mumbled around a mouthful of his meal. "'M good, 'n' 'm hungry."

Watching with a disgusted expression, Gabby leaned close to Xena. "Not even *Joxer* would touch this food, and I've seen him eat some real horrible stuff. If anyone was dumb enough to eat this crap, I thought it would be him, not Iolaus."

Xena nodded, although she frowned a bit at the insult to Joxer. "Be nice Gabrielle," she chided as she pulled out another dinar, the payment for Iolaus' latest round of food. The tavernkeeper was across the room so she bounced the dinar off the wall, the ceiling, and three patron's helmets before it landed perfectly in the tavernkeeper's hand. "But...you're right about Iolaus. I wonder if something's wrong with him?"

"Other than shoveling all the food in the town into his mouth?" the beautiful blond bard snorted. "Maybe we should call him the Golden Hunger."

Cupe glanced at her with a glare, not caring for her snide tone.

The Warrior Princess sighed, trying not to roll her eyes. She knew her lover didn't mean anything by it, but sometimes the Amazon bard had a sharp tongue. She wondered where Joxer was and at that moment, the Wannabe-Warrior appeared with a full tray of full mugs.

"Here, Joxer, I'll help," Xena offered, then shot out of her seat with a cry, flipping backwards over it and the heads of a couple customers. She landed beside the Wannabe-Warrior and took the tray from him.

"Thanks," the dark-haired man said with a grin. "The food isn't great, but the ale is awesome!" he enthused as he dropped down into an empty seat between the heroes and the former Love God. "Hey, Iolaus, you aren't really eating that, are you? Oh, Gabby! I got your favorite wine too!" He motioned to where Xena was flipping back towards them, using the heads of some of the patrons to walk on.

Right as she came to a perfect landing beside the table, having never spilled a drop of their drinks, Joxer's arm caught hers, tangling with it, sending him tumbling to the floor and sending the drinks flying, right at Gabby. The ale and wine combined into a sticky deluge that fell square on the Amazon bard's head, drenching her in drink.

"**###***JOXER***##*!!!!!!!!!!!!" she shrieked shrilly, jumping to her feet, fists clenched and teeth bared in furious anger. She turned her baleful gaze on the downed Wannabe-Warrior, glaring down at him heatedly. "***LOOK*** at what *you* did to me!!!!" she screeched succinctly. "I'm a **total** mess, you incompetent buffoon!!!! All you ever do is tag along after us and get us into *trouble*!! You're not a warrior, you're a screw-up!!!!! And now look what you've done!!! I'll bet there isn't a bath available anywhere in town and you've ruined my only clean pair of clothes!!!! You utter *JERK**!!!!!!" Grabbing her staff in a tight grip, Gabrielle turned on her wet heel and, flipping a dripping lock of drenched blond hair off her supple shoulder, stormed away in fuming silence.

Joxer sat on the floor, stunned at his heart's desire's viscous attack on him. He'd devoted all of his love and affection towards Gabby and he'd known she didn't return it, but he'd thought that maybe, given time, he could convince her. But now he saw how impossible it was. She didn't even like him, so how could he expect her to love him? Feeling his heart break into 10,000 tiny pieces, tears filled his wide brown eyes.

"Joxer, are you alright?" Xena was there, leaping out of her seat, doing a backwards summersaw and pulling him to his feet and looking at him with deep compassion. "Look, Gabrielle didn't mean that, she was just upset and."

"No, it's OK, Xena." The Wannabe-Warrior winced as he pulled away. He had bruises from the fall, but he'd be alright, he knew that. "She did mean it, and I should've seen that by now." He couldn't help but see the pitying and sympathetic gazes Cupid gave him, and Iolaus through mouthfuls of something resembling food.

Herk shrugged. "Maybe she was a bit...harsh, Joxer, but that doesn't mean she didn't have a point. You are kind of clumsy and you do get into a lot of trouble, and there isn't a bath in this town."

"**HERCULES**!!!" Iolaus sprayed food out of his mouth as he yelled his friend's name in indignation, punching him in the arm.

"What?!?" the demi-god gave his lover a wounded look.

"I c'n't believe you s'id dat!" Iolaus chewed harder and swallowed. "It wasn't Joxer's fault! The rest of us saw that and you should've to!"

"He's right, Unk Herk!" Cupid exclaimed heatedly. "That Gabrielle is was a total bitch to Joxer!"

Xena didn't want to admit her lover's short comings, but she was forced to agree with the former Love God's assessment and she nodded, using a series of complex pressure points to releave the ache in one of her muscles as she did so.

Joxer smiled at his friends, grateful for their support. But then Hercules spoke again.

"Hey! Just because Gabrielle had the courage to speak the truth doesn't mean you can call her a bitch!!"

The Wannabe-Warrior flinched back at that, but the Warrior Princess was there, putting a supportive hand on his shoulder even as she kept an ever-present eye out for possible danger around them. "No, Hercules, I won't support what she said. It was thoughtless and cruel and Joxer deserves better than that."

His face set into a stubborn expression, the son of Zeus crossed his arms over his muscular chest and glared in defiance at the others.

"Fine," the Golden Hunter said, "then I guess you're sleeping alone tonight."

"**WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?**" Herk gasped in horror, his expression literally falling. "But--but---*Iolaus*!!! You *can't* mean that!!!!!"

"Yea, Herk, I do. If you won't see what's right in front of your face, then you don't get it either." And he went back to eating.

Hercules looked on the verge of tears, his mud brown eyes glistening suspiciously, but he didn't offer an apology either, the stubborn expression returning.

"It's OK, Joxer," the Warrior Princess said with a perky smile even as she threw her chakram behind her, denting the helmet of a man who'd been about to start a fight. "We know you didn't deserve any of that." She caught her chakram and hugged him.

Joxer beamed back at her, smiling a goofy yet strangely attractive smile. "Thanks, guys. But, it's OK, you know? Gabrielle is just being herself and, well." The words trailed off because he couldn't voice what he really wanted to say. He'd known, deep down in his heart that the buxomless blond bard would probably never return his affections. He'd even admitted to himself earlier in the day that there was another who might be more...receptive, maybe even worthy of his love. But he couldn't say that aloud, certainly not when the son of Zeus or the Warrior Princess was around; they wouldn't understand. But maybe Cupid would! Who better to ask about the misunderstood God of War than his son?!! It was perfect, considering that this was the former God of Love sitting there. Joxer couldn't wait to get the ex-winged, ex-Love God alone and talk to him!!!!!

But suddenly the inn doors burst in and a guard ran into the inn. "Come quick!" he ordered the other guards seated around the bar drinking. "Someone stole King Beraeus' body!"

As the bevy of big, bombed, muscular guards stumbled drunkenly out of the tavern, the friends all shares a suspicious look.

"Where's Autolycus?" Xena voiced what was worrying all of their minds, scanning the crowd suspiciously.

Then Cupid spoke up, voicing something that made them all wince at the possibilities. "Um...anyone seen Strife--uh--Bob lately?"

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" the god formerly known as Strife screamed in startlement as hands grabbed him in the darkness. He's been stoically silent when the guards had tossed him into the dark dungeon -- stealing clothing was harder than he thought -- but being manhandled by invisible hands was more than he could take.

"Would you shut up!" a familiar voice hissed in his ear.

"Autolycus?" the ex-Mischief God whispered under his breath.

"No, it's Zeus in a tutu -- of *course* it's me!" the King of Thieves whispered back.

"What're ya doin' here, Auto?" the ex-god gasped, clutching at the thief’s wrists. "Did tha guards snag ya to?"

"Hey! *No*one bags the King of Thieves," Auto announced pridefully, yanking his hands away. But the god formerly known as Strife didn't let go, grabbing a sleeve and hanging on tight.

"Den what're ya *here* fer?" the sable-haired -- although it was too dark to notice -- almost mortal man hissed.

"Rescuing *you*, Strife," came the perfectly plain reply.

"*Bob*," the former god insisted.

"Fine, *Bob*, whatever. Now let's get out of here."

"Why d'ya wanna save *me*?" the ex-Mischief God muttered suspiciously. "An' how're we gettin' outta here anyways? It's so dark dat I can't see nothin'."

"I know the way, and I'm saving you because you'll get your powers back eventually and you'll owe me a favor. It's always good to have a god or two in your corner in my line of work. Besides, the crown jewels were a little...underprotected and the previous owner won't miss them. This was on my way out. Now c'mon." He grabbed hold of the ex-god's hand and hauled him forward.

The former Mischief God stumbled along behind the thief, allowing himself to be led as he thought about Autolycus' mercenary attitude. Personally he approved of it, but since he was trying to change himself to make his cousin happy, to make himself worthy of Cupid, he decided to disapprove of it.

"Here, stop and climb up," the thief ordered.

The god formerly known as Strife obeyed, finding handholds in old stone and pulling himself up. "Hey, Auto, I'll start payin' ya back now, OK?" he hissed, breathing heavily as he hauled himself higher until he heaved himself through an open window. "How d'ya feel 'bout Joxer?"

"What?" Autolycus whispered as he landed beside the ex-god. It was lighter outside although it was still night so they could see each other alright.

"Joxer, ya know, dat guy we've been hangin' wit, messed up metal armor, big nose, clueless look; know who I'm rappin' 'bout here?"

"Yea, I know Joxer; what about him, and we gotta get outta here before the guards come by. C'mon." He grabbed the ex-god's arm and tugged him to his feet, then pulled him away from the castle.

"Cupe 'n I were thinkin', ya know, 'bout maybe gettin' tha two a you tagether, know what I mean?"

Auto' stumbled and almost went down on his face. He recovered with a semblance of grace though and continued pulling the former Mischief God along with him. "What're you *talking* about?" he hissed.

"*Romance*!" the ex-god hissed back. "Ya gotta be a lonely dude, Auto, out on yer own all tha time. Hows 'bout hookin' up wit Joxer, huh? Ya two're kinda cute tagether."

"Are you *insane*?!?!!?!" the thief whispered heatedly, jerking the pale man's arm hard. "I wouldn't have a relationship with Joxer if he was the last *thing* on Earth, *got* *it*?!?! Not that he's a bad guy, but he's most *definitely* ***NOT*** my type!"

The god formerly known as Strife stopped cold, yanking away from the other man. "O, 'n I guess someone like, I dunno, ***CUPID***, is yer *type*, huh?" he snapped snidely.

"Wha?? *Cupid**?" the thief hissed, coming to just as abrupt a halt. “Hate to break it to ya, Str--uh, Bob, but if I *was* gonna sleep with a guy, gods aren't my thing, not even ex-gods. I'll take Iolaus, thanks. Except Herk would probably yank my spleen out my nose if I tried." He looked a little frustrated at that. "Besides, I usually like my lovers a little different, a little softer, prettier, more breasts, get my point?"

The pale man frowned confusedly. "Ummm....ya wanna fat guy with tits? Heeey, yer doin' Salmoneus, ain'tchya?" He grinned lasciviously.

Autolycus gave a dramatic shudder, disgust crawling over his expression. "*Women*!!! OK? I usually date *women*!!"

"Well, shit," he sighed in disappointment. "I dunno know any women ta setchya up wit."

"NO setting up!!" the thief insisted intently. "Just owe me the favor, OK?"

"Yea, guess I'll haf'ta," the god formerly known as Strife admitted resignedly. "'M all outta options fer romance fer ya, Auto."

"That's alright," a strange voice suddenly said sighingly out of the night. "I'm here to take care of all that." A faltering figure shuffled forward. Head at an odd angle, the very dead and yet very much there, King Beraeus smiled gruesomely at the two of them.

"Hey, fer a dead guy, yer on tha good lookin' side," the ex-Mischief God quipped with a quick grin.

"!!!!!!" Autolycus said, a high-pitched squeak.

"Autolycus, fancy meeting you here," the dead King drawled dramatically.

*&*&*&*&*&
Erin
-----
Oiler of Beraeus' dungeon manacles

Erin's House-O-Fanfic
http://www.slashaholics.org/erin/warning.html

House-O-Fanfic mailing list
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/House_O_Fanfic/

IWJTCSN mailing list
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/IWJTCSN/

Ravings of an Unbalanced Mind
http://erinslashslut.livejournal.com/

My AdultFanFiction.Net page
http://adultfan.nexcess.net/aff/authors.php?no=9038

My FanFiction.Net page
http://www.fanfiction.net/~erinstrifelvr

My page on AJCS (come laugh at the typos in my fic)
http://www.aresjoxercupidstrife.com/erinl.html
 

Title: Pair of Fools 15/31

Authors: Erin and Candace, daydreamers extraordinaire

Part 15 Author: Candace

Fandom: HtLJ - X:WP

Pairing: Deimos/Phobos, smatterings of a Poseidon fantasy

Summary: Deimos and Phobos rejoice in some unexpected good fortune while Strife/Bob finds something cool to wear.

Archive: Candace's Fugue, Erin's House-O-Fanfic, our LJ's, RCoS.

Feedback: I do believe I can hear crickets chirping.

Rating: R for swears

Warnings: Mpreg, twincest, predictable plot twist and foreboding of necrophilia

Disclaimers: Anyone trying to sue me is welcome to play "find that smell" in my fridge.
 
 

^^^8^^^8^^^8^^^
PAIR OF FOOLS
Part 15
^^^8^^^8^^^8^^^
 

Phobos curled against his identical twin brother in the hayloft over the stables beside the inn where the motley group of heroes and other assorted travelers had gathered. They had a bet as to whether or not their elder brother Cupid talked in his sleep. Deimos had thought, definitely not. Whereas Phobos was pretty sure some interesting gossip might be forthcoming.

And so they appeared in the inn in their invisible incarnations, but the mortals were only interested in fighting with each other and ingesting large quantities of food. Well, one of them, anyway. Quickly bored, the realized they hadn’t done it in a hayloft in quite some time and decided leave the mortals to their own designs for the time being.

“That was some great fantasy you dreamed up,” Deimos sighed contentedly. “Fucking me like you were Poseidon with that clammy, wet skin.”

Phobos, now in his own form, kissed Deimos’ shoulder.

“That seaweed dangling off you. Little lobsters pinched onto my nipples....”

Phobos shrugged modestly. “But I dunno if he’s *really* like that. I mean, I’ve never been with anyone but you.”

“Well, duh!” Deimos rolled to face the other half of his soul and pulled Phobos against him tighter. “That goes without saying.” He gnawed on Phobos’ ear for a while while Phobos walked his fingers through the platinum blond hair on Deimos’ thighs. “I don’t think I’d *really* like to do all those things that we pretend. It only turns me on because I know it’s *you* inside all those fantasies.”

Phobos knuckled a contented tear from the corner of his eye. “You say the *sweetest* things, Deimie,” he sighed dreamily.

“Yeah, I do. Don’t I?” Deimos sighed too, and lay his head back upon the hay. Soon he began to emit soft, regular snores, punctuated by the occasional snuffle. Phobos snuggled into the warmth of his twin, casting his mind about lazily for yet another fantasy with which to titillate Deimos. That Joxer guy in the inn was pretty far-out. He’d do for a tussle or two.

Phobos rolled onto his side, pressing his back into Deimos’ flank. Could he fuck in all that metal--what was it? An art installation? Something like that. It’d be loud...nice and loud. Deimos would get off on that.

Phobos squirmed onto his back. He’d need to go listen to the man speak a little later to make sure he had the voice and tone just right. See if there were any particular words Joxer favored. So far, “Hey,” seemed to be the typical way he started a sentence. Phobos mouthed the word to himself, wriggling to try to get comfortable.

“What’s the deal?” Deimos cried sleepily. “Half of us are *trying* to sleep around here. You got ants in your pants? Oh, but you ain’t wearing none.”

Phobos sat up, stretching. “I dunno. I just can’t seem to get comfortable.”

Deimos regarded his twin shrewdly. “Oh? How do you mean?”

“Well, now my back kinda hurts.” He cupped a hand over his belly. “And I feel a little achy down here. A little queasy.”

Deimos gathered Phobos into his arms and kissed his twin eagerly. “What was that for?” Phobos asked when Deimos let him up for air.

“Oh, Phobie! You’ve made me the *happiest* godling in the *world*!!!!”

“Huh? Why???”

Unshed tears of joy glittered in Deimos’ china blue eyes. “Because you’re making my secretest, most cherished fantasy of all come true!!!”

“Joxer?”

“No, silly!” Deimos cuffed Phobos on the back of the head. “We’re gonna be daddies!!!”

“We are??!???!?? How?!!?!!?!!”

Deimos intertwined his fingers with his brother’s over Phobos’ belly. “You’re gonna have a baby!!!!!!”

*****

The god formerly know as Strife stared at the figure that shuffled out of the night mist making a beeline for Autolycus. And then he heard a thump to his right.

“Auto?” the ex-god said, looking down at his feet where the thief was passed out cold. “Whaddayou doin’?”

The Dead King crept forward and stared down at Autolycus. “I must have him,” he said cryptically.

“That’s not gonna work,” the ex-god averred. “He just *told* me he’s only into *girls.*” And Iolaus, Strife/Bob added mentally. While there was no way to know for certain with Autolycus unconscious, the former god had a feeling that the thief did not return Beraeus’ feelings. Though why that would be, the once-godling didn’t know. The Dead King was much more handsome than Iolaus.

Beraeus gazed down at Auto with his dead eyes. “I don’t care what he wants. I will have him.”

Ex-Strife shrugged. Well, he’d tried. And now on to more important matters: his wardrobe!

The Dead King obviously knew where to shop. He was resplendent in cloth-of-gold and violet, and tons of jewelry. But even if the pale semi-mortal knew where Beraeus shopped, it wasn’t as if he could just go in there and *take* some clothes. That had already proved to be an ineffective strategy, to say the least.

And then a cunning plan occurred to Str--Bob. “Say, you look like you’re about the same size as me.”

Beraeus stared.

Strife wet his lips and tapped his fingertips together, eyes darting from side to side. “And so, uh... I’ll do ya a favah.”

A fly buzzed loudly around Beraeus’ head.

“I’ll letcha barra my clothes. ‘Cos Auto, see. He **loves** black leathah.”

Beraeus stared somewhere nonspecific. The pale former god wondered if he’d even heard the offer. But finally, Beraeus spoke. “Very well.”

The god formerly known as Strife shucked his clothes, sneaking sidelong glances at Beraeus all the while. It was hard to decide which to stare at--the blood-encrusted hole in his belly, or the big, purple boner he sported from hanging at the gate for so long. His legs were kind of purple, too, especially below the knee. But the rest of him was porcelain-pale. All the important parts that would show outside the black leather catsuit, anyway.

“Bob” slid into Beraeus’ rich robes easily. “Heyah,” he said, tugging at his rapidly-cooling black leathers. “Lemme helpya with that.”

With little help from the Dead King, and lots of stretching and tugging, the ex-godling got their outfits switched. “Awright! Now ya look shahp!” But just as he beheld his handiwork, the semi-mortal heard a large commotion just around the corner.

A series of drunken guards spewed forth out of an alleyway, staggering and skidding to a halt. Strife was sure he’d end up back in prison for the rest of his days, and he cringed away from the guards. Some of them stared, eyes big as dinner plates. But most of them dropped to a low, low bow. “His majesty lives!” a mounted soldier cried hoarsely.

“Long live the king,” the guardsmen began to chant. “Long live the king!!!”

Strife/Bob couldn’t bring himself to tell them that Beraeus was obviously still dead, so he began instead to sidle toward a conveniently placed alleyway, leaving Auto crumpled on the ground. Sadly, even with the spectacle of an undead king, the guardsmen still surrounded and seized him. They kept on chanting “Long live the king!!!” even as they hauled the godling away on their shoulders.

The street was now deserted, save a figure in black leather, and a supine form on the cobblestones. The Dead King smiled to himself and leaned down to touch Autolycus.

“Strife!” cried someone, emerging from yet another alleyway. Cupid darted forward, shirtless, in his black leather kilt, hazel eyes flashing. “Thank the Fates I’ve found you! I’ve been so ***worried***!!!”

Beraeus curled his lip as Cupid crushed him to his chest.

*****
Candace
Strife's Stylist
President, Annoying Blond Twin Advancement Association

www.candace1.com/fugue
 
 

Title: Pair of Fools 16/31 (half way throught!)

Authors: Candace & Erin, bards of bad taste

Part 16 author: Erin

Fandom: HtLJ - X:WP

Pairing: Deimos/Phobos established, Herc/Iolaus established, Xena/Gabby always established, Joxer/Ares hinted at, Auto/Iolaus!!1! happening!!!

Sumarry: Cupid loses his love (but he only thinks that cuz we no better!!!), Auto gets a piece, Hercules world crumbles, Xena gets propositioned and uses her sword alot, the twins have an announcement (adn its sooooo cuttee!!!!1!!!), Gabrielle is a bitch, Xena loses her love to, Joxer's whorld spins out of control, and Ares gets sader.

Archive: Candace's Fugue, Erin's House-O-Fanfic, our LJs, RCoS

Feedback: Why arne't you all paying attention too meeeeee?!?!?!!11??

Rating: NC-17 for the HOtttt guy sex!!

Warnings: There be knocking of the boots ahead and harsh language! And you'll need more tissues cuz so many harts get broken in this part!!!!!!111!!!!one!!!

Disclaimers: If I owned these guys, I guess I wouldn't be spending a small fortune on batteries.

AN: ^^=whispering, ))=Gabrielle's thoughts
 

><?><?><?><?><?
pAiR oF fOoLs
Part 16
?><?><?><?><

Cupid crushed his cousin to his chest, delirious with delight at having discovered him. Then he realized he'd made a little error and his dark haired cousin didn't appreciate it judging by the curl of his delectable lip.

"O!! I'm like, so totally sorry! I meant *Bob*, not Strife. 'Cuz you know I totally respect your decision to call yourself *whatever* you want, right?" the ex-Love God grinned winningly as he held the other man out at arm's length.

Bob/Strife just continued to glare although his head was tilted at kind of an odd angle. Then Cupid understood.

"O! I get it! Yea, this mortal thing is a total drag, isn't it? I keep overbalancing 'cuz my wings ain't there and my back is like, *killing* me. You gotta crick in your neck, right? Here, lemme fix it." The blond, buff man caught his cousin's cocked head between his hands and gave it a firm yank in the proper direction. There was a loud crack and Bob/Strife's eyes widened, and now his head sat normally.

"There ya go." Cupid gave him a firm pat on the shoulder.

"Thanks," the word sounded gravely and angry, not like Strife/Bob normally sounded and that made the ex-Love God frown.

"You OK, Bob?" he asked with great worry.

"Fine," the pale man ground out. "Now out of my way so I can have some alone time with my new Love."

At that moment the now-wingless ex-god noticed the unconscious mortal at their feet for the first time. Autolycus was just now starting to stir and sit up, groaning and rubbing his head.

"Anyone get the name of that chariot?" he grumbled woozily. Then the thief suddenly remembered what had happened here and his head snapped up. He beheld the two men standing over him with wide brown eyes. ^^Cupid?^^ he whispered hesitantly, because the big, buff ex-god wasn't looking very happy to see him.

"**Autolycus**!!" the Love God growled, furious that a mere mortal could attract his one true love's attention.

"Uh...ya know, I think you got the wrong guy. Autolycus? Nah, I'm...Marty! Yea, Marty. Autolycus went that way." The thief pointed back towards the castle with his most innocently winning smile.

The large blond ex-god clenched his fists and took a step towards the fallen mortal, only to be intercepted by Bob/Strife.

"Leave Autolycus alone," the pale man ordered. "He's mine and I don't care to share."

Cupid was furious, but he wouldn't dream of striking Bob/Strife. His cousin was his whole world and if this was what the Mischief God wanted, then he'd get it, but he couldn't keep the wounded look off his handsome, tanned face.

Auto wasn't fooled for a second though. The man before him may have *looked* like Strife, but the way he spoke and the jerky way he moved spelled out King Beraeus to the thief, and he was *out* of there.

"If it's what you want, Bob," Cupid murmured, swallowing back his anger, deciding to lay things on the line. "But...ya know, I was thinking that maybe you n'me, might...get together? I mean, I've seen how you look at me and I thought that you might."

"What could I possibly want with an overly muscled airhead like you?" the black-clad young man said snidely, sneering at Cupid. "Now, come here, Autoly. Hey, where'd he go? You chased him off!" He shoved the wingless ex-god aside and went after the mortal who'd long since fled.

Cupid went with the motion of the shove, letting himself collapse to the ground as sobs shook his buff frame. He'd offered his cousin his heart and had it thrown back in his face. He must've misread all those long, lingering looks Bob/Strife had gazed longingly at him. Maybe that'd been disgust instead of desire. Whatever it was, his pale cousin didn't want him and Cupid's world was shattered. He sat there, collapsed on the ground, sobbing brokenly, tears trailing in torrents down his tawny cheeks.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Auto ran like the hounds of Hades were on his heels. He didn't know what sick joke the gods were playing this time but he wanted *no* part of it. What had he done to offend them lately? Was it those two twisted twins he'd met up with just outside of Zebron? Were they pissed off because he'd turned them down? Or was it yet another god he'd somehow innocently offended? Not that it mattered. His only concern at the moment was finding a way of getting out of whatever the Dead King had planned for him.

Convinced that Hercules would help him, he headed towards the inn he'd heard the heroes were going to meet up at, but when he reached it, a quick check around the place turned up no signs of them. That gave Auto a chance to think this over. He currently had the crown jewels of Zebron well hidden on him, so maybe looking up the demi-god wasn't the best idea. He was so boringly moralistic that he'd probably insist on making the thief hand the jewels back over to the Dead King, despite the whole dead part.

Then the King of Thieves had an epiphany. What if it was the jewels causing him all the trouble? What if they were cursed and King Beraeus' corpse came after whoever had them? If that was true, then the solution was simple! He'd simply ditch the jewels and find some hot little number to hook up with for the night, just to convince the Dead King that his attentions *really* weren't wanted.

That decided, Autolycus turned to leave the inn, and ran straight into Gabrielle.

"Autolycus!!" the blond bard announced, baffled. "When did you get here? Everyone's out looking for you, you know. You're causing *alot* of trouble!" She put her hands on her hips and glared.

"Yea, I'm known for that," the thief replied distractedly, glancing around to make sure neither the Warrior Princess or the Son of Zeus was in the immediate vicinity. "It's good for my reputation."

The Amazon Princess Bard rolled her blue eyes disapprovingly. "Come on," she swung her pack onto one shoulder and her staff over the other. "I'll take you to Xena."

"Nah, that's alright, thanks." Auto slapped her on the back, slipping the jewels into her backpack at the same time. "I think I'll just find somewhere else to stay tonight. And someone to stay in," he muttered under his breath, ducking into the crowd and leaving a protesting blond bard behind.

If the jewels were cursed, he had no doubt that the Warrior Princess would protect the little Blond Chatterbox, and if they weren't, the King of Thieves could go back for them at any time. Right now though he needed to find a place to bed down for the night, and someone to bed along with it.

Near the back of the inn, in a dark corner at a lonely table, he was surprised to find the Golden Hunter seated all by himself, blue eyes wet with tears.

"Hey, Shorty," Autolycus greeted him, sliding into the chair next to him. "What's wrong?" He was fairly certain that the demi-god was wandering around somewhere close, because where one went the other was sure to follow. But the King of Thieves had always been unaccountably attracted to Iolaus and seeing him down, depressed, and distressed just tugged at something inside of him. He couldn't just walk away.

"Autolycus," the curly blond man returned the greeting with a watery sniff. "Where've *you* been? Out stealing anything not nailed down?"

Not taking offense, mostly because it was true, the thief spread his arms wide. "Search me if you wanna, Blondie; I'm clean."

Iolaus looked at him then, a long, level look that started to make him uncomfortable after a while. But then the Golden Hunter suddenly grabbed hold of his vest.

"OK, Autolycus; how 'bout a strip search?" he leered, then yanked the thief forward into a hard kiss.

Not that the thief had anything against kissing Iolaus, but he also didn't want an angry demi-god twisting off his head to use as a football, so Auto pushed the blond man away.

"Hold up there, Curly!!" he gasped out. "I'm flattered, really, but you're the Big Guy's and I'm not into the idea of being mutilated for trespassing!!!"

Iolaus growled under his breath, the words making him angry and giving himself something else to focus on besides that horrible argument with the Son of Zeus in front of all their friends. "I don't *belong* to anyone, and especially not *Hercules*!!" He announced with a growl. "I own *myself* and I'll do what I want, go it?!?!"

"Uh...sure, Sweetcheeks, whatever you say," the King of Thieves placated, holding up his hands defensively.

The blond hunter grabbed his wrists and yanked him forward into another kiss and this time Auto didn't fight. Iolaus had a point, he was his own man and if this was his choice, then the thief wasn't going to argue with him.

It turned out that Iolaus had secured a room of his own, separate from Hercules which thrilled the King of Thieves, especially when the Golden Hunter took him up to visit it. It wasn't the cleanest or biggest place he'd ever stayed, but the bed held them both up and that was all that mattered.

Iolaus was nice and loud, groaning and moaning as Autolycus stripped them both, digits digging into deltoids, tongue and lips licking lats. Their lips meshed hard as their hips rocked against each other's. The hunter's nails dug into Auto's Latissimus Dorsi(1), leaving red, raised marks, making the thief thrust harder. They were both groaning and grunting now, a fine sheen of sweat breaking out across their bare skin, making them slide against each other more slickly. Autolycus bit into the hunter's Platysma Muscle(2), then licked his way down to lathe a taunt nipple, and that was all it took for Iolaus. He screamed, the sound echoing starkly off the pare wooden walls as he bucked up hard, cumming against the thief, spurting hot seamen between them.

Auto wasn't satisfied with that though. He'd waited years to finally have the Golden Hunter to himself, and now he was going to have him. Flipping a limp Iolaus over, he grabbed the vial of oil from the bedside table and coated his fingers. He carefully inserted his index finger into Iolaus' anus, finding him deliciously tight. Another finger and he twisted his three fingers, carefully stretching the tight sphincter muscle, scissoring his fingers to stretch it carefully. Three fingers then and the blond man moaned and wiggled back against his fingers.

"You ready, baby?" Autolycus queried, pushing his fingers in deep.

"Yeah, give it to me, Sweet Daddy," Iolaus grunted.

"Gimme some sugar, baby," the dark-haired thief breathed as he pulled out his digits and replaced them with his penis.

Iolaus was so hot and tight and the King of Thieves pushed deep into his rectum. The hunter was hot and horny under him shoving his hips hard back against the thief. Autolycus dug his fingers into Iolaus' hip and fleshy buttock, thrusting his thick, throbbing penis deep into him. Deep groans and the slick slapping of sweaty flesh filled the air with a flurry of furious sounds. Then Auto hit his prostate and Iolaus bucked hard against him and came, squeezing hard around the thief's penis.

"You're so hot, baby," Autolycus groaned, thrusting deep and hard.

"Do me harder," the hunter gasped, kneeling up and clenching his sphincter muscles around the thief's hard penis.

"Yeah, baby," the King of Thieves pounded him harder, shoving in as hard as he could.

The Golden Hunter gasped and orgasmed again.

Auto gasped and thrust deep, orgasming deep inside the hunter's bowels. He pulled out with a sigh of satisfaction, savoring the last shudders of orgasm moving through him.

"That was great," he breathed, dropping down onto the bed next to Iolaus.

"Oh yeah," the hunter groaned, turning over. "How are you at blow jobs? I'm hard again."

Suddenly the door to the room was flung open and Hercules stood there, taking in the scene with wide-eyed disbelief. "*Iolaus*!!!" he gasped in wounded horror. "How *could* you?!?!"

The hunter sat up, disregarding his nudity. "I can do what I want, Herk! You don't own me! C'mon, Autolycus, do me again!" He threw himself on top of the frozen thief.

Auto was shocked by the demi-god's sudden appearance and while an audience wasn't normally his thing, Iolaus rubbing against him had him hard instantly. "Sorry, Big Guy," he gasped out in Herk's direction as he snaked a hand down to fondle the hunter's penis and testicles, "but you know how it is."

Hercules stood there in shocked silence, mouth hanging open as he stared at the writhing bodies on the bed. It wasn't possible, his beautiful Golden Hunter betraying him like this!!! This couldn't be happening!

"This is the gods' doing!!" the demi-god hissed in sudden comprehension. "It's *#ARES'#* doing!!!! He'll do anything to get at me and this is *just* like something he'd do!!!" Closing his mouth, he squared his shoulders in determination. "Don't worry, little buddy! I *know* what's going on here and I'll put a stop to it!!!"

"Blow me, Herk," Iolaus grunted as he came in Auto's hand, flipping the demi-god off. "Better yet, you blow me, Auto, I'm getting hard again."

"Sure thing, baby," the thief agreed, sliding down the hunter's body towards Iolaus' stiff penis.

It hurt so much, seeing his little hunter in another's bed, but Herk *knew* it had to be all Ares' doing, and he was going to fix it! He ran from the room, determined, despite the late hour, to break into Ares' temple and make his brother fix this!!!

~#~#~#~#~#~#~

Xena cursed under her breath as she tried unsuccessfully to fix Argo's saddle, stabbing the leather with a needle with all the sharp skills of a shrewd swordswoman. If she hadn't known Strife was mortal, she would've suspected him of screwing things up. The saddle had torn, their rations were looking moldy and Argo had fleas. Which meant Xena had bites in places she couldn't itch in public. Thank the gods she wasn't in public. Sitting alone in the barn, trying to mend a saddle, she had to stop every few seconds to scratch her thighs and ass. She figured all she needed was an ale and a wrestling match and she'd fit right in as one of the guys.

Her mood wasn't improved by the fact that Gabrielle still hadn't turned up with news of Autolycus. The Warrior Princess didn't like it when the King of Thieves disappeared in the middle of a town. It made her suspicious. But the Amazon Bard was a problem in and of herself lately. Xena had done her best to ignore Gabby's attitude over the years, but the way she treated Joxer was just wrong. The blond bard was selfish and self-centered, Xena knew that, but she'd been in love with her since the moment she'd laid eyes on her. She knew her lover had to love her too, she'd said so often enough. They were wonderful together and the Amazon Princess made her feel wonderful. She was certain that, given enough time and lectures, the other woman would change.

"She's just not used to thinking about others," Xena said to herself. "Gabrielle will learn, she'll stop being so selfish soon."

"Yea, *sure* she will!" A giggle sounded from somewhere up above.

"Shh!!" A hiss accompanied it.

Rolling her eyes, certain that the Fates were teaming up against her, determined not to give her a break, Xena kicked out with her left foot, connecting with one of the beams holding up the hayloft. It snapped with a loud *crunch* and hay tumbled down around her, accompanied by two identical brown leather-clad bodies with spiked blond hair.

"Ahhhhh!!" They even screamed identically as the fell. One fell at the Warrior Princess' feet, the other dropped directly down onto her lap.

"Hello, Deimos," she said smoothly, smiling down at the sprawled godling on her leather covered lap.

"Phobos!" the blond god yelped, pushing off of Xena's lap and landing sprawled on the floor next to his unmoving brother. "Speak to me, baby!"

"Hiya, Deimos." The second blond godling opened his blue eyes and smiled up at his brother. "I love waking up to the sight of ya."

"Are ya OK, honey?" Deimos cooed at his blond brother. "You're not feeling sick or anything, are ya?"

"Why would he be sick?" the Warrior Princess asked curiously.

"Should we tell her?" Deimos wondered, stroking his brother's spiky blond hair.

"It's not like she's a total mortal, is she?" Phobos tugged his blond brother's hand down to his lips so he could kiss it. "Our dad's her dad, right?"

"Heeey, that's right." Deimos flashed an interested look up at Xena. "You're our sister!!"

"No, really?" the Warrior Princess' tone was thick with sarcasm.

"Yeah, it's true!" Phobos sat up suddenly, grabbing hold of her leg. "Can you keep a secret, like, since, you're not a real mortal?"

Rolling her eyes, she nodded, then yanked out her chakram and sent it bouncing off support beams, saddles and one horse's rump on its way to kill a wasp.

"Cool." Deimos grabbed her other leg, resting his chin on her knee. "We're gonna be daddies."

"Daddies?" Xena wasn't sure she'd heard that right.

"Yep." Phobos hopped up onto her lap, wrapping an arm around her neck. "Ain'tchya happy for us, Sis?"

"Um...who's the mother?" The Warrior Princess quickly used a pressure point to knumb the arm the blond god was leaning against.

The first blond godling rested his head on her shoulder, grinning. "Me."

"You?" The dark haired woman's eyebrows raised.

"Uh-huh." Deimos climbed up to sit on the hay bail next to her, throwing his arms around her shoulders. "I'm the daddy."

"You two...reproduced?" Xena's voice was a little faint, she thought about using more pressure points, but decided she'd rather feel her body in case she had to run.

"Cool, ain't it?"

^^Fates help us,^^ she whispered.

"**##XENA##**!!!!!!!!" Gabrielle's shriek rang throughout the barn, raising the hair on the back of the twins' necks. The beautiful blond bard was standing barely a few feet away, staring in shock and horror.

"Gabrielle!" Xena smiled. "Good to see you."

"But...Xena! How...how *could* you?!?" Gabby gasped, gaping at the sight before her. Her beautiful Warrior Princess, in the arms of the Twins of Terror, wrapped around them like a snake. A snake who'd betrayed her!! "With *them*?!!!!" she whigned. "They're so ugly and disgusting!!!"

"What're you talking about?" The dark-haired warrior woman winced as she realized what this might look like. "Look, Gabrielle, this isn't what it looks like."

"*Ugly*?!?!" Deimos gasped in horror.

"***Disgusting***???" Phobos was on the verge of tears.

Xena instinctively put her arms around the twins, squeezing them comfortingly. "You're not, OK? Now, Gabrielle, listen."

"**##NOOOO##**!!!!!!!!!!!" the Amazon bard yelled, slamming her hands over her ears. "I **SEE** what you're doing, Xena!!! I *knew* you weren't good enough for me, but now I have *proof*!!!" She spun around and ran from the barn, tears of fury flowing down her flushed cheeks.

Xena would've gone after here, devastated at the misunderstanding, but the arms around her tightened, keeping her from going anywhere.

"F'get about that babbling blond bitch," Deimos said seriously, sliding closer to her. "She's a serious downer."

"She doesn't deserve to date a god, even a half-god." Phobos nuzzled her neck.

"Hey, hold up for a second. I thought you two only dated your own spe--um, only each other," Xena said glancing at them askance, fingers twitching to reach her weapons.

"But you're *family*," the first blond god said with a grin.

"And we've never been with anyone else before. Not even a woman." The second blond god said sultrily, sliding his other arm around her neck, over his brother's.

"And it won't be me." Xena vaulted out from under their arms, flipping multiple times through the air before coming to rest lightly on her feet. "I have to go after Gabrielle. Um...congratulations on your spaw--um, kid." She strode mightily out of the barn.

"She left us." Phobos sniffed.

"Yeah, but it's for the best. We don't need anyone else. It was just a moment of weakness," Deimos insisted, grabbing his brother and yanking him onto his lap. "We're good by ourselves." He licked his brother's cheek.

"Oooh, do that again." Phobos turned his head to kiss him. "You're all I want, bro."

_+_+_+_+_+_+_

Joxer was lonely. Hurt and alone. And filled with trepidation. Gabrielle's words still hurt but not as much now that he'd admitted to himself that there might be another he could love. But he'd wanted to talk to Cupid about that, see if he really stood a chance with Ares, and now the ex-Love God was no where to be found. Everyone was gone. Joxer hadn't been able to find any sign of his friends or the ex-gods; it was like everyone had vanished.

He'd looked through the bottom floor of the inn and found no one, although someone had said that Hercules had been seen leaving earlier, so Joxer decided to follow him. If he found the demi-god, maybe he'd find everyone else. First he'd check the barn though, because it was always possible that Xena was out there with Argo and would be able to tell him where everyone else was.

Before he reached the barn though, he ran straight into Gabby. The blond bard was crying, he noticed immediately.

"Gabby!! What's wrong?" he asked, forgetting her harsh words for the moment because he didn't like seeing any of his friends hurt.

"Joxer!!" For a moment she glared at him, but then she started giving him a different look, an interested one. "Xena betrayed me," she spat the words. "How can any *god* replace me?!?"

"Xena--WHAT?" Joxer couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Why would Xena abandon the Amazon Bard for a *god*? What god could have that kind of a draw for her to begin with--unless...Ares. It had to be. The War God had found a way to draw Xena back to him. She was his again, and right now the god Joxer had been falling in love with was in the barn making love to *Xena*!! For the second time in one night Joxer felt like his heart was being ripped in two.

Suddenly he shouted in surprise when Gabby's hand slid inside his shirt. "I was wrong, about what I said before," she said, slinking closer. "You're a real warrior, Joxer, and I want you to be my warrior now." Xena had betrayed her so she'd do the same, see how *she* felt being replaced by someone so inferior.

"Gabby!!" Joxer gasped in shock as her other hand cupped him through his pants.

"OH!! Joxer!" She grinned lecherously. "If I'd known you were *this* hung, I would've done something sooner!"

Joxer was just about to push her away when Xena suddenly came flipping and rolling of the barn before coming to stand in front of them. He knew what it looked like, Gabrielle wrapped around him, touching him, him with his hands on her, but to push her away, not to embrace her. The Warrior Princess couldn't know that though and the horrified look on her face said that clearly.

"Gabrielle?" Xena gasped.

Still groping Joxer, the blond bard turned her head to look at her former lover, smiling sweetly. "See Xena? I can find a new lover too. And Joxer is soooo Mighty." She squeezed his cock and he couldn't help but harden under the contact, but at the same time his skin crawled. *This* wasn't what he'd wanted.

The Warrior Princess looked heartbroken and without another word she turned and flipped away into the night, tears streaming down her face.

"Now we're all alone," Gabby purred, just before kissing Joxer hard.

Joxer froze for a moment, utterly shocked, then he regained his senses and shoved her away. "NO! I won't do this! I don't love you Gabby! Not anymore. There's someone else for me now and you're not it!!" Joxer turned and walked off into the night, determinedly not looking back.

The Amazon Princess stared after him, teeth bared and hands curling into fists as rage went through her. ))How *dare* he reject her! Joxer was worthless; a total loser!! *She* was the best he could ever do!!(( she thought heatedly. She'd make him pay for this!!!

&%&%&%&%&

Alone in his temple in Zebron, Ares closed the viewing portal with a sob. He'd seen Gabrielle attach herself to Joxer and Joxer **HADN'T** **PUSHED** **HER** **AWAY**!!!!!!!!!  Even when Xena had caught them, when the blond bard had said those horrific things, Joxer still hadn't **DONE** anything!!!! When that blond bitch had kissed him, Ares couldn't bear to watch it anymore and had closed the viewing portal.

He'd been ready to declare himself to Joxer, to appear to him and offer his love and his eternal devotion, his heart, his life. He'd even considered defying Zeus, refusing to fight another unnecessary battle if that's what Joxer wanted of him, but now...now he'd truly lost Joxer. How could the Wannabe-Warrior want anyone else now that he had his one true love, the woman he'd been in love with for years? How could Ares ever hope to compete?

"Why are the Fates so cruel to me?" the War God wondered with a whimpering sigh. Then he burst into tears, crying for his lost love.

=!=!=!=!=!=!=!=!=

Footnotes:

1) Latissimus Dorsi Muscle : A muscle for adduction and extension of the arm. Located around the middle of the back.

2) Platysma Muscle : A wide sheet of skeletal muscle that originates from the deep fascia and skin upon the lower neck and upper chest.

^%^%^%^%
Erin
-----
Dryer of Ares' tears
Slapper of the Bitchy Blond Bard

Erin's House-O-Fanfic
http://www.slashaholics.org/erin/warning.html

House-O-Fanfic mailing list
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/House_O_Fanfic/

IWJTCSN mailing list
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/IWJTCSN/

Ravings of an Unbalanced Mind
http://erinslashslut.livejournal.com/

My AdultFanFiction.Net page
http://adultfan.nexcess.net/aff/authors.php?no=9038

My FanFiction.Net page
http://www.fanfiction.net/~erinstrifelvr

My page on AJCS (come laugh at the typos in my fic)
http://www.aresjoxercupidstrife.com/erinl.html

The old KSA archive with some of my old fic on it
http://www.slashaholics.org/ksa/index.htm
 

Title: Pair of Fools 17/31

Authors: Erin and Candace, Stygian Goddesses

Part 17 Author: Candace

Fandom: HtLJ - X:WP

Pairing: Established Deimos/Phobos, fighting Herc/Ares, and shocking Gabrielle/???

Summary: Gabrielle's on the rebound from both Joxer *and* Xena. Strife discovers Zebron's not so bad after all, and being king has a few perks. Herk puts Ares in his place. Deimos runs a little errand.

Archive: Candace's Fugue, Erin's House-O-Fanfic, our LJ's, RCoS.

Feedback: Please? PLEASE???

Rating: PG for kissing and fighting

Warnings: Mpreg, twincest, metaphoric fight-sex, frightful punctuation and still more foreboding of necrophilia

Disclaimers: If you sue me, I'll quit my job and go on Welfare. So go ahead. Make my day.
 

(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)
PAIR OF FOOLS
part 17
(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Gabrielle, the blonde Bard of Potadea, glared off into the forest long after the wannabe warrior known as Joxer the Mighty left. If ever in her life she was sure of anything, it was the love of Xena and the desire of Joxer. And now, it seemed, she had neither.

Sitting upon a conveniently-placed treestump, Gabbie buried her face in her hands and wept. She cried until her breaths came in long, shuddering gasps. She cried until her eyes were nearly swollen shut. She cried until her nose was completely blocked.

And then she wiped snot away with her dainty hand and looked up to see a figure coming toward her, silhouetted by the setting sun, which threw blood red stains against the bottoms of the shreds of cloud that hung hither and yon.

))Oh, great. Now Strife is here.(( “What do you want,” she asked quizzically?

The skinny, pale ex-godling lumbered up to her and stood, his leathers nearly pressed into her ratty green brassiere, as if he’d never mastered the concept of “personal space.”

“Where is Autolycus,” he asked, his voice gritty?

*Brushing tears off her skirt* “How would I know. He’s probably off stealing something?”

Strife continued to stand there, and eventually Gabrielle felt a little awkward, like she should probably say something.

“Why. Did he steal your godhood or something.”

Strife tilted his head *way* too far to one side and regarded her curiously. “Why would call me a god.”

“A little thick, aren’t you?” Everyone knew that Strife was crazy, so Gabby didn’t think too hard about his obvious mental fog. Still, he was a god, and if things worked out the way they normally did, he’d soon resume all of his godly attributes, which of course would come with their full compliment of godly perks. Strife wasn’t her first choice as a lover, but he’d be better than Joxer. And wouldn’t Xena be plenty jealous if Gabrielle were dating a god--from the *House of War* at that?

Gabrielle stood up from the stump and Strife’s head swiveled creepily to follow the action. “I’ll help you find Autolycus,” she said. “But first you have to watch the sun set with me.”

*Strife sits on the stump, totally expressionless.*

“Okay,” Said Gabby, easing herself onto Strife’s lap. He didn’t object. She put her arm around his shoulders and gazed at Helios’ blazing disc. “Did you ever hear the story about the boy who tried to eat the sun?”

*About an hour and forty-two minutes pass in which Gabrielle never stops talking and the world is cloaked in darkness.*

“.....and it turned out to be a great tree, in which round orange fruits dangled. And they made the most wonderful juice. The end.” Gabrielle sighed, and turned to Strife, who was staring silently at the spot in which the sun had sunk some time ago.

Gabbie wondered why she’d always found Strife so annoying. “You know, you’re an *awesome* listener.”

His head swiveled and he looked at her with milky, pale eyes.

Gabrielle leaned forward, bit by bit, inch by inch, until her face was almost right against Strife’s. “Kiss me,” she breathed.

Strife’s neck made a cracking sound as he shrugged and pressed his cool lips to her’s.

*****

“**#*ARRREEEESSS!!!!*#**”

Ares barely had time to dash the tears away from his limpid brown eyes as his half-brother, the half-god Hercules burst through the doors of the Halls of War. He put on his bravest face and stood to face his stalwart sibling.

“What is it this time, Hercules.”

“You... you....” Hercules, angered beyond words, tore a marble column from its base and broke it over his knee like so much kindling. Luckily, it wasn’t a load-bearing column.

Ares sighed. “Come on. You can’t just come in trashing my place without letting me know why.”

Hercules sputtered. Marble dust shot from his nose and mouth, reminding Ares of an angered dragon. “My life partner, my *soulmate*--is in bed with the King of Thieves. And I know you’re behind it. Do not even try to deny it!!!!”

In a flash, Ares appeared before Hercules, half a jagged column in his hand. “**#*WHAT*#**??!?” he said.

“You heard me,” Hercules hissed, hefting the hefty second half of the column.

Like mighty titans, god and demi-god commenced their great duel. Thick marble shafts struck together with sounds like great thunderbolts. First Hercules thrust, his great muscles working and straining. He let out a bellow like a monstrous ox as he swung the imposing pillar.

Ares parried, swinging his gargantuan rocky rod as his muscular body bulged and rippled. Then Hercules jabbed, as if to impale his dark brother. Ares danced away and then lunged, and lunged again.

And at once, the two columns came crashing together, exploding in a rain of white marble chips, dust surrounding the scene in a great, choking nimbus.

Both god and demi-god glared at one another, blue eyes against brown, hands on knees. Panting.

Just then the side door to the temple opened, and haloed by the setting sun, was the unmistakable flapped silhouette of Joxer’s Helmet.

“**#*JOXER???*#**” Ares warbled.

“Ares?”

“Oh, Joxer!!!!!” Ares dusted the remains of the column, now little more than grains of sand, from the front of his leathers as he swooped in to gather the slimmer mortal in a tender embrace. “Hercules told me that Autolycus seduced you. But I can see he was just mistaken.”

“Autolycus?” Hercules frowned. “No, you ninny! Autolycus seduced *Iolaus!*”

Ares spluttered. “But... but... Autolycus was after *Joxer!!!*”

Joxer blinked.

“He was,” Hercules murmured?

Ares briefly wondered what happened to Beraeus, but shrugged and decided not to pursue it. He enfolded Joxer carefully in his dusty, strong arms and transported the two of them somewhere far, far away. They had some serious talking to do, and Ares knew it wouldn’t happen with Hercules all over them like flies on shit.

¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥

Strife lay back and wiggled his toes in contentment as a pair of cool cucumber slices were placed over his eyes. First came a sauna, and then a bath, and then a manicure, pedicure and shave. That was followed by a massage, an herbal wrap, a mud bath, another regular bath, a great feast, a short play, an elaborate hair styling, a frozen drink, and a tidy haiku.

Being king seemed to have its perks.

“Have the guards found my friend Cupid yet?” he asked one of his numerous, scantily clad attendants.

“Not yet, your highness.”

“Well, keep looking.” It was sure fun being mortal, but it would be twice as fun with his comely cousin to help him enjoy it.

“Hey, Cuz,” drawled an annoying blond voice. Strife didn’t even need to remove the cucumber slices to match it to a name. One of two names, anyway. They were interchangeable, though. A “D” or a “P” that ended with”os” and had trouble all over the middle.

“What do you want,” Strife sighed. “Can’t you see I’m trying to be mortal here?”

“I’ve come because I need you to look after Phobos for a little while.”

Strife pretended he wasn’t curious about that request, but it just didn’t pan out. He sat up abruptly, shedding cucumber. “I’m stripped of my powers. You’re full gods. Why do you need ME to take care of HIM.”

And as his eyes adjusted, he saw that, for once, his twin cousins were dressed differently. One was in the same old shorts set, while the other one was wearing something like a brown leather tent, complete with fringes. It was almost as if an unskilled seamstress attempted the Deimos/Phobos uniform without the aid of any shears or seams. The shapeless garment draped over Phobos’ jutting hipbones (as he was standing with his back pointedly arched) and hung gracelessly to just above his knees. A tiny, studded pillbox hat in matching brown completed the ensemble.

“What the hell happened to his costume?”

Phobos turned and flung himself into Deimos’ arms, weeping copious tears. “There there,” Deimos murmured, patting the pillbox hat. “You know he was always a total knob.”

“But I feel so FAAAAT!!” Phobos wailed, while Deimos shushed him and clucked to him and made other soothing noises that were entirely out of place on him.

“I’m not a knob.”

“To refuse to help us in our time of need,” Deimos sighed, shaking his head. “That really is low. Even for you. Cuz.”

Strife felt vaguely guilty, though he didn’t know why. “Okay, okay. What do you need?”

“Just keep an eye on him,” Deimos said, conjuring a big, squishy chair that Phobos backed into carefully. “I don’t want any of the other gods or those pesky mortals bugging him; you know how spiteful they all are. Except Xena, she’s pretty cool. I dunno how long I’ll be--I need to go run a few errands and it might take a little while.”

“You’re not gonna forget the pickles, are you?” asked Phobos tearily.

Deimos materialized a scroll and checked it twice. “Nope. I’ve got pickles, haggis, Fresca and Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby. You said that was 20th Century, right?”

Phobos nodded, knuckling away a tear.

“What?” Strife said! “You’re time traveling?!?”

“Don’t tell anybody,” Deimos hissed conspiratorially. “It’ll get Zeus’ panties all in a bunch. I’m not gonna mess with the time line or nothing. I just want to get my Phobie a little snack.”

“Hurry back,” Phobos sniffled.

Deimos leaned in to kiss him, opening wide and jamming his tongue into Phobos’ mouth. “Don’t worry, babe. You’re always with me.”

///Babe, I'm leaving, I must be on my way

The time is drawing near

My train is going, I see it in your eyes

The love, the need, your tears

But I'll be lonely without you

And I'll need your love to see me through

Please believe me, my heart is in your hands

And I'll be missing you.///

Strife stared at the dancing afterimages of lights that heralded Deimos’ departure. “He’s time traveling like two millennia to get you a *snack?* What the fuck?”

Phobos clucked his tongue and attempted to settle himself in his chair with numerous twitches and contortions. “You’ll understand someday when *you’re* a father.”

And suddenly the pickles, the copious tears and the oversized uniform all clicked in Strife’s mind. And he shuddered.

///You know it's you Babe

Whenever I get weary and I've had enough

Feel like giving up

You know it's you Babe

Giving me the courage and the strength I need

Please believe that it's true

Babe, I love you.///

“Babe” by Styx

*****

Candace
Prom Queen
 

www.candace1.com/fugue
 
 

Title: Pair of Fools 18/31

Authors: Candace and erin, writers of wreally hot nookie

Part 18 Author: Erin

Fandom: HtLJ - X:WP

Pairing: Deimos/Phobos established, Herc/Iolaus established, Auto/Iolaus established, Xena/Gabby as always, Ares/Joxer getting closer, Gabby/Beraeus staring to heat up, Cupid/Strife almost there!!!

Summary: Ares planns for his Joxie schnookums are thwarted, Xena decides to help out her daddy, Phobos thinks about names for his little bundle of trouble, Cupid and Strife straighten things out between them and Deimos and Phobos have a crisis about their potential rugrat.

Archive: Candace's Fugue, Erin's House-O-Fanfic, our LJ's, RCoS.

Feedback: if U dont gimme some NOW im gonna start cwyyyying!!!!!!!!!111!!!one!!!!

Rating: pg-13

Warnings: mpreg, nasty girlz messing with the m/m, necrophilia hinted at

Disclaimers: I intend no infringement upon the characters -- just lots of groping.
 

:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:
PAIR OF FOOOLS
 Part 18
:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!:!

Joxer looked around in shock. One moment he'd been in Ares' temple, and the next Ares was grabbing him and taking him...wherever they were. He'd only gone to Ares’ temple out of desperation, because if Ares was in love with Xena then Joxer knew he didn't stand a chance, but he'd been willing to take a chance and pray to Ares to hear him out. He hadn't expected to walk in on a fight between him and Hercules. And what was all that about Autolycus?

"Are you _alright_?" the War God asked, his arms still around the man he loved to pieces.

"Uh...yea." the mousse-haired mortal was more than a little confused, and having those muscular arms around him wasn't helping the thought process. "Where *are* we?"

"Someplace secret; _noone_ else knows about it and I have *so* much to tell--"

"*ARES*!!!"

"*Oh*, for _Hades_ sake!" Ares released the other man and turned to face the intruder.

Xena was bearing down on them with a grim expression, occasionally flipping over a bush or rolling to the side to avoid a tree. She'd run for hours, trying to put Gabrielle's betrayal out of her mind, crying until there were no tears left, and when she'd stopped running, she'd suddenly heard voices in this out of the way place. Voices she recognized. One look at Ares grabbing Joxer and she'd known that the Wanna-be Warrior was once again in trouble.

"*Get* your hands _off_ of him, Ares!!" She yelled, drawing her sword and chakram.

"**Eeep**!" Joxer quickly pulled out of the War God's grasp, backing away with raised hands. "I'm _really_ sorry, Xena! It *wasn't* what it *looked* like! He's *all* yours!!!" With that he turned and ran, desperate to put some distance between him and a jealous Warrior Princess.

"**##*JOXER*##**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Ares shrieked in despairing horror, but it was too late, the Wannabe-Warrior had vanished into the night.

"Leave him alone, Ares!" Xena demanded darkly, using a pressure point to ease the stiff muscles of her overused legs. "You may be my father but I won't let you mess with my friends!!!"

"But you. you don't _understand_!!" the War God sobbed sadly, sniffing. "I. I **love** him!!!!"

"You **love** him?" the Warrior Princess snorted disbelievingly, then bounced her chakram off two trees, a bush and a rock to kill a bird that was looking at them funny. "Since when?"

"I've *always* loved him," Ares sobbed loudly. "Ever since the first time he crawled into my temple after his father beat him too badly to walk. I've listened to _every_ prayer he's ever prayed to me and I've just been _waiting_ for the right time to let him know how I felt. I thought *now* was that time but *you* had to show up and *ruin* it!!!!" He burst into tears.

"Oh *Ares*, I'm *so* sorry!" Xena dropped her sword and wrapped her father in a tight hug, although she still kept a close eye out, scanning their surroundings for danger. "I wish you'd *told* me, then I _never_ would've interrupted."

"I didn't think you'd *approve*," the God of War sniffled against her leather shoulder pad.

"*Of* *course* I approve!! Joxer needs someone who _knows_ what he's been through, and with the way Zeus treats _you_, beating you for _no_ reason, making you fight all those wars, you're *perfect* for Joxer! You'll both be *so* happy! And I _promise_ I'll help you find Joxer and talk with him."

"*Thank* *you*!!!!!" Ares hugged his black clad daughter tightly.

&=&=&=&=&=&

"And then, when the little munchkin is old enough to hold a knife, I'm gonna teach him how to carve out eyeballs," Phobos said dreamily.

"Sounds great, Cuz," Strife said mechanically. It was his standard response to whatever came out of his cousin's mouth now, because the other man wasn't really listening.

The bleach-blond god leaned back in the chair he was currently occupying, sticking his stomach out dramatically, and sighed happily. "I gotta think of a good name for the little sprog. Something that ends in 'os.'"

"Dementos," Strife suggested sneeringly.

"I guess Deimos might have a couple suggestions, 'cause I'm coming up blank."

"Wackos."

"I mean, we'll need two names, one for a boy and another for a girl."

"Moronicos."

"But I don't _want_ a girl!" Phobos was suddenly near tears. "I want a *boy* who looks just like my sweet *Deimos*!"

"Bimbos."

"What am I gonna do if I pop out a *girl*!!!" The blond god burst into tears then, sobbing loudly.

"Psychos."

Just then the bedroom door burst open and two big, burly brutes of the guard entered, dragging a struggling blond, buff babe between them.

"**CUPID**!!!!" Strife jumped to his feet, grinning in open welcome. *Unbelievably* happy to see his hot hunk of a cousin after hours of listening to his other blond cousin whingning.

"We found him, Your Majesty," one of the Cro-Magnon look alike guards said.

"Yea, yea, I c'n see dat. So why don'tchya both haul ass outta here 'n leave 'im wit me, huh?" the ex-Mischief God waved them away.

"Yes, Your Majesty," the two chorused, then bowed and backed out of the room.

"What's this 'bout, Strife--er, Bob?" Cupid demanded.

"Na, ya c'n call me Strife again. Dat Bob thin' got old. 'Sides, check out da bitchin' set up I got here, Cupe!" Strife waved his arms around to indicate the richly decorated bedroom.

"Yea, nice." Cupid shrugged distractedly, then frowned. "Phobos came with the decor?"

"Na, Deimos dropped 'im off here 'cus he went 'n got knocked up 'n he wanted 'im ta stay safe 'n all."

"**They're** gonna have a kid?" The ex-Love God suddenly looked very pale.

"Yea, tell me 'bout it." The blue eyed, dark haired ex-god shuddered. "Butchya c'n just ignore 'im for now. He's all caught up 'n tryin' ta figuah outta name fer their brat."

"Have they considered Horrificus?"

"We'll suggest it ta 'im latah. Listen, 'cuz, we gotta talk." Strife slid silently up to his broad-shouldered, handsome cousin. "I got dis *all* figuahed out."

"Huh?" Cupe frowned at him.

"Da mortals here? Dey t'ink I'm dat King Beraeus dude, so dey went 'n gave me all *dis* shit!" Grinning widely, Strife threw his arms out to indicate everything. "I got it *all* here, Cuz! Personal servants, all tha money ya c'n want, good food, *everythin'*!! See, tha way I figuah it, if I gotta be mortal, I'm gonna live tha *good* life!!!" He giggled conspiratorially.

"Yea, whatever." Cupid glared at his cousin frostily. "And I suppose Autolycus is hangin' 'round here somewhere too, right? Maybe waiting to jump in bed with ya, huh?"

"Huh?" the ex-Mischief God repeated. "What're ya yappin' 'bout, Cupe? Why would I have Auto *here*? I left 'im back neah  tha dungeon."

"Yea! Where ya told me ya *loved* him!!" Cupe shoved him back hard.

The dark haired ex-god stumbled back with a hurt expression. "**Cupid**! What're ya *doin'*? 'N what tha *fuck*'re ya *talkin'* 'bout? I *don't* love Autolycus!! He's inta women, *not* me, 'n anyways, I'm inta **YOU**."

"Ya--what?" Cupid frowned. He felt a surge of hope inside him, but he didn't dare believe it. "I *saw* you with Auto, Strife! You *told* me ya love him!!!"

"**Hold** up a minute!!" Suddenly it occurred to Strife what might've happened. "**NOW** I remembah!!! When I left 'im dere, I left 'im wit tha *real* King Beraeus!! Somehow da dude got himself reanimated -- it's totally cool, wit all dat lividity 'n rigormortis shit. Auto broke me outta dat dungeon 'cuz he wanted me ta owe 'im a favah, but den dat King Beraeus came staggerin' alon' talkin' 'bout how Auto wuz his love 'n destiny 'n all dat shit. I traded clothes wit 'im 'cuz he had some totally tight threads, 'n before I knew it, der's all these people talkin' 'bout *me* being da King!! So cool, huh?"

"Wait a sec, you're tellin' me that the man I talked to was King Beraeus in all that black leather, *not* you?"

"Dat's right." Strife stepped closer, lowering his eyes a bit. "Ya see, Cupie, I wuz kinda hopin' ta share all dis wit you. We're both mortal now, so. I pretend I'm dis king dude, 'n noone's gonna say shit 'bout who I'm sleepin' wit 'n we both get tha Royal treatment, see?"

"Why share it with me?"

"'Cus. 'cus, I love ya, Cupe. Always did." The ex-Mischief God glanced up from under his eyelashes, tears brimming in his blue eyes. "It's just, ya were always runnin' after someone else. Ya never saw *me*. But. but now I got all *dis* rich 'n fancy shit. I got somethin' ta offer ya. Will ya stay, Cupe?"

"For *this*?" The ex-Love God looked around the richly furnished bedroom in contempt. "I don't *care* about any of this, Strife!"

"Oh." The other man's voice was small, defeated. Strife closed his eyes, sniffing hard. He'd gambled and lost. The beautifully buff, bronzed, ex-winged god in front of him didn't want him.

"All I've *ever* cared about is **YOU**, Strife!!" Cupie grabbed his cousin by his delectably bare shoulders and pulled him close.

Startled, Strife stared at his bigger cousin in disbelief. He *couldn't* have heard that right. "Ya. ya want me, Cupe?" he whispered haltingly.

"*Of* *course* I want you!! I don't care if we're living in a *gutter* somewhere!! None of this means anything, Strife, *your* all that matters!"

"Oh, #sweet# Hades!!" Strife sniffed, choking back a sob. "Ya're *serious*! Ya *want* me!!!" Tears began to drip down his face, delicate drops of delectation.

"I only chased after those others 'cus I didn't think *you* wanted *me*!!" Cupie said with a sob of his own, his limped blue eyes filling with luminous liquid. "And. and Psyche. She was just. just an accident, cuz. I *swear*! I hit myself with my own arrow and ya know how *that* turned out!"

"Dat schemin' bitch nevah deserved ya. Cheatin' on ya wit Apollo like dat."

"And with Bacchus."

"'N Morpheus.

"Thanatos too."

"Dat time wit Zeus."

"Twice with Hepaestus."

"Hades?"

"Yea. Ares too, but Dad apologized."

"She tricked 'im. Oh, don't f'get when she disguised herself as Deimos ta do Phobos."

"And then to do Deimos, right. My brothers never were too bright. There was that once with Poseidon."

"Uh-huh. 'N Pan."

"She started with Hercules."

"Ya sure, Cupe? I t'ought it wuz Asclepius?"

"Nah, he was second. There was Hermes though.

"'N Ganymedes."

()()()()()()()()()()()()

Dragging himself off the bed, Autolycus fell to the floor with a despairing moan. "No. no more," he gasped out, using his nails to drag himself across the floorboards to the door. "Can't. can't go anymore. Must have water. Food. Sleep."

He'd just hooked his fingers around the edge of the door when hands went around his ankles and he was dragged backwards.

"C'mon, Auto," Iolaus said cheerfully, dragging him back towards the bed. "I'm hard again. You can suck me off and fuck me."

"Help!" the thief gasped out, trying in vain to struggle out of the hunter's grip, but every muscle in his body was sore and limp, including the one Iolaus would want to use.

Iolaus grinned down at him. "Ready for round fifty-two?"

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Outside the inn, King Beraeus broke his lip lock with the beautiful blond bard. "I heard my true love!" he hissed, looking up at the upper part of the inn.

"That was me moaning," Gabrielle whispered throatily, cuddling up to him. "You're such a great kisser, Strife. Let's do it again."

"I need to find Autolycus," Beraeus said, pushing her away.

The shove pushed her back, jarring her, and at that moment something fell out of her backpack, landing with a rattle on the ground. They both stared at it.

"What're those?" the Amazon Bard frowned at the dimly glittering objects, starlight reflecting off of them.

"My crown jewels!" Beraeus hissed, and his fingers closed around her wrise with a vicelike grip. “How did you *steal* them from my *vault*?”

"*Steal*? **Me**?!?" Gabby gasped, gaping at him. Then her eyes narrowed. "It was *Autolycus*!! It *had* to be!! He was with me earlier and I just *know* he hid those on me!! And what d'you mean *you're* crown jewels? Gods don't have crown jewels, do they? Unless you mean these?" She reached down and groped him. "And they feel just fine to me, Strife. And why would you keep them in a *vault?* That sounds so *sepulchral.*"

"My name is *Beraeus*, woman!!" he hissed, his grip tightening on her. "But if you're so eager to touch, I'll be happy to accommodate you," he said with a leer. "Since I know where Autolycus is now, I can take my time."

"*Beraeus*?" the stupefied bard whispered. "But. but Beraeus is dead!"

"I still am." And he kissed her again.

Cold, clammy lips. Gabby had noticed the temperature and texture before, but she hadn't wanted to offend a god, but *this* was different!

"AAAHHH!" she screeched, pulling her mouth away from his.

"Oh good," Beraeus smirked, "I like screamers."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Deimos appeared in the Royal bedroom with the pop of a blue bubble. No one noticed.

"Heya, Phoby, baby!" Deimos cooed without looking up from his armful of items. "Got it all, sweetie! Found a *super* big pickle. We can use it for somethin' else if ya don't wanna eat it. Gotchya the haggis and the ice cream. You wouldn't *believe* the prices they're charging in the future! Good thing I can just steal. So watchya want fir. **PHOBOS**!!!!" Deimos shrieked his blond brother's name, dropping everything with a huge splat.

Phobos was slumped in a chair, bawling his blue eyes out. He didn't even look up at his brother.

"Phoby, sugarbaby! What's *wrong*?!?" Deimos dropped dramatically to his knees in front of the chair, wrapping his arms around his brother.

"Oh *Deimos*! Your back!!" the spiked blond pregers god sobbed brokenly, hugging his brother tightly. "Oh, it so *horrible*!!!!!!"

"*What* is, honeyschookems?" his brother asked concernedly. "Did *Strife* do something to you?!!" Not releasing his hysterically sobbing brother, Deimos looked around for their cousin.

Strife was there, with Cupid. They were both just standing around talking.

"Achilles," said the ex-Mischief God.

"Jason," added the ex-winged god.

"Orpheus."

"Iphicles."

"I'll kill him!!" Deimos hissed, but then his twin was tugging him closer.

"No, Deimos!!! You don't get it!!! I. I just had the most **horrid** thought!! What. what if. if I had a ***girl***!!!!!!!!"

"A **girl**!!!!!" the spiked blond god gasped in horror. "But. you *can't*, Phoby!!! Everyone knows girls get in the way of guys having sex!!! Our sex life would be ***RUINED**!!!!!!!!!!" Deimos burst into big tears, adding his own whales of devastation to his brothers shrieking sobs.

"Caesar."

"Yep. His guards too."

"The Trojan army."

"Ya sure? Wuzn't it tha Persian army?"

"Both. The story's on those urns up in Thrace."

"Riiight. Tha ones by Picassocles. Hey, didn't she?"

"Yea, modeled nude for him. Oh, last time the Egyptians invaded, she did them too."

"Before or aftah she did tha Romans?"

"Same time. The Gauls too."

"Eire, right?"

"Every man on the island. And in Chin."

"Don't f'get tha Norse."

"Yep."

`#`#`#`#`#
Erin
Keeper of Psyche's list of conquests (all fourteen hundred dozen volumes)

Erin's House-O-Fanfic
http://www.slashaholics.org/erin/warning.html

House-O-Fanfic mailing list
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/House_O_Fanfic/

IWJTCSN mailing list
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/IWJTCSN/

Ravings of an Unbalanced Mind
http://erinslashslut.livejournal.com/

My AdultFanFiction.Net page
http://adultfan.nexcess.net/aff/authors.php?no=9038

My FanFiction.Net page
http://www.fanfiction.net/~erinstrifelvr

My page on AJCS (come laugh at the typos in my fic)
http://www.aresjoxercupidstrife.com/erinl.html

The old KSA archive with some of my old fic on it
http://www.slashaholics.org/ksa/index.htm

Joxerotica II, because I'm archived here.
http://www.joxerotica.com/
 

Title: Pair of Fools 19/31

Authors: Erin and Candace--difficult, melodramatic creative types

Part 19 Author: Candace

Fandom: HtLJ - X:WP

Pairing: Deimos/Phobos, Gabs/Berry, Cupid/King Strife-Bob

Summary: SOOO much happens in this installment! Herc cries. Xena is smart. Joxer falls. Auto escapes. Gabbie screams. Beraeus moans. Phobos screams.

Archive: Candace's Fugue, Erin's House-O-Fanfic, our LJ's, RCoS.

Feedback: Admit it. You're reading this story.

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mpreg, full blown necrophilia and some stinky brown stuff

Disclaimers: Please do not (Mary) Sue me.

%~%~%~%~%
PAIR OF FOOLS
Part 19
%~%~%~%~%

Xena darted through the trees, branches lashing at her lean thighs, as she ducked boughs and vaulted over small shrubbery. “He can’t have gotten far,” murmured the Warrior Princess. She liked Joxer, really she did. But she had to admit that he simply wasn’t very.....athletic. And even though she’d taken a few moments to converse with her poor, misunderstood sire, the Warrior Wannabe simply *couldn’t* have gained that much distance on her.

It was with thoughts of Joxer that Xena hurtled headfirst into the broad chest of a weeping Hercules.

“Hercules?” she exclaimed. “What are *you* doing here?!?”

“The love of my life...” the demigod blubbered.

“Ah,” Xena said sagely. “Iolaus. What’s the problem?”

“He’s in bed with the King of Thieves.”

“Autolycus,” Xena said knowingly. “Go on.”

Hercules swiped at his cerulean eyes. “I...I know he gets upset with me sometimes. And I’m willing to change--really, I am! But this time, he ran upstairs with Autolycus. Naked.”

Xena waited patiently, patting Hercules on the shoulder while he shed copious tears.

“And I knew that Iolaus wouldn’t just tear my heart out and stomp on it, just like that. And so I knew Ares had to be behind it?”

“Ares,” Xena hissed.

“Ares. But then I found my blackhearted brother in his temple, and we fought, and he denied everything.”

Xena raised an eyebrow. “So what now?”

Hercules hid his face and his hands and wept. “I...don’t...know!!!!”

Xena’s heart went out to her once-lover. After all, hadn’t Gabrielle just spurned her for Joxer? (And, wait a minute, wasn’t Joxer just in the secluded grove with Ares?) Xena’s tattered heart leaped in her bosom. They needed to get back to Zebron.

But there was Hercules, crouched on the ground and crying to beat the band. Xena took in his huddled form and pondered. How to get to Zebron and make things right with Gabrielle without seeming callous toward Hercules?

“C’mon, Muffin,” she said, hauling up the Demigod by an arm with the circumference of a picnic ham. “I’ve got just the plan.”

“What,” Hercules sniffed? “What is it.”

Xena gave him a knowing look. “You’ll see.” There was no plan, of course. But things would happen, and if they went well, she could take all the credit.

*****

“Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Owie! Oww. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ooof!! Ow. Ow.”

***sprunk***

***clatter***

After tripping over his own boot and rolling down a hill for what seemed like days, Joxer came to rest upon a moss and vine-covered doorway.

The portal was carved all over with glyphs, runes and sigils, ancient and weather-worn. The signs of planets made an arc across the top, while the symbols of the elements and humours were arrayed amidst several pentagrams across the center. “Apollo luvs Daphne! True luv 4 ever!!” was scrawled in Magic Marker across the bottom.

“Wow,” murmured Joxer in awe. “A door.”

Of course a door like that with all those magical symbols would lead to something dangerous and grand, and of course Joxer couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag, but he was a curious man. And so he went to the rune encrusted door and pushed.

Nothing happened.

Joxer pushed and pulled, pried and pressed. He tried every magical sounding word he knew, from *abracadabra* to *zamboni.* He knocked and he scraped, and he smashed his forehead against it a few times for good measure. And then he noticed the worn, faded Welcome Mat in front of it, which he’d been standing on the whole time. Sure enough, a spare key was tucked underneath.

The great door unsealed with an inrush of air. Joxer poked his head in, squealing as magical torches sprang to life along the walls, burning with a amethyst-colored flame that generated a pale, gem-colored light, but no heat.

One cautious foot before the other, Joxer crept into the ancient, sealed hallway. The door ground shut behind him with something that sounded like a chuckle and a sigh. Or maybe he was anthropomorphizing it. But anyway, it was damn creepy.

With noplace else to go, Joxer trod on.

*****

“You can’t do this!” Insisted Gabrielle.

The glassy-eyed man on top of her smiled. “It seems to be working just fine to me.” He tore at her small green top and the ragged fabric shredded, her soft, pale breasts spilling forth, delicate and smooth in the moonlight.

Gabby shivered as the cool night air teased her nipples, and suddenly her body ached to be touched. After all, she and Xena were always either saving towns or humoring Joxer; they hardly ever had time for sex.

“You stop that right now!” Gabrielle cried as Beraeus’ chill hand grazed her ribs, cupping her breast and testing the heft of it. Her back arched of its own accord and she cringed, trying to will her body not to respond.

“You truly are lovely,” said Beraeus in his thick, gravelly voice. “I wish I’d seen you before I set my sights on that stupid cow, Ramina.”

Lovely? When was the last time someone had called her that? Without thinking Gabrielle preened, which pressed her breast harder into Beraeus’ palm, which then made her shiver again. “Who’s Ramina.”

“My fiancee. I would make her a queen, and instead she betrayed me, had me killed, and ran off with Tarlus--an old friend of my family’s.”

Before she could help herself, Gabrielle petted Beraeus’ cold cheek. “Oh. that’s so sad.”

“Never mind that,” he responded. He grabbed at his own outfit, tugging and pulling. “I can’t figure out how to get this damn thing off.”

*****

Still humming the last few bars of a nasally lullabye that had, nonetheless, done its job, Autolycus eased the tiny window open. His poor prick felt like it had been flayed, and his thigh muscles were on fire. His arms were two wet noodles and his jaw made a clicking sound whenever he opened it too far.

“I think I’ve got *you* out of my system for the next five hundred years or so,” Auto said to Iolaus’ slumbering form as he slipped out the window. “Don’t call me, I’ll call you. Not.”

The King of Thieves fixed his grappling hook on the windowsill and shimmied down his rope to freedom. He freed the hook with an expert flick of his wrist and melted into the shadows.

*****

“...Salmoneus,” Strife added, counting his fingers again. He thought it would probably go faster if he took his boots off and started counting his toes. And if he pulled down his pants he could count to twenty-one.

“The Argonauts,” Cupid sighed.

“But, hey,” said Strife. “Who’s countin’?” He gathered Cupid into his bare arms, trying to hide the fact that he just wanted to press his crotch into Cupid’s thigh. “What really matters is, you’re free to be wit’ who evah you wanna be wit’.”

Cupid traced the strange curls that Beraeus’ staff beautician had molded into Strife’s hair. It was an interesting look. “Yeah,” he sighed, “I guess so.”

“I *know* so. Look, Cupe. If love comes too easy, people don’t know ta cherish it. They think it’s just somethin’ they can take fer granted. But you an’ me, we been through a lot. I had ta watch ya marry someone who didn’t deserve ya. An’ you had ta watch her polish every dick in existence. But now you got me, an’ I got you, an’ I can finally say I lo--”

“Aaaaiiiiiiii!”

Cupid’s and Strife’s heads snapped around. “What was that?” they cried in unison.

Deimos scrambled into the room. “T-t-t-towels! Boilin’ water!”

“Uh oh,” said Strife.

*****

Down, down, down. The staircase turned, then turned again, deeper and deeper, farther and farther, and Joxer swallowed his fear and continued on. The purple lights had faded long ago, and his hand on the rough-hewn wall was his only way of tracking his movements. Crazy frescoes had decorated the walls, getting stranger and fiercer, until finally Joxer was relieved that he didn’t have to look at them any longer.

Because first they showed someone in a crown getting killed and hung up. And then they showed a pair of guys getting thrown off a mountain. And then there were images of people having sex--men with men, women with women, and women with men. And then there were these two blue circles that passed hands a bunch of times. And then a picture of the king again, with lines radiating from him all over.

Joxer didn’t know what it all meant, but it made his hackles stand on end.

Finally, his feet shuffled off a winding stairway and on to a floor. He scuffed his way along, humming his theme song to keep himself company, while slowly the corridor grew marginally brighter. In the gray half-light, Joxer made out an arch at the far end of the hall, flanked by two statues, a lion and a lamb. He approached curiously. The lion had a bow in its mane and the lamb sported razor-sharp canines. Joxer shivered.

The tiny chamber beyond was lit with a soft, ambient glow that had no apparent source. Sweet rushes were strewn on the floor and the ceiling was sooty from years of burned incense. Tiny bundles and charms littered the floor around the base of a statue, lifelike, and somehow, eerily, not. It was the statue of a man, only the sockets where his eyes should have been were empty.

Trembling, Joxer turned and hurried away. Without warning, he found himself teetering on the edge of a pit. The rushes that had camouflaged it fluttered down into the yawning black hole as Joxer’s arms flung themselves wide, balancing, grasping. It seemed that, somehow, he’d caught himself. And then, again without warning, Joxer sneezed. His thin scream echoed from the black pit as his body hurtled downward.

*****

Autolycus rounded the inn on nimble feet, gliding from one velvety shadow to the next. With all the racket going on outside, though, it was unlikely anyone would hear him even if he didn’t use his patented thief-walk. But a guy did have to keep in practice.

A smattering of clothing greeted his eyes first: a tattered green bra, scraps of black leather, and tiny metal rings glittering everywhere in the moonlight. Odd. Auto continued creeping forth, as a chant began forming behind a quivering bush.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes! Yes! Yes! YES! YES! YEEESSSS!!!””

Was that Gabrielle? Eager to witness a bit of hot girl-on-girl action even though his own love muscle had gotten more than enough exercise for one night, the King of Thieves tapped his fingertips together in anticipation and parted the boughs of the bush.

His eyes widened in horror as he beheld Dead King Beraeus ploughing Gabrielle’s lush fields.

Dead hands roved Gabbie’s breasts, kneading and tweaking. A dead, purple tongue traced the contour of her jaw. A dead white ass flexed and clenched as it drove a dead dick deep inside her. And a low, dead voice moaned its pleasure beneath it all.

Moonlight grew misty as Auto lost consciousness.

He woke to rustling and grunting. He parted the bushes to find that he was still undiscovered, and the beauty and the beast had simply shifted positions! Beraeus now knelt up, his hair sticking out at all angles and his neck crooked slightly to one side. Gabrielle straddled him, riding his lap with joyous abandon, her long hair swinging free behind her. One of Beraeus’ blue-tinged hands spread over her lower back, while the other lay long strokes over her strong thighs.

Woozy, Auto listed to one side, then caught himself before passing out once more. He spied a tiny, azure glitter to one side of the copulating couple. There beside Gabrielle’s open traveling pack lay the Crown Jewels of Zebron, gleaming deep blue in the starlight.

But how could he get to them with Gabby and Beraeus making whoopie right there? Sure they were pretty distracted. But they’d have to be blind not to see him.

Unless....

“Come on,” Gabrielle murmured, her body rising and falling. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me deep. Come on, baby, yeah. That’s right. Fuck me so hard I don’t know my own name.”

*cough* Sixty-Nine! *cough*

“Fu--” she paused, covering Beraeus’ dead mouth in a kiss that he eagerly, if deadly, returned. “I want your hot, hard cock in my mouth. I wanna eat your hairy balls. I wanna feel your tongue deep down inside my gushing pussy.”

Beraeus stared at her, dazed. “My, but you are a dirty little girl.”

Gabrielle slid off his lap and sprawled on her back as he clambered over her, diving between her legs with dead, gleeful abandon as she deep-throated his livid cock.

Once both faces were sufficiently occupied, Autolycus eased around the bush, sneaking furtive peeks even though he told himself he didn’t want to. Snatching up the Crown Jewels of Zebron, he melted back into the shadows, and with one last look (the stuff of wet dreams or nightmares, he couldn’t say) he slipped away.

*****

“C’mon, Phobie. That’s right. Hold my hand.”

Phobos squatted in the corner, his maternity-uniform tenting around him, his face squinched up and red. “I feel more pains. Oh, Deimie, it hurts!”

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. Just breathe through it like they taught me at them Lamaze classes in the future. Huh huh huh huh--heh heh heh heh--huh huh huh huh, c’mon, do it with me.”

“Huh huh huh huh.” Phobos looked around. “Okay, I think I’m okay for a little bit.”

Deimos lay a cool rag on his twin’s damp brow and kissed the tip of his sweaty nose. “Okay, baby, that’s right. You’re doin’ real good.”

Phobos kissed Deimos’ fingers, then pressed them against his cheek. “Oh, Deimie. This is all so soon. I was hoping we’d have more time.”

“Time to enjoy the pregnancy? Yea, I know what ya mean. But we’re gods. An’ it’s hard to tell how long the course of things is gonna be. Especially with the first one.”

Phobos glowed. “The *first* one? Does that mean you wanna have more???”

Deimos took his brother’s sweating face between his palms and stuffed his tongue into Phobos’ mouth tenderly. He lovingly prodded Phobos’ uvula before answering. “Phobie, I’d have all the babies the Fates saw fit ta give us.”

Phobos snuffled back tears. “It’s just that... that I’d hoped...”

“Hoped what, lambykins?”

Phobos blinked rapidly. “That we’d have a chance... a chance...”

“Yea?”

Phobos hid his face in his hands. “To get married!!” he wailed between his trembling fingers.

“O, Phobie!” Deimos gingerly hugged the squatting Phobos. “Don’t you worry! As soon as you’re all healed up, you and me will walk down the aisle, and the whole world will know that you’re the other half of my soul.”

“Really?!?”

“Of course!” Deimos kissed Phobos’ dewy eyelashes, first one eye, then the other. “An’ our handsome first son will be there to see it!”

“Oh, Deimie! That’s so... so.... Oh. Oh. Omigod. Oooh!”

“Okay, Phobie! Okay! Just breathe like I showed ya!”

“Huh huh huh huh--heh heh heh heh--huh huh huh huh--Ooooowww!!!”

***SPLORT***

Deimos lifted the edge of Phobos’ brown leather mumu and peered beneath. “Uh, Phob?”

“What is it, Deimie! It’s a boy, right? Right?”

Deimos stared. “Not exactly.”

“Oh, no. A girl? We have a daughter?” Phobos bit back tears. “I’m sure we’ll love her just the same.”

“Um. No.”

“A hermaphrodite?!?”

Deimos stared. “I dunno how to say this, baby. But I think your pregnancy was a false alarm.”

“What?!?”

Deimos dropped the edge of the mumu. He looked at Phobos carefully. “You were constipated.”

Phobos stared at Deimos and blinked. He considered what his brother just told him. “Oh. Well it sure hurt.”

“You feel better now?”

“Yea, lots.”

Deimos shrugged. “Okay, then. Let’s blow this pop stand.”

With a pair of green, swirly bubbles that flexed the air in the room, the twin gods disappeared.

*****
Candace
Beraeus' Fluffer
Purveyor of Ancient Greek Ex-Lax

www.candace1.com/fugue