AresJoxerCupidStrife - Caroline

A Thousand Miles
In This World of Strangers
No Such Thing As the Real World
Desperate Mesures
Clouds of Olympus
Woman's Work
Answered Prayer's
Friendship Like Wine
Butterfly In Reverse
A Lover Wants
Need and Desolation
Whispers of Immortality
Moment of Forgiveness
The Wonder of Devotion

Title: A Thousand Miles
Author/pseudonym: Caroline Crane
Fandom: X:WP
Paring: Ares/Joxer (also mention of Cupid/Strife, Xena/Gabrielle)
Rating: PG13
Status: new
Archive: if you want this weird little fic, go for it
E-mail address for feedback: caroline_crane@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: that's a good question
Other websites: http://www.geocities.com/carolinecrane
Disclaimers: People get paid to write stuff? I sure don't.

Notes: Hey all, just jumping in with my first ever fic in this fandom. I'm not really sure where this came from, but the idea's been nagging at me for months now so I finally gave in and wrote it. I took some...liberties with Joxer's backstory. I have no idea if there will be more eventually.

Summary: Joxer remembers a bright spot on an otherwise bleak childhood and the reason he left home at sixteen.

Warnings: abuse mention, major angst warning, and Holy. Melodrama. Way over the top, even for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's always times like these when I think of you
And I wonder if you ever think of me
Cause everything's so wrong and I don't belong
Living in your precious memory
Cause I need you
And I miss you
And now I wonder
If I could fall into the sky
Do you think time would pass me by
Cause you know I'd walk a thousand miles
If I could just see you tonight
-- "A Thousand Miles", Vanessa Carlton

Fifteen years had passed since the last time he stopped in this particular clearing, but he still remembered it as though it was yesterday. The place hadn’t changed a bit, not one tree was touched and the aging stone temple at the back of the clearing looked just the way he remembered it. Even the chill in the late autumn air was the same as that day he’d left all those years ago, bringing back memories he’d hoped were long buried. Not all of them were bad, of course; even in the darkest, most desolate childhood there were always a few memories worth holding onto. The problem was that whenever he remembered them he remembered the reason he’d been forced to leave, and he couldn’t stand to relive that part. So he chose to forget, to bury even the sweet memories under fifteen years’ worth of struggle and tell himself it had all been another lifetime ago. *The only trouble with lying to yourself,* he reminded himself bitterly as he looked around the familiar scene, *was that you always knew you were lying.*

“Joxer?” Xena’s voice cut through his reverie, concern and a hint of annoyance in her tone as he looked over at her. He knew she was probably irritated that he was just standing there rather than gathering firewood as she’d ordered him, but he hadn’t been able to help his reaction to seeing the place where he grew up again. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he answered, forcing a weak grin as he focused on her. “I’ll go get the firewood.”

She nodded succinctly as he turned away and headed in the direction of the trees, his heart in his throat as hr got further from the center of the clearing. Maybe he should tell Xena whose temple they were camping right next to, but then again she probably already knew. After all, she used to be one of Ares’ greatest warriors, so she probably knew most of his temples on sight. Anyway it was getting dark and it wouldn’t do any good to try to get her to move on just because he was having flashbacks to his childhood.

He swallowed against a sudden surge of nostalgia and forced himself to step into the woods behind the temple, half expecting to see a familiar figure step out from behind a large tree off to his right. Only it had been fifteen years since he’d seen that face, and he wasn’t even sure if he’d recognize the sixteen-year-old boy in a thirty-one year old man anymore. He wanted to believe that he would, but in his heart he knew that even if he passed the man his childhood friend had grown into on the street he probably wouldn’t know him.

*Just get the firewood*, he told himself, rolling his eyes as he found himself searching the quickly darkening forest for any sign of someone he hadn’t seen in fifteen years. It was ridiculous, and soon it would be dark out and Xena and Gabrielle would be furious if he didn’t bring back enough firewood to last the night. He began picking up branches they could use to keep them warm overnight, letting his mind wander back to the few times in his childhood he’d actually been happy.

Six years - that’s how long it had lasted, he’d had a best friend for six years and they were the happiest days of his life. He didn’t let himself think about it often, in fact since he ran away from home he hadn’t let himself come anywhere near this place just so he wouldn’t be forced to remember. Now he realized how right he’d been to avoid this place, because just the thought of being in the place where it had all happened made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t felt since he was sixteen and on his own for the first time. Not that he didn’t value the friends he had now, Xena and Gabrielle let him tag along and he always welcomed a chance to catch up with Hercules and especially Iolaus. There had been a time when he even tried to convince himself that he could care enough for Gabrielle to have a life with her, but he’d known it was a losing battle from the start. For one thing he hadn’t felt that way about anyone since the day he left home, and for another she was hopelessly in love with Xena.

He sighed as he prayed to Aphrodite for the thousandth time that someday soon Xena would stop worrying about peace and making up for being one of Ares’ warriors long enough to realize that Gabrielle needed more from her than just protection and company. At least one of them should have a happy ending, and Joxer definitely wouldn’t be getting his so he hoped Gabrielle would get hers. He knew it would be a happy ending for Xena too if she’d just open her eyes long enough to see it, but there was nothing he could do to help either of them along.

When he’d gathered enough firewood to keep them warm through the night he took one last look around, sighing softly as he finally let the rush of memories overtake him. The woods still looked just the same as he remembered, if he closed his eyes he could swear he was sixteen again and waiting under a tight cluster of trees with a nearly hidden opening in the middle for the one person he knew he could trust back then. The one person that made him forget the misery of his life with his family just for a little while; just long enough to feel like he was worth more than the contempt his parents showered upon their children.

That was when it started; all those years ago living under his parents' roof he'd learned to pretend that nothing bothered him, to keep a smile on his face no matter what insults his family hurled at him. His brothers handled the hurt differently - Jace retreated so far into his fantasy world that Joxer didn't think he'd ever really known what reality was, and Jett…well, Jett took a much more aggressive approach to dealing with the pain. Joxer was the sweet one, the shy kid that just pretended it didn't matter when his father smacked him just because he'd had a bad day or his mother ignored the fact that she had children to feed and clothe. He told himself it wasn't really anybody's fault, that his parents just didn't know how to deal with their three young sons and they were only human.

He told himself that now that he was older, anyway. It helped him to keep the bitterness and regret locked somewhere deep in his heart where no one could ever touch it, where he wouldn't have to feel it or remember. And anyway it hadn't been all bad, he had a few good memories of his brothers growing up and then there were those six years that he never talked about but always held close. Sometimes the memory of a warm, understanding smile or a soft touch was the only thing that kept him going in a life that was transient at best. He told himself that traveling with Xena and Gabrielle gave him a purpose, meant that he was doing something to help make the world a little better than it had been a year or an hour or even a minute ago. The fact that they more or less tolerated his presence rather than welcomed it wasn't lost on him, but he let them humor him because it was all he really had to hold onto. That and six years' worth of blissful and heartbreaking memories.

And it was his own fault for leaving, because if he'd been stronger he would have stayed and put up with whatever he had to just to stay near the one person that had ever made him feel like life might be worth fighting for after all. He remembered the day they met as clearly as if it was yesterday - he was ten years old and running away, as far and as fast as his gangly, childish legs would carry him. He almost laughed at the fact that he'd barely run ten minutes when he collapsed, exhausted and aching from the fresh bruises forming on his back and jaw. His lip was split and the blood dried on his mouth and chin, leaving him with the bitter taste of copper in his throat as he dropped in front of the old, disused temple where his father made sacrifices when he was sober enough to remember.

When he caught his breath enough to slowly become aware of his surroundings he was frightened; the temple of the God of War was no place for a ten-year-old boy who was naturally weak and clumsy compared to his much stronger brother Jett or the far more graceful Jace. Joxer was the one that his family mockingly - and correctly, his conscience reminded him - referred to as the runt of the litter, an afterthought that would have done well to die at birth and spare them all the trouble of feeding and looking after him. He certainly didn't have any business climbing the steps to the temple, or running timid fingers along the smooth stone walls as he gazed in slack-jawed wonder at the stolid stone statue of Ares on one side of the entrance to the temple.

He knew from listening to his father and his father's terrifyingly gruff friends that Ares rarely, if ever, graced this little temple in the middle of nowhere with his presence, but he knew also that there was a priest who kept up the altar and collected offerings from the loyal followers of War that worshipped there. When he was younger, hiding up in the cramped loft he shared with his brothers while he listened to his father and the other men going on about the glories of battle, Joxer thought that nothing could be more wonderful than serving War. They made it seem so exotic - so dangerous and heroic and more than anything he'd wanted then to be worthy of his father's notice. He wanted to be strong and fearless like Jett, unafraid to look his father in the eye and skilled with weapons the way the other boys his age were quickly becoming.

So when he found himself standing inside Ares' temple, listening to the charge of hushed energy crackle in the air around him, he wanted nothing more than to find the old priest that lived at the temple and beg for a chance to be his apprentice. Even if he was never as strong or capable as Jett or his father he at least wanted a chance to try.

Of course the old man had laughed at him. Of course, and not kindly the way some adults mocked Joxer's wide-eyed, desperate hopes that someday he'd be a warrior like the other men in the village. It was rare to be met by kindness in the world around him, and the old priest was either too tired or too disinterested to bother treating Joxer any differently than the rest of the people in his limited world. He'd turned the boy away almost before Joxer could stammer out his request, shooing him out of the temple with the admonishment that War's temple was no place for a little weakling covered in bruises and smelling of farm animals. It wasn't the first time the words of a stranger had cut him - far from it - but it wounded him all the same.

He fled from the coolness inside the building, vision blurred by unshed tears as he stumbled toward the woods at the back of the temple. He was too preoccupied with the latest humiliation to notice someone watching him until soft laughter floated toward him, and he tensed instantly and curled into himself as he prepared himself for another verbal or possibly physical attack. When he found the source of the laughter he straightened up and wiped at his moist eyes, sniffing defiantly at the boy smiling back at him from the edge of the woods. He was no more than ten years old, but his dark eyes held a wisdom that ten-year-old Joxer couldn't comprehend. All he knew was that he'd never seen this boy before, not in the village where he lived or in any of his rare trips to the larger neighboring town with his father.

"You shouldn't let the old man scare you," the boy said, pushing a shock of dark bangs off his forehead as he crossed his arms over his chest. "He's just a crazy old priest."

"He didn't scare me," Joxer answered, beyond caring that he sounded defensive and, contrary to his claim, more than a little terrified. "I'm not afraid of anything."

He expected the boy to say something nasty about the way Joxer was shaking or make fun of him for crying, but instead he pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and walked forward slowly, as though he was afraid of frightening Joxer away again. "It's okay to be afraid sometimes," he said when he stopped a foot from Joxer. "My name's Timo."

And so it began. He wasn't sure how long they'd played that day, but when he finally snuck into the rundown little house where he'd grown up and crept up to the loft he was exhausted enough to fall asleep almost before his head hit the straw. After that first day he went to the temple as often as he could - he never went inside again, but somehow whenever he got there Timo was waiting for him. They spent hours playing in the woods, talking about what it would be like when they were older and went off to fight in the wars together. They made plans to run away to Sparta, or they laid in the grass and stared up at the clouds and wondered aloud what it would be like to live up there, in Olympus with War and the other gods. And somehow Timo always had enough food so that neither of them went hungry, which was something Joxer wasn't used to but after meeting his new friend his hollow chest started to fill out just enough to make it a little easier to sleep at night.

It went on like that for years, and even though Timo never really talked about his family or the village over the hills where he lived Joxer never thought it strange enough to wonder. It was enough that he had this something that was all his, something to make him smile through the tears when his father remembered him long enough to reacquaint Joxer's back with his belt. He could lose himself in memories of a dozen afternoons spent talking quietly in the woods or just silently following the small stream that ran behind the temple, enjoying each other's company in that way that meant there was no need to talk. Suddenly he had a spot of bright on the otherwise dreary gray canvas that composed his young life, and the odd friendship was enough to make everything else seem just a little less miserable.

He never told anyone, never wanted to share or risk tainting what he'd come to think of as almost sacred by telling his brothers or the other children in the village about his best and only friend. No one ever thought to ask where he disappeared to so often; maybe they were just as happy that he stayed out from underfoot and seemed to give up the insane notion that he could possibly ever compare to Jett or the other, stronger boys in the village. There were still beatings from his father, more as a matter of course than any real punishment. As he got older he realized that it was his father's idea of the best way to toughen up the sons he considered inferior or somehow damaged, and he learned to ignore the hurt that went along with not being good enough because he knew there was one person in the world that thought he was fine just the way he was.

The fact that his feelings shifted from childlike worship to something deeper never really surprised him; as he reached fourteen and his body began to change in all kinds of uncomfortable and embarrassing ways it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to direct all his new-found feelings toward the one person that always made him feel safe. There was the initial awkwardness, of course, no boy his age was immune to that and he went through the panicked shame of wondering *how* exactly to act on what he was feeling. It was the one area of their friendship where Timo didn't take the lead, as a matter of fact. At the time Joxer assumed it was just because his friend was as confused and embarrassed as he was, but in retrospect the other boy had always possessed a sort of quiet grace that made it impossible to imagine him embarrassed about anything.

Even so he never said or did anything until Joxer finally marshaled the courage to make the first move, frustration and finally the need to just *know* one way or the other pushing him into an awkward, groping and less than satisfying kiss. More of a press of lips to the side of his friend's mouth, really, because along with teenage hormones came even more painful clumsiness that Joxer never quite grew out of. So his first kiss couldn't even count as an actual kiss, because he pulled away before he even got started and just stared, lips parted slightly as the dark eyes he'd spent the past four years memorizing gazed steadily back at him.

The waiting hurt; like a weight pressing down on his chest and making it hard to breathe for days and weeks or maybe just a few seconds before those three words, the ones no one really wants to ask but everyone does anyway: "Are you sure?"

And if he hadn't been sure the sound of that voice he loved so much would have cemented it for him, but he'd been sure for longer than he even knew and suddenly and with startling clarity he could answer without hesitation: "Of course. I love you."

It was so simple, really, just a few soft words exchanged between two people that had grown up together, created a magic world that no other human being could touch and suddenly it was just a little bit bigger than it had been a moment ago. The edges shifted almost imperceptibly, blurring just a little before reshaping and forming an even more solid shield against the rest of Joxer's unfortunate life. At least that was the way it had felt at the time; that second brushing of lips on lips that became their first real kiss sent a thrill through Joxer that made him feel invincible, as though the world began and ended with the two of them and nothing could ever touch the most important part of him. The part of him that belonged to a mysterious dark-haired boy from a neighboring village that stole Joxer's heart with a simple offer of friendship.

Reality came rushing back with an unbearable stinging that Joxer blinked away, swallowing hard against the tightness in his throat as he gripped the firewood in his arms more tightly. He had no idea how long he'd been rooted to the spot at the edge of the woods, lost in the memory of sweet kisses that promised so much more; worlds he'd discover over the next two blissful years before it all came crashing down around him. When he came back to himself the sky was dark save for the first few fingers of moonlight above the trees and his arms ached from the weight of the wood. He cleared his throat gruffly and forced himself back to the campsite, smiling his apologies without meeting the concerned gazes of his traveling companions.

"Joxer, is everything okay?" Xena asked, exchanging a glance with Gabrielle that wasn't lost on him. He imagined - hoped, really - that the two of them would assume his somber expression and long absence meant he was licking his wounds over Gabrielle's lack of interest in him. It was better that way, better to suffer a familiar humiliation than to stumble over an explanation about this place he didn't want to think about anymore.

"Everything's fine," he answered, aware of the tightness in his voice. He stole a quick glance at Gabrielle in an effort to reinforce the deception that he was still mooning over her, then dropped his gaze to the fire as he lowered the wood to the ground and stacked it more or less neatly. "Just had a little trouble finding dry wood. It's still damp in the forest."

A lie, one they could see through easily, but he couldn't make himself care. They were gracious enough not to point out that autumn had barely started and most of the area was still dry from the long, blazing summer, and the three of them fell into a companionable silence as they ate their dinner and unrolled their bedrolls. When the plates were cleaned and packed away Joxer turned gratefully to his makeshift bed, his back warmed by the fire as he pretended he was exhausted from the long day's journey. He didn't close his eyes, though; instead he let the low murmur of whispered conversation between the two women fade into the noises of the woods as he stared out into the darkness. The outline of the temple was barely discernable from the campsite, but he could see it as clearly as though it were broad daylight. Only his mind's eye added the solid, smiling figure of a dark-haired boy with eyes that held the kind of secrets only whispered in low voices in the dark of night. His arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned against the side of the temple, his smile broadening just a little as he watched a smaller, pale boy run through the clearing to stop in front of him.

Joxer snapped his eyes shut against the image, but they were still there behind his eyelids. He watched helplessly as strong arms encircled a slight body, pulling him forward gently for a kiss that Joxer could still feel against his lips. He felt his mouth move in response to the memory, his still-pale skin flushing in the darkness when he realized what he was doing. This was the reason he never thought about those six years, because even fifteen years later it all felt so real and it hurt so much more when he woke up to find that he was alone again. The memories were so strong in this place, though, almost like ghosts that had been waiting years for him to return. He let out a soft sigh and curled a little tighter into his bedroll, giving himself over to the memories that seemed to surround him at every turn. *Just for tonight,* he told himself. Just for tonight, he'd let himself remember the gentle touches, the whispered words of love and maybe just this once the aching longing when he woke wouldn't be so bad.

~

Joxer woke bathed in sweat, his heart pounding wildly in his chest and his arms moving frantically against the vice grip trying to hold him still. "Joxer…Joxer!" Louder now, and the voice wasn't the same…he blinked and looked up into the startlingly blue eyes of Xena, confusion marring his features for a moment before he looked around and remembered. The clearing set off in the stark light of morning didn't look nearly as familiar as it had the night before; the tree line was different, traces of a recent fire still showed in the charred remains of a few trees surrounded by fresh undergrowth. He turned wildly in the direction of the temple, noting for the first time since their arrival that it looked older too. Of course time had taken its toll as it always did, but last night everything had looked so…untouched. As though the clearing had been waiting for something - for him.

He shook his head as Xena released her hold on his arms, noting for the first time that Gabrielle knelt on his other side, her own face creased with worry as she ran a damp cloth over his forehead. For a moment he wondered if he had a fever, if he was delusional from some illness that had crept into his body during the night. As his breathing calmed and his heartbeat evened out a little he realized that it was just his imagination playing tricks on him, using the low light of evening and the memories of the clearing to convince him that it looked exactly the way it had fifteen years ago when he saw it last. "I'm sorry," he said, wincing at the rough quality of his voice. He eased out of Gabrielle's reach, ignoring the look of surprise that passed between his two friends. "I'm fine, I'm sorry if I worried you."

"Joxer, you were calling out in your sleep. You were thrashing around like someone was killing you, and you kept calling a name over and over."

His gaze swung back toward Xena's, eyes wide as she watched him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "I was?"

"You kept calling for someone named Timo."

It all flooded back to him at once, the force of the memories knocking the air out of his chest. For a moment all he could do was close his eyes and let the memories wash over him, pain clearly etched in his features as he replayed the dream. Another reason he didn't let himself remember, a wry voice at the back of his mind reminded him. He hadn't had the dream in years - well, technically it was a nightmare, but he'd never been one to split hairs - but his subconscious had brought it back to the fore last night with an excruciating eye for detail.

It always started the same; it was the most vivid dream he could ever remember having, full of scent and taste and touch as well as brightly colored images. Of course that might have been because it was more of a memory than a dream, at least in the beginning. It was the last time he saw Timo, a beautiful day in early autumn. They'd spread a blanket on the forest floor deep in the trees where no one would find them, not that they had to worry about anyone stumbling upon them accidentally. No one ever came to the clearing for anything other than to make an offering to Ares, and none of the warriors from the surrounding villages had any use for a thick patch of woods in a nearly deserted area. So there was no anxiousness or worry as Joxer let Timo lower him onto the blanket, losing himself in the feeling of strong hands moving across his skin as they slowly shed their clothes.

No matter how many times they were together it always felt new, but at the same time there was a familiarity about the way the other boy's hands moved on his body that made Joxer feel safe and so loved he had to force back tears. Timo never commented on the scars and bruises that appeared on Joxer's body from regular encounters with his father, but he acknowledged each one with a gentle kiss or the press of soft fingertips. It was enough to let Joxer know that he understood, and they didn't have to talk about it because when they were together nothing else mattered.

The dream memory of the last time they were together made him ache for that touch even now, with Xena and Gabrielle looking on in stunned concern. He could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks but he was powerless to stop them, his chest ached too much and the images in his mind were too real. That was when the dream shifted, when the impossible happened without warning. The world they'd spent six years building so carefully, making sure to shield from the suspicious eye of every other human being came crumbling down around them. One moment he was surrounded by warmth and love and waves of nearly unbearable pleasure, and a moment later it was torn away from him and he was left cold and exposed and staring into his father's angry scowl.

Timo was pulled away from him brutally, dragged off still struggling and calling Joxer's name as his father got closer and closer, laughing over the sound of Joxer calling the name he hadn't spoken out loud in fifteen years.

"Joxer, you've got to breathe." The voice was sharp but not unkind, and he opened his eyes again to find Xena shaking him. He didn't try to move away again as Gabrielle wiped at his tears, only vaguely aware of how embarrassed he should be at the fact that he was crying as helplessly as that day when he was ten years old and fled from Ares' temple.

He realized with a start that he wasn't breathing after all, and he filled his lungs too fast and choked on the pain in his chest. A strong but still feminine hand landed on his back and rubbed in slow circles, and he shook his head and tried unsuccessfully to say something, anything to make them believe he wasn't losing his mind. The trouble was that the dream was still too vivid; even with his eyes open he could see the look on Timo's face as he was dragged away, the sound of Joxer's father's laughter still in his ears.

Of course that wasn't how it actually happened. Their last time together had been as perfect and wonderful as it was at the beginning of the dream, only no one caught them and tore them apart. He wasn't left cold and screaming for his lover as his father and brother closed in on him; that was a trick of his treacherous imagination, a left-over fear manifested in a twisted rendition of actual events. No, the truth was much more subtle but ended in pretty much the same way, with Joxer separated forever from the one person that he'd ever loved and been loved by in return.

He wouldn't discover until later that they'd been caught together in the woods, wouldn't know until his father caught him sneaking home and dragged him behind the house that Jett had followed Joxer out of boredom or curiosity or just plain old malice. He wouldn't know until he was an adult and crossed paths with his brother Jace by accident that he'd been the subject of speculation for over a year before they found out what he snuck off to do every chance he got. All he learned as his father beat him until he finally passed out was that Jett had seen him doing things no man in his right mind had any business doing and gone right home to tell his father, to report that Joxer was an even bigger disappointment than they'd feared. His father did his level best to beat that particular demon out of Joxer, but when he woke by some miracle in an aching, bloody heap hours later it was still there. Even then his heart still longed for the one person who understood, who loved him and believed that even if he wasn't as strong as the others that he still had something to offer.

It was Jace that finally helped him into the house and up the ladder to their loft, sighing in a way that let Joxer know that while he understood, he thought less of Joxer for letting himself get caught. For three days he didn't move any more than absolutely necessary, and the only time his family didn't ignore his presence was when Jace forced him to drink some water or eat a crust of bread stolen while his mother wasn't looking. When he felt strong enough to stand up without passing out again he forced his legs to carry him down the ladder, crawling the last few steps out of the house into the night air. His family, if any of them woke long enough to notice his departure, would just think he was going out to relieve himself. So it was simple enough to slip away, stopping every few minutes to gather the strength just to keep going a little bit longer. It took him all night to make it to the clearing, and when he finally reached the cluster of trees he'd come to think of as theirs the sun was peeking over the horizon.

For the first time he could remember Timo wasn't there to greet him; there was no smile to make his heart swell and no understanding in dark eyes as strong arms lifted the weight that was his life off his shoulders for just a little while. He hadn't been expecting him to be there, of course; it was barely dawn, after all, and there was no reason for his friend to expect him to be there at that hour. Joxer swallowed an irrational surge of disappointment and dug into his pocket with trembling fingers, retrieving the scrap of parchment he'd begged Jace to steal for him. It was the last act of kindness his brother showed him, depositing the scrap of cheap parchment and a small vial of ink next to Joxer one morning when their parents were both out of the house. Joxer used a makeshift quill to scratch out a barely legible note, careful to let it dry before he tucked it deep in the folds of his tunic where his father wouldn't find it and finally kill him for that one last insult.

He looked down at it that morning in the stillness of the woods, brutally forcing back tears as he set it down near the base of the tree and set a small red stone on top of it. He thought about staying, taking the risk that his father wouldn't come looking for him in the very place where he'd committed that unbearable crime just for a chance to see Timo one more time. Maybe if he could just see him, they could find a way to make it better together…go away somewhere where no one could touch their world again. They could run to Sparta the way they'd talked about, or maybe just go to Timo's family for help. He forced himself back to his feet, dismissing all the vain, desperate hopes for what they were. Impossible, nice dreams but just not possible in the world he'd tried so hard to ignore for so long. That was the last time he'd seen this clearing, through blurred vision as he slowly made his way toward the road that would lead him as far away from home as he could get.

Slowly he pulled himself together, swallowing the grief and longing that threatened to break him when he let himself remember. It was a long time ago and it was over now, but he knew he was luckier than most. He'd had real, perfect love for a little while, the kind that the bards sang about and people longed for but almost never found. He'd lost it, but he still had the memories and even though he'd never love anyone again he had friends who cared about him and he did what he could to make the world a little better wherever he found the opportunity.

"Do you want to tell me who Timo is?" Xena asked gently as Gabrielle moved away to get Joxer some water.

"Just someone I haven't thought of in a long time," he answered. "I'm sorry I worried the two of you, Xena. I know it's not really any of my business, but don't let yourself get so caught up in your crusade that you let happiness pass you by. She needs you more than you realize." He glanced over at Gabrielle before returning his attention to a confused and slightly flushed Xena.

She cleared her throat and stood up abruptly as Gabrielle returned, looking anywhere but at her traveling companions as Gabrielle lifted the canteen to Joxer's lips and forced him to drink. He wasn't sure if he'd done either of them any good by saying what he did, but the memories this place brought back were strong enough to convince him that he couldn't let his friends miss out on a chance at the happiness he'd had once. Once they were convinced that he wasn't going to fall apart again Gabrielle moved away to make breakfast and Joxer closed his eyes again, part of him wishing they were closer to a decent-sized town so he could do this properly.

*Aphrodite, I'm sorry I don't have an offering to give you but I promise I'll make up for it the next time I'm near one of your temples. I don't know if you can help me, but I can't think of anyone else that might be able to. You must know that when I was fourteen I fell in love - his name was Timo and he lived near that old temple of War on the outskirts of Araxova. I just…I need to know if he's okay, if he's happy. I understand if you can't help me. Thank you, Aphrodite, for always being so nice to me and…everything.*

He blushed as his impromptu prayer trailed off awkwardly, part of him hoping the goddess that seemed so fond of him would be too busy to hear it. A final sigh escaped his lips as he forced himself to focus on rolling his bedroll, hoping Xena and Gabrielle would be anxious to get back on the road to Thebes soon.

~

"Oh, my poor Joxie," Aphrodite breathed as his prayer ended in a half-hearted wish that she wouldn't even hear it. "I always hear your prayers, silly boy."

"Mom? Everything okay?" Cupid asked from his seat across the room, one eyebrow raised quizzically as he listened to his mother mutter to herself.

"I'm not sure," the goddess answered, twisting a golden curl around her finger thoughtfully. "I just got the sweetest little prayer from Joxie, but it didn't make much sense. Have you ever heard about him being in love when he was a kid?"

Cupid shrugged noncommittally, his lips turning up in a grin as he watched his mother frown. "I don't keep tabs on the romances that don't need my help as a general rule. Besides, Joxer's your pet, not mine."

"True, but when he was younger I didn't really pay much attention to him. Not until that nitwit Gabrielle broke the poor sweet boy's heart."

"I'd hardly call that heartbreak," Cupid muttered under his breath, but Aphrodite was too lost in thought to hear him.

"He mentioned a boy named Timo - his first love, some kid from somewhere around Araxova. I can't think of anybody from around there with that name, can you?"

"No," Cupid answered after a moment of consideration. "I could see what I could find out if you want. Maybe Strife can help, if there's a chance to stir up trouble he'll be more than eager."

Aphrodite smiled knowingly at her son. "You mean if there's an excuse for you to spend time with Strife you're more than eager to help." She waved off his half-hearted protest, smiling indulgently at the young god. "Go on, you and Strife see if you can find out who this love of Joxie's life is. And don't mention it to anybody until we find something out. I don't want Xena's little shadow using this against him."

"Sure thing, Mom," Cupid said, grinning as he flashed out of Aphrodite's sitting room and into the Hall of War. He wasted no time transporting to Strife's room, greeting his cousin with a resounding kiss. It was quite some time before either of them got around to the real subject of Cupid's visit.

Unbeknownst to both of them, in the next hallway a more somber than usual God of War sank into the large chair in his bedchamber, the fingers of one hand closed around something as the other hand held a piece of parchment in front of him. He closed his eyes and recited the words written there in his mind, then opened his eyes and read them over again.

*I wish I could explain in person - I know I'm doing this all wrong, but I don't have any other choice. I can't see you again…please understand, it's not you. It's my father, he found out and I have to leave. I don't want you to worry, I'll be okay. I'll see you again, I know I will. I love you. So much. Joxer*

The corners of the parchment were worn from fifteen years of large, agile fingers worrying the edges of the note. He'd memorized the hastily written words years ago, but that never stopped him from pulling it out and looking at the shaky, barely legible handwriting whenever he found his mind wandering back to that time out of time in a little clearing a day's walk away from Thebes. It was rare that he let himself indulge in such sentimental behavior, but every once in awhile he just couldn't stop himself. No one knew, so it wasn't really hurting anyone to just remember for a little while. He sighed and forced himself to stand up, dropping the cheap, yellowed parchment into the drawer next to his bed. His other hand uncurled slowly, his gaze falling on the smooth red stone for a moment before he set it down on top of the note and closed the drawer.

Title: In This World of Strangers
Author/pseudonym: Caroline Crane
Fandom: X:WP
Paring: Ares/Joxer (also mention of Cupid/Strife, Xena/Gabrielle)
Rating: PG13
Status: new
Archive: sure, just let me know
E-mail address for feedback: caroline_crane@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: and we have...a series. Like nobody saw that coming. Part 2 of ? Depends on where the story takes me. This part follows A Thousand Miles. Other parts can be found on my web site.
Other websites: http://www.geocities.com/carolinecrane Disclaimers: People get paid to write stuff? I sure don't.

Notes: What is it with me? Someday I am going to write a stand-alone and leave it the hell alone already. But this is not that day. There will be more. And just for the record, I'm not always a lyrics kind of girl. In fact I kind of hate songfic. I couldn't help myself with this and the first part, though -- it's like attack of the pop music lyrics. I was defenseless against it.
Summary: Cupid and Strife do a little poking around, and Ares tells his side of the story.
Warnings: none this time

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wanted to be like you
I wanted everything
So I tried to be like you
And I got swept away
I didn’t know that it was so cold and
You needed someone to show you the way
So I took your hand and
We figured out that
When the tide comes I'll take you away
If you want to
I can save you
I can take you away from here
So lonely inside
So busy out there
And all you wanted was somebody who cares

-- "All You Wanted", Michelle Branch

A soft sigh punctuated the otherwise still night as Xena crouched next to the fire and watched her traveling companions sleep. Normally they would have made it to Thebes and gotten a room for the night, but after Joxer's panicked reaction to his nightmare their pace had been slower than usual. She was sure he realized that she was keeping an eye on him and that the slower pace was part of that, but she wasn't going to apologize for worrying. Regardless of the fact that he was a grown man and had taken care of himself - somehow, although she still wasn't sure exactly *how* he'd managed all this time on his own - for years before they met, she was responsible for him now and she didn't take that lightly.

Her gaze wandered over to the other figure sleeping in the low light of the fire, a familiar ache tugging at her heart at the sight of golden hair and smooth, pale skin. Ever since Joxer had voiced what she'd tried so hard to ignore she hadn't been able to think about much else. She would have been blind to miss the way Gabrielle looked at her sometimes, or the extra gruffness Xena put behind her own words in an effort to keep her friend at arm's length. It wasn't that she wanted to push Gabrielle away, but for her friend's safety she knew it was for the best. The bard was all Xena had, the only person in the world she could truly count on no matter the circumstances.

Maybe it was fear that kept her from acting on the undeniable bond they shared, but she'd always thought that she did a good job of concealing how much she really cared about her best friend. In fact, until Joxer woke from his nightmare and quietly informed her that she was throwing away something potentially amazing she'd just assumed that no one else knew. And that was another thing that didn't make any sense; wasn't Joxer supposed to have a crush on Gabrielle? So how did this man that seemed so naïve and simple see something that Xena had been so careful to keep hidden? Granted Joxer had been traveling with them more and more frequently in recent months, but she'd never really given much thought to the idea that he might be sensitive enough to pick up on what she wasn't saying. He'd always just seemed so innocent…child-like, really, and Xena had taken on the responsibility of keeping him out of trouble because in spite of his clumsiness she genuinely liked him.

The anguished screams that had woken both her and Gabrielle from sleep that morning made her wonder how well she really knew Joxer after all. In the past she'd always taken him at face value, humored his bravado as best she could and assumed that his overblown self-image was just part of what he considered his charm. The real pain in his voice as he'd called out that name, though…she couldn't ignore that any more than she could ignore the flash of wisdom in his eyes when he'd urged her to explore her feelings for Gabrielle. It was an expression she'd never seen on him before, and she couldn't help wondering how much private pain he kept hidden behind his happy-go-lucky façade.

A familiar, niggling pull at her senses distracted her from her thoughts, and her features darkened into a scowl as she straightened up and looked around at the darkness. "Show yourself, Ares," she hissed, careful not to wake her companions as she waited for War to appear.

"I hate it when she does that," a familiar voice said a moment before two figures materialized, and Xena's guard dropped marginally as she realized that it wasn't War she sensed, but Cupid and…Strife?

"What do you two want?"

Strife snorted his amusement from just behind Cupid as the Love god crossed his arms over his chest and sniffed indignantly. "It's nice to see you too, Sis."

"Don't call me that," Xena said, only allowing the faintest trace of exasperation to creep into her voice. She knew he'd never stop, if for no other reason than because it annoyed her. It was a familiar, albeit tiresome, game they played whenever their paths happened to cross. "Why are you here…and with Strife? Ares is too busy to do his own dirty work now?"

Both gods smirked at the disgust in her voice, the similarity of their expressions startling her in spite of her resolve not to let them get to her. It had been a long day and she wasn't in the mood to deal with what passed for fun in their minds, especially not if it came at her expense.

"Nah, Unc doesn't even know we're here," Strife said, although the expression on his face did nothing to convince Xena that she should believe him. "Just doing a little digging around for Aunt 'Dite."

"Aphrodite?" Before she could stop herself Xena's gaze flitted toward Gabrielle, but as soon as she caught sight of the other woman she remembered herself and shifted her attention back to the gods. "What does she want with us?"

"Not you," Cupid corrected her. "We're here to talk to Joxer."

A sudden flash of Joxer screaming and thrashing about in his sleep rocked Xena, and she paled as she glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping man. It couldn't be possible that his dreams had something to do with the house of Love, could it? When he'd woken them up that morning he'd sounded like he was being murdered, but if she really stopped to think about it she could vaguely remember traces of heartbreak in his anguished expression. "He's asleep," she said quietly, hoping he still was so her half-brother and cousin wouldn't get a chance to talk to him. She wasn't sure why, but she had a feeling their sudden appearance had something to do with Joxer's nightmare and she didn't want him to have to relive that any more than necessary.

"What, already?" Strife peered out from behind Cupid, frowning at the sleeping figure on the far side of the fire. "So let's wake him up."

Cupid's gaze shifted from Joxer to his cousin, an indulgent grin lighting up his features at the expression on Strife's face. Xena watched the two of them with interest and more than a little alarm, willing herself not to believe what she was seeing. She *really* didn't need to think about her half-brother…and with her cousin? They were gods and all but Cupid and Strife? It just didn't add up. "You're not waking anyone up," she hissed between clenched teeth. "What do you want with Joxer, anyway?"

"Sorry, Sis," Cupid said, blinking and turning abruptly away from Strife. "Mom says it's top secret, can't tell you. Tell you what, if it means that much to you we'll come back when he's awake. I don't know how you mortals stand it, having to trudge around all over the place all day." Twin shudders rolled through both gods at the thought, and a moment later the spot where Strife had been standing was empty.

Xena gazed expectantly at the remaining god, hands on her hips as she waited for him to finish his thought and follow his cousin. For a long moment he stood gazing back at her, head tilted slightly and red lips parted as though he were trying to puzzle something out. "What?"

Cupid smirked and glanced over at Gabrielle before turning back to Xena. "If you'd just learn to lighten up you'd be so much happier," he said, ignoring her menacing growl. "Hey, what kind of God of Love would I be if I didn't at least try to get my own sister to stop taking everything so seriously? Watch out for Joxer, we'll be back."

She opened her mouth to remind him that she didn't need to be told to look after her own friends, but before she got the words out the clearing was empty again. The niggling pull that alerted her to the presence of one of her family members was gone as well, and she sighed as she sank heavily onto her bedroll and fixed her gaze on the fire again. So Aphrodite was interested in Joxer for some reason - that just meant that she'd have to be even more diligent about protecting him. She wasn't about to let any of her scatter-brained immortal relatives use Joxer for their own amusement, not as long as she could help it.

~

"So stubborn, just like her father."

"Who?"

A knowing smirk lit up Aphrodite's features as she glanced over her shoulder at her brother. "Xena, of course."

Ares rolled his eyes to cover the irritating surge of pride that always accompanied any mention of his daughter. "What business do you have with Xena?" Surely his daughter wouldn't have any use for the house of Love, not when she was busy doing everything in her power to ruin all Ares' plans. He couldn't really blame her, she was mortal after all. Besides, she thought she was doing the right thing. So she was a little misguided; he couldn't expect her to understand the intricacies of protecting an entire world from their human foibles. And if anything she was just an amusing distraction; nothing she did ever really interfered with his plans, and she was nothing if not loyal to those she cared about. He wouldn't have steered Joxer into her care if he didn't trust her implicitly where her friends were concerned.

"I don't," Aphrodite answered, oblivious to her brother's brooding. She was used to it, after all; Ares was almost always brooding about *something*, it came with the job description. "She just happened to be there when I sent Cupie to do a little errand for me. He keeps hinting around that maybe she'd be happier if she admitted how she felt about her little blonde friend, but she's too stubborn to see the truth."

As soon as it dawned on him who Aphrodite meant by 'her little blonde friend' he groaned and shut his eyes against the disturbing image. The idea that any of his offspring could have such…annoying taste was nothing short of horrifying. Cupid had fallen head over heels for Strife, true, but Strife was house of War and Ares couldn't fault his son for being drawn to that kind of darkness. So his nephew was a little crazy, that was nothing compared to the never-ending babble that came out of that insipid bard's mouth. He shook his head and shifted his focus back to the original purpose of his presence in Aphrodite's halls, namely finding out where exactly his dark nephew had wandered off to this time.

He opened his mouth to ask if Strife had disappeared with Cupid again when the two young gods appeared in front of him. "Hey, Unc," Strife said, ignoring the glare Ares directed at him. "I was just gonna go looking for ya. Maybe you can help us out, we're coming up empty."

"Help you with what?" Ares demanded, doing his best to disguise his curiosity under a mask of indignation. He'd never admit it but he always found Love's day-to-day work fascinating; the idea of uniting people that truly belonged together appealed to him for sentimental reasons that he didn't like to think too hard about. War and destruction was rewarding in its own right, and he was well aware of how important his role in the Pantheon was. Still, he couldn't quite blame Strife for tagging along with Cupid when he had the chance. Love and Mischief went hand in hand, ironically enough. "By all means, enlighten me as to what's so fascinating that you've been shirking your duties again."

Strife just grinned maniacally, ignoring the attempt at a threat. He was practically bouncing on his heels with pent-up energy, and Ares knew he wasn't going to get a reaction out of his nephew when he was in one of his moods. "Ya got that old temple near Araxova, the one hardly anybody ever uses anymore. Ya ever have a foundling working for any of your priests there? A kid named Timo. We've been looking everywhere for him but no luck."

For a moment the universe stood still, and Ares was positive he was the only living being left in existence. He could still see the scene in front of him, three pairs of eyes staring expectantly at him as they waited for an answer. He couldn't hear anything but the sound of a fifteen-year-old fear pounding against his ears, however, and he knew his expression must be thunderous if his sister's reaction was any indication. That name, though…and the temple…there could only be one reason…and Aphrodite had always been so fond of him, even though she didn’t know why. She had no idea that her own brother had manipulated her into looking out for him in the hope that he'd move on and find a little happiness as an adult. It was the only thing he could give Joxer, so he'd done what he could. Only it didn't work, obviously, because now his whole family was betraying him without even realizing it.

"Ares?" The hand on his arm was soft and feminine, familiar in a comforting way and he blinked and looked down at his sister. "Ares, what is it?"

"It's not Strife's fault. I asked him to help me," Cupid interjected, stepping in front of his cousin in a protective stance that under normal circumstances would have forced Ares to swallow a proud smile.

"Why are you looking for him?" he asked, shaking off his sister's hand as gently as possible and taking a few steps toward his son.

Cupid blinked and glanced over at his mother, scowling when she just shrugged helplessly. Finally he turned back to his father and braced himself for whatever War decided to throw at him. "You know how Mom likes to look out for Joxer. You know, that guy that's always following Xena around?" He waited while Ares nodded his understanding, then took a deep breath and continued. "Yeah. So he asked Mom to help him out, said this kid Timo was a friend of his. His first love. He just wanted to make sure he was happy or whatever, that he'd gotten on with his life, I guess."

"Yeah, Unc, me and Cupe were just looking for him as a favor for Aunt 'Dite," Strife added, daring to peer out from around his cousin. "But we can't find a trace of the kid anywhere. Figured since ya got a temple right there maybe you or one of yer priests would know something. We weren't gonna do anything to him, I swear."

Ares shook his head, letting his dark hair fall over his forehead to shield the pain he was sure he couldn't keep out of his eyes. He didn't fall apart like this, not even in front of the few beings in creation that knew him well enough to see past the public image he presented. He wasn't going to react to the fact that Joxer was asking after a ghost after all these years, not even if it was his own fault for allowing Aphrodite to take notice of the sweet, gentle man Joxer had grown into. Once he'd swallowed his emotion he cleared his throat and looked up again, fixing his gaze directly on his son. "He's dead."

It wasn't a lie; not really, anyway. The boy that Joxer had fallen in love with was a ghost, in a sense. He was long gone, at any rate, and that was all they needed to know. The mere thought of the pain it would cause Joxer to hear that threatened to drain him of all his strength, but he managed to hold his ground somehow as he waited for them to challenge him.

"Dead? When? How?" Strife asked. Ever the pragmatic one, Ares reminded himself ruefully, his mouth twisting into a menacing smile at the thought. His nephew might be a little mad and a lot over-enthusiastic when it came to certain things, but he was all business when it came to the details of his job. He liked to know the how and why of things, whereas Cupid and Aphrodite were more concerned with the end result.

"Oh, my poor Joxie," his sister murmured from a few feet away, and Ares forced himself not to turn and see the pained expression she was no doubt wearing. He couldn't afford to look at her, not if he wanted to get through this without giving himself away.

"It's hardly worth shedding tears over an orphaned waif," Ares growled, his tone brooking no argument from his family. "The boy used to hang about my temple, doing odd jobs for the old priest there in exchange for the occasional meal. I never took much notice of him, only long enough to give my priest permission to feed the brat. He was robbed and murdered before his eighteenth birthday. My priest sent him on an errand to a neighboring village and some thieves stopped him before he got to town. I made sure they understood the folly of robbing from one of War's servants," he added as an afterthought. It wasn't a bad story considering he'd come up with it off the top of his head, and from the somber hush that had fallen over the room he could tell his family had bought it. A rough laugh escaped his throat as he glanced around at them, his heart breaking all over again at their expressions. "Why in Hades does any of you care about the miserable little wretch?"

"How am I going to tell Joxie?" Aphrodite whispered, ignoring Ares' last words as she turned a mournful gaze to her son and nephew. "This is going to break his little heart."

"Why should he care? Didn't you say he hadn't seen the boy since he was a child?"

Aphrodite sighed dramatically and fixed her brother with a stern glare. "Honestly, Ares, that's cold even for you. If you knew Joxer the way I do you'd understand. He's sensitive, and he only wanted to know that his little friend was happy. I can't tell him that the boy was brutally murdered, it would kill him."

Ares rolled his eyes at her penchant for drama, schooling his features into an impatient scowl. "Seems like a lot of wasted emotion over a mortal," he muttered. With one final glare at his son and nephew, he added something about spending his time doing something useful like instigating war and flashed out of the room. He was too busy focusing on not giving himself away to notice the guarded, pensive look in his normally jovial nephew's eyes.

~

Hours later, covered in blood and bits of gore, Ares flashed back into his private chambers and let out a heavy sigh. Not even the stench of death or the rush of hand to hand combat had been able to chase the nagging worry out of his system. Joxer was asking about him - no, Joxer was asking after a ghost, someone who didn't exist anymore - and even though Ares had hoped that this day would never come he couldn't deny the small thrill that came along with the knowledge that Joxer hadn't forgotten.

He'd known when it started that it would end one day, and he'd known that it would necessarily end more or less exactly the way it had. So it shouldn't bother him; shouldn't keep him awake at night wondering and drive him to antagonize his daughter just so he could catch a glimpse of that gentle smile. He was War, by the gods, and he should be able to forget a little dalliance with a mortal and move on to his next conquest. The trouble was that it was a six-year dalliance, and the first four years of it had been spent watching a child struggling to grow into a remarkable, insightful young man in the face of the most crippling odds. Somehow a whim that struck him on a particularly dull day had turned into a twenty-one year obsession, and no matter how many battles he immersed himself in it would never be enough to chase away the memory of that sweet smile or the heart that was handed over to him without hesitation.

If he outlived the whole of existence Ares knew he'd never have a dearer memory than the whisper of a much-loved voice saying five words that sealed their fates forever: *Of course. I love you.* Just like that Joxer had handed over his heart, and seventeen years later Ares still held it in hands that could so easily crush it with the truth.

He knew he could do something about it. He could go to Joxer, tell him the truth, and claim the man for his own whether Joxer liked it or not. As a god he had the right, and woe to any mortal that had the audacity to refuse him. He was War, he could do what he liked and things like consequences meant nothing to him. So he could have Joxer again any time he wanted, all he had to do was reach out and…take.

As loathe as he was to admit it even to himself, though, he couldn't do it. He couldn't just take without asking, not when he'd been given such a tremendous gift of trust from someone he loved. He still loved Joxer, as much as he'd tried to convince himself that he was long past such a useless sentiment. It was still there, eating away at the core of what made him not just War, the invincible, terrifying god of destruction, but Ares. So few people knew the real Ares, the one that scrutinized over every battle plan to make sure he was destroying only where it would advance civilization. Even those closest to him rarely caught a glimpse of the Ares that was the devoted servant of the people of Greece, even as they worshipped him as their protector. Mortals didn't seem to understand that the gods needed them as much as they needed the gods, but that was just as well.

So Ares had had this one thing that was all his own - not War, not Ares, son of Zeus and heir to the Pantheon, but Ares, the man within the god - and he'd held onto it for as long as he could. He'd never told anyone about his devotion to Joxer, no matter how tempting it had been on the nights when he'd had just a little too much to drink and he found himself steeped in the memories. He'd go out and fuck some nameless, faceless mortal, or he'd go start a skirmish somewhere where trouble was already brewing and come home exhausted and covered in blood. Usually that was enough to chase away the temptation to confess his private pain to someone he knew he could trust, but this time not even hours of carnage had done the trick.

All because of an innocent, selfless prayer that escaped Joxer's lips and perked his sister's interest. And Ares only had himself to blame, because if he hadn't nudged Joxer into Aphrodite's normally fickle heart none of this would be happening. He couldn't bring himself to regret trying to bring Joxer a little bit of happiness, though. That was all he'd been doing when he attracted Love's attention with the sweet, open heart of the man he would always love. It was no different than sending Joxer to Xena so she'd look after him, only because if someone didn't watch out for him Joxer would have gotten himself killed long ago.

As soon as he'd run away from home he'd gone right back to the fantasy of being one of Ares' warriors, and sometimes as he watched from the privacy of the Hall of War Ares was sure that Joxer was trying to get himself killed. He was just a little *too* careless, just a touch too clumsy for Ares to believe that it was completely unintentional. Besides, Ares knew Joxer so intimately that he was well acquainted with the quiet grace the other man was capable of, so his hapless and often life-threatening habit of rushing in where gods themselves feared to tread was alarming at best.

The fact that Xena was a former warlord as well as his daughter gave Ares a perfect excuse to drop in on Joxer whenever he couldn't stand it anymore, and although he was careful to ignore the man as much as possible it made him feel better just to be in Joxer's company for a few moments. He always spent the next few days fighting the urge to just go to Joxer and tell him the truth, then beg him to understand why he'd done it, but he always managed to stop himself in time. It wouldn't do him any good anyway; Joxer would never forgive Ares if he knew the truth and he'd rather have Joxer think his Timo was dead than to know Ares was alive and hate him for it. He could live with his own daughter's disdain, but he knew he couldn't go on if Joxer despised him.

It had all started out so innocently that by the time he realized he might be in too deep it was too late to stop it. The whole thing happened by chance; he hardly ever bothered to visit that ill-used temple in the middle of nowhere, and he wouldn't have been there that day either if his priest hadn't called for his guidance. He held council with the old man for a few moments, and he was about to leave when he sensed someone approaching the temple. He shielded himself from view out of curiosity, wondering which of his less-than-loyal followers was bothering with an offering that day. When he saw the little boy and the way the old priest chased him away curiosity drove him out into the clearing, he wasn't sure why even then but suddenly he wanted to know why such a small child would offer his service to War.

Sensing that the presence of the actual god would terrify the poor kid beyond repair, he affected a glamour that made him appear about the same age as the boy. His intention had only been to find out what the boy was doing in the temple in the first place, but something about the bravery the kid tried to show in spite of his obvious fear touched Ares. Before he knew it they were playing in the woods behind the temple, and for the first time in ages Ares was actually able to relax and let go of all his private worries for awhile. He began keeping an eye on Joxer, appearing in the woods the next time he saw the boy outside the temple. Before long it became a habit, and as he noticed bruises or welts on Joxer's face and arms he started to piece together the truth about the boy's life.

Feeding him seemed like such a small thing, but it was so appreciated by the boy that Ares couldn't help but delight in the simple act of watching him eat. Despite the fact that the boy was so young and even smaller than his age dictated he possessed a strength of character that fascinated Ares; it was something he saw so rarely in mortals or gods that he found himself craving any opportunity to study the boy as he grew. It certainly hadn't been his intention to fall in love, and even on that fateful day when Joxer kissed him clumsily Ares wasn't sure if he should encourage those kinds of feelings. Faced with the prospect of losing the trust he'd come to crave, though, it had seemed like the only alternative. As far as Joxer was concerned they were learning together, just two boys who somehow found each other in world full of unkindness, full of strangers that would hurt them if given half a chance.

He knew Joxer's own family hurt him worse than any stranger could, and he wanted to give the boy a place where he could feel safe and even loved. Especially loved, because there was no denying that Ares had loved him for as long as he'd known him. He'd loved the boy that somehow found a way to forget the misery of his life long enough to find joy with his only friend, then later he'd loved the guileless young man that offered himself so completely to the one person in the world he could trust.

Ares didn't deserve that trust. He knew even then that he didn't deserve it, even though he'd tried lying to himself and telling himself that he was just doing what he could to give Joxer a little joy. In the end his love had turned out to be selfish after all, because it wasn’t enough to keep Joxer safe. It wasn't enough to protect him from his father, to keep him safe from the evils of the world. In the end Joxer had left him just like Ares always knew he'd have to, but he'd left with the memory of being loved completely by someone who lived and breathed only for him.

And it was true, because Timo was born the day he first smiled at the pale, shivering boy and he died the day Joxer walked away. Ares kept watch over him as he made his way in the world, even spoke to him from time to time disguised as this person or that person. He made sure that Joxer never got too close, though; that he never looked too closely at dark eyes that held endless secrets and a love so overwhelming that sometimes the god of War himself found it hard to breathe. He hadn't been able to protect Joxer from everything, but he'd kept him alive in spite of Joxer's apparent efforts otherwise. He'd steered him toward Xena and gifted him with the protection of Aphrodite herself, hoping that surrounding Joxer with the people he trusted most in the world would bring him a little happiness.

He'd braced himself for the day Joxer would fall in love again; it was inevitable, after all, and when he began making the first awkward overtures toward Gabrielle Ares thought the day had finally come. It didn't take long for Joxer to give up on that half-hearted venture, though, and now Ares' worst fear and dearest wish had been realized. Joxer had asked Aphrodite to find him, and even though he knew it could never be a part of Ares couldn't help hoping that somehow, some way Joxer would find his way back to him again. He'd said in the note that he knew he'd see Timo again someday, but did it really count when Joxer didn't know it was him? A weary sigh escaped his throat as he flashed away the blood still clinging to his clothes and settled heavily in his chair, staring at the drawer where he kept a yellowed parchment full of promises made fifteen years ago by a boy that loved him more than Ares had ever deserved.

He'd promised that he'd be okay, and Ares had made sure of it. He'd promised to love Ares, and that he'd done with a force that still took Ares' breath away. And he'd promised that they'd see each other again…well, Ares had made that come true as well, even if Joxer could never know. And he couldn't ever know, because if he did it would destroy the only thing that had ever given Joxer a moment of joy. If he knew who his Timo really was it would destroy all those memories, and no matter how much Ares wished things were different he knew he couldn't take that away from Joxer. He couldn't rob him of the memories Ares had stolen from a child, even if it meant breaking his heart one more time by letting him believe that his first love was lost forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: No Such Thing as the Real World
Author/pseudonym: Caroline Crane
Fandom: X:WP
Paring: Ares/Joxer (also mention of Cupid/Strife, Xena/Gabrielle)
Rating: R (it probably doesn't even merit an R rating, but I'm erring on the side of caution)
Status: new
Archive: sure, just let me know
E-mail address for feedback: caroline_crane@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: Part 3 of however many Joxer demands. This part follows In This World of Strangers. Other parts can be found on my web site.
Other websites: http://desiderium.slashcity.net/
Disclaimers: People get paid to write stuff? I sure don't.

Notes: Sorry about the wait on this one. Tommy Dawkins has taken over my brain and my will to live. Little bastard won't give either of them back. I scribbled this down while he was sleeping, this part is lighter and shorter than the first two parts. Yay transition.
Summary: Strife's suspicious, Dite's suspicious, and Joxer reacts badly to the news of Timo's death. Warnings: nope

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cupid shifted against the body pinned underneath his, capturing a pale earlobe and worrying it between his teeth. When he didn't hear a familiar giggle or even a throaty moan for his efforts he pulled back, frowning at Strife's contemplative expression. "This works much better when everyone participates," he murmured, dipping his head to nuzzle at Strife's neck.

Slender fingers came up to thread through his hair absently, and the touch almost convinced Cupid that he'd accomplished his goal of getting them back on track. A moment later he let out a frustrated growl and pulled back, glaring down at the other man. "This isn't exactly convincing me of my irresistibility."

"Sorry, Cupe," Strife said, his normally mischievous expression replaced with genuine regret. He turned as Cupid slid off him, wrapping an arm around the blonde's waist and stroking absently at the edge of his wing. "I was just thinking about Unc."

"*So* not helping," Cupid said.

"No, I mean I was thinking about earlier, when he was talking 'bout Joxer's ex. Remember when he said that Joxer shouldn't still be hung up on the guy 'cause he hadn't seen him since he was a kid?"

Cupid pushed himself up on one elbow, his forehead furrowed as he tried to comprehend why Strife had chosen this particular moment to start worrying about some dead mortal. "So?"

"So nobody ever told him that," Strife said. "All I said was the guy was Joxer's first love, not that he hadn't seen the guy since he was a kid. So how'd he know?"

"I don't know, maybe he just assumed," Cupid said, his hand wandering over Strife's stomach in what he assumed was a vain attempt to distract him from thinking about Joxer’s problems. "It's a pretty safe assumption. I mean it is the truth."

"Yeah, maybe," Strife said, but it was obvious from his far-away expression that he wasn't entirely convinced. Cupid sighed and pulled away from the smaller god, deciding that he was going to have to take matters into his own hands if he was going to get anywhere tonight. He pushed himself up on his knees and swung one leg over Strife, straddling his hips and leaning forward to brace his hands on either side of Strife’s face.

“Look, it’s Mom’s project, right? Joxer’s her pet, so why don’t we let her worry about it?” He smiled as innocently as he could when he was completely naked and turned on. He had a feeling that Strife’s distraction should have irritated him enough by now to drive him to get out of bed to find someplace to pout, but oddly enough the challenge turned him on even more. Usually all he had to do was glance in Strife’s direction and it counted as foreplay, so actually having to seduce his lover for once was almost a welcome change of pace.

At least it would have been if he thought he had a chance of wrestling Strife’s attention away from Joxer’s broken heart for more than five seconds at a time. He was just getting started, though, and lucky for him he knew exactly how to get Strife’s attention. He was Love, after all. He smiled to himself as he leaned forward, nuzzling the soft skin beneath Strife’s ear again before he nipped playfully at his earlobe. As expected, Strife's fingers tightened in his hair and the body underneath his jerked against him. A deep chuckle escaped Cupid's throat as he released Strife's earlobe and found his mouth again.

*Much better,* he thought to himself as Strife's hands left his hair to stroke his wings. He pulled back and grinned, grinding their hips together as he blue eyes blinked open to gaze up at him. "Mmm, Cupe," Strife murmured, soft lips brushing Cupid's jaw before Strife pulled back. "She did ask for yer help, though."

"You've gotta be kidding," Cupid grumbled, slumping onto Strife's chest and letting out a labored sigh. "Can we *please* talk about this tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure," Strife said, his hands moving from Cupid's shoulders to his hips. "Only she asked us ta help her find this kid, and I swear Unc knows something he's not sayin'."

"Fine, we'll go talk to the priest tomorrow. I promise." Cupid lifted his head and flashed a hopeful smile at Strife. "Okay?"

"Okay," Strife said, wiggling suggestively under the muscular body pinning him to the mattress. "Sorry 'bout that, it's just the look on Unc's face when…"

"Strife?" Cupid interrupted, pressing a finger to the younger god's lips.

"Yeah, Cupe?"

"Shut up." Strife grinned his understanding and promptly sucked Cupid's index finger into his mouth, wisely choosing to drop the subject.

~

It had been an entire day since Ares announced that Joxer’s first love was dead, and Aphrodite hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything except how to break the news to him. She hadn’t visited any of her temples all day, and she’d barely paid attention to the prayers from various mortals. As a result she couldn’t remember anymore whether she’d answered a prayer about a girl in Thebes who was in love with a dragon or a dragonslayer in Crete who was in love with his best friend. She frowned in concentration until she remembered how bad wrinkles looked on her, then she shrugged and let out a sigh. It didn’t matter anyway, as long as someone was in love with someone she’d done what she could do. Besides, Joxer was going to show up in her temple any minute and she still hadn’t settled on the best way to tell him what she’d found out.

She felt a shift in the air a moment before Ares appeared in her temple in a puff of dark sparks, interrupting her brooding and bringing her frown back to the surface. “Whatever it is, I don’t have time, bro. I’ve got about ten minutes before Joxie shows up at my temple, and I have to figure out a way to break the news to him that you couldn’t keep his true love safe.”

“And when exactly did this become my fault?” Ares ground out through clenched teeth. If Aphrodite bothered to look at him she would have seen that he wasn’t in the mood to be baited, but she was too busy worrying about Joxer to even wonder what he wanted.

“He worked for you, didn’t he?”

“Who?”

Aphrodite rolled her eyes and tossed her thick curls over one shoulder. “Timo, that’s who. Joxie’s first love, the guy that got killed on your watch? Ring any bells?”

Ares crossed his arms over his leather-clad chest and squared his shoulders, glaring at his sister as she continued to ignore him in favor of worrying about Joxer. “I don’t understand why you’re so concerned with the broken heart of some mortal,” he snapped, stopping just short of stomping his foot for emphasis.

“Duh, it’s my job,” Aphrodite reminded him, finally pausing long enough to take a good look at her brother. “Did you take a blow to the head or something? You’re acting a little spacey today.”

“I’m fine, which is more than I can say for the rest of this family,” he muttered, flinching away from her attempt to feel his forehead for signs of some mysterious ailment. “Even Strife is love-obsessed lately. It’s bad for business.”

“It *is* business,” Aphrodite reminded him. “At least for some of us. Now stop glowering and help me think of the best way to tell Joxie the truth. You know them both, how do you think I should do it?”

“Just spit it out,” Ares growled, shifting his weight and not quite meeting his sister’s eyes as he spoke. She watched him carefully, forgetting Joxer’s broken heart for a moment as she wondered what was up with Ares. She could tell he was doing his best to look irritated, but she was one of the few people who knew him well enough to recognize when he was uncomfortable. “It’s not like the news is going to kill him. He asked you for the truth, so tell him the truth and get on with it. Maybe then I can have Mischief back at work where he belongs.”

She wisely chose not to point out that Ares could get along just fine without Strife, partly because she didn’t want to antagonize him when he was acting so strange and partly because she was afraid if Ares agreed with her she’d end up saddled with Strife. She shuddered at the thought of her nephew hanging around stirring up mischief every day, doing her best to push the thought out of her mind and focus on the problem at hand. “Joxie’s a lot more sensitive than you think, bro. He’s going to take this badly, mark my words. I’m just not sure if it’s safer to tell him and then watch him to make sure he doesn’t do anything foolish, or if I should bring him up here where he can't get away.”

“Why in Zeus’ name would you bring him here?” Ares asked, something dark flashing in his eyes for a split second before he caught himself and reined in the emotion. It wasn’t fast enough to get it past his sister, though, and she pursed her lips thoughtfully as she watched Ares pretend to be fascinated with the statue in the corner. “Just tell him the truth and let him get on with his life. He’ll be fine,” Ares added in a carefully neutral voice.

“Huh.”

“What?”

Aphrodite swallowed a smirk at her brother’s defensive tone and pasted a sunny smile on her face. “Nothing. It’s just that I didn’t even think you knew who Joxer was, but you seem so sure that he’ll be fine with the love of his life kicking the bucket.”

“Mortals die all the time, ‘Dite,” Ares reminded her, rolling his eyes as though the question of Joxer’s heartache was irrelevant.

“Some people never get over losing their first love, you know,” she said, ignoring the dark look he shot in her direction. “I mean it’s obvious that Joxie’s been pining away all these years, and now that all hope is lost who knows what he’ll do. He’s not exactly the most careful guy around.”

If she didn’t know better she would have sworn Ares bit his lip to stop himself from whatever he’d been about to say, but she knew better than to just ask what was on his mind. For one thing he wouldn’t tell her, and for another he might just get angry and flash back to his temple to brood in peace. There was definitely something going on with him, though, and if she played her cards right she was sure she could find out what it was.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Ares answered vaguely. He frowned and his eyes took on a far-off cast for a moment, then he blinked and Aphrodite was left wondering if she was imagining things. “When you see our worthless nephew skulking around tell him to get back to work.” With that he flashed back out of the temple, leaving the goddess of love to wonder just what exactly was bothering her brother. Whatever it was, she was sure it didn’t have anything to do with Strife’s recent distraction. In fact if she didn’t know better…but that had to be some kind of residual energy left over from an earlier prayer. She couldn’t really have sensed heartbreak from War himself; as far as she knew Ares had never been in love. And if anyone would know about War losing his heart to one of his consorts, it would be her.

She barely had time to wonder when Joxer’s voice invaded her thoughts, and she pressed her hand to her heart at the shy, almost nervous way he began his prayer. “Here goes nothing,” she murmured, flashing down to her temple.
Less than a second later she was standing in front of Joxer, smiling as cheerfully as possible considering she was about to break his heart. “Joxie, it’s so good to see you. How are things going with Blondie? Sure you don’t want me to shoot her for you?”

He smiled gently and shook his head the same way he always did when she offered to shoot someone and hand them over to him. “Thanks, Aphrodite, but no. Gabrielle’s heart already belongs to somebody else. Besides, that’s not really the way love should work. Not that I’m trying to tell you how to do your job.”

She smirked at his horrified expression, waving her hand to dismiss the slip. “In a way you’re right, just between you and me. Some people just need a little shove, you know? But I didn’t know you knew about Blondie and Xena.”

“It’s hard to spend as much time with them as I do and not notice the way they look at each other,” he said, smiling so affectionately that Aphrodite couldn’t help smiling back. As soon as his smile surfaced it faded, though, and Aphrodite braced herself for the question she’d been dreading since Ares told her Timo was dead. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful, Aphrodite, but have you found out anything about the boy I asked you about?”

“You’re sure you don’t want me to shoot someone for you? It doesn’t have to be Blondie. It could be anyone…that nice man that’s always hanging around Herc maybe. He’s pretty easy on the eyes.” Her heart leapt at the small flicker of interest she saw in his eyes, but he shook his head and let out a regretful little sigh.

“I’m not looking for love, really,” he said, smiling a little at her perplexed expression. “I just want to know that Timo’s okay, that he moved on with his life. When I left…well, it’s a long story but things didn’t end the way I wanted them to. I mean I didn’t want it to end at all, but my father…anyway I just want to know that he’s safe. I mean happy.”

Aphrodite frowned, once again forgetting to worry about how all those tiny little lines ruined her otherwise perfect features. She’s spent most of the day feeling like she was missing something, and even though Joxer looked completely sincere she couldn’t help wondering what he wasn’t telling her. “Why don’t you tell me the whole story, Joxie? Maybe that will help me.”

“So you haven’t found him?” Joxer asked, his face falling.

She bit her lip and twisted one golden curl around her finger, carefully avoiding eye contact while she tried to think of a way to get around a direct answer. “See, the thing is, this all happened a really long time ago.”

“Fifteen years.”

“Right,” she said, her heart falling at his resigned tone. He sounded as though he’d counted every single day since the last time they saw each other, and she couldn’t help wondering how a deep love like that had escaped her attention. Granted she didn’t concern herself too much with the first loves of teenagers, no matter how sweet they were. Most of them turned out to be passing infatuation at best, and they usually ended before they really got interesting. If Joxer’s feelings had survived this long she should have felt something from him back then. “And you say this boy grew up near Araxova?”

"In a village over the hill. I never visited him at home, we always met in the woods behind the temple. You know the one, War's temple on the outskirts of town. If you haven't found anything it's okay…"

"It's not that," she interrupted, although the second his eyes lit up she wished she'd kept her mouth shut. It would have been so easy to let him believe she just hadn't been able to find Timo, but eventually even someone as trusting as Joxer would wonder why a goddess couldn't find one little mortal. "The thing is, he used to serve Ares in that temple you mentioned."

"So he became a warrior?" Joxer's eyes sparkled with anticipation, breaking her heart just a little more. "Is he one of Ares' warlords now?"

"Not exactly." She took a deep breath and reached out, resting her hand on his arm and leading him further into the temple. "Evidently he was an orphan and one of Ares' priests took pity on him. Let him help out around the temple, run errands, that kind of thing. He was headed to town one day when he was robbed. According to Ares the thieves killed the poor guy. But Ares hunted them down and made sure they knew the consequences of messing with someone under War's protection. You know Ares, always has to put on a big show about not messing with his territory."

She broke off her rambling monologue when she realized he wasn't listening anymore, glancing at his profile in time to see his mouth hanging open and his gaze fixed on the wall in front of him. "Joxie? Hon? It's not the end of the world, I mean he had a good life for awhile, right? He had you, that's pretty lucky."

He nodded mutely but she could tell he hadn't heard what she said. As far as she could tell he was miles away, focused on some memory she couldn't see. The urge to reach out and see for herself what he was seeing was overwhelming, and she bit her lip and hesitated for a second before she let herself reach into his thoughts. The heartache was so potent that she took a step backwards, her chest clenching painfully as she watched Joxer remembering the last words his father ever said to him. She knew how cruel mortals were to each other, but the idea that Joxer's father could hate him so much was horrifying. Joxer was the sweetest, kindest person she'd ever met; the whole reason she took such an interest in him was because he seemed so innocent. The fact that he'd lived through that kind of torture and still managed to remain as optimistic as he was…she pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp and reached out to touch him again, but he yanked his arm away and glanced over at her.

"I…thank you, Aphrodite. I…I have to go…Xena's waiting," he stammered, moving backwards as he spoke.

"Joxie, wait," she called after him, worrying her lip between her teeth as she wondered whether or not to use her powers to force him to stay.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice muted by the stone walls of the temple. A second later he was gone, and her heart sank as she stared at the spot where he'd just been standing. He definitely wasn't fine; far from it, she was positive by the look in his eyes just before she'd invaded his thoughts. She had no idea what that memory meant or why that was the first thing he'd thought of when he heard the news, but she had a feeling it wasn't a good sign.

~

As soon as Joxer was out of Aphrodite's sight he stopped, clutching at the stone wall of the temple as he doubled over and squeezed his eyes shut. His stomach and chest were twisted into tight knots, and he was having trouble getting enough air into his lungs. He couldn't see or feel anything past the blinding pain in his chest, but he needed to get away from the well-meaning but clueless goddess. He appreciated everything she'd ever done for him, but even Love couldn't understand what the news of Timo's death meant. How soon after he left did Timo die? Was it a day, a week…maybe he had a month of living with the knowledge that Joxer ran out on him before he was murdered.

No one could understand how he felt, not Aphrodite or Gabrielle or even Xena. This was his fault, his fault for not being brave enough to stand up to his father. At least if he'd stayed and faced his father's wrath they would have died together, and he wouldn't be dying of a broken heart against the wall of one of Love's temples.

How many years had he been going through the motions of life without really living? He tried to do good, he tried to help out wherever he could. At least he had since he met Xena; meeting her and Gabrielle and hearing about their mission gave him a purpose for the first time in his life, and he finally gave up the dream of becoming one of War's warriors. It was hard to let go of the dream he'd had since childhood, almost as hard as walking away from the only person that had ever loved him. Finding good friends like Xena and Gabby had made life seem almost worth living again, and that was something he'd needed so desperately that he'd convinced himself he was in love with Gabrielle. Which was just another in a series of humiliations, and he flushed hard as he imagined what they thought of him.

They were waiting for him even now, making their rounds in the marketplace and no doubt worrying that he'd get himself in some kind of trouble while he was out of their sight. For him they'd been a saving grace when he needed one more than anything, but for them he was nothing more than a burden. He was just another of the helpless masses they found themselves rescuing on a near constant basis; he couldn't even count himself among their friends. And why would they consider him a friend? He was such a coward that he'd gotten Timo killed, and since the day he left home he hadn't done a single thing that he could be proud of.

When he finally caught his breath he straightened up, wiping harshly at his eyes and clearing his throat. He wasn't going to go find Xena and Gabrielle; there was no point in burdening them with having to look after him. If the looks they'd been giving him for the past few days were any indication they'd be asking questions before long anyway, and he didn't want to answer any probing questions about what had him waking up in a cold sweat every morning. In fact the only thing he really wanted to do was find his father and show him that he wasn't a little boy anymore, and even if he was still clumsy and awkward he was willing to die in the quest for revenge.

Title: Desperate Measures
Author/pseudonym: Caroline Crane
Fandom: X:WP
Paring: Ares/Joxer (also mention of Cupid/Strife, Xena/Gabrielle)
Rating: PG13
Status: new
Archive: sure, just let me know
E-mail address for feedback: caroline_crane@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: Part 4 of however many Joxer demands. This part follows No
Such Thing as the Real World. Other parts can be found on my web site.
Other websites: http://desiderium.slashcity.net/
Disclaimers: I do get paid to write this, but only by my job and they don't know what they're paying me to write. So that doesn't really count.

Notes: Unbeta'd. Although I do my own betaing, so I guess I should say 'not proofread'. Mea culpa.

Summary: Joxer seeks revenge and a rash decision by Ares helps Aphrodite start to put the pieces together. I know that's a lame summary. Summaries are hard for this series, go figure.

Warnings: nope

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Joxer’s sense of self-preservation had never been very strong, but from the moment he left Aphrodite’s temple he wasn’t thinking about his own survival at all. He didn’t care that confronting his father meant almost certain death - or worse - either at the hands of his father himself, or one of the questionable characters that was always around in his youth. It didn’t even cross his mind that anything could have changed in the fifteen years he’d been away, as far as he was concerned his father could never be more than the miserable bastard that had threatened to kill him and the only person in the world that cared about him.

He’d never had a doubt that his father would follow through on his threats if Joxer ever saw Timo again, but he’d foolishly assumed that if he left his father would leave Timo alone. Trusting his father was the dumbest mistake he’d ever made, and he’d as good as killed Timo with his own hands. That was the thought he couldn’t shake as he made his way back along the road he’d just traveled with Xena and Gabrielle. Every time he tried to blame his father, to hate him for going back on his word, there was a voice in the back of his head telling him he should have known better. If he wasn’t such a coward he wouldn’t have run, or at least he would have warned Timo before he left.

Ever since Aphrodite told him that Timo had been murdered he couldn’t stop picturing it, a dozen different scenarios forming in his mind about the last few minutes of his life. Maybe part of him was hoping that eventually he’d come up with a scenario that ended differently, with Timo surviving against impossible odds and disappearing somewhere safe, somewhere that even Aphrodite couldn’t find him. He knew it wasn’t true, but just for a few seconds he could almost believe it.

None of it made any sense, not the fact that his father had gone back on his word or the fact that Timo was serving in Ares’ temple when he was murdered. Not that his father had really promised *not* to kill Joxer’s lover if Joxer never saw him again, but Joxer had assumed that as long as he disappeared they’d both be safe. He never would have guessed that even his father could be that sadistic, but part of the reason he hadn’t tried to find Timo earlier was that part of him was afraid of what he’d find if he started looking.

He thought once he knew the truth that he’d feel at peace somehow, but now that he knew he just kept coming up with more questions. Like what Timo was doing serving Ares when he’d never even set foot in the temple while he and Joxer were together. If he had some allegiance to Ares he’d kept it a secret from Joxer, which made even less sense than Joxer’s father killing Timo after Joxer ran away. And how long had he waited? He wished he’d thought to ask Aphrodite while he had the chance, but he was too shocked at the news that Timo was gone to remember the details. A night alone in the forest had given him plenty of time to think, and now he had more questions that ever.

The longer he was alone with his thoughts the more confused he got, and the more determined he was to get answers out of his father one way or the other. If nothing else at least the old man would be able to tell Joxer when he’d killed Timo, why he’d done it and what his last few moments of life had been like. He found himself praying fervently to no one in particular that Timo’s last few moments on Earth had been relatively painless, that his father or whoever he’d sent to kill Timo hadn’t tortured him first. He could only imagine what Jett did to his lover if he was the one that took his life, back before death became his profession and he learned to kill efficiently and with an eye for discretion.

Or his father might have told all his disgusting friends about the two of them, told them to keep an eye out even for a boy fitting Timo’s description. There was no telling what kind of torture they would have put him through before they finally killed him, and every time the thought crossed Joxer’s mind his stomach rolled and he had to stop and sit down until he could breathe again.

It had taken him almost two days to make the journey from Aphrodite’s temple back to the village where he grew up, but as he reached the outskirts a sense of dread crept over him and sent a chill down his spine. He’d sworn when he left that he would never set eyes on this place again, and there was only one reason that he would go back on his promise to himself. He’d never been a big believer in revenge, but from the moment Aphrodite had said the word ‘killed’ revenge had been the only thing on his mind. It was the only thing keeping him moving even now, and he couldn’t have stopped himself from seeking out his father even if he wanted to. And he wanted to; part of him wanted to turn around and run as far away as he had when he was sixteen, but a voice in the back of his head called him a coward every time the urge struck him. The voice sounded too much like his father for him to ignore, and it spurred him forward through the tiny, run-down village.

He barely registered the bleakness of his surroundings, ignoring the sense of familiarity even after fifteen years of avoiding this very place. As he got closer to the tiny, cramped house where he’d spent the first miserably sixteen years of his life his footsteps slowed, and by the time he reached the small dirt yard his heart was beating so hard in his chest that he thought it would explode before he ever laid eyes on his father. It was that moment that the old man chose to round the corner of the house, his hair gray but still as thick as Joxer remembered. His face was even more weathered than when Joxer was young, and he walked with a stoop that made him look far less menacing than the imposing figure he’d been when Joxer was still a little boy.

It took a few moments for him to realize that someone was standing at the end of his yard, and when he looked up he had to shield his eyes from the sun. “What business do you have here?”

Maybe he should have expected it, or maybe it was just the sound of the voice that had filled his nightmares for so many years. It wasn’t so surprising that his own father didn’t recognize him; it hadn’t taken Jace long to leave home without looking back after Joxer ran away, and Jett wasn’t that far behind. As far as he knew neither of his brothers felt any obligation to their parents, so he couldn’t expect his father to know him on sight.

“Are you dumb? We don’t feed beggars or foreigners here. Now move on before I give you a reason to,” the old man snapped, drawing himself up to his full height. For a moment Joxer recognized the strong, bitter bully that had promised to kill him more times than he could count as a kid, and he swallowed the rush of fear and took a step forward.

“It’s Joxer. I’m Joxer. Your son.”

It felt strange to have to introduce himself to a man he’d spent so many years in fear of, and stranger still when his father’s expression shifted from annoyed to confused. A moment later recognition dawned on him and his scowl returned, darker than before and mocking. “It figures the cowardly one would be the one to show up after all these years. I took you for dead, boy. It’s a wonder you made it a day by yourself, you always were weak.”

“I grew up,” Joxer answered, amazed at how calm he sounded. The anger was still boiling just under his skin, but as soon as he laid eyes on his father again he felt almost like he’d stepped outside himself. He didn’t feel the sting intended by the insult, all he felt as he stared back at the older man was a gnawing emptiness.

The harsh laugh that escaped his father’s throat reminded him of why he’d come there in the first place, and he curled his fists at his sides as the old man took a few steps toward him. “I should have killed you when I had the chance and saved you the trouble.”

His father smiled then, his lips twisting into a malicious imitation of amusement. As soon as Joxer realized that that was probably the last thing Timo saw before he died his hand was on his sword, and before he knew what he was doing he moved forward. "You should have killed me when I was too weak to fight back," Joxer said, the mocking laughter ringing in his ears only making him more determined to finish what he'd started, "because now I'm going to kill you."

"Careful, boy," his father warned, reaching for his own weapon as Joxer advanced on him. Before he unsheathed his sword Joxer rushed forward, backing him against the side of the house and pressing the blunt edge of his sword against his father's neck.

"You killed him," Joxer hissed, his jaw clenched and his arms shaking with the rage pumping through his veins. "You didn't have to. I left, you could have just forgotten all about me. You didn't have to kill him."

His father didn't answer, but he cast a quick glance over Joxer's shoulder. He smiled grimly at the look of panic in the older man's eyes, tightening his grip and pressing the blade a little closer to his skin. "No one can save you, Father. If you'd just let him live…" He trailed off when his voice broke, swallowing the rush of emotion and shoving his father back against the wall.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins, blood pounding so loud against his ears that he didn't have a prayer of hearing someone come up behind him. All he could see was Timo's face, the smile lighting up dark eyes the last time he said 'I love you'. Hot tears stung his eyes and the image blurred, and in that moment a pair of thick hands closed around his neck. He dropped his sword automatically as he struggled against his attacker, but his father was already moving away from the house and the old man's harsh laughter was the last thing he heard before everything went black.

~

Cupid flashed into Aphrodite’s temple, followed almost immediately by Strife. They took a second to look around, finally locating the goddess of Love sitting at her desk. “Hey, Mom,” Cupid said. “It’s the weirdest thing, we just came from Dad’s temple in Araxova…”

“Did you see Joxie?” she asked, her eyes wide as she finally looked up at them. “Is he okay?”

“What? No, we didn’t see Joxer,” Cupid answered, his forehead furrowing as he tried to figure out what his mother was talking about. “Why would Joxer be there? I thought he was still with Xena.”

She let out a frustrated sigh and sank a little further into her chair, twirling a golden curl nervously around her finger. “He’s supposed to be. When he left my temple he said he was going to find Xena, but when I looked in on him to see if he was okay he was alone. And he was headed back in the direction he’d come from. I thought maybe he went back to the temple, maybe to pay his respects or something. Mortals are big on that sort of thing.”

“Wait, ya mean he already knows what Unc said? ‘Cause me an’ Cupe went to see Unc’s priest, and there’s somethin’ strange goin’ on,” Strife said, resisting the urge to rub his hands together. There was definitely something off about Ares’ story, the details just didn’t add up. This kind of thing was right up Strife’s alley, and it wasn’t very often he got the opportunity to stir up a little mischief in War’s life. “Ya know there’s no record of this Timo evah workin’ for Unc?”

“Well Ares said he was an orphan, right? So maybe that old priest just never bothered to make a record of it.”

“Yeah, but Unc knew,” Strife said. “That means there should have been some kind of official record. At least there shoulda been a record of the murder, right? Nobody’s evah even heard of the guy. We asked around.”

Aphrodite frowned and dropped the curl she’d been twirling, sitting up a little straighter in her chair as she stared at the two younger gods. “You know, Ares was acting a little strange the other day. I was so worried about Joxie that I forgot all about it.”

“Strange how?” Cupid asked. “It’s not like Dad cares about Joxer. I’m surprised he even knows who he is.”

“I’ve been getting some weird vibes from him lately, for one thing. I swear the other day it almost felt like he was in love. But as far as I know he’s not even seeing anybody. Strife, he’s not trying to hide an affair, is he? If anybody knew about it you would, you see him most.”

“Unc in love? Yeah, right.” Strife shook his head and let out an amused laugh. “Come ta think of it, though, he has been actin’ sorta weird.”

"Tell me about it. You should have seen how bent out of shape he got when I mentioned bringing Joxie up here for a little while. I just wanted to make sure he took the news about his friend okay, but you'd think I suggested making him immortal or something. Ares totally freaked."

"How did he take it?" Cupid asked, trying to steer his mother and cousin back to the main reason for their conversation. He hadn't seen Ares acting any differently than usual, and secretly he wasn't so sure Ares was wrong about bringing Joxer up to Olympus. He knew from personal experience what could happen when mortals were given free rein on Olympus; look at what happened with Psyche. A shudder rolled through him at the thought of his scary ex-wife, and he pushed the thought away and inched a little closer to Strife. "I mean he's not here, so it couldn't have been that bad, right?"

"I guess he's okay," she answered, shrugging as she recalled Joxer walking out of her temple. "I mean he seemed like he was in a hurry to get back to Xena, I thought maybe he just didn't want to cry in front of me or something. Although as soon as I told him he got this look on his face, so I took a teensy peek into his thoughts. That was weird."

"Joxer an' weird kinda go togetha," Strife interjected, smirking when both love gods turned to frown at him.

"This was different," Aphrodite said. "He wasn't thinking about the dead kid, he was thinking about his father. 'If I ever catch you again you'll regret it. I'll kill you both', that's what he was thinking. Over and over, and I got the feeling it was something his father said to him."

"Geez, and I complain about Dad," Cupid muttered under his breath. As soon as he said it the energy in the room shifted, and a moment later Ares was standing in front of them. Cupid's eyes widened and he stepped a little behind Strife, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

Ares looked around at the three of them, a characteristic scowl pasted firmly on his face. " I assumed after our discussion that this business with that dead orphan was finished," he growled, raising an eyebrow at Aphrodite before he turned to glare at Strife. "Imagine my surprise when I received word from one of my priests that Love and Mischief had been to him, asking questions about something that happened fifteen years ago."

Aphrodite rolled her eyes and stood up, letting out an indignant huff. "That 'dead orphan' happens to be very important to Joxie. Well he was. Well he still is, it's just that he's dead now. But still…"

"Enough," Ares ground out, turning back to his sister with a thunderous expression. "You told the mortal what he wanted to know, your business with my priests is done. Now let it be."

"Geez, bro, lighten up," Aphrodite said, drawing herself up to her full height and tilting her chin back to meet Ares' glare with a defiant expression. "That's what we were just talking about. I told Joxie his little friend was murdered, only now I think maybe it was a bad idea to leave him alone."

"He's got Xena to look after him, he'll be fine," Ares answered dismissively.

"Jox ditched Xena, Unc," Strife corrected him. "Coupla days ago, right after Aunt 'Dite broke the news. He's headed back toward your temple now."

"He's gone back…to Araxova?" Ares asked, his voice so low that for a second Strife wondered if he was imagining the hint of panic in his uncle's tone. He sought out Ares' eyes to see if he could tell what his uncle was thinking, but his expression was carefully neutral.

Strife shrugged and glanced at Aphrodite, but she looked as confused as he was. The only thing he was sure of now was that Ares knew something he wasn't telling, and Strife was dying to find out what it was. "Yeah, don't know why though. Aunt 'Dite said he was thinkin' somethin' 'bout his dad."

For a moment Ares' eyes clouded, then he took three long strides forward and lifted Aphrodite off the temple floor by her arms. "He went back to his father's house, and you just let him go?"

"Hey, let go, you big jerk," she snapped, her feet kicking uselessly in midair as she struggled against him. "What do you care? You don't even like Joxie."

"Do you know what you've done?" he hissed, his grip tightening painfully for a second before he let out a growl and disappeared. Aphrodite yelped as she felt herself falling, hitting the floor in with a graceless thud. She glanced up at her son and nephew, but all that was left of them was a shimmer of sparkles as they flashed out of the temple.

~

The first thing Ares saw when he appeared in the dirt yard was Joxer's eyes rolling back in his head as a thick, dirty farmhand squeezed his neck. Before he even thought about the consequences Ares acted, reaching out to grab the farmhand by the scruff of his neck and yanking him backwards. He barely registered Joxer crumpling to the ground in a lifeless heap as he threw the other man backwards, listening to the satisfying crunch of bones breaking as he hit the ground.

Once the farmhand was out of the way Ares turned toward the older man that he could only assume was Joxer's father, stalking forward menacingly. "My L-lord," the man stammered, his eyes wide as he glanced from his farmhand to Ares. "This vagrant was going to kill me…"

"This *vagrant* is your son, and you're not worthy to die by his hand. I should have killed you myself years ago."

"Dad?"

Ares glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Cupid's voice, some of the blind fury subsiding as he realized they'd followed him. This wasn't the way this was supposed to go; he'd only told Aphrodite that Timo died so she'd quit poking around in the past. She wasn't supposed to make Joxer's heartbreak into a special project, but he should have known that she would. She'd always been fond of him, a fact that had made Ares irrationally jealous on more than one occasion. He looked down at Joxer, realizing for the first time that his breathing was shallow and strained. Panic filled him again and he forgot about teaching Joxer's father a lesson, stooping down to pick up the too-slender body as gingerly as possible before he straightened up to face his son and nephew.

"Strife, deal with this…creature," Ares said, casting a disdainful glare over his shoulder at Joxer's father. "Assume that he's been disloyal to the house of War and act accordingly."

Strife grinned menacingly as Ares and Joxer dematerialized in front of him, leaving nothing between him and the old man but a few feet of ground. "Cupe, ya might wanna…you know," Strife said, casting a quick glance at his lover. "This could get a little messy."

"Are you kidding? I love watching you work," Cupid said, grinning when Strife raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What? Okay, the blood and gore part I'm not that crazy about, but watching you enjoy yourself like that is a total turn-on."

"Yeah? Well in that case let's get this over with quick," Strife said, leaning forward for a hard kiss before he turned back to Joxer's father. When he pulled away from Cupid again the older man was halfway to the back of the house, creeping along the wall in an effort to make a quiet getaway. "Aww, ain't that cute, Cupe? He's tryin' to escape."

Cupid chuckled softly as he watched Strife disappear and then rematerialize in front of the old man. "Now that's no way to treat yer guests," Strife drawled as he lifted the old man off the ground and held him in midair. "I got a few questions I been dyin' ta ask…"

~

Ares laid Joxer gently onto the soft bed, frowning as Joxer whimpered in his sleep and tried to move unconsciously closer to him. It was tempting to stretch out next to him and pull Joxer into his arms, hold him tight until he woke up and demanded to know what Ares thought he was doing. Not that Joxer would ever demand anything of War, Ares reminded himself with a wry smile. He might try to stammer some kind of request for an explanation, but he probably wouldn't get much further than 'Where am I?'

The thought of silencing Joxer's questions with a kiss was too tempting, though, and he knew if he stayed that that was exactly what would happen. There was no way he could risk being so close to Joxer, not after Cupid and Strife had already seen what he did to that farmhand. He felt a familiar surge of rage as he remembered that man laying his hands on Joxer, and he shook himself and stood up abruptly. Nothing had changed, as far as Joxer and everyone else knew Timo was still dead and Ares had nothing to do with it. That was the way it had to stay, no matter what it did to him to know that he was the reason Joxer was suffering.

He let out a soft sigh and leaned over the sleeping figure again, checking to make sure that his breathing was slowly returning to normal. He pushed aside the collar of Joxer's tunic and fingered the marks the farmhand had left on his neck, watching them disappear as he ran his fingers over the soft skin. When Joxer was completely healed he pushed a lock of dark hair off the mortal's forehead and leaned down, brushing his lips across Joxer's skin. As soon as he realized what he'd done he straightened up again, taking a step backwards as he watched Joxer sigh in his sleep and turn over.

It was too dangerous, there were too many temptations just from being in the same room with him. This was the reason Ares had kept his distance for so long, pretended not to even know who Joxer was. He'd pretended so well, in fact, that the Goddess of Love had never even suspected. She might suspect something now, but he'd find a way to make his family forget the small lapse in judgement he'd made when he went after Joxer. If nothing else he'd make them believe that he'd done it for Xena's sake, it would be difficult but they'd known him to be sentimental about his daughter once or twice in the past.

That was the way it had to be, because if they knew the truth about Timo there was no way his secret would stay a secret for long. Even if they didn't mean for it to get out it would, these things had a way of spinning out of control quickly. Joxer was safe now and his father would pay for all the pain he'd inflicted, and that was all that mattered. He took a deep breath and backed toward the door, letting himself out of the room and turning in the direction of his sister's throne room.

When he found Aphrodite she was pacing the length of the room, worrying one of her curls between her fingers as she bit the nails on her free hand. "Your manicure, 'Dite," he said softly, smiling in spite of himself when she stopped pacing and looked down at her nails.

"Damn," she muttered under her breath, letting go of her hair to wave her other hand over the nails she'd chewed into nothing. When her manicure was once again perfect she crossed her arms over her chest and turned stormy eyes on him. "And just what exactly was that all about? One minute you're about to tear my arms off and then you just *drop* me and disappear. I mean come on, bro, that was high drama, even for you. If I didn't know better…"

Ares held up a hand to silence her, raising an eyebrow when she stopped speaking abruptly and snapped her jaw shut. "Joxer's here," he said quietly, looking away for a moment and clearing his throat before he continued. "He went after his father, I assume to kill the old man. I have Strife taking care of that, but Joxer's in no shape to be alone. He'll need rest and an explanation. You can take care of him this time, I assume?"

"Wait a second. You brought him here? What happened to 'Mortals die all the time, 'Dite'?"

Ares winced, but he recovered quickly and schooled his features into a scowl that told her he was in no mood to be second-guessed. "I dealt with a disloyal follower of War, the mortal in your chambers is your business." A second later he was gone, leaving his sister to stare open-mouthed at the spot where he'd been standing and wonder what kind of explanation she could give Joxer when she didn't even know what was going on.

Title: Clouds of Olympus
Author/pseudonym: Caroline Crane
Fandom: X:WP
Paring: Ares/Joxer (also mention of Cupid/Strife, Xena/Gabrielle)
Rating: PG13
Status: new
Archive: sure, just let me know
E-mail address for feedback: caroline_crane@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: Part 5 of the Devotion series. This part follows Desperate
Measures. Other parts can be found on my web site.
Other websites: http://desiderium.slashcity.net/
Disclaimers: I do get paid to write this, but only by my job and they don't
know what they're paying me to write. So that doesn't really count.

Summary: Joxer wakes up in the House of Love and learns a little bit about
what happened after he passed out.

Warnings: nope

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Strife didn’t remember to clean off the blood until he flashed into
Aphrodite’s throne room and found his aunt wrinkling her dainty nose at him.
At first he wasn’t sure what her problem was, then he glanced over at
Cupid and saw the gleam in his cousin’s eye as he raised one blond eyebrow.
“Sorry, Aunt ‘Dite,” he said, cleaning his clothes and face with a wave of
his hand.

She waved off the apology and glanced over her shoulder in the direction of
the hall that led to the living quarters. “Did you get anything out of
Joxie’s father before you…did whatever you did?”

Strife couldn’t help grinning at her expression, but he pulled himself
together as quickly as he could and glanced over at Cupid. “I asked him a
bunch a stuff, but he didn’t know a whole lot.”

“Yeah,” Cupid chimed in. “It was the weirdest thing, like he didn’t even
know what we were talking about.”

“Well you can’t expect him to just admit to murdering a poor, defenseless
orphan.”

Cupid shrugged and glanced at Strife before turning back to his mother. “I
don’t know, Mom, he seemed pretty impressed with himself for torturing his
kids when they were little. I mean he kept going on about how he should
have killed Joxer back when he was a little kid and saved himself a whole
lot of trouble. I think he said something about drowning him and his
brother Jace when they were born. He said if he’d known how they were gonna
turn out he would have.”

Aphrodite had begun turning a little green when Strife appeared, but now the
vague disgust was replaced with an anger that few people ever saw in the
Goddess of Love. “You’re never to repeat that in front of Joxie. Ever.
Don’t even say it if you think there’s a chance he might hear you,
understand?”

“You really think his father didn’t say those things to him?” Cupid asked.

“I don’t care. The point is he’s gone now, and Joxer never needs to hear
those things again. He is gone, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, took care of him per Unc’s orders,” Strife answered, his grin
returning at the memory of the old man’s last few moments on Earth.

Aphrodite cleared her throat and glanced over her shoulder again as though
she was worried that Joxer might have woken up already and wandered out to
listen. “Did he say anything useful before he died?”

“Well that’s the funny thing,” Cupid chimed in. “He wouldn’t admit to
killing Timo, or even to having him killed. You’d think he’d want to brag
about something like that, especially feeling the way he did about…” He
trailed off and glanced in the direction of the guestrooms before turning
back to his mother and lowering his voice. “He remembered Joxer having a
boyfriend, and he admitted to threatening to kill them both. He swore he
didn’t go through with it, though.”

“Yeah, he even said he had Jett look for the kid, but he never could find
him. Nobody ever saw him again after Jox took off,” Strife added. “I know
he was tellin’ the truth, I checked. I searched his mind but there was
nothin’. He never laid eyes on any kid named Timo.”

A small sigh escaped Aphrodite’s throat but she ignored the questioning
looks from her son and nephew, squaring her shoulders and pushing a wayward
curl away from her face. “Cupie, do me a favor and go sit with Joxie for
awhile, will you? I don’t want him to wake up alone and wonder where he is.
Strife, you better go check in with Ares. Zeus knows he’s been bent out
of shape about all the time you’ve been spending over here lately. I’ve got
someone I need to see, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Before either of them had a chance to answer she was gone, leaving the two
gods blinking at the spot where she’d been standing a moment ago.

~

If anyone had dared to enter the House of War at that moment they would have
found it even darker than usual, and if they had any sense at all they would
have turned around and walked right back out again. The air itself was
heavy, laden with a brooding energy that could only come from a malcontented
God of War. A cursory glance around the throne room would have found it
empty, another sure sign that something was wrong with Ares. Unless he was
asleep or having sex he was generally in his throne room during business
hours, at least when he was actually on Olympus and not in the mortal realm
overseeing a battle.

He knew no one would dare to look for him, no matter how curious they were
about why he’d suddenly shown such a strong interest in Joxer. So he didn’t
worry about anyone finding him in his bedroom, sprawled in the only chair
and scowling at the wall in front of him. He held a flat red stone in his
hand, rubbing the careworn surface between his thumb and forefinger. A
piece of crumpled, yellowed parchment sat on the table next to him, but he
didn’t worry about anyone wandering in and finding him brooding over a
fifteen-year-old note. Anyone that knew him knew his private chambers were
off limits, and anyone that happened to stumble in unawares wouldn’t be
leaving in one piece.

If he’d stopped to think about what he was doing he would have felt a little
silly, he might have even convinced himself to finally get rid of the only
evidence of his deepest secret. It wasn’t as though he needed the note
anymore, he’d memorized it years ago. He didn’t even need to keep it to
feel close to Joxer, because all he had to do if he wanted to check on him
was pay a visit to Xena. It didn’t even matter that she thought he was
trying to annoy her back into his service, in fact it was better that Xena
didn’t question the reason for Ares’ visits.

So he didn’t need the note, but he’d never once thought about getting rid of
it. Even during his most hopeless moments, when he was sure that Joxer was
in love with that twit Gabrielle, he’d never thought about throwing away the
one piece of their past that he still had.

Killing that mortal that had tried to choke Joxer - that had been
satisfying. More than satisfying, it was the first time in a long time that
killing had felt like more than going through the motions. He still enjoyed
a good battle as much as he ever did, but it was more about the skill of
fighting than the actual death count. But tossing that mortal and listening
to the crunch of bones as his spine shattered had been almost stimulating.
Until he’d looked down and seen Joxer lifeless at his feet, and all the
battle lust had flooded out of him. After that all he’d felt was a blind
panic, and he hadn’t even stopped to think about how any of it must look to
his family.

Now, of course, that was all he could think about, and he was almost sure
they knew more than they were letting on. Aphrodite definitely knew
something, although whether she knew specifics or she was guessing he
couldn’t say. He’d learned over the years not to underestimate Strife,
either, because if nothing else his nephew had a talent for sniffing out a
lie that could lead to trouble for someone. Ironically Cupid would be the
easiest of all of them to convince that there was nothing going on, but even
that was probably impossible now. Cupid had seen him throw that man across
the yard and shatter his spine, and he’d seen the way Ares lifted Joxer into
his arms.

They’d both be back by now, which meant they knew exactly where he’d taken
Joxer. So there was a good chance than whatever spin he put on the
situation was just going to make them more curious, and no amount of damage
control was going to save him. He could just order them all to let the
situation be, but he knew how much weight his orders carried with his sister
and even his son. Strife was the only one he could terrorize into letting
the subject drop, and he wasn’t even sure if that would work this time.

He’d made the mistake of letting them see his single vulnerability, and even
though they hadn’t put all the pieces together yet it wouldn’t be long
before they did. So the only thing he could do was stay as far away from
Joxer as possible and hope that none of them said anything about Ares’ role
in all of this. If one of them told Joxer their theories on Ares’
involvement it would all be over, because there was no way Ares could stop
them all from putting the pieces together.

Part of him wanted them to figure it out. He’d never admit it, maybe not
even to himself, but he felt his heart leap every time he imagined Joxer
finally realizing the truth. Maybe he’d be so overjoyed to hear that Timo
wasn’t dead that he’d forget all the betrayal, forget the years of misery
and realize that it meant they could be together again. And they could,
because Ares was War and he could take whatever consort he chose. No one
would speak against his choice, at least not if they valued their life. The
thought was so wonderful that he found himself actually entertaining going
to Joxer and telling him the truth before any of the others had the chance,
but as soon as he realized what he was thinking he dismissed the idea as
ridiculous.

There was no way he could confess the truth now, not after he’d let
Aphrodite tell Joxer that Timo was dead. Maybe before that, maybe if he’d
gone to Joxer and told him that he couldn’t stand to keep quiet anymore. If
he’d confessed the truth even a week ago it might have been different, but
now it was too late and there was nothing he could do to take any of it
back. Even if he managed to convince Joxer that he hadn’t meant for things
to get so out of hand it would never be the same again; they’d never be
those two boys with no one else in the world except each other.

Except even that was a lie, he reminded himself harshly as he stood up and
picked up the note. He glanced down at it and let out a barely audible
sigh, dropping it back in its drawer and setting the stone on top of it
again. He felt someone enter his hall as he closed the drawer, and he
pulled himself together and pasted a menacing scowl on his face before he
flashed into his throne room.

“What?” he growled when he found Strife sitting at the long stone table at
the center of the room, his feet propped up and his hands folded over his
chest.

“Nothin’,” Strife answered, his grin fading as he caught the dangerous
expression on his uncle’s face. “I work here, remember? Mischief? House
‘o War?”

“I know who you are,” Ares muttered. He resisted the urge to look away,
crossing his arms over his chest and squaring his shoulders before he
changed the subject. “Did you take care of the situation?”

“What…oh, ya mean Jox’s old man. Yeah, sure, Unc. He’s dealin’ with Uncle
Hades now. Ya don’t hafta worry ‘bout him anymore.”

Strife grinned again and Ares got the distinct impression that he wasn’t
telling Ares everything. He glared at the younger god for a few more
minutes, then finally gave up and let out a sigh. “Fine, go do…whatever it
is you do. Just get out of my sight.”

“Sure, no problem. I’m gonna go see if Cupe wants help watching Jox.”

Ares opened his mouth to ask what Strife was talking about, but he caught
himself before the words escaped his mouth. Instead he snapped his jaw shut
and watched Strife flash out of the room, frowning at his nephew’s
expression. There were several things wrong with the brief conversation
they’d just had, starting with the fact that Strife hadn’t asked why Ares
was suddenly so concerned about Joxer. Usually his nephew was too curious
for his own good, and he rarely exercised the kind of self-control Ares had
just seen. Which meant that Strife knew something, but Ares had no way of
knowing what without coming right out and asking. Ares sighed again and
sank onto his throne to brood, forcing thoughts of Joxer out of his mind
long enough to think of some way to fix the situation as quickly and
painlessly as possible.

~

The first thing Joxer was aware of when he woke was that the ground
underneath him seemed unreasonably soft. He'd heard stories of travelers
wandering into fairy glens and falling asleep on inviting-but-enchanted
fields of clover so soft that not even Xena could resist stopping to rest,
but those were just stories. Fairies weren't real, and anyway he didn't
remember wandering into unknown territory. In fact the last place he
remembered was one he knew all too well, a place he never expected to see
again after he fled fifteen years ago.

A memory of his father's menacing smile came rushing back, and he winced as
he remembered strong hands closing around his throat. So that was it - he
was dead, and somehow he'd found some soft place in Tartarus to rest. He
forced his eyes open in a show of bravery that he didn't feel in his heart,
reaching out and making contact with something smooth and slick. Okay, so
maybe he wasn’t dead after all, because he was pretty sure there was no silk
in Tartarus.

“Hey there.”

The honey-thick voice startled him and he sat up quickly, flushing the color
of the rose drapes around the bed when the sheet fell down to reveal his
bare chest. He didn’t remember getting undressed, in fact he didn’t
remember anything after he found himself standing in front of his father for
the first time since he left home. He definitely didn’t remember how he got
out of his father’s yard with his life, never mind how he ended up in a soft
bed covered in white silk and draped in pink curtains.

“C-Cupid?”

“Yeah. You feeling okay, Jox? You took a pretty nasty blow to the head
when you hit the ground, I guess. Mom should have healed you, though.
Maybe she missed a spot.”

The winged god was frowning at him, and even though Joxer was fairly sure it
was out of concern he couldn’t help being a little nervous. It certainly
wasn’t every day that he woke up to find a god looming over him, let alone
in an unfamiliar bed and missing his clothes. “Wh-where am I?”

A soft chuckle escaped Cupid’s throat, but it didn’t sound particularly
menacing so Joxer managed to relax marginally. He wouldn’t really be
surprised to find one of the pantheon making fun of him, but he was too
rattled by the sudden change of scenery to worry about whether or not Cupid
was laughing at him.

“You’re in one of Mom’s guestrooms. Pop brought you up here after he wasted
that guy that was trying to choke you.”

Joxer frowned as he watched Cupid settle on the end of the bed, his wings
folded neatly behind him. He knew who Cupid’s father was, but it didn’t
make sense that Ares would have killed his one of his father’s men. It
didn’t make any sense that Ares would have been there in the first place,
and he couldn’t even begin to figure out why the god of War would have
brought him to Aphrodite’s temple when he passed out. “Why…what was your
father doing there?”

Cupid’s only answer was a shrug, then he grinned and stood up again.
“Listen, I better go tell Mom you’re awake. She’s been freaking out, she’ll
kill me if I don’t let her know right away.”

Joxer nodded slowly, swallowing the urge to ask Cupid any more questions.
So far the god had been perfectly friendly, but Joxer couldn’t help
wondering how far he’d be able to push it before he upset someone. Just the
fact that he was in one of Aphrodite’s temples set his nerves on edge,
demanding answers from a member of the pantheon would definitely be
detrimental to his health.

“Thank you,” he murmured, although he wasn’t even sure what he was thanking
Cupid for.

“No problem, Jox, you’re the most interesting thing going on in the mortal
world lately.” Cupid grinned again and disappeared, but a second later he
reappeared in exactly the same spot. “I just have one question before Mom
starts fussing over you and won’t let anybody near you.”

“O-okay,” Joxer stammered, his heart pounding too hard against his ribcage
as he wondered what exactly Cupid found so interesting about him.

“Were you really gonna kill your dad?”

Joxer shrugged and looked down at the silk sheet still covering the lower
half of his body. The truth was that he hadn’t really been thinking at all,
but as soon as he remembered his words to his father he knew that he would
have gone through with it. A shiver ran down his spine and he closed his
eyes against a fresh wave of guilt and misery. Finally he remembered that
Cupid was still waiting for an answer, and he forced his eyes open and
looked up at the god. “I was willing to die trying.”

For a second Cupid just stared at him, and Joxer squirmed uncomfortably
under the almost palpable gaze. He was starting to wonder if he’d said the
wrong thing, but he wasn’t about to lie to a god. Even if it was just
Cupid, Joxer knew better than to think he could get a lie past a member of
the pantheon. He wasn’t proud of the fact that he’d been willing to kill
his own father, but he hadn’t been thinking beyond his grief at the time.

“Don’t worry, Strife took care of it for you,” Cupid finally said, his smile
twisting into something dark just for a split second. It looked so out of
place on Cupid’s perfect features that Joxer wondered if he’d imagined it,
but then Cupid grinned and shook his head. “I’m half House of War,
remember? Take care, Jox.”

Cupid disappeared again before Joxer could react, leaving him alone to
wonder why Ares had bothered to save his life. None of it made any sense;
Aphrodite he could understand, she’d always been kind to him. He’d given up
trying to figure out why ages ago, and now he was just grateful for the fact
that at least one of the gods thought he was worth something. He couldn’t
understand what Cupid found so interesting about his situation, though, or
why he’d been waiting for Joxer to wake up.

He pushed the sheet back and stood up, wrapping his arms around his chest
self-consciously as he scanned the room for any sign of his clothes. There
was a good chance that Aphrodite would appear at any second, and he really
didn’t want her to find him wandering around her temple naked. Not that
she’d probably think twice about it, but he was already embarrassed enough
without adding that humiliation to his list.

After a cursory search of the room he gave up on finding his own clothes,
but he did find a pair of what looked like silk pajamas folded neatly on a
low bench at the foot of the bed. He unfolded them, noting the softness of
the white silk between his fingers as he held them up. They looked about
his size, and even if they weren’t meant for him it wasn’t as though he had
a choice. Surely Aphrodite wouldn’t mind if he just borrowed them until he
found out where his own clothes were. He took a deep breath to calm a rush
of nerves and stepped into them, pulling the drawstring tight at his waist
and tying them.

Once he was sort of dressed he felt better, and some of the tension began to
leave him as he looked around the room again. The bed was huge and located
directly in the center of the far wall. It was the only piece of furniture
in the room, and the walls were decorated in tapestries. Most of them were
illustrations of various famous love ballads, but one of them Joxer
recognized as a portrait of Cupid as a baby. The idea that any of the gods
had ever been anything other than the imposing, awe-inspiring creatures they
were right now was hard to visualize, but Joxer knew that most of them had
started as godlings at some point long before he was born.

There were heavy curtains draped over the center of the wall opposite the
bed, and Joxer frowned as he realized for the first time that there was a
tiny stream of light seeping into the room from under the curtains. He’d
always assumed that the orgy rooms in Love’s temples were underneath the
main part of the temple, but he must be in a bedroom on the main floor,
probably behind the altar. He’d never attended any of the orgies at
Aphrodite’s temples, but he’d heard enough stories from the mortals that
were occasionally invited to know that they must have taken him far from
Araxova.

Slowly he reached up and pushed the curtains back, expecting to find himself
looking out over Athens or even Crete. What he saw made his heart skip a
beat, and he grabbed the windowsill to keep himself from falling to the
marble floor underneath him. The room he was in appeared to be a few floors
up, either that or the building itself was floating several stories about
the ground. It was hard to tell because he wasn’t sure if he could trust
his eyes. Every time he tried to focus long enough to see where the
building ended and the ground began his vision would cloud, almost as though
the scene in front of him was fluid somehow. He shook his head and looked
out over the horizon again, his eyes wide as he took in what appeared to be
a series of paths paved in gold. As far as he could tell they led into the
clouds hovering just above the ground, although it didn’t really look like
any ground he’d ever seen before. The whole scene felt almost dreamlike,
and he began to wonder if maybe he’d hit his head harder than he thought.

He was still staring out the window when a hand landed on his arm, and he
jumped and turned too fast, nearly knocking Aphrodite to the floor. “Whoa,
calm down, Joxie. It’s just me,” she said, smiling as she watched him
blush.

“I’m sorry, Aphrodite, you startled me. I was just…I mean this is…where are
we?”

“My place, of course,” she answered, gesturing vaguely at the room behind
him. “Couldn’t you tell from the décor?”

“Well yes, but I mean…this isn’t one of your temples, is it?”

“My temples? Nope, Ares brought you straight here when he found you.
Tucked you in himself. This is the House of Love.”

“So…this is…I mean…”

“Geez, Joxie, it’s not that big a deal.” She laughed but her tone was
gentle, and he smiled sheepishly in spite of his confusion. “We’re on
Olympus, alright. Not many mortals come up here, never know how they’re
gonna react. But I figured you were pretty safe, and I guess Ares did too.
Besides, you’ve just been in my guestroom the whole time.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Since yesterday. You’ve been asleep for almost a day, I guess the whole
thing with your dad took a lot out of you.” She stopped talking and bit her
lip, wringing her hands nervously as she turned to face him. “Joxie, I’m
sorry, I shouldn’t have just let you leave after I told you…”

“It’s not your fault,” he interrupted, guilt making him forget that
interrupting a god was never a good idea. He turned to look out the window
again, the heartache he’d managed to forget during his confusion rushing
back.

“We used to talk about Olympus,” he said half to himself. “When we were
kids, before…I guess I always loved him, but before I knew it we used to lie
in the grass and talk about everything. I always wondered if Olympus was
higher than the clouds. Timo…he used to say that someday we’d find a way to
see it together.”

“Did you guess right?” Aphrodite asked, smiling gently when he glanced at
her.

“Guess right?”

“About the clouds.”

“It’s funny,” he answered, returning her smile unconsciously. “It looks
exactly the way Timo always described it.”

Title: Woman's Work
Author/pseudonym: Caroline Crane
Fandom: X:WP
Paring: Ares/Joxer (also mention of Cupid/Strife, Xena/Gabrielle)
Rating: PG13
Status: new
Archive: sure, just let me know
E-mail address for feedback: caroline_crane@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: Part 6 of the Devotion series. This part follows Clouds of
Olympus. Other parts can be found on my web site.
Other websites: http://desiderium.slashcity.net/
Disclaimers: I do get paid to write this, but only by my job and they don't
know what they're paying me to write. So that doesn't really count.

Summary: Dite and Ares have a talk, Xena decides to take Joxer's advice,
and Dite and the boys come up with a plan.

Warnings: nope

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Aphrodite finally decided it was safe to leave Joxer alone in the House
of Love the first thing she did was head straight to her brother’s throne
room. She hadn’t put all the details together yet, but she had a pretty
good idea of why Ares had suddenly taken such an interest in Joxer’s life.
The big question was how far back her brother’s feelings for the mortal
went, and whether or not Ares was going to tell her himself or make her go
wade through the records in the Halls of Time. Of course she could always
send Strife to do her research for her, but it would make all their lives
easier if Ares just told her the truth. Besides, she had a feeling he’d
feel a lot better once he finally said it all out loud.

“Ares,” she called into the silence of the Halls of War, probing the
emptiness with her consciousness as she searched for her brother’s
signature. Just as she settled on Ares’ presence in his bedroom he shifted,
and a dizzying second later he appeared in front of her. She crossed her
arms over her chest and stuck out her bottom lip in a pout, doing her best
imitation of Ares’ formidable glare. “I hate it when you move while I’m
trying to find you, it makes my head spin.”

“You called me,” he reminded her, no quite managing to swallow a sigh as he
crossed to his throne and sank heavily onto the stone seat. “What do you
want?”

“I want to know how long you’re planning to let this go on.” She held up a
hand when he opened his mouth, effectively silencing Ares in a way few
people had ever witnessed. “Don’t even try to deny it, I know you too
well.”

"You don't know what you're talking about."

Aphrodite let out a weary sigh and crossed to Ares' throne, conjuring a
white love seat that looked more than a little out of place amid the black
and gray decor. She tucked her feet under her legs as she took a seat,
leaning on the armrest to gaze up at her brother. "I can see this is going
to take awhile. You know I can just go find out the truth in the Halls of
Time, so you might as well spill it. I think I've figured out most of it,
the only part I haven't worked out is how you hid from me that you were in
love. I mean really, bro, you could've come to me for help."

"I don't need any help," he growled, sparing a glance in her direction that
he hoped was more menacing than it felt. "There's nothing to tell, 'Dite.
Just be grateful I rescued your little mortal before he damaged himself
beyond even Asclepius' help."

"You didn't rescue Joxie on my account, and you can just forget about trying
to convince me otherwise. But if you won't tell me the truth that's fine.
I'll just go ask Joxer some more questions about his little friend Timo and
see if we can't get to the bottom of this." She stood up and turned her
back to Ares, not even flinching when the statue closest to her exploded
into a pile of rubble. "Temper, temper, Arry. Trash your place if you
want, but it's not going to make you feel any better and you know it."

Once she'd waved a hand and righted the statue she turned to face him again,
hands on her hips. "If you can't talk to me at least go talk to Joxie.
You've broken his heart twice now, don't you think that's enough for one
lifetime?"

"I didn't break his heart, he broke…" Ares stopped in mid-sentence and
snapped his jaw shut, eyes narrowing dangerously. "That was a dirty trick."

"I know, Strife's been hanging around a lot. Must be rubbing off." She
grinned unrepentantly and bounced across the room, looping her arm through
his and tugging him over to her loveseat. He muttered something under his
breath about pushy family members but let her pull him down next to her, his
elbows resting on his knees as he buried his head in his hands.

He tensed when Aphrodite reached out and began rubbing soothing circles on
his back, but he didn't try to blast her or anything so she took that as a
sign that he didn't really mind. "It's too late," he murmured roughly into
his hands, his voice muffled as he resolutely refused to look at her.

"It's never too late for true love, I should know." Aphrodite sighed and
pulled her hand away from his back to turn toward him, gently tugging on his
wrists until he uncovered his face and looked over at her. "It's not too
late, bro. You've got a captive audience, he's right there at my place with
nothing to do but stare at the walls and think about you. Only he thinks
you're dead, and that's not fair to either of you."

"It's the only way." His voice was still rough and she could tell he was
trying not to show how miserable he was, but she knew him better than almost
anyone and she knew how hard it was for him not to flash into her temple,
grab Joxer in his arms, and take him away somewhere where no one would ever
be able to hurt either of them again. The love goddess in her cheered at
that notion, but the sister felt every ounce of his heartbreak and fear.

"He'll understand, Ar. You just sit him down and you explain to him how it
happened. You just start at the beginning and you make him understand.
I'll help you."

Ares closed his eyes to shut out the pity that was clear in his sister’s
expression. He couldn't stand for anyone to look at him that way, and
coming from the person he'd always been closest to it was even harder to
take. Pity was something no one had ever wasted on War, and there was a
good reason for that. He couldn't afford to have people feeling sorry for
him, to know his vulnerabilities and use them against him. For most of his
existence he hadn't had a vulnerability for anyone to take advantage of, and
for the past fifteen years he'd kept his one dark secret carefully guarded
from the world. He should have known Aphrodite would guess, he should have
taken steps to make sure she didn't link him to Timo in any way.

What could he have done in the end, though, aside from standing by and
letting Joxer's father have his son killed? Just the thought of that made
his heart clench painfully in his chest, and he found himself breathless and
blinking back tears for the first time since he found that note in the woods
fifteen years ago. "No," he ground out between clenched teeth, standing up
and pulling away from Aphrodite a little more aggressively than he needed
to. "It's done. He can't ever know, Dite. He won't understand."

"If there's one thing Joxer is, it's understanding. And talk about
forgiving - look at what he puts up with from Xena and that nitwit friend of
hers. Not to mention the embarrassment he suffers just because he's not a
great fighter like Herc the Jerk. Joxie's a lover, and he's the most
understanding guy on that whole miserable planet. So don't blame this on
him, because you know I'm not buying it."

He let out a frustrated sigh and turned his back on her, crossing his arms
over his chest as he stared at the wall across from him. Smashing the
statue hadn't done anything to make him feel better, but even though he knew
that part of him felt like destroying everything that had the misfortune to
cross his path. He couldn't lash out at the situation, but that didn't stop
him from wanting to lash out at everything and everyone that dared to look
at him.

The worst part was that he knew she was right. Joxer was the most gentle,
understanding person he'd ever met, and he'd known a lot of gods and mortals
in the centuries since he'd come into existence. The chances of even Joxer
understanding why Ares had lied to him all those years ago, though…the risk
was just too great, he'd already lost Joxer once and he wasn't sure he could
stand to lose him again. "It's too late," he whispered, more to himself
than to his sister. "There have been too many lies."

"Maybe." She shrugged when he turned to glare at her again and closed the
distance between them, laying an elegant hand on his strong arm and resting
her head on his shoulder. "But maybe it's not. You don't know until you
try, bro. And if you don't Joxie's gonna spend the rest of his life
miserable, thinking the love of his life is dead."

"The love of his life never even existed." The words sounded bitter, and
even Ares was surprised to hear the misery ringing clear in his voice.

"You're real, Ares. So you go by a different name now, what's the big
deal?" She grinning hopefully up at him, laughing when he shook his head
and tried not to smile back at her. "See, it's not so bad."

As soon as she said it his smile faded, but he pulled away more gently this
time, crossing the room to throw himself down on his throne again. "This
isn't one of your spells, Dite. You can't just wave your hand and clean up
the mess."

"Actually…" She stopped when he narrowed his eyes at her, holding her hands
up in surrender. "Okay, okay, no helping. It's not like I can give him a
little nudge anyway, he's already so far gone over you that I could work off
his energy alone for weeks. I mean he doesn't know it's you, but you
know what I mean. I could kind of give him a few hints, though, sort of
push him in the right direction. Kind of open him up to the idea that maybe
his little friend wasn't exactly what he appeared to be…"

"Dite."

She stopped talking abruptly at the sound of her name, letting out an
indignant huff when he shook his head at her. "Fine. Just answer one
question for me then."

He rolled his eyes and did his best to look put out, sprawling a little
lower in his throne as he waited for her to ask whatever she was going to
ask. "What?"

"How'd all this get started? I mean it's not like Joxie's usually your
type."

Ares closed his eyes and leaned back against the cool, soothing stone
supporting his back, realizing for the first time what mortals must mean
when they talked about 'having a headache'. The question was a lot easier
to answer than some other questions she could have asked, though, so after a
moment he forced his eyes open and looked at her again.

"He was just a child when I first noticed him. He came to my temple, I
assume to run away from that miserable excuse for a father of his. My
priest laughed at him and tossed him out, of course - who could blame him,
really, he was such a tiny little thing. His clothes just hung there on him
as though there was nothing to him, he was all skin and bones and crazy
angles. A lot like Strife, only without the lunatic edge."

He stopped long enough to grin at the physical similarities between
ten-year-old Joxer and his nephew, glancing at Aphrodite long enough to see
that she was smiling too before he continued. "Mostly I was just curious
what a kid his age would want with a Temple of War, but I figured if I
appeared before him as myself I'd just frighten the daylights out of him.
So I disguised myself as a child and spoke to him. It was his bravery that
struck me first, then his intelligence and later his sheer joy in life
despite the miserable conditions he grew up in. I started keeping an eye
out for him and whenever he showed up at my temple I'd go visit him. At
first I told myself I was just keeping an eye on him, that he needed someone
to look after him."

When he paused again his eyes took on a far-off cast, as though he was
seeing some memory that was just a little more vivid than the others. "I
didn't even know I'd fallen in love with him until he kissed me the first
time. It was so clumsy and awkward, but coming from him it was so honest
that it took me completely by surprise. He was fourteen. Too young, and I
knew I should have walked away then but I couldn't bring myself to abandon
him. I'd known him for four years, he'd become my whole reason for being
and I never realized it until it was too late. For all he knew I was as
young and inexperienced as he was, and I let him believe it. How is he
going to forgive that?"

Dite felt his heartbreak from halfway across the room, but she knew it
wouldn't do her any good to go to him. There was only one person that could
heal the years of blame and torture he'd put himself through, and nothing
could make Ares tell Joxer the truth except his own conscience. She could
tell Joxer himself but she knew that would just make things worse, and she
loved them both too much to give them that kind of pain on top of everything
else they'd suffered.

Instead of answering she crossed the room, stopping next to his throne and
leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. She knew he'd feel the
healing spell she sent along with the kiss, but with any luck he wouldn't
mind so much. It wouldn't take away all his pain; nothing could do that,
but it would ease his heartache just a little. At least long enough for her
to figure out a way to fix this for both of them, because she was fairly
certain now that they weren't going to fix it for themselves.

~

Xena poked idly at the fire, watching smoke rise in lazy wisps without
really focusing on her surroundings. She'd barely noticed the last fingers
of sunlight sinking below the horizon as she sat and brooded in silence, her
head too filled with worries about Joxer to focus on anything around her.
Even Gabrielle was unusually quiet; she'd given up wondering aloud where
Joxer had gotten to the day before, and now she was taking her lead from
Xena's uneasy silence.

It wasn't really fair of her to make her companion so uncomfortable; after
all, if Gabrielle's way of dealing with her worry over Joxer was to talk
about it then Xena should at least pretend to listen. She couldn't bring
herself to start a conversation, though, and when Gabrielle took a seat on
the bedroll next to hers she barely glanced up from the fire.

"Do you think he's really in trouble?"

The sound of the voice she'd grown so used to over the past few years sent a
wave of guilt through Xena, and she sighed and looked over at her best
friend. "I don't know, Gabrielle. I hope not. There's something going on
with him, though, I can feel it. First the nightmares, then Cupid and
Strife showed up looking for him a few days before he disappeared."

"Cupid and Strife? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were asleep," Xena answered, wincing at the vaguely accusatory tone in
the other woman's voice. "I didn't think anything of it at the time, they
said something about Dite. You know how she's always fawning over Joxer, I
figured it was just the gods being bored. When they never came back I
forgot about it, but now I wonder if they knew something."

"Can't you just ask them? I mean Cupid's your brother, sort of."

Xena smiled at Gabrielle's brief expression of distaste, finally relaxing a
little for the first time since Joxer disappeared. "I guess I was hoping
we'd have found him by now so I wouldn't have to ask them."

Gabrielle nodded her understanding, and Xena found herself grateful all over
again that her friend knew her so well. It was refreshing not to have to
explain why she didn't like having to summon any of the immortal members of
her family; it was still difficult to accept that she was Ares' daughter and
acknowledging her connection to the gods made her uncomfortable.

"So you think Joxer's disappearance has something to do with his
nightmares?"

"I'm not sure. But when he woke up that morning he said something to
me…something about not wasting opportunities. He said the dream was about
someone he hadn't thought of in a long time, then he said I shouldn't pass
up my chance at happiness."

"What did he mean by that?"

Xena was grateful for the darkness so Gabrielle wouldn't see her blush as
she forced herself to meet the other woman's gaze. She could have told
herself she was imagining the barely disguised hope shining in her friend's
eyes, but she'd known Gabrielle long enough to know that she wore her
emotions on her sleeve. Before she could stop herself and remind herself of
all the reasons this was a bad idea she found herself leaning forward,
Gabrielle’s breath warming her cheek as she inched even closer.

The moment their lips brushed a sigh registered in the darkness; at first
Xena thought it came from Gabrielle, but when she felt the tell-tale tension
that came along with the presence of one of her family members she let out a
growl and pulled away. As soon as she looked up she found herself staring
back at Cupid, a mischievous grin lighting up his features.

"You've been spending too much time with Strife," she ground out through
clenched teeth.

"I heard that." A second after the voice rang out Strife stepped out of the
darkness, grinning maniacally at the couple huddled together in front of the
fire. "Ya make it sound like a bad thing, cuz."

She rolled her eyes, ignoring Strife's mock-pout as she turned her attention
back to the more sane of the pair. "I can't believe I'm actually saying
this, but I'm glad to see you. Do either of you have any idea what happened
to Joxer? He was traveling with us and a few days ago he just vanished.
We've looked for him everywhere but no one's seen him."

"That's why we're here," Cupid answered. He cast a meaningfully glance at
the shell-shocked blonde still sitting next to Xena, for once stunned into
speechlessness. "Sorry about the timing. Glad to see you two finally got
it together, though. Mom and I were starting to give up hope."

"What was it you were saying about Joxer?" Xena asked, her tone letting him
know that her love life was strictly off limits, and if he didn't drop it
she was going to do her best to make him regret it.

Cupid chuckled fondly at the almost-threat and let out a dramatic sigh.
"Fine, fine, don't want my help. I'm only your brother, not to mention a
professional…" He trailed off and glanced over at her, his shoulders
slumping when he realized she wasn't going to budge. "Okay, okay. Mom sent
me to tell you not to worry about Joxer. He's with her."

When Xena opened her mouth to protest he held up a hand, effectively
silencing her with a earnest look that she rarely saw on the god of love.
She knew he wasn't as big an airhead as everyone made him out to be, but it
was rare to see her brother serious so she knew when to back down and let
him have his say.

"He's going through some…stuff. I don't think I should tell you what, it's
kinda his place to decide if he wants you to know. But he's okay, Mom just
thought he could use a little R&R." At Xena's blank look he rolled his eyes
and glanced at Strife, the two gods shaking their heads in unison before
they turned back to her.

"Ya know, R&R. Rest, relaxation…geez, cuz, ya work too hard. Bet ya could
use a little vacation yerself. Sure ya don't wanna come back with us? Jox
could stand the company while we're all workin', and I bet Unc'd be glad ta
see ya. Not so sure 'bout her, though." Strife glanced pointedly at
Gabrielle, smirking when she snapped out of her shock long enough to glare
at him.

"So Joxer's on…vacation. On Olympus."

"Yeah." Cupid shrugged as though that sort of thing happened every day.
Olympus did seem like a great place to get away from it all, but Xena was
pretty sure they weren't going to start selling vacation packages to the
homes of the gods any time soon. "We'll bring him back safe and sound when
he's ready."

"I have your word that he's not being harmed?"

A heavy sigh escaped Cupid's throat as he took a few steps closer to the
fire. "Come on, Xena, you know you can trust us. Nobody wants to hurt the
guy."

Xena nodded, suddenly feeling a little sheepish for accusing her family of
having ulterior motives while they were trying to help her friend. "As long
as he's there of his own free will."

"Totally his decision. Mom’ll bring him back when he’s ready.” He turned
as though he was going to leave, then thought better of it and looked at his
sister again. “One more thing. I'm supposed to thank you for looking out
for Jox all this time. Mom says you've been a real good friend to him, and
since he's one of her special projects she wants you to know she appreciates
it."

"He's our friend," Xena said, her forehead furrowed as she wondered why the
gods had suddenly taken such an interest in Joxer. She knew even if she
asked she wouldn't get a straight answer, though, so she was going to have
to be content with the knowledge that Joxer was safe and ask him for details
when he got back.

"Yeah, well that doesn't mean as much to some people as you'd think." Cupid
smiled grimly, settling back into the arm that Strife slung around his
shoulders. "Mom's calling, I better go see what she wants. See ya, sis."

When Cupid and Strife rematerialized in the Halls of Love they found
Aphrodite pacing again, one hand pressed against her lips as she muttered to
herself. It was such an unusual picture that for a moment they just stood
there and watched her pace, but finally she looked up and started when she
realized she wasn't alone anymore.

"Geez, Cupe, don't sneak up on a girl like that. I swear Strife's rubbing
off on you."

"That's the idea, Aunt 'Dite," Strife said, grinning as Cupid chuckled and
wrapped an arm around his waist.

She dismissed the joke with an absent wave of her hand, glancing down the
hall in the direction of her guestrooms before she turned back to the two
younger gods. "Did you see Xena?"

"Yeah. I feel kinda bad, we showed up right when she was about to plant one
on Blondie finally. From the rush I got I could tell it was their first
kiss, too."

For a moment Aphrodite's eyes lit up, and Cupid grinned as he watched his
mother pick up on the residual energy. "I thought I felt something. Well
good for them, it's nice to see things working out for somebody."

"Jox still brooding about his lost love?"

"Ya know, Aunt 'Dite," Strife interjected before his aunt got a chance to
answer, "I been thinkin' 'bout that, and I don't think this Timo kid's near
as dead as Unc wants us ta believe. I don't think he's near as mortal as
Unc wants us ta believe, either."

Cupid frowned at first his cousin, then his mother as her eyes lit up and
she swooped down on the dark-haired god. She grabbed Strife, pulling him
away from Cupid long enough to plant a resounding kiss on his cheek. "I
knew you were smarter than everybody gave you credit for," she said, her
hands on Strife's cheeks as she grinned back at him. When she released him
again he took an involuntary step backwards, and Cupid had to catch him
around the waist to keep him from losing his balance. He made a mental note
to find out who'd been calling his lover dumb and make sure they regretted
it; he was the son of War, after all, and no matter what his own godhood
entailed he wasn't going to let anybody talk about Strife that way.

"Am I missing something?" he asked when he was sure Strife was over the
shock of Aphrodite's sudden burst of pride.

"We've all been missing something, Cupe," his mother answered, her eyes
still shining as she stole another glance over her shoulder and dropped her
voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Now here's what we're going to do to
fix it…"

Title: Answered Prayers
Author/pseudonym: Caroline Crane
Fandom: X:WP
Pairing: Joxer/Ares
Rating: PG13
Status: new
Archive: yes to list archives
E-mail address for feedback: caroline_crane@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: Part 7 of my Devotion series. Follows "Woman's Work". Past
chapters can be found on my site.
Other websites: http://desiderium.slashcity.net/

Summary: Dite gives Ares the right kind of shove in a certain direction.

Warnings: no

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As it turned out all of Aphrodite’s plotting was a waste of time, because in
the end Ares came to her on his own. He didn’t come looking for advice or
to tell her she was right; that was far more than she could hope for, and
anyway if Ares ever admitted he was wrong it probably would have unbalanced
the forces of nature or something. When he did make an appearance in her
temple it was mostly to skulk around looking moody, mumbling some lame
excuse about not being able to find Strife. Considering the way Ares had
been acting lately she was pretty sure Strife was in hiding, but if he was
going to hide from Ares he wouldn’t do it in the first place Ares was bound
to look.

She wasn’t about to point that out to him, though, because the last thing
she wanted him to do was leave. So instead of mentioning that Strife was
probably as far from Olympus as he could get she just waved distractedly in
the direction of her guest rooms. “Maybe he’s with Joxer. They’ve been
spending a lot of time together lately.”

“He’s still here?”

Aphrodite let out the most put-upon sigh she could manage while she was
trying not to smile. “Of course he’s still here, bro. What’d you think,
I’d just toss him out the first chance I got? Poor Joxie, it’s going to
take a long time to mend his broken heart. You know he’s feeling guilty
about his father now too.”

“What? Why?”

“He wasn’t really expecting you to show up and kill the guy, Ares.
Personally I think he was just looking for a way to get himself killed.
Seeing as he thinks the love of his life is wandering around down in
Tartarus somewhere. He’s dropped a few hints about Hades already. What am
I supposed to tell him?”

“Tell him to get over it and send him back to Xena.”

She rolled her eyes and planted her hands firmly on her hips, finally
looking up from the scrolls she’d been pretending to work on. “I’m not
going to send him back there just so he can try to kill himself some more.
Who’s going to save him next time? One of the Hero Brigade? If you’d just
go talk to him…”

“No.”

“Look, I’m not asking you to spill all your deep, dark secrets. Just go
make him feel a little better about his dad. Tell him the old goat had it
coming or something. I don’t care what you tell him, just make him stop
beating himself up about getting the guy killed.” Ares sighed and she could
see his resolve faltering a little. She almost hated to do it, but she knew
the best way to push him those last few steps over the edge. “Fine, if you
want to pout and mope around like something that crawled out of Tartarus go
do it somewhere else. I’ll get Strife to talk to Joxie, they seem to have a
lot in common.”

“He wouldn’t…Cupid would kill him.”

“Geez, bro, I didn’t say they were getting it on. Although if it did come
to that Cupid would understand. He knows all about how comfort sex works.”

It had always amused her that whenever Ares got really mad the vein in his
forehead would throb just the way a human’s would, but it had never been
quite as endearing as it was when Ares was jealous. She could see him
struggling not to lose his temper, and she knew the only reason he cared was
because he didn’t want her to know how much the thought of Joxer moving on
bothered him. The fact that he still thought after all these years that he
could pull anything over on Love…she shook her head and let out a frustrated
sigh.

“Fine, if it’s that important to you I’ll check if he’s here.” She bit her
lip and pretended to concentrate for a few seconds before shaking her head
and trying her best to look serious. “Nope, Joxie’s out in the garden all
by his lonesome. Poor guy, I can feel the heartbreak from here. If you see
Strife send him over, would ya? And here I never thought I’d have a use for
Mischief.”

Ares’ dark eyes narrowed momentarily, and she had to struggle not to laugh
at the expression she knew was supposed to make mortals quake with fear.
She was probably going to catch hell from Cupid and Strife once Ares got
done with their nephew, but it would be worth it if she could make her
brother jealous enough to take that first step. She was positive if he just
talked to Joxer the whole truth would come tumbling out eventually; nobody
could be around someone as miserable as Joxer and not want to do anything
just to take the pain away.

For a second she thought he might argue with her some more, but a moment
later he let out a growl and disappeared. She blinked at the spot where
he’d been standing, ignoring the rude departure in favor of searching her
temple for his signature. When she felt a shield go up in her garden she
smiled to herself and settled back down at her table, picking up the scroll
she’d abandoned when Ares showed up and humming to herself as she got back
to work.

~

Ares was almost positive that Aphrodite had been lying about Strife and
Joxer. Granted he hadn’t seen much of his nephew recently, but he knew how
attached he and Cupid were to each other. So there was no way Strife was
doing the House of Love’s dirty work for them. Comfort sex…the thought made
him shudder in a very ungodly way, and he stopped just inside the garden to
collect himself before he searched for Joxer.

He wasn’t even sure what he was doing out there, it wasn’t like he had a
speech planned or anything. He didn’t know how he was supposed to explain
why he’d killed Joxer’s father without making him feel worse, or at least
making him think that Ares was some kind of monster. Not that he’d really
killed Joxer’s father; he’d left that to Strife, but technically he’d given
the order so that made him responsible. How did you explain to someone why
you’d had their father killed? He didn’t have experience at this kind of
thing, and he certainly wasn’t used to having to explain his behavior to
mortals. He was War, and that was usually enough of a reason for anyone.

He was still contemplating his sudden need to justify his behavior to Joxer
when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye, tensing
instantly as he watched the mortal wander into view. He hadn’t spotted Ares
yet, and considering that his eyes were trained on the ground in front of
him Ares had a feeling he might not notice if an entire band of warlords
rode through the garden. For a long moment he stood as still as possible
and watched Joxer, the movements of the man’s shoulders and legs as he
walked so familiar that Ares ached to reach out and touch him. It seemed
like the most natural thing in the world, to cross the garden and pull Joxer
into his arms. Part of him could almost believe that that was all it would
take, that he wouldn’t need any other explanation. Just a touch and Joxer
would know, and everything would be the way it should have been all these
years.

It was an irrational hope, but he couldn’t help wishing that it could be
that simple. If he thought he could get away with turning back time without
creating a major incident on Olympus and Earth…but it wouldn’t do him any
good because in the end Joxer still would have left home at sixteen, and
Ares still wouldn’t have been able to go after a child and confess the
truth. Not that he was really a child at that point, but he was close
enough to one to stop Ares from trying to make him understand. The only
thing he could do was try to keep him safe and make sure Joxer never found
out the truth, and that was what he still had to do.

He didn’t realize Joxer had spotted him until the other man cleared his
throat, and Ares flinched as he realized he’d been staring without seeing
what was right in front of him. “Ares…I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…I can go
if you want to be alone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ares answered, the gruffness of his tone making him
flinch again. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and did his best
to bring his voice down to a less-than-terrifying level. “I was looking for
you.”

“Me?”

If he’d been anyone besides War, Ares wouldn’t have fought the urge to smile
at the barely audible squeak. It should have hurt that Joxer was afraid of
him, but instead he just found it endearing. It reminded him a little of
that first awkward, sloppy kiss in the woods, and he felt something tug so
sharply at his heart that part of him expected to see it pull right out of
his chest.

“Who else would I be looking for? Unless you’ve seen that idiot nephew of
mine.” He didn’t miss the dangerous tone that crept back into his voice,
but at Joxer’s blank stare he found himself relaxing. “I came to see how
you were doing.”

“How I’m…? Oh.” Realization dawned on Joxer’s face and his eyes clouded
for a moment, but whatever emotion was troubling him he pushed roughly aside
as soon as it surfaced. “I’ve wanted to thank you, but I’m not sure how
traveling works up here and I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were
busy with a war or something. I thought about asking Aphrodite but she
seems so busy too, and anyway…I hope you’re not upset with me for waiting so
long.”

It took a few seconds for Ares to sort out the stammered explanation, but at
the end of it he came to the conclusion that Joxer was apologizing for not
coming to him. He assumed one of his meddling family members had told Joxer
that it was Ares who stopped his father’s man from literally squeezing the
life out of him, that was the only explanation he could come up with for
Joxer feeling like he owed Ares a debt of gratitude. "I'm not upset with
you, Joxer."

Familiar brown eyes widened a little in surprise, as though Joxer hadn't
really believed that Ares knew who he was talking to until he said his name.
It was harder than he'd realized to see the obvious fear in Joxer's eyes,
to know that this man that meant everything to him didn't even know who he
was. He'd been so careful to ignore Joxer in the past, to pretend he wasn't
even there the few times when Ares had had to face Xena while Joxer was with
her. It hadn't been that hard while his daughter was there, because Xena
was the last person he wanted to show weakness to. To find himself alone
with Joxer for the first time in fifteen years, knowing that Joxer didn't
even suspect that Ares knew him…it was harder than he'd ever imagined it
would be.

He cleared his throat and looked away, swallowing hard against the strange
urge to just pour out the entire story. He knew he could make Joxer listen,
that even if Joxer didn't believe him he'd listen to the whole story. He'd
have to, because he was at the mercy of the gods while he was on Olympus.
And right now he was completely at Ares' mercy because of the shield he'd
put up over Dite's garden, so there was nowhere for him to go until Ares was
ready to let him.

But Ares had already harmed him enough for one lifetime, and he couldn't
visit more pain on Joxer now because of his own selfish need to hold onto
the past. He knew better than to let himself fall in love with a mortal,
he'd seen the kind of damage it could do and he'd told himself years ago
that it was over. And it was - he just had to make sure that Joxer wasn't
going to do anything stupid like toss himself off a cliff or throw himself
in front of the first available sword in some misguided effort to reunite
himself with Timo.

"Dite tells me you blame yourself for your father's death. You realize how
presumptuous it is to question the will of the gods, don't you?"

"Yes, well…I mean…but if it hadn't been for me…" Joxer stammered, his face
growing an ever more alarming shade of red as he searched desperately for an
end to his sentence. The whole time he was silently chanting a prayer that
Ares could hear over and over in his head: *Don't kill me, please don't
kill me…* Ares stroked a hand over his beard to hide his smile, clearing
his throat again in an effort not to laugh.

"So you don't wish to die after all."

Again those brown eyes grew wide with fear and disbelief, and it was all
Ares could do not to reach out and stroke his fingers over pale skin. He
knew he could, that he could ask anything of Joxer and it would be given to
him. It wasn't as though War had to go around explaining his whims to mere
mortals, but he didn't want Joxer that way. He never wanted Joxer to give
himself to anyone in anything other than an act of free will, least of all
to sacrifice himself for the pleasure of a fickle god.

"How did you…?"

"You're dedicated to me, I hear your prayers." The answer was simple and
close enough to the truth for Joxer to accept it, his cheeks flushing again
as he nodded. "As for your father, he was a disloyal servant of War and he
was dealt with accordingly. The timing was…merely convenient."

The skeptical look returned at that, but he didn't say anything and Ares
wasn't willing to peek into his thoughts uninvited. He told himself it
wasn't fair to read Joxer's mind when he already had him at a disadvantage,
but if he'd been honest with himself he would have had to admit that part of
him didn't want to know what Joxer really thought of him. He was terrified
to find out that Joxer's fear and distrust of him was more than the result
of listening to Xena over the years, he didn't know what it would do to him
to have concrete proof that Joxer held him in the same disdain as his own
daughter.

"Thank you, Ares," Joxer said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the
garden. "For saving my life."

"And yet you wouldn't have had it saved," Ares finished for him, pursing his
lips in an effort to hold back his anger at the thought of Joxer throwing
his life away. "What could be so horrible that you'd throw your life away
on someone like your father?"

"He cost me something…something I can never replace," Joxer answered without
missing a beat. The fear in his eyes was gone again, replaced by a longing
so palpable that Ares was sure he could reach out and touch it if he dared.

"You would die for a possession?"

"Not for a thing. For love."

His expression was so earnest, so brave and unwavering that Ares wasn't sure
whether to laugh or pull him close or just shake him until his brain rattled
so hard in his skull that he forgot all about his quest to get himself
killed over a memory. The situation seemed suddenly so unfair, so miserably
hopeless that he wished he hadn't come to find Joxer. He wished he'd left
him to his death wish, or to Strife if his nephew really wanted him.
Anything would be better than this, to have Joxer stand in front of him and
say with conviction that he'd rather die than live without a boy who had
never even existed.

"You'd die for love. So tell me, Joxer the Mighty, who is this great love
that you'd spend eternity searching through Tartarus for rather than living
out your mortal life?"

"You might remember him," Joxer answered, and the look in his eyes made
Ares' breath catch in his throat. For just a second he was almost sure that
Joxer knew, that he'd guessed Ares' secret and he was just waiting for the
right moment to let him know. It was impossible, though - unless Dite had
told him there was no way he could know. "Aphrodite says he used to work in
one of your temples. An orphan named Timo, he served in your temple not far
from my father's house."

Ares nodded slowly, not trusting his voice not to betray him. He'd been
almost sure that Joxer was about to tell him that he knew, and Ares could
stop pretending and get out of his sight. "I remember," he said when he
thought he could talk again without choking on the words. "He was a
faithful servant."

"He was the best friend anyone could ask for. He didn't deserve…" Joxer's
voice broke and he trailed off, biting his lip and looking away from Ares.
The only thing that betrayed the sudden rush of emotions was an almost
imperceptible shaking of his shoulders, but it was enough to make Ares want
to go to him and hold him until Joxer forgot what he'd lost. That could
never happen, though, so he held his ground and crossed his arms a little
more tightly over his chest.

"What does a murdered servant have to do with your father?"

"I was young when we met. Ten years old, right outside your temple. We met
for years in secret, but finally even my father noticed that I was sneaking
away more often than I could account for. He had my brother follow me and
he saw us together. He said he'd kill Timo unless I stopped seeing him. He
beat me so badly that I couldn't walk for days, but as soon as I could stand
on my own I left. I thought it would keep him safe, but now I know that I
cost him his life anyway."

Ares didn't realize he was shaking his head until Joxer stopped talking and
stared at him, curiosity shining clear in his eyes. He had to be wondering
why Ares was so interested in a mortal's first love, and he looked a little
embarrassed at having spilled the whole story in one rush of breath. All
Ares could focus on was the idea of Joxer beaten so badly that he could
barely move, and still somehow finding the strength to leave that note. All
these years he'd been so wrong; he'd told himself not going after Joxer was
the right thing to do, and now he knew that he'd been lying to himself all
along. "It wasn't your fault," Ares said softly. "He was killed by
thieves. It had nothing to do with you."

"How do you know?" Joxer asked, his voice tight with pain as he clung to the
shred of hope that Ares was offering him.

Ares had instigated hundreds of thousands of battles over the course of his
godhood; he'd seen men die by his hand and at the hands of his followers.
He'd seen needless death and death that served the greater good of Greece as
a whole, and he'd lost countless loyal warlords and see the deaths of
countless innocents. In all that time he'd always known that he was doing
his job, that the grief was justified because in the end it would make
Greece a stronger nation. And in all that time he'd never let himself feel
any of those losses. The only loss he'd ever felt in his heart was the loss
of a sixteen-year-old boy that had loved him without knowing who he was or
any of the things he could offer, and maybe that was why he'd never stopped
feeling it once he started.

"Joxer, I…" He froze for a moment, paralyzed with the need to tell Joxer
the truth. It would be so easy to just say it, even if he had to close his
eyes to get it all out. He wouldn't even have to say much, just a simple
'it was me'. 'It was me, I'm him. I'm Timo,' just like that and it would
all be out in the open. There would be explanations, of course, maybe some
tears and some blame. But in the end maybe…he shook his head to chase the
thought away, telling himself he couldn't be that selfish. He couldn't make
Joxer suffer more by shattering the memory of what they'd had, taking away
all Joxer had left of the boy he'd loved. "I have to go, I have some
business to attend to," he finally said.

"Of course," Joxer answered automatically, but the disappointment and
confusion in his eyes stung Ares as surely as if he'd slapped him. He knew
Joxer had been hoping for an answer to the question, an explanation that
would at least assuage a little of the guilt he felt. But Ares couldn't
give him that, he couldn't give him anything anymore except the peace of
finally putting his past behind him.

"It had nothing to do with you," he heard himself repeat. He didn't even
realize he'd moved until he stopped in front of Joxer, reaching out before
he could talk himself out of it and curling the fingers of one strong hand
around the smaller man's cheek. He let his thumb rub absently at the warm
skin stretched over his cheekbone, nostalgia washing over him in a wave so
strong that he had to pull his hand back before he lost his mind and did
something else he'd regret. "We'll speak again."

He flashed out of the garden without waiting for an answer, dropping the
shield as he went. He reappeared in his own throne room, nearly collapsing
into his throne to stare down at his hands. They were shaking so hard he
wondered idly if they'd shake right off; he'd never seen his hands do
anything so strange, he'd never heard of any god having such a human
reaction to emotion. But his hands were still shaking, no matter how hard
he focused on trying to make them stop. Finally he slumped back into his
throne and buried his head in his hands, willing the memory of Joxer out of
his mind.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't erase the image of those dark eyes
staring up at him with such a mixture of fear, awe and hope, and somehow an
older, far dearer memory of much younger eyes full of love got mixed in.
After awhile he found that he couldn't separate the Joxer he'd spoken to in
his sister's garden from the child he'd watched grow into a man, so he gave
up trying and just let all the memories wash over him. He had no idea how
much time passed before he pulled his hands away from his face, frowning
down at his palms as if seeing them for the first time. They'd stopped
shaking but they were wet now, and when he reached up and touched his face
he realized that it was streaked with tears.

“I could kill yer mom fer this.”

“I know, but she does kind of have a point. I mean it is almost
believable.”

“What? Me an’ Jox or the part where I cheat on ya?”

“Come on, Strife, I know you wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“Yeah, but Unc obviously don’t.”

“Yes he does. He’s just a little crazy right now, that’s all.”

Strife frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but when he caught a glimpse
of black out of the corner of his eye he flinched and nudged Cupid with an
elbow. “Shut up, here he comes.”

Cupid looked up just in time to watch Ares stride into the room, covered
head to toe in what looked like a mixture of dirt and blood. “Dad? You
okay?”

“What? Oh.” Ares glanced down at his clothes as if realizing for the first
time what he looked like. “I was overseeing a battle.”

It looked more like Ares had single-handedly taken on an entire army, but
Cupid decided not to comment. Instead he cleared his throat and raised his
eyebrows in Strife’s direction. The younger god scowled briefly, then
rolled his eyes and ventured a glance at his uncle.

“So, Unc, Jox says ya talked ta him yesterday. Seemed like ya cheered him
up a little.”

Cupid leaned forward in his seat and raised his eyebrows at Strife. It was
hard to stop himself from glancing over at his father to see his reaction to
the mention of Joxer's name, but he knew if they wanted to look convincing
he was going to have to play his part. "You saw Joxer again? When?"

"Just for a coupla minutes this mornin'. What? I was looking fer ya at yer
mom's place an' there he was."

"How much longer is Mom gonna keep him, anyway?"

"Geez, Cupe, he's not a dog. The guy could use a friend is all."

If Cupid didn't know better he would have sworn Strife was really mad at
him, but he told himself that was a good thing. His father wasn't stupid,
after all, and if they were going to make Ares jealous enough to do
something they had to make it believable. "Well if he likes hanging out
with Dad so much maybe he should be Joxer's new best friend."

He couldn't see his father from where he was sitting, but judging from the
look on Strife's face it was working. Strife looked a little scared,
anyway, which meant Ares was at least listening to their conversation.
"Yeah, like Unc's gonna go hang out with Jox. Come on, Cupe, he's got
better things ta do than hang around some mortal."

"Like what?"

Cupid didn't hear Ares move; in fact he wasn't entirely sure his father was
even listening to them until Ares had hauled Strife out of his seat by an
ear. "The work you've been neglecting, for one thing," Ares growled,
scowling at Strife as his nephew winced and tried not to struggle against
the firm grip on his ear. "You'd do well to spend less time meddling in the
affairs of mortals and more time paying attention to your duties, nephew."

"Ow, ow, okay, okay, I got it, Unc," Strife answered, clapping a hand over
his injured ear when Ares let him go. He moved backwards as quickly as
possible, stumbling a little when he collided with Cupid's solid chest.
"Geez, ya try ta be a nice guy fer once…"

"Strife," Cupid interrupted, his voice low so Ares wouldn't overhear him.
"I think we should quit while we're ahead."

"But yer mom said…"

Cupid stole another glance at his father, his grip on Strife tightening
reflexively as he felt the jealousy radiating off his father. "Trust me,
we've done as much as we can." He cleared his throat a little louder than
necessary, barely managing to hold back a wince when Ares swung toward them
again. "We're…uh… gonna go get started on that work now. See you later,
Dad."

He flashed them both out of Ares' temple before his father had a chance to
answer, letting out a shudder when they found themselves safely back in his
bedroom. He'd seen his father more furious than that before, but he'd never
felt that kind of jealousy from Ares. His father's anger was always the
carefully controlled kind, the type of anger that Ares could channel into
his line of work. Jealousy was one of those unfocused, uncontrollable
emotions, and on his father it was a little more terrifying than usual.

"Cupe? Ya think that was too much?"

He looked up at the sound of Strife's voice, shrugging and hoping he didn't
look as worried as he felt. "I don't know. I guess Mom knows what she's
doing."

"I sure hope so, 'cause if not I think Unc might kill me first chance he
gets."

Cupid knew Strife was only half-kidding, and he took a few steps forward to
put his arms around the younger god. "He'll work it out. The whole point
is to get him to spend some more time with Joxer, right? And if jealousy
doesn't do it I don't know what else will."

Strife didn't look any more convinced than he did, but Aphrodite had been
doing this a lot longer than both of them, and she knew Ares better than
probably anybody else on Olympus or Earth. So if she said this was the best
way to get Ares to do something about his love life they had to trust her.

~

Joxer shook his head for what felt like the thousandth time that morning,
smiling when he found himself wondering if he could do permanent damage by
jostling his brain so much. He'd been wandering through Aphrodite's gardens
for most of the morning, replaying the events of the day before in his mind.
He'd been over and over the brief conversation with Ares, and he still
hadn't come up with a satisfactory explanation as to why the god of War
would be interested in his well-being. He'd asked Aphrodite about it, and
when she'd given him a vague answer and then changed the subject he'd asked
Strife. When he got the same brush-off from the god of Mischief he knew he
was missing something, but he knew he wasn't going to get a straight answer
out of anyone on Olympus.

He still hadn't figured out what he was still doing on Olympus, but he
wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that question because most of
the time he didn't want to go home. Whenever he thought about Xena and
Gabrielle he felt a little guilty for worrying them, but the fact was that
being on Olympus made him feel better. He had a feeling it had something to
do with being inside the actual House of Love, but whatever the reason he
didn't want to give it up. He never wanted to feel as empty as he had when
Aphrodite told him that Timo was dead, and as long as he stayed within
Love's walls the pain was almost bearable.

Of course the only people he ever saw were Aphrodite, Strife and
occasionally Cupid. Well, there was Ares now, too, but Joxer wasn't holding
out hope that he'd see the god of War again. Ares had nothing to do with
the House of Love, and now that he'd satisfied himself that Joxer was
grateful for having his life saved he'd probably forget Joxer was even on
Olympus. He'd forget about telling Joxer that they'd talk again, and that
touch…that hadn't meant anything. It was probably just some god thing he
didn't know about, maybe a blessing or a way for the gods to tell what
mortals were thinking. Aphrodite was always touching him, it probably
didn't mean anything more than that.

It was hard not to feel *something*, though. It wasn't as though the god of
War went around being nice to mortals for no reason, and until yesterday
Joxer had been fairly certain that Ares didn't even know who he was. He'd
seen the god plenty of times when Ares was tormenting Xena, but Ares had
never so much as glanced in his direction before. The fact that he'd saved
Joxer's life was amazing enough, but for him to come check to make sure
Joxer was alright was so out of character that Joxer couldn't help wondering
what it meant. Then again, he only knew what Xena and other warriors had
told him about Ares and what he'd seen from afar, so it wasn't as though he
really knew the person behind the godhood.

Not that he expected to learn more about Ares during his stay on Olympus.
Any day now Aphrodite was going to get tired of having him hanging around
her house, and she was going to send him back to Greece. He knew it was
inevitable, but the thought still evoked a heavy sigh before he could stop
it.

"Not still blaming yourself for the fate of others, I trust."

The deep, rich voice was so unexpected in the silence of the garden that
Joxer nearly fell off the bench he'd been sitting on, his cheeks flushing
when he looked up and found Ares watching him. "Ares, I…no. I was just
thinking about going home. But I guess you already knew that."

Ares frowned and for a moment Joxer was terrified that he’d said something
wrong, but Ares didn’t look angry so much as confused. A moment later
realization dawned on him and he shook his head, taking a seat on the bench
next to Joxer. “Gods do have the ability to read the minds of mortals, but
it’s generally not done unless necessary to a mortal’s well-being. A god
may read the mind of a follower who he feels is being dishonest, but there
are very few mortals foolish enough to try lying to a god. Since you were
dedicated to me I hear all your prayers, unless they’re directly
specifically to another member of the pantheon. But I don’t make a habit of
reading your mind.”

Joxer looked down at the ground in front of him when he felt the heat rising
in his cheeks, hoping Ares wouldn’t notice his blush. He’d never really
thought of it as an intrusion; he hadn’t spent a lot of time contemplating
it, but he’d always just assumed that gods knew what mortals were thinking
without even trying. It had never occurred to him that gods would worry
about things like privacy, but considering what he’d learned since coming to
Olympus he wasn’t surprised.

“I’m sorry, Ares, I didn’t mean to imply…”

Ares waved off his apology with one hand, turning on the bench to study
Joxer’s profile. His expression was unreadable, at least in Joxer’s limited
experience. He’d never really had the opportunity to study Ares’ features
before, and he wasn’t sure if the frown was because he was unhappy or if he
was just thinking. He knew enough about Ares to close his mouth as soon as
the god held up a hand, though, and he tried his best not to tremble while
he waited for Ares to say something. “You’ve been spending time with my
nephew.”

For a moment Joxer wasn’t sure who Ares meant, then he realized he must be
talking about Strife. He felt himself nodding, then he blushed again and
shook his head. “A little, I guess. He’s been very nice; Cupid too.
Strife’s different than I expected.”

“And how did you expect to find him?”

There was an edge in Ares’ voice that Joxer couldn’t quite explain, but he
was almost sure now that he’d said something wrong. “I didn’t mean any
disrespect to your family, it’s just…people always talk about how crazy
Mischief is. I guess I just expected him to be less…normal. He’s much
easier to talk to than I expected.”

Ares’ eyebrows shot up and Joxer braced himself for shouting or possibly
sudden death, but to his surprise Ares’ mouth twisted into something almost
like a wry grin. “He does have a certain image to keep up among the
mortals. It’s possible you’re the first mortal that’s ever tried to hold a
conversation with him.”

“Really? The first? Doesn’t he have worshippers?”

Ares shrugged and shifted in a way that Joxer would have described as
uncomfortable if he didn’t know better. “All gods have worshippers, some
more than others. But receiving prayers isn’t the same as holding a
conversation. My warlords fear me, but they don’t know me. They see the
god that can grant them victory in battle or wipe out their entire army on a
whim. They don’t see me as someone to talk to. I’d imagine it’s the same
for Strife.”

“It must be lonely.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he even
realized he was thinking them, and as soon as he heard himself say them out
loud he wished Ares hadn’t saved his life after all. He wasn’t sure exactly
what Tartarus was like; the few times he’d tried asking Iolaus about it he’d
only gotten vague answers before the other man changed the subject, and
Aphrodite got a little upset whenever he mentioned it. So he wasn’t really
sure what to expect, but he knew if he said the wrong thing to Ares he’d be
finding out faster than he’d planned.

To his surprise Ares didn’t look angry at the observation, he didn’t even
really look surprised that Joxer had spoken so freely. In fact it almost
seemed as though Ares was considering whether or not being a god really was
lonely, and Joxer found himself holding his breath as he waited for Ares to
answer.

“I suppose it is, in a way,” Ares finally said, and although his gaze was
fixed on Joxer he had a feeling Ares wasn’t really seeing him. “There’s
always someone plotting against someone else on Olympus, but for the most
part the gods tend to keep to themselves unless there’s business to discuss.
Keeping track of all you mortals takes up most of our time.”

Joxer found himself smiling in spite of his nervousness; it wasn’t every day
he found himself in the middle of a friendly conversation with the god of
War, but it was kind of…nice. Ares was much calmer than he’d expected, just
like Strife was a lot more intelligent than Joxer would have guessed. He’d
never stopped to consider that maybe there was more to the gods than what
they let their worshippers see, but it made sense. He wasn’t sure why
they’d chosen him as the apparent exception to that rule, but he was
grateful for the opportunity to see the real Ares.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Ares nodded, focusing his attention on Joxer again as he waited to hear
whatever was on Joxer’s mind.

“Don’t you ever get any time off? I mean even Xena and Hercules take a
vacation from being heroes every once in awhile.”

He winced when Ares’ expression darkened at the mention of Hercules, but as
soon as the emotion surfaced it was gone. “Vacation from being a god. I
can just imagine suggesting that Zeus instate that policy.”

Ares’ lips turned up in the first genuine smile Joxer had ever seen on the
god, and it was such an unexpected sight that Joxer didn’t even mind that
Ares was making fun of him. Maybe it was silly to suggest that gods would
need the same kind of breaks as mortals, but if it made Ares smile like
that…Joxer shook himself out of the sudden and vaguely disturbing thought,
forcing himself to focus on anything other than the things Ares’ smile was
doing to his stomach. He’d always thought of his god as handsome, but he’d
never really thought of him as…well, as a man. So he was attractive; he was
a god, they were supposed to be striking. Joxer had enough problems without
developing a crush on someone as unattainable as the god of War.

Still, it was hard not to have some kind of reaction to the fact that he was
sitting with the god he’d spent his whole life praying to, having a
conversation about what it was like to be a god. He couldn’t help laughing
when he imagined what Xena would think, and when Ares raised his eyebrows at
him he forgot to be nervous. “I was just imagining Xena’s face if she saw
me talking to you.”

Ares returned his smile, and it got a little harder for Joxer to ignore the
affect it had on him. “I’m glad you haven’t allowed my daughter’s opinion
of me to affect your judgment.”

“Some habits are hard to break, I guess.” As soon as he realized how that
must sound he blushed again, but Ares didn’t look like he was ready to
incinerate him so he tried again. “Not that I ever prayed to you just out
of habit. I always knew you were listening, and even if it wasn’t exactly
like talking to you it made me feel better.”

“I’ve always wondered about that,” Ares murmured half to himself, his voice
so low that Joxer had to lean in a little to catch what he’d said.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he had a feeling the whole situation
should make him uncomfortable, but Ares seemed to think there was nothing
strange at all about sitting in Aphrodite’s garden and talking like they
were old friends. Then again, Ares was probably so used to hearing Joxer’s
prayers that to him the situation did seem perfectly normal. Not that this
was the sort of thing Joxer usually prayed about, but he was grateful for
the chance to talk to Ares and actually get an answer for the first time.

“You’ve always wondered what?” Joxer prodded gently, summoning courage from
somewhere deep inside of him.

“If it bothered you that I never answer your prayers. Not just you, of
course,” Ares added quickly. “I answer what prayers I can, but I wonder
sometimes if you mortals realize that you’ve received an answer.”

“What kind of prayers can’t you answer?”

A heavy sigh escaped Ares’ throat and Joxer instantly regretted asking when
he saw the sadness settle over the god’s features. “Prayers for souls
already claimed by Hades, for instance. I get a lot of that in my line of
work. Prayers for things that fall under another god’s domain. Vengeance,
for instance. That’s Nemesis, but mortals seem to think War should be
responsible for retribution when the death is a result of battle. You’d be
surprised at the number of misdirected prayers people send out.”

“I can imagine,” Joxer said, although he was fairly sure he couldn’t. He
couldn’t even begin to imagine the number of worshippers that prayed to
Ares, let alone how many of their prayers would fall under another god’s job
description. “I did that, didn’t I? When I first left home…you probably
don’t remember that, though.”

“I remember,” Ares answered, the soft quality of his voice making Joxer look
up sharply. “You belong to me, you were right to pray to me for
protection.”

“No, I meant…I prayed to you for protection for someone else. But you did
answer that prayer, didn’t you? You took him into your temple and tried to
keep him safe.” Ares didn’t answer, but it was obvious from the way he was
looking at Joxer that he knew exactly who he was talking about. Joxer
hadn’t thought about that prayer since he was sixteen years old, but now he
knew that Ares had answered it even though he didn’t have to. “You did that
just because I asked you to?”

For a long time Ares just looked at him without answering, but Joxer
couldn’t bring himself to look away. He hadn’t planned to ask the question
out loud, but now that he had he wanted to know the answer. He wanted to
know why he was important enough for Ares to save his life, for Aphrodite to
bring him up to Olympus and keep him safe. He wanted - no, he *needed* - to
know why he was so important when there were so many mortals who never even
saw a god, let alone spoke to one.

“There’s more to being a loyal follower of War than being the strongest and
the most skilled with a sword,” Ares finally said. As soon as he finished
speaking he cleared his throat and stood up, crossing his arms over his
chest and not quite meeting Joxer’s gaze. “I have some business to attend
to. You aren’t planning to ask Dite to send you home today?”

Joxer felt himself shaking his head before he even had time to consider his
answer. If it was possible he wanted to go home even less now than he had
before Ares showed up, although he wouldn’t have been able to say why if
anyone asked him.

“I’ll see you again, then.”

A second later Ares was gone, and Joxer was left staring at the empty space
where he’d been standing. He was getting used to people flashing in and out
on him without warning, but that didn’t help the disappointment he felt when
he found himself alone again. Ares had as good as promised to see him
again, though, and even if he couldn’t explain it Joxer found himself
looking forward to the next time Ares would visit him.

~

Ares bypassed the central rooms of his halls and flashed directly into his
bedroom, unwilling to run the risk of running into any family members. He
had a feeling that the little performance Cupid and Strife had put on that
morning was Aphrodite’s suggestion, but if it made them all feel better he
was willing to play along. For the time being, anyway. Besides, it gave
him an excuse to drop in and check up on Joxer, and even though he hated
himself for it he just wasn’t strong enough to stay away.

While Joxer was in Greece with Xena it was easy enough to keep his distance,
but now that he was right here on Olympus…it was just too much to ignore.
It was his fault that Joxer blamed himself for his father’s death, just as
much as it was his fault that Joxer blamed himself for Timo. It would have
been laughable if it wasn’t so heartbreaking to watch Joxer mourning someone
who had never even existed. Only he did exist; even if he had a different
face and a different name Ares still felt just as strongly for Joxer now as
he had when they were lovers.

That was the problem, though, because no matter how much time they spent
together Joxer could never know the truth. Ares couldn’t tell him, not if
he expected Joxer to go on being a part of his life. So the best he could
hope for was the chance Dite was giving him now. They could be friends, and
maybe someday…he shook his head to chase the thought away as quickly as it
surfaced, telling himself not to start hoping for things that could never
happen. He could be Joxer’s friend, but they’d never be lovers again.
Joxer’s heart belonged to a memory and it probably always would, even if
that memory had been a part of Ares at one time.

He wasn’t about to let his pride interfere with the only chance he had to be
in Joxer’s life, though, so he let his son and his nephew think they were
tricking him into going to Joxer. And if he was a little jealous about the
level of comfort Strife seemed to have with Joxer it just helped convince
them that he was falling for their act, so he didn’t bother trying to hide
how he felt. He couldn’t even bring himself to care that they both knew his
secret, because at least it meant his family wanted this for him. Even if
it could never be the thing he’d been dreaming about for the past fifteen
years, it was something. And fifteen years was nothing to a god, but to
Ares it felt like a lifetime. The hundreds of years that came before Joxer
were all a blur, but the fifteen years since Joxer left him that note and
ran away from home felt like an eternity.

He knew there was no way Dite would let Joxer go home any time soon, not if
she thought there was a chance that Ares would try to fix what he’d broken.
He knew that was impossible, but as long as she believed otherwise she’d
find a way to keep Joxer as close as possible. Which meant Ares had a
chance to at least be his friend again, to be more to him than some distant
god he prayed to out of habit. He’d managed not to let on how much those
words hurt him, but it comforted him a little to know that Joxer knew his
prayers were heard. And now he knew that Ares answered all his prayers, no
matter how small or unimportant. Not that Joxer ever asked for anything
big, but Ares almost wished he would just so he could prove how far he’d go
to make sure Joxer was happy.

It would be embarrassing to admit even to himself how much he depended on
hearing Joxer’s voice every day, but now that they’d spoken again he knew it
was just going to get worse. When Joxer finally did go home he’d find
himself wandering down to Greece when Xena wasn’t around just to sit and
talk to Joxer, and he could only hope the mortal never thought to question
Ares’ motivations. He could always fall back on the adage that it wasn’t
Joxer’s place to question a god’s whims, but he had a feeling he’d find
himself coming too close to admitting the truth. It was a risk he was
willing to take if it meant being Joxer's friend again, though, and even if
Joxer thought their friendship was brand-new Ares would remember how far
back it really went.



Joxer knew he should be used to strange things happening to him. He'd never
expected to be on a first-name basis with as many gods as he was, for
instance, and he hadn't really expected to find himself traveling around the
countryside with one of War's strongest warriors. Okay, so technically Xena
was an ex-warrior, but she was Ares' daughter and that was a pretty big
deal. When he'd left home at sixteen he hadn't really expected to live out
the winter, but somehow he'd managed to avoid getting himself killed or
starving to death for the past fifteen years. Sometimes his dumb luck was
so unlikely that over the years he'd wondered if there was someone looking
out for him, and now that he'd been to Olympus he was even more certain that
his 'luck' had never been just luck at all.

The question wasn't so much who'd been looking out for him all this time,
especially after his second conversation with Ares. No, the real question
was why, but no matter how he asked he hadn't been able to get a straight
answer out of anyone who might know. Aphrodite changed the subject any time
he even mentioned Ares' name, and he was almost sure Strife had been
avoiding him for the past few days. He'd seen Ares every day, though, and
even though his visits were never very long Joxer found himself looking
forward to them a little more with each passing day.

He'd never expected Ares to notice him, much less treat him like an equal.
But during their conversations it was easy to forget that Ares was a god,
the same god Joxer had spent his entire life worshipping. He made Joxer
feel so much less awkward and stupid than he usually felt, as though Ares
actually cared about his opinions. It seemed impossible that Ares would
care about what Joxer thought about anything, but it wasn't any more
surprising than the fact that Ares had protected him all these years.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so shocked to find out that he'd been under
Ares' protection; after all, he was dedicated to War and he'd always been
loyal in spite of his friends' objections. So the real surprise was that
Ares had noticed how loyal Joxer was, and that he appreciated that loyalty
in spite of the fact that Joxer was a terrible warrior. He seemed to
appreciate the fact that Joxer tried; he seemed to have been paying a lot
closer attention than Joxer ever would have suspected, because he knew
things that even Joxer had forgotten about. The fact that Ares had been
watching him all this time, listening to his prayers and keeping him safe
would have made him self-conscious, but Ares had a way of making him feel
completely at ease about the attention. He hadn't been so comfortable with
someone since Timo, and he never thought he'd find someone he could talk to
like that again.

Which was why he had to ask Aphrodite to send him back, because if he kept
spending time with Ares something was going to happen that his god most
definitely would not appreciate. It was one thing for him to take pity on a
loyal follower, but if he found out that Joxer was actually attracted to
him…that just couldn't happen, that was all there was to it. He just had to
go back to his life and forget about it. It was just because he felt like
he'd just lost the love of his life all over again, and in a strange way
Ares reminded him a little of the boy that had been his first real friend.
There was something about the way Ares spoke, the way he looked at Joxer
sometimes that reminded him of Timo. That was no reason to develop a crush,
but since he couldn't stop it he had to leave.

It was the only way, and he was going to tell Aphrodite as soon as he saw
her again. He'd put it off for days, since the time Ares told him that he'd
been keeping watch over Joxer since he left home. He'd always known that
Ares heard his prayers, but somehow knowing just how much Ares had done for
him made it even harder not to react to his attraction. It was one thing
for Ares to watch over a child that had been dedicated to him at birth, but
he'd answered Joxer's prayer for protection for someone else, someone that
Ares had no obligation to.

At least Joxer didn't think Ares had an obligation to Timo, although the
truth was he didn't know much about Timo. He'd never said much about his
family, and now Joxer knew why; he'd never had one to talk about. There was
no telling where he'd been living before Ares' priests took him in, where
he'd gotten the food he brought with him every time they met or what
happened to him after Joxer left him to go to his own house. His family had
never been ideal, but at least Joxer had had a roof over his head and
somewhere more or less safe to sleep. Timo didn't have anything, but he'd
never once complained about it.

There were many times over the years that Joxer wished he could just see
Timo one more time, just to make sure he was okay and that he understood why
Joxer left without saying goodbye. Now he wished he could see his old lover
so he could ask the hundreds of questions that had been racing through his
mind non-stop for days. He wanted to see Timo again so he could tell him
how sorry he was, for not asking the right questions and not waiting for
Timo so they could go away together.

The thought of what could have been had tortured him almost constantly since
he found himself on Olympus, so much that sometimes it was hard to breathe.
His mind kept going over the possibilities of what would have happened if
he'd just waited in the woods for Timo to come back, or maybe if he'd sought
refuge in Ares' temple. The thought had never occurred to him back then,
not when his own father made more or less regular offerings to Ares. He
never would have expected Ares to protect him, especially not after he was
chased out of the temple when he was just a boy.

Yet he'd still prayed to Ares for protection, so some small part of him must
have known that he could count on his god when he needed him. He was
ashamed of himself for ever doubting that Ares would look after him,
especially now that he was starting to understand all Ares had really done
for him since the day he ran away from home. He hadn't been able to bring
himself to ask Ares why he'd done so much for Joxer over the years. Part of
him was afraid Ares would be angry at him for questioning his motivation,
but mostly he was just afraid he wouldn't get a straight answer out of his
god. The last thing he wanted to do was drive Ares away, even if Joxer was
only a passing amusement for him.

He looked up when he heard a throat clear behind him, a hot blush staining
his cheeks when he realized Ares was watching him. He wasn't sure how long
he'd been sitting in the garden waiting, but there was no denying that that
was exactly what he'd been doing. Ares seemed to know it, too, but he
didn't mention it. Instead he took a few steps forward and sank onto the
ground next to Joxer, drawing his legs up to rest his elbows on his knees.

"I trust I'm not interrupting."

"No, I…I was just…"

"Thinking," Ares supplied for him, a grin tugging at the corners of his
mouth as he watched Joxer's blush deepen. "You seem to do a lot of that."

"This garden is a good place to think. It's very quiet." Joxer would have
rolled his eyes at himself, but he was already embarrassed enough without
having to explain *why* he was embarrassed.

"Indeed." Ares' voice rumbled in the stillness of the garden, sending a
shiver down Joxer's spine that made him shift uncomfortably on the grass.
And hadn't he just been thinking about how comfortable he was with Ares? So
there was no reason for him to suddenly be nervous, because no matter how
stunning Ares looked in black leather nothing had changed. He was still a
god, and Joxer was just a mortal. A mortal that no one had ever cared much
about, unless he counted Xena and Gabbie and that was only because they were
in the business of protecting people that couldn't look after themselves.

The only reason he was nervous was because he'd spent the entire morning
trying to figure out why Ares had suddenly taken such an interest in him
when he'd had years to see that Joxer was unworthy of being one of his
followers. Maybe it was just because Joxer was trapped on Olympus, he was
convenient and Ares probably saw him as a novelty. The mortal who attacked
his own father in the name of a love that had died years ago…but it had
never really died, and he knew it probably never would.

"I've been thinking about asking Aphrodite to send me home." The words
escaped his mouth before he realized he'd been thinking them, but as soon as
he said them he realized that he wanted to know what Ares' reaction would
be. He knew he shouldn't even hope that Ares would care, but he wanted to
know if his god would be a little disappointed to see him go.

"And have you come to a decision?" Ares' expression didn't betray what he
was thinking, but Joxer was almost sure that he'd hesitated for a second
before he asked the question.

"I think it's best…for everyone. I need to get back, Xena and Gabbie will
be worried. Besides, Aphrodite doesn't need me around, I'm sure I'm in the
way."

"I hardly think your presence is a burden on my sister," Ares answered. His
voice was as steady as it always was, deep and rich and far too mesmerizing
for Joxer's own good. "As for my daughter, I believe Cupid spoke to her
about your…situation."

"He did?" The idea of Cupid telling Xena what he'd done…heat crept back
into his cheeks, and he looked down at the ground between them so he
wouldn't have to see the pity in Ares' eyes. There was no way he could face
Xena and Gabbie if they knew everything, what happened at his father's house
and the reason he'd gone back there in the first place.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he flinched at the unexpected touch. As
soon as he looked up Ares pulled his hand away, and if Joxer didn't know
better he would have sworn he saw hurt flicker in the god's eyes for a
moment. "I believe he told Xena that you'd be staying with Dite for awhile.
I don't think he told them why."

"Oh." Part of him was relieved to know that he wouldn't have to spend the
rest of his life avoiding Xena and Gabrielle, it was bad enough that Ares
knew what he'd done. He knew he should be at least a little embarrassed for
attacking his own father the way he had, but he couldn't make himself regret
it. He'd thought he left the grief behind years ago, and when it surged up
again he'd reacted without thinking about the consequences. He wasn't
really glad that his father was dead, but he couldn't say he was sorry for
the way it had happened.

"I imagine you'll have a lot of questions to answer when you get back," Ares
continued, leaning back on his elbows and stretching his legs out in front
of him. He glanced up at Joxer and did his best to look serious, but Joxer
could see the amusement lurking in his dark eyes. "Your little blonde
friend has probably spun quite a few theories about your sudden departure."

Joxer found himself smiling at the thought of Xena and Gabrielle speculating
about what he was doing on Olympus. He could only imagine what they'd come
up with so far; knowing Gabbie's imagination she probably had him sacrificed
to the god of klutzes by now. If there was a god of klutzes. He opened his
mouth to ask, then thought better of it and shook his head. "I'm sure
whatever she comes up with will be a lot more interesting than the truth.
Maybe I'll just let her tell me what I'm doing here."

"She might have written a ballad about it already." Ares looked so serious
that for a moment Joxer wasn't sure whether or not to laugh, but when he saw
the corner of the god's mouth twitch his features relaxed into a grin.

"It's not that funny, she might have." The thought of Gabbie forcing Xena
to listen to some ballad about him over and over evoked a laugh, and soon
they were both breathless. "Poor Xena," Joxer said between gasps for
breath. "She finally gets rid of me and she's got to listen to Gabbie
immortalize me in song."

He drew in a deep breath and glanced over at Ares, but the god wasn't
laughing anymore. He was watching Joxer, his expression thoughtful and just
a little sad. "Your friends shouldn't make you feel like a burden."

His tone of voice made Joxer wonder if Ares knew what he was talking about,
but he couldn't imagine the god of War worrying about what people thought of
him. He'd admitted to being a little lonely, though, so maybe gods weren't
so different from mortals after all. "They don't, I mean not really. We
spend so much time together that we're bound to get on each other's nerves,
right? You must get a little annoyed with Strife sometimes."

"You have no idea." Ares' smile returned at the thought of his nephew, and
Joxer found himself smiling back again. "It's not the same, though.
Strife's family. And we work together."

Joxer shrugged and looked away, his smile fading. "Xena and Gabbie are the
closest thing to family I've really got. I barely see my brothers, and my
father…well, you know what he was like."

"I should have done something about him years ago," Ares muttered, but Joxer
wasn't sure whether or not he knew he'd said it out loud. He had a feeling
the god hadn't meant him to hear it, but something about the way he said it
sent a shiver up Joxer's spine.

"It wasn't that bad," Joxer said, his voice soft as he stole another glance
at Ares. "At least I had a home. I don't even know…Ares, was he…I mean the
boy your priests took in, do you know where he grew up? He told me he had a
family, I never knew he was an orphan. I don't understand why he lied."

"I don't trouble myself with the details of most mortals' lives," Ares
answered flatly. The abrupt change in his demeanor was nothing unusual, but
it still sent a chill through Joxer. Part of him was hurt that Ares
wouldn't think Timo was important enough to concern himself with, but mostly
he was busy wondering what made him so different than 'most mortals' that
Ares remembered fifteen years' worth of prayers. "Does it matter now? If
he did lie, does it make a difference in how you feel about him? Would you
have attacked your father if you'd stopped to think about the fact that he
lied?"

"Yes…I mean no, it doesn't matter," Joxer answered. He knew he probably
looked a little angry, but he hadn't been expecting that reaction to a
simple question. "It just doesn't make any sense. What reason would he
have to lie to me? We were just children when we met, I wasn't any threat
to him."

"It's possible he was orphaned after you left." Ares pushed himself back
into a sitting position, leaning close enough to Joxer that the mortal could
feel hot breath on his skin. And he'd never really thought about whether or
not gods breathed, but somehow it didn't come as a surprise to him when he
felt the warmth against his cheek. Ares' thumb brushed across his cheekbone
the same way he'd done that first day in the garden, and Joxer found himself
holding his own breath as he waited for whatever came next.

He found himself stifling a disappointed sigh when Ares let go of him
abruptly, leaning back to a safe distance before he continued. "You'd do
well to leave the past in the past, Joxer. Some questions have no answers."

Joxer opened his mouth to answer, but before the words made it past his lips
Ares was gone. He was used to the sudden departures by now, but Ares had
always said goodbye to him in the past. At the very least he usually said
something about seeing Joxer again, but this time Joxer was left wondering
if he would. He wasn't sure what he'd done to upset Ares, but it was
obvious he'd pushed too far. It was for the best, he reminded himself
harshly as he pushed himself off the ground and turned in the direction of
Aphrodite's temple. It didn't matter that Ares had been briefly distracted
by him, or that Aphrodite was too kind to tell him when he'd worn out his
welcome. It didn't even matter that he could still feel his god's touch on
his cheek; it didn't mean anything, and once he was back in Greece they'd
forget all about him again.

~

Ares reappeared in his own throne room, blasting a statue into a million
pieces and then kicking over a table for good measure. It was ridiculous,
he knew without having to be told that he was being completely irrational.
He was jealous of himself, for Zeus' sake, and no matter how many times he
told himself to get over it he couldn't. Every time he let himself think
that maybe, just maybe Joxer was a little attracted to him, the ghost of his
long-dead alter ego came between them again.

And what reason did Joxer have to be attracted to him? So far in the few
times they'd spoken he'd given vague half-answers to all of Joxer's
questions, his moods had shifted more abruptly than Strife's sanity, and
he'd practically told Joxer to get over the fact that the person he loved
was dead. As friends went Ares was doing the worst possible job he could,
and the worst part was that he knew he could do better. Zeus, he sat there
and listened to Joxer go on and on about what a wonderful friend Timo had
been, how there was no one better in the world and how sorry he was to have
let him go.

Of course Joxer had no idea of the truth, because if he did he wouldn't be
saying things to make Ares at once ecstatic and miserable. Part of him
loved the fact that Joxer was still so loyal to the memory of their love,
but there was another part of him that really did wish Joxer would just get
over it so he'd be free to fall in love with Ares. Again. Only this time
there wouldn't be any pretense, no lies and ever more elaborate stories to
cover up the lies that had come before. This time it would be just the two
of them, with nothing between them but a little question of mortality that
was easily taken care of.

He wasn't supposed to be trying to get Joxer to fall in love with him, he'd
promised himself that he was just going to be Joxer's friend and leave it at
that. The problem was that with every passing day it got a little harder to
stop himself from acting on his feelings, and when Joxer smiled at him the
way he used to when they were still lovers it was all Ares could do not to
push him down on the ground and take him. Part of him had a feeling that
Joxer wouldn't even put up a fight, but he didn't want Joxer that way. He
wanted Joxer to love him - not some memory, some ghost from his past - just
him, without the memory of a long-dead boy that had never really existed
between them.

It was his own fault that Joxer was so hung up on…well, on him, but that
didn't make it any easier to live with. Part of him wanted to just blurt
out the whole ugly truth and see what happened, to see if Dite was right and
Joxer would find a way to forgive him. Part of him wondered if Joxer hadn't
already figured it out, and if he was just toying with Ares by asking all
kinds of questions about Timo. He couldn't help wondering if Joxer was just
trying to get him to slip up, to catch him in a lie he couldn't talk his way
out of. Only Joxer wasn't capable of being that devious, not when it came
to matters of the heart.

The fact of the matter was that Joxer was still in love with Timo, and there
was nothing Ares could do to change it. The only chance he had was to tell
Joxer the truth and risk the possibility of the only person he'd ever really
loved hating him for the rest of his mortal life. He had no idea how he was
going to say it, but there had to be a way to make Joxer understand that
Ares had never meant to hurt him. He'd never meant to make Joxer suffer
this way, and if he'd known…if he'd known he still would have fallen in
love.

If he thought there was any chance he could get through to Joxer he'd take
it, he'd run the risk of living with a memory between them. It would be
preferable to running the risk of telling Joxer the truth and having him
hate Ares, but he knew now that Joxer was never going to let it go. He'd
spend the rest of his life finding new ways to blame himself for a lie, and
he'd never be free to love anyone else as long as he lived with the guilt of
Timo's death.

The whole thing was almost laughable, and if Ares wasn't so miserable he
might have been able to see the humor in it. He knew he'd been given a
second chance and he was grateful, but it didn't seem fair that a second
chance meant competing against himself. And Joxer had had fifteen years to
polish every memory, to make their six years together seem as perfect as
possible. He'd had years to fine tune every moment of the two years they'd
been lovers, to forget every time Timo had questioned him about the bruises
his father had given him. He only remembered the best things about their
time together, and there was no way Ares could compete with something so
perfect.

All he could do was tell the truth; tell the truth, and then hope for the
best. It was the first time since Joxer left home that he'd felt completely
helpless, and even then he'd at least been able to answer Joxer's prayers.
Now he wasn't sure he'd ever hear Joxer pray to him again, and that thought
made his heart ache in a way he didn't even know was possible.

He took a deep breath and sent out a mental call to his sister, finally
locating Dite in her own throne room. Before he had a chance to join her he
felt her presence shift closer, and less than a second later she was
standing in front of him. "What's up, bro? You look kinda bummed.
Everything's okay with Joxie, isn't it?"

Ares took a deep breath and told himself he was not going to lose his
patience. Screaming at her never made a difference anyway, she'd just flash
back out of his temple and refuse to talk to him until he calmed down. When
he was relatively sure he could hold a conversation without doing any
physical damage he cleared his throat, doing his best to look as calm as
possible. "Joxer's going to ask you to send him back to Xena."

"What? Why? What'd you do to him?"

The accusatory tone didn't really surprise him, but he still found himself
taking another deep breath before he continued. "I didn't do anything," he
answered, but he could tell by her expression that she didn't believe him.
"He seems to think he's underfoot, that you're just too polite to tell him
he's overstayed his welcome. The point is I need you to find a way to keep
him here."

"Well I can't hold him prisoner, Ares. You know that. I've gotta have a
reason to keep him here. There is a reason, right?"

"Yes, there's a reason," he said, rolling his eyes when she let out a little
squeal and then clapped her hand over her mouth. "I need to tell him…I need
to talk to him, but I need some time to find the right way to say it."

"It's easy, bro. You just open your mouth and the words come right out."

He swallowed the urge to tell her that for someone who was supposed to be
looking out for Joxer she didn't know much about him at all. He needed her
on his side if this was going to work, and he knew the only chance he had at
making Joxer understand was to tell him before he found out some other way.
"Just keep him here, I don't care how you do it."

"No problem," she answered, flashing a bright grin at him. Before he could
stop her she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a
wet kiss on his cheek before she pulled away again. "I'm proud of you, bro.
Just don't make him wait too long. He's a smart guy, even I can't put him
off forever."

With that she was gone again, leaving Ares to stare at the spot where she'd
been standing. As soon as she disappeared he regretted asking for her help;
he should have just brought Joxer back to his temple and locked them both in
until he made him understand, but he didn't want to run the risk of making
him think Ares was insane. He was starting to feel a little insane, but if
he could just make Joxer understand why he'd done what he had it would all
be okay again. He just needed to find the right way to tell him the truth,
and then everything would be exactly the way it should have been all this
time.


"Do you think he'll really go through with it?"

"Do ya think he really should?"

Cupid shot a disapproving glance at Strife, but before he had a chance to
answer Aphrodite looked up from the scroll she'd been pretending to read for
the past ten minutes. "He hasn't got a choice. He can't just go on
pretending there's some dead mortal somewhere down at Hades' place.
Eventually Joxie would catch on. He's not nearly as dumb as everyone
thinks."

"Yeah, but if Unc fesses up do ya really think Jox is evah gonna wanna see
him again?"

"Come on, Strife, of course he will. They love each other, it doesn't
matter what happened in the past. The point is they're together now."
Cupid nodded firmly and glanced at his mother for approval, but she just bit
her lip and wrapped a golden curl around her index finger.

"I hope so," she said after a long pause, during which both younger gods
grew increasingly more nervous for Ares' chances. "I mean it's Joxie, and
he's a very forgiving guy. But it is a pretty big lie."

"But you told Dad to tell him," Cupid said, his eyes wide as he watched his
mother fidget.

"Well he has to," Aphrodite shot back, crossing her arms over her chest and
sticking out her bottom lip in her best pout. "I'm sure it'll be fine.
They love each other, Joxie just doesn't know it yet."

"Ya shoulda just shot him and handed him over, Cupe," Strife said. He
leaned back on the overstuffed white couch and focused his gaze on the
ceiling, schooling his features into an impatient scowl so the others
wouldn't notice how nervous he was. If it was anybody else he would have
found a way to sneak into the garden, shield or no shield, and stirred up a
little mischief. A well-timed shove or a rock that hadn't been in Ares'
path a moment before would have been enough to force him into Joxer's arms,
but even that thought didn't cheer Strife up. He was too worried that he
was right, and any minute now Joxer was going to burst through the doors and
demand to be sent as far away from Ares as possible.

He knew love was Aphrodite and Cupid's gig and he should probably trust that
they knew what they were getting Ares into, but he'd seen enough of mortals
messing up a good thing to wonder if Joxer would be able to see past the
lie. Even his own cousin Xena went around denying she was in love with her
best friend, and all because she had some weird hang-up about peace. And if
it wasn't messed up that Xena would sacrifice her own happiness just to get
back at her father for not being around when she was growing up, he didn't
know what was. So he didn't have a lot of faith in Joxer's reaction to the
truth, because even though he liked Joxer more than he liked most mortals -
and gods, for that matter - he was still a mortal.

When Aphrodite had told him and Cupid that Ares was planning to tell Joxer
the truth his first reaction had been to try to stop him, to talk some sense
into his uncle before it was too late. He still didn't understand why Ares
couldn't just keep going the way things were; considering the amount of time
Joxer spent asking him questions about Ares it was obvious he liked him, and
eventually it would develop into full-blown love. Again. His uncle's
problem was just that he was too impatient; if he'd just given Joxer some
time to get over it they would have gotten together eventually. Strife had
waited almost fifty years for Cupid to come around, after all, so if anybody
knew the value of wearing somebody down it was him.

Not that any of his family members ever thought his experience counted for
much. Even Cupid had pretty much ignored all his attempts to be the voice
of reason; granted, he wasn't known for being rational or anything, but he
understood the way his uncle's mind worked a lot better than either of them,
whether they wanted to admit it or not. He and Ares were both House of War,
and even if he got on his uncle's nerves a lot it was only because they were
too much alike. Maybe not on the surface, and he wasn't as big into
brooding and acting like the big, scary King of the Warlords the way Ares
was, but they thought alike and he knew his uncle had to be at least a
little worried that he was making a big mistake.

He didn't bother trying to point any of that out to his aunt or his lover,
though; he knew they'd just ignore him, and anyway it was too late. Ares
was already in there talking to Joxer, which meant that it would all be over
any minute now. He let out a sigh and shifted his gaze a little to the
right, reaching for Cupid's hand when he caught the blond god watching him.
Cupid smiled gratefully and moved closer, letting Strife wrap an arm around
him and run his fingers idly through thick, sun-kissed hair. It would just
make Cupid feel worse if he said what they were all thinking out loud, so he
swallowed his fear and focused on the feeling of Cupid's weight against his
side instead of what was going on out in the garden.

~

Sometimes it bothered Ares that his family insisted on doing everything by
committee. It certainly wasn't helping to know that they were all sitting
just on the other side of the massive door that led out of the garden, just
waiting for him to mess things up with Joxer. He didn't have to see them
there to know they were waiting; even if he hadn't been able to sense them
when he entered the garden, he knew them well enough to know they couldn't
resist hanging around.

It had gotten to be a habit, meeting Joxer in Dite's garden every afternoon.
He wondered if Joxer looked forward to their conversations as much as he
did; whether he thought about Ares after he left, if he wondered why Ares
had taken such an interest in him. It was tempting to look into Joxer's
mind for the answers to his questions, but no matter how worried he was that
he was making a mistake, he couldn't bring himself to break Joxer's trust
that way.

Knowing he hadn't invaded Joxer's thoughts didn't make it any easier for him
to approach the quiet figure leaning against Dite's favorite pear tree, his
eyes closed and a lock of hair falling across his forehead. When he reached
Joxer the mortal didn't open his eyes, and for a moment Ares thought he
might have fallen asleep. He smiled in spite of his nervousness and
crouched down next to Joxer, reaching out on impulse and pushing the stray
lock of dark hair away from his forehead.

As soon as his fingers brushed warm skin Joxer's eyes opened, a smile
lighting up his features when he recognized Ares. It wasn't the first time
he'd touched Joxer since his stay on Olympus began, but each time they made
contact Ares found it a little harder to stop at a simple touch. Part of
him thought Joxer might even welcome something more, but he couldn't be sure
and he didn't want to run the risk of pushing things too far to fast. He
knew he had to tell Joxer the whole truth and let him make a decision based
on the lies Ares had told him. It was the only way; Dite had told him that
enough times now that he actually believed it, and if he and Joxer were
going to have a chance to grow closer he didn't want any more lies between
them.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, his own nerves and the stillness of the garden
making his voice sound too loud.

Joxer shook his head and sat up, drawing his knees to his chest to wrap his
arms around them. Ares settled next to him, careful not to lean far enough
into the smaller man to make contact. He wanted to feel the comforting
weight of Joxer’s warmth pressed against his shoulder the way he used to
when Joxer was young, when they spent countless hours in the woods outside
Araxova wondering about the future.

That had all been lies too, though, and Ares knew he didn’t have any right
to feel reassured by Joxer’s presence. He didn’t have a right to expect
forgiveness, and he had no idea how to tell Joxer the truth. He couldn’t
just open his mouth and say it, not without at least trying to make Joxer
understand why he’d felt the need to lie. The problem was that he just
wasn’t any good at this sort of thing; he wasn’t used to having to explain
himself to mortals or gods, and now that it mattered he wasn’t sure he’d be
able to do it.

Joxer still hadn’t said anything, and his silence wasn’t helping Ares feel
any more at ease with the situation. He couldn’t tell just by looking at
him if Joxer was nervous or if he was just picking up on Ares’ tension, but
things hadn’t ended that well the last time they spoke and for all he knew
Joxer didn’t want to see him anymore. He cleared his throat and mirrored
the mortal’s posture, staring straight ahead as he searched for the right
way to start a conversation he’d hoped never to have.

“You’re still here. I expected you might have asked Dite to send you back
to Xena by now.”

“She seems busy,” Joxer answered, his voice softer than usual. “I haven’t
been able to pin her down long enough to tell her I’m ready to leave,
anyway.”

“Gods are almost always busy,” Ares said, stealing a quick glance at the
other man. Joxer was staring down at the ground in front of him, and it was
hard to resist the temptation to reach out and brush his hair back from his
face again. He wasn’t sure how many more chances he’d have to do that, and
even casual touches made him feel a little closer to Joxer. “Keeping track
of mortals is difficult work.”

Joxer frowned, glancing at Ares and blushing when he realized the god was
watching him. “Something wrong?” Ares asked, struggling to force his
usually authoritative tone into something a little closer to Joxer’s gentle
voice.

“No, it’s just…I wasn’t really expecting to see you again. I’m sure you’re
even busier than Aphrodite.”

Ares stopped just short of rolling his eyes at himself; he could have kicked
himself for being so bad at this, especially considering he was a god. He
shouldn’t find himself justifying his behavior to any mortal, not even one
he’d been in love with for years. Being the god of War didn’t do much to
prepare him for the art of conversation, though, and he’d never stopped to
think that Joxer might wonder why Ares had suddenly taken such an interest
in him.

“I have Strife and Eris to keep track of the details,” he said, hoping he
sounded more convincing than he felt. It wasn’t really a lie; Strife and
Eris did work with him, and Athena kept up her end of things as well. He’d
never felt comfortable letting his subordinates have any real control,
though, and any one of his family members would be able to tell Joxer that
Ares was easily one of the busiest gods on Olympus. Still, he had to say
*something*, and it was better than admitting the truth before he’d prepared
Joxer to hear it. “Love is far less predictable than war, at any rate.
Dite’s work is more about chance than strategy.”

He cringed at how ridiculous that explanation sounded, but if Joxer thought
so he didn’t let on. Instead he nodded and fixed his attention back on the
ground again. “Can I ask you a question?”

Ares nodded slowly, bracing himself for the question he feared was coming.
He had no idea how to answer it if Joxer asked, but he knew he had to be
honest. And maybe it would give him an opening to start the conversation
he'd come here to have, because at the rate things were going he wasn't sure
he'd ever get around to the truth on his own.

"Why are you here? I know you saved my life and I'm grateful, but I've been
thinking about it for days and I can't understand why you keep coming to see
me."

It was a struggle not to laugh at the question he'd known was coming, partly
because it was almost a relief to hear the words he'd been dreading for so
long, and partly because it seemed like it should be obvious to Joxer why
Ares wanted to see him. He had to remind himself almost constantly that
Joxer didn't know they shared a history, that as far as he was concerned the
boy he'd told all his secrets to as a child was long dead. There was really
only one way to answer such a simple question, he just hoped that it would
be the answer Joxer wanted to hear.

"Why shouldn't I spend my time with you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow when
Joxer blushed again. "You fascinate me, Joxer. You've held my interest for
longer than you know."

"But…" Joxer trailed off abruptly, blinking and then clearing his throat as
he absorbed Ares' words. "But you've always ignored me whenever you came to
see Xena. I didn't even think you knew who I was until you saved me."

"Not even gods have all the answers, Joxer." He didn't expect the other man
to understand what he meant, but it was the only explanation he had for the
way he'd acted for so long. He had no idea how to make Joxer understand how
things had spun so far out of control, but he knew if he didn't try it would
be the biggest regret of his existence. "Sometimes even we lose our way; we
forget how much depends on us making the right choices, we make mistakes or
lose our tempers. Sometimes we even fall in love."

For just a second Joxer's eyes got a little wider, and when a shy smile
tugged at the corners of his mouth Ares was almost sure he understood. Then
the mortal shook his head and looked away again, and Ares felt his heart
sink back into the pit of his stomach. "I didn't mean to sound ungrateful.
You've protected me in ways I could never thank you for, I shouldn't be
second-guessing you now. Of course you have a life of your own, otherwise
there wouldn't be much point to having all the power you have."

"Power comes with responsibility. There are times when even I've wished I
could forget my obligations, if only just for a little while. But I've had
to make hard choices for the good of my followers." He finally gave in to
the urge to reach out, his hand curving around Joxer's cheek for a moment
before it slid into his hair. "There are things I've given up that I
regret."

He didn't miss the way Joxer turned just slightly into his touch, soft skin
brushing against the roughness of his palm as the smaller man turned to look
at him. His lips were slightly parted and Ares knew how easy it would be
just to lean forward and claim them; Joxer probably wouldn't even protest,
and part of him wanted to forget about confessing the truth. He wanted to
believe that he could live with the secret of their past forever, but even
as he felt himself leaning forward he saw the flicker of regret in the
mortal's eyes. Instantly he pulled back, his hand falling lifelessly to his
side as he stared at Joxer.

"You're thinking of your own regrets."

His only answer was a nod, but Ares didn't have to hear Joxer say the words
to know what he was thinking about. It was painfully obvious that Timo
would always be between them, at least as long as Joxer still mourned his
death. The only choice was the truth; Ares had known that all along, and
now there was no avoiding it. "When I said that things are sometimes best
left in the past…"

"I'm sorry, Ares," Joxer said, and Ares couldn't help being impressed all
over again by the mortal's quiet strength. He knew very few mortals that
were brave enough to interrupt a god, and no mortal but Joxer had ever
interrupted him. He had a feeling Joxer didn't even realize what he'd done,
but in a way that made Ares admire him even more. Joxer never really
treated him like something untouchable, not the way most of his warlords
did. To them he was larger than life, a being they feared and worshipped
because he could give them something they wanted. Joxer simply talked to
him as though he were a person, and Ares was surprised to find how much he'd
missed that over the years.

"There's no reason to be sorry," Ares answered. "There are things you
should know, Joxer."

"It's just that I wish I could have seen him one more time," Joxer said,
talking right over Ares as though he hadn't even heard him. Ares had a
feeling he hadn't, because he was staring straight ahead and it was obvious
he was focused on something he was remembering rather than seeing. "Just to
know if he's okay, if he forgives me for leaving the way I did."

"You did what you had to do," Ares said, reaching out and laying a strong
hand on the other man's arm. Joxer turned to look at him, but his
expression was still laced with regret that Ares knew he wouldn't be able to
erase. Maybe not ever, because part of Joxer was always going to feel
guilty for not waiting to say goodbye. "You were only a child, Joxer. You
were in danger and you had to go. He understood that."

"How could he? I never told him…" Joxer trailed off, his voice catching in
his throat. It took a long moment before he pulled himself together enough
to continue, clearing his throat and dragging a hand across his eyes before
he looked up at Ares again. "I guess it doesn't really matter. At least I
had a father, I don't even know where he was sleeping at night. What if
he'd been living in those woods all that time? We could have gone away
together, then none of this would have happened."

Ares felt his head shaking before he realized he'd moved, his hand leaving
Joxer's arm to slide under his chin. He lifted Joxer's face as gently as he
could manage, looking into startled brown eyes before he answered. "You
didn't do anything wrong," he said, his mind racing as he searched for the
right words to finally confess the truth. "Your Timo…he belonged to you,
Joxer, just as you belonged to him. But he wasn't who…what you thought he
was."

"What do you mean?"

His thumb was slowly stroking Joxer's jaw, keeping up a gentle caress as he
struggled not to lose himself in those eyes he'd tried so hard to forget.
Fifteen years had barely changed them at all, though, and he was having a
hard time remembering that they weren't sitting by the stream outside his
temple trading guesses as to what Olympus was like. "I mean that there are
things you don't know about who he was…is. It's important that you remember
how much he loved you, Joxer. That much was true."

Joxer's skin trembled under his touch, and he instantly wished he'd never
said anything. The last thing he wanted to do was bring him any more pain,
that was the rationale he'd used for keeping quiet for so long. Now that
he'd started to tell Joxer the truth he couldn't take it back, but part of
him wished more than anything that he could. Part of him wondered just how
much trouble he'd be in if he turned back time to fifteen years ago, how
much he'd upset the balance of the universe if he went back in time and told
Joxer the truth the day he first left home.

He knew it wouldn't have mattered, though, not really. He still would have
lied to Joxer for six years, and he wasn't willing to give up their time
together even if it meant easing Joxer's pain now. Maybe that was selfish
of him, but he couldn't stand the thought of never knowing the man staring
back at him with a mixture of fear and hope shining in his eyes.

"Do you mean…is he still alive?" Joxer breathed, his voice barely above a
whisper. His breath warmed the tip of Ares' thumb as he traced the curve of
Joxer's lip, and he knew this was the only chance he'd ever have to set
things right.

"He's very much alive," Ares answered, inching slowly closer to the other
man as he spoke. He didn't notice that he wasn't breathing; it wasn't
something he needed to do anyway, just a habit the gods had picked up to set
mortals more at ease in their presence. All he was aware of was the soft
warmth of skin beneath his fingers, the sound of Joxer's heart beating
steadily against his chest, and the heat of breath against his skin as their
mouths just barely brushed together. "He's me."

He wasn't sure if Joxer heard him, or if the meaning behind his words would
even register. It couldn't have, because Joxer's mouth was moving against
his and he felt a hand slide into his hair to tug him impossibly closer. He
felt the other man's lips part under his and took the invitation gladly,
swallowing a sob when he tasted the familiar sweetness of Joxer for the
first time in fifteen years. He'd relived this so many times in his dreams
that he was sure he remembered exactly what it felt like, but when Joxer's
other hand curved around the back of his neck he knew no dream could ever do
even that simple touch justice. There was no way he could have remembered
the heat of skin moving against his, the shape of Joxer's fingers pressing
against his neck or the way the other man's mouth fit against his just so.

Everything happened so fast that he wasn't sure how long it took for Joxer
to realize what he'd said, but when he felt the body pressed against his
tense and the hand on his neck pull away he knew what was coming. So he
wasn't surprised when Joxer pushed him away and reached up to press slender
fingers against his lips, his eyes wide with shock and accusation this time.
"It was you."



“It was you?”

He was vaguely aware of the sound of his own voice, but he didn’t even know
what he was asking. He could still feel the press of lips against his own,
the familiar touch he should have forgotten after fifteen long years. It
was a lifetime ago that he’d last felt that kiss, but even if he hadn’t
heard Ares’ whispered confession he would have known the moment their lips
touched.

Slowly he pulled his fingers away from his mouth, reaching out without
thinking to trace the curve the god’s jaw. *His* god; the god he’d
worshipped for so long not because he was strong enough to be a great
warrior or coordinated enough to fight the way Xena did, but because it had
always felt natural to pray to Ares. And he knew why now; Ares had been his
closest friend for as long as he could remember, his first love and the one
person he could count on to understand him when no one else did.

“But how…why?” he heard himself whisper, his eyes darting away from the
curve of the other man’s mouth to search for answers in Ares’ dark eyes.
Nothing made sense; his world hadn’t made sense since the day Aphrodite told
him Timo was dead, and now that he knew Timo had never died at all he was
more confused than ever.

“You,” he breathed before Ares had a chance to answer, his mind racing with
a thousand different questions. There were so many things he wanted to ask,
but he knew he’d never be able to find the words. It was confusing and
exhilarating and yet not altogether surprising to discover that the
connection he thought he’d imagined between them was real, that it meant
something and even more astounding, that Ares felt it too. He felt a hand
close around his, strong fingers molding to his to pull his hand gently away
from Ares’ face. And he knew he should be asking a whole host of questions,
but all he really wanted to do was kiss Ares again, just to make sure this
was all real and he wasn’t going to wake up any second cramped and shivering
from sleeping on the ground. Part of him expected to wake up from this
dream at any moment and find himself in a clearing outside of Thebes, Xena
and Gabrielle breathing softly on the other side of a slowly dying fire. It
was the only way any of this would make sense, because there was no reality
in which Ares could possibly want him, let alone love him.

Before he knew it he was on his knees, his free hand on Ares’ shoulder to
steady himself as he leaned forward and pressed their lips together for the
second time. Only it was far from the second time; he’d lost count of their
kisses ages ago, somewhere between that first, awkward kiss and the first
afternoon that Timo had slowly undressed him for the first time. There was
experience in those hands even then, a knowledge that Joxer had never asked
about because he hadn’t wanted to know. He’d wanted to believe he was as
safe with Timo as he’d always felt, so he’d never asked questions about
where he got the food he always brought with him or why he touched Joxer as
though he knew what he was doing.

Now he knew that it was because Timo did know what he was doing; he’d had
over a hundred years of experience, fathered children Joxer probably didn’t
even know about, seen and done things that Joxer had no hope of ever
understanding. He was a god, and in all the time they’d spent together he’d
never once said a word about his real identity. He’d let Joxer ramble
endlessly about what Olympus must be like - even what Ares himself must be
like - and he’d never given any sign that he was playing a role.

It was a struggle to pull away from that soft, familiar mouth, from the arms
wrapped securely around him and holding him tight against a broad chest. It
took every ounce of strength in him to push Ares away again, and even then
he knew he’d only managed to pull away because Ares had allowed it. He was
defenseless against any god, and the god sitting less than a foot away from
him was one of the most powerful in the pantheon.

“I don’t understand,” he said, his fingers twitching against his thighs as
he struggled against his body’s need to get as close as possible to the man
he hadn’t been able to forget no matter how hard he’d tried. “How could it
have been you? I watched him grow up - I talked to him almost every day.
I…I touched him. He was real.”

Ares reached up to trace the curve of his jaw, his thumb stroking a soothing
pattern across Joxer’s skin, and gods, he wanted to lean into that touch.
It would be so easy to lose himself in it, to accept whatever explanation
Ares offered or even stop it completely with another kiss. Part of him
wanted nothing more than to feel for awhile, to give in to what his body and
heart demanded and ignore all the questions nagging at him. Ares was
already speaking, though, and as soon as Joxer heard his voice again he knew
it wouldn’t be that easy to forget.

“Gods don’t face the same physical limitations as humans,” Ares said, his
voice taking on a soothing quality that maybe no one except Joxer had ever
heard. He knew it well, though; so well that he could close his eyes and
imagine it was Timo speaking to him in a not-quite-whisper, Timo’s fingers
ghosting across his cheekbone as he spoke. “We can disguise ourselves as we
see fit; take on the shape of an enemy, a trusted lover, even a ten-year-old
boy.”

"But why?" He was trembling now, pulling away from Ares' touch to stand up
and wrap thin arms around his chest in a desperate attempt at control. Even
once he was far away from Ares' body heat he couldn't stop himself from
shaking, though, and the only thing that kept him standing was the need to
know why. Why Ares had taken an interest in a defenseless little boy, and
why he'd kept up the charade for six years. It must have seemed like no
time at all to a god, but to Joxer it was a lifetime worth of wonderful
memories. Memories that would be tarnished forever by the fact that it had
all been the whim of a god. "Why didn't you tell me? Why let me believe
he'd died? I tried to kill my own father because you said…"

He trailed off, relentlessly forcing down a sob because he was not going to
cry and make things worse. It was bad enough that he'd fallen for Ares
twice now, once right here in Aphrodite's garden, and once when he didn't
even know who he was falling in love with. He'd been a fool for the gods'
entertainment for long enough, and he wasn't about to give Ares the
satisfaction of watching him fall apart now.

"You were just a child, Joxer," Ares said, taking a step toward the other
man. He flinched when Joxer moved backwards, but he stopped and let out a
resigned sigh. "I saw you in my temple and I was curious. I could hardly
appear to you as myself, I would have frightened you more than that old
priest already had. So I disguised myself as a boy, someone you'd trust
instinctively. I never intended it to go past that first meeting."

Joxer knew it shouldn't hurt to hear those words. Ares had lied to him; for
all he knew they'd all lied to him; Aphrodite, Cupid, even Strife. He'd
learned to trust them so quickly, and as much as he told himself not to get
used to it he knew it would be hard to go back to Greece after spending so
much time as Love's guest. The idea that they'd all known all along that
he'd been a fool all this time…that was too much, it was worse than
Gabrielle's impatience or even Xena's dismissing all of his attempts to
learn to be a stronger warrior. It hurt more than knowing that his own
parents had never really wanted him, even more than learning that it had
been his own brother who betrayed him when they were sixteen. Knowing all
his new friends had lied to him was a bigger betrayal than Jett telling
their father about Joxer and Timo, but knowing that Ares had lied to him was
the biggest betrayal of all.

"You lied," Joxer said, his voice rough with the effort to hold back all the
emotions fighting for control. "You let me believe…I wanted to die, Ares.
And for what? For a lie."

"No. It wasn't a lie, not the parts that mattered. I let you believe that
he…that I was dead because I wanted to spare you any more pain. I hoped if
you thought Timo was gone that you could get on with your own life."

He could tell that part of Ares really wanted to believe that, but knowing
that didn't make him feel any less betrayed. It didn't take away the hurt
or the humiliation, and it didn't give him back the one thing he'd longed
for his whole life. It didn't change the fact that Ares had made him fall
in love with someone who didn't even exist, and it didn't erase the
knowledge that everything they were to each other was because Ares had taken
pity on a weak, lonely little boy. They'd never been the kindred spirits
Joxer had always thought they were; he was only a mortal, someone for Ares
to watch over and occasionally use for his own amusement.

That thought made Joxer's stomach pitch violently, and he found himself
backing toward the door that led out of the garden. "You were right about
one thing," Joxer said, ignoring the tremble in his voice and forcing
himself to hold Ares' gaze. "Timo is dead. You killed him."

"Joxer, wait," Ares said, moving forward with a quiet grace that Joxer
finally recognized as the same grace he'd admired in Timo years before.
"Please…wait. You're wrong, he's not dead. I'm still that boy, the body is
different but everything else is the same."

Something about the way Ares said the word 'please' made Joxer's heart twist
painfully, and he sucked in a sharp breath and turned away from the other
man. All he could do was shake his head, because he was afraid that if he
tried to answer with words that he'd find himself giving in. Part of him
wanted to stay, to listen to the explanation he was almost sure Ares had
prepared. He wanted to believe whatever Ares said, but he knew that no
matter how hard he tried, part of him would doubt whatever he heard. Ares
had lied to him almost his entire life, there was no way he could put his
trust in that again.

He was nearly to the door, his back to Ares and his shoulders squared
defiantly, when he felt a strong hand close around his arm. He knew it was
only a fraction of Ares' strength, but he still winced when he felt himself
suddenly pressed flat against the heavy wooden door and facing a frustrated
god of War. "There are things you don't understand," Ares said, anger and
something else flashing in his eyes.

"I understand everything I need to," Joxer answered. He expected to sound
frightened, for his voice to break on the words or maybe to fail him
completely, but he sounded surprisingly calm.

"I could force you to stay."

Just for a second Joxer found himself wishing that Ares would hold him there
against his will, that he'd wrap Joxer in strong arms and flash them back to
his own temple where no one would be able to get to them until they'd worked
everything out one way or another. The rest of him was still too hurt and
confused to make sense of anything, though, and he knew if he stayed it
would only make things worse. He'd already said things that hurt them both,
and looking at Ares and knowing he was the same person Joxer had been
mourning was too much.

His eyes flooded with tears, but he blinked them back mercilessly and
reached up with the hand that wasn't pinned down to wipe at the burning in
his eyes. He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders as well as he
could under Ares' firm grip, forcing himself to meet the other man's steady
gaze. "He belonged to me. You belong to your warlords and the other gods,
Ares, but he was mine. At least let me have that."

"He belonged to both of us," Ares answered quietly, regret flashing in his
eyes for a split second before he let go of Joxer. Almost immediately he
moved forward again and Joxer thought maybe he'd changed his mind, but
instead of grabbing hold of Joxer again he simply leaned forward and pressed
a soft kiss to his lips. A second later he was gone, leaving nothing where
he'd been standing but a slight stirring in the air. Joxer pressed his
fingers to his mouth and leaned heavily against the door, his shoulders
slumping as he reminded himself to breathe. For a few perfect moments
everything had been exactly the way he'd hoped for so long; he'd been in the
arms of the one person that understood him, the one person that had loved
him for exactly who he was with no expectations of more. Then just like
that it was gone again, and he was left alone and wondering how to go on
alone.

Feeling sorry for himself wouldn't change the truth, though; there was
nothing he could do to change the fact that the man he'd thought he loved
was gone forever. He'd never even existed, and the joke was on Joxer
because for fifteen years he'd mourned the loss of something that had turned
out to be a lie. He swallowed against a fresh surge of anger and pushed
himself off the door, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves before he
forced his legs to carry him back into Aphrodite's temple.

He found all of them exactly where he expected to, Cupid and Strife huddled
together on a couch and trying not to look as though they'd been waiting for
him to reappear. Even Aphrodite looked nervous, or at least what Joxer
assumed was nervous for her. As soon as he walked into the room Cupid paled
and clutched a little harder at Strife's hand, but Joxer ignored both of
them and turned to look at the goddess he'd come to think of as a friend.
"If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to go home now, Aphrodite."

"But you just got here, Joxie," she said, doing her best to sound cheerful
even though he could tell by her expression that she could feel his
heartache as well as Cupid could. "Don't tell me you're tired of us
already."

"Please," he said quietly, working hard to keep his voice even long enough
to make her see that he was serious. "I think it's best for everyone if I
went home."

"Whatever Ares said, he didn't mean it." She stood up and slid her arm
through his, glancing over at her son and nephew before she turned back to
Joxer and lowered her voice. "He loses his temper when he's stressed, it
doesn't mean anything. He's probably freaking out right now and trying to
come up with a way to say he's sorry."

Joxer took a deep breath and gently shook his arm out of Aphrodite's grip,
swallowing hard against the lump rising in his throat. " I don't belong
here. Please, Aphrodite."

For a long moment she stared back at him, and for the first time since he
found himself on Olympus he was afraid that he'd never be able to go back.
It had never occurred to him that maybe there was no going back, and they
just hadn't wanted to tell him until Ares got around to confessing the
truth. He'd always known he was at their mercy, but he'd never felt more
vulnerable than he did in that moment. Not all the times his father had
beaten him as a child, not any of the times he'd tried and failed to be a
warrior, not even when he'd made love for the first time.

Panic rose in his stomach, threatening to squeeze the last of his breath out
of him. He knew it showed clearly on his face, but there was no way he
could keep his fear out of his expression. Aphrodite noticed almost
immediately, a heavy sigh escaping her throat as she reached up to cup his
cheek. "I can't keep you here if you want to leave. But think about what
you're doing, Joxie. He loves you."

"He doesn't even know me," Joxer answered, tearing his gaze away from hers.
It hurt just to say the words out loud, and he found himself fighting back a
fresh round of tears.

Finally Aphrodite relented, a frown marring her perfect features as she
nodded and reached for him again. He didn't try to pull away when she slid
an arm around his waist and rested her forehead on his shoulder, and he felt
damp heat seeping through his shirt a second before the room blurred and
then disappeared. When the universe solidified again he found himself in a
quickly darkening clearing, his small bundle of belongings on the ground in
front of him. There was a bedroll at his feet as well, but it wasn't the
one he'd been using when Ares found him and took him back to Olympus. This
one was thicker and made of a much finer material, and Joxer frowned to
himself as he ran his hand along what could only be divine craftsmanship.

He sighed and said a quick prayer of thanks to Aphrodite, making a mental
note to find someone that needed a soft place to sleep more than he did. He
pushed his bag a little further up his shoulder and made his way across the
clearing, stopping when he reached the small fire. He smiled in spite of
his mood when he found himself suddenly draped in Gabrielle, her face
pressed against his chest and her arms squeezing the air out of him.

"Joxer, where have you been? We were afraid they'd done something to you,"
Gabrielle said, lifting her head long enough to steal a quick glance at
Xena. "Not that they're all bad, it's just that they're gods, and you've
been gone for days and no one would tell us anything."

"Gabrielle, slow down," Xena said, standing up and carefully peeling the
smaller woman off Joxer so he could breathe. When she was sure Joxer wasn't
going to pass out from lack of oxygen she patted him on the back, her warm
smile betraying her own relief at seeing him unharmed. "It's good to have
you back, Joxer."

"Thanks," he said, ignoring two sets of raised eyebrows as he set his new
bedroll down next to the fire. "I really missed you guys."

"So tell us what happened," Gabrielle said, tugging impatiently on his arm
as they took seats next to the fire. "What were you doing on Olympus?"

His eyes clouded as he turned to stare into the fire, all his happiness at
seeing his friends again flowing out of him when he remembered why he'd
returned so suddenly. "If it's all the same to you I'd rather not talk
about it."

"Not talk about it?" Gabrielle repeated, shock and disappointment clear in
her voice. "Joxer, you can't be serious. You were on Olympus for over a
week, you have to tell us *something*."

"Gabrielle," Xena said, sending the other woman a sharp glance that told her
not to push him to talk about it. Joxer pretended not to notice when
Gabrielle swallowed and nodded, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his
mouth when he felt Xena's arm slide around his shoulders. "It's your
business, Joxer. You can tell us when you're ready."

He nodded and glanced over at her, hoping she'd read his gratitude in his
smile. There was no way he'd be able to answer her without breaking down,
and if he started crying not even Xena would back down until he told her
what was wrong. He didn't want to think about the past week, he didn't want
to remember how comfortable he'd become on Olympus or how much he'd begun to
look forward to his visits from Ares. He wasn't going to think about their
last conversation, and he definitely was not going to relive that kiss. It
was in the past, and that was where it was going to stay. It was just
another thing he had to forget, and he was going to forget Ares and Timo if
he had to die trying.


"This is bad."

Strife didn't bother to fight the urge to roll his eyes; Cupid's back was to
him, and anyway it was obvious that things were bad. They were just as bad
as Strife had predicted they were going to be, and while he wasn't really
one to point out when he was right about something he had the sudden urge to
say 'I told ya so'. Instead he sank a little lower in the black leather
chair, his gaze following Cupid as he paced back and forth in the hallway in
front of Ares' bedroom.

"Cupe, yer gonna wear a hole in the floor."

"I don't understand how you can just sit there," Cupid snapped, stopping
short and planting his hands on his hips. "Don't you even care that Dad's
heart is broken in like a million pieces?"

"Course I care," Strife answered. "Who do ya think's been payin' the price?
Ya know he's gonna take it out on everybody around him, and since Jox
split that means me."

A heavy sigh escaped Cupid's throat, followed by a frown as he glanced at
the closed door to his father's room again. "I should've just shot Joxer
and handed him over," he muttered to himself.

Strife was tempted to point out that it wasn't too late, but he didn't
bother because he knew Ares wouldn't go for it anyway. If they put some
kind of spell on Joxer Ares would be able to smell it all the way from
Greece, and then he'd just make their lives even more miserable. No, there
had to be a way to make Joxer see that Ares hadn't meant to lie to him; that
was the only way they were ever going to work things out. And even though
he hadn't said it out loud, Strife was more than a little worried that if
they didn't work it out Ares was never going to be the same again.

"Nah. You were right the first time, Cupe. Unc never woulda gone fer that.
We gonna think of another way. What about yer mom? It is kinda her
mess."

"Don't let her hear you say that," Cupid said, a weak grin tugging at the
corners of his mouth. It was worth risking Aphrodite's wrath to see Cupid
smile even just a little, and Strife found himself grinning back at the
other god.

"Okay, so it's more Unc's mess than hers. But if she wasn't so nutso over
Jox this wouldn'ta happened. 'Sides, she's always mutterin' 'bout how Unc'd
be a lot less moody if he was gettin' some on a regular basis. She's gotta
be workin' on some kinda plan."

Cupid's grin faded, his expression turning thoughtful as he turned back to
Strife. "She must be, she's the one that told me to keep an eye on Dad. I
guess I should go give her an update."

"Sure, Cupe. I'm gonna stay here in case Unc needs somebody ta throw stuff
at." He grinned when Cupid shook his head, leaning up long enough for Cupid
to kiss him goodbye. By the time Cupid disappeared he was already lost in
thought again, considering and ruling out every bit of mischief he'd ever
used. The problem was that they weren't just messing with some unsuspecting
mortal's head; this was Ares, and he knew every single one of their tricks.
There was no way for Strife to trick Ares into being in the right place when
Joxer just happened to show up, he'd know it was a set-up just like he'd
know if Cupid shot Joxer and brought him back to Olympus.

So there was nothing Strife could do, but he couldn't stand to see his uncle
suffer anymore. It had only been a couple days, but he'd never seen Ares
so…well, depressed. Part of him wished Ares *would* throw something at him,
or scream or do anything that let Strife know he hadn't totally lost it. He
kept telling Cupid that Ares was taking his frustration out on Strife so
Cupid wouldn't worry about his father, but the truth was that Strife had
barely seen Ares since the day Joxer went back to Greece.

There wasn't anything Cupid could do; not even Aphrodite had been able to
come up with anything, and the more Strife thought about it the more he knew
that there was only one person that could set things right. The question
was whether or not anybody would be able to get through to Joxer when Ares
hadn't been able to do it. Strife pushed himself out of his chair,
schooling his features into the most serious expression he could muster. It
was worth a try, anyway, and even if he couldn't talk some sense into Joxer
at least he'd know he'd given it a shot.

He rematerialized near a small river not far from the road, looking around
until he caught sight of Joxer. He was standing waist-deep in the water,
oblivious to the sounds of splashing and muted laughter from Xena and
Gabrielle a little ways down the river. Slowly Strife made his way to the
edge of the bank, debating for a moment whether or not he should read
Joxer's thoughts and find out whether or not he was brooding about Ares.
The look on his face was enough to answer that question, though, and Strife
shook his head and let out a small sigh before finally calling out to the
mortal. "Hey, Jox."

At the sound of his name Joxer looked up sharply, the fear and tension in
his features fading to resignation when he saw Strife. "What are you doing
here?"

"Just came ta see how yer doin'," Strife answered. "Ya took off pretty
quick, didn't even get a chance ta say so long."

Joxer frowned at the memory, but he turned toward the bank and slowly began
making his way out of the water. "You came all the way down here to say
goodbye to me?"

"I just told ya, I came ta see how yer doin'." Strife rolled his eyes as
though that much should be obvious, taking a seat on the ground and leaning
back on his hands to watch Joxer dry off. "Ya sure ya don't want me ta make
ya some new clothes? It'd just take a second."

Joxer shook his head, but the small, self-conscious smile he couldn't quite
hide let Strife know he appreciated the offer. He'd turned down all their
offers of gifts while he'd been on Olympus, insisting that his own things
were good enough and that there were people that needed the gods' help far
more than he did. Strife had never really understood the business of
self-sacrifice, but he liked Joxer enough to respect his wishes. Once Joxer
was dressed and sitting a companionable distance away from him Strife leaned
forward, resting his arms on his knees as he studied the other man's
profile.

"So yer really gonna go through with it, huh?"

"Go through with what?"

"This," Strife answered, waving his hand impatiently at their surroundings.
"Yer just gonna go back ta hangin' out with Xena and Blondie and forget all
about what ya coulda had?"

"What I could have…" Joxer trailed off, and wow, Strife had no idea that he
could look that angry. He'd never seen Joxer actually lose his temper
except for those few seconds with his dad, and they'd missed most of that
show by the time they got there. He'd always figured Joxer for the type to
back down from a fight when it came right down to it, but the fact that he
wasn't worried about getting pissed off at a god actually made Strife
respect him a little more. When he spoke again his voice was carefully
controlled, and Strife could tell he was trying not to lose it. "Look,
Strife, I appreciate everything you've all done for me, really. But this is
my life. I'm a mortal, this is where I belong. There's nothing for me on
Olympus."

"Ya don't believe that, Jox, I know ya don't. Ya asked Dite ta find yer
friend fer ya, right? Well, we found him and we handed him over, just like
ya wanted. So what's the problem? He's still just as crazy about ya as he
was when ya were a kid."

Joxer shook his head and looked away, his jaw set in a way that let Strife
know he wasn't really interested in listening to reason. Not that Strife
could really blame him; Ares could have told him the truth a long time ago,
but not even Joxer knew how he would have reacted if Ares had told him who
he really was when Joxer was still a kid. There was no way to go back and
change the past, not without getting in a lot of trouble, anyway, so Strife
just had to convince Joxer that Ares had a good reason for keeping quiet.

"Look, ya liked Ares before ya knew he was yer long-lost boyfriend, right?
Ya had to like him, ya asked me about a million questions about him."

A faint blush crept into the mortal's cheeks, and he ventured a quick glance
at Strife before looking away again. "Of course I did. He's…how could I
not have had feelings for him? He's strong and handsome and he was always
so interested in what I had to say. Nobody's ever cared what I thought, not
really. Not since…"

He didn't say the name, but he didn't have to remind Strife of who he was
talking about. "He's still that same guy, Jox. And he's still nuts about
ya. Even if he's too proud ta do anythin' about it."

"It doesn't matter," Joxer said, his voice low with the effort to keep it
from shaking. "He lied, he said Timo was dead. Even when he knew how much
I still loved him, he lied. He could have just come to me and told me the
truth when I first asked Aphrodite for help. Or when I ran away all those
years ago because I thought it was the only way to protect him. Can you
believe that? Me, trying to protect the god of War."

Joxer choked on a bitter laugh, clearing his throat and looking away so
Strife wouldn't see the tears stinging his eyes. In a way it was kind of
funny, but it was kind of sweet too. At least Strife thought so, and he was
pretty sure that was the way Ares would see it. There was no way he was
ever going to be able to ask, though, not as long as Joxer wouldn't talk to
him. No one would dare to even bring up Joxer's name around Ares unless
they found a way to work things out, and Ares obviously wasn't going to make
the first move.

"Think about it from his place fer a second," Strife said, shifting a little
closer to Joxer so he could see the other man's expression. "I mean when he
first noticed ya how old were ya?"

"Ten."

"Tartarus, Jox, you were just a baby." He'd known Joxer was young when Ares
fell in love with him, but he hadn't bothered to get all the details before
now. Knowing that changed things; he understood for the first time why it
was so hard for Ares to tell Joxer the truth, and why things had gotten so
complicated. "Unc couldn'ta been expectin' ta fall in love. Not with a
kid."

"We were just friends until I was fourteen," Joxer said, his cheeks an even
brighter shade of pink as he carefully avoided Strife's gaze. "Then I
kissed him."

Strife raised his eyebrows at the tone of Joxer's voice, but he knew better
than to push the mortal before he was ready. He could hear the regret in
Joxer's words, though, and he couldn't help wondering if it was because
Joxer wished he'd never kissed Ares back then or if it was because he was
missing what they had. "Do ya remember what that felt like?"

"What?" The question surprised Joxer into looking up again, forgetting his
embarrassment long enough to frown at the god.

"The first time ya kissed him. Do ya remember how ya felt right before ya
did it?"

"Of course," Joxer answered, fresh regret creeping into his eyes as he
turned away from Strife. "I was terrified that he was going to laugh at me,
or push me away and I'd never see him again. I thought I was going to lose
him."

"So why lose him when ya know ya don't hafta? Didn't he tell ya how crazy
he still is about ya?"

Joxer opened his mouth to answer, but before he got the words out he was
interrupted by the sound of Xena calling his name. A few seconds later she
rounded the bend in the river, stopping short when she realized Joxer wasn't
alone. "Strife? What are you doing here?"

"Hey, cuz," he said, grinning as he stood up and turned to face her. "Just
checkin' in on Jox. How're things goin' with Blondie?" His grin grew a
little wider when Xena scowled at him, a blush he'd never thought she'd be
capable of rising in her cheeks. "Cupe'll be glad ta hear it. See ya,
cuz."

He turned back to Joxer long enough to wink at him, hoping the mortal would
at least think about what he'd said. A second later he was gone, leaving
Joxer at Xena's mercy. He knew she was probably dying to ask him what
Strife had really wanted from him, but he still hadn't told his friend about
his time on Olympus and he wasn't about to start now.

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Joxer assured her, ignoring the nagging voice in the
back of his mind reminding him that everything was far from fine. In fact
he was almost sure nothing would ever be alright again, because he'd spent
the past few days doing nothing but think about Ares. He'd tried everything
he could think of to put the god out of his mind, but no matter what he did
thoughts of Ares kept creeping back into his consciousness.

Only now his memories of Timo were all mixed up with his memories of his
time on Olympus, and each new memory reminded him of some similarity between
Ares and the boy he'd fallen in love with almost twenty years ago. There
had been a thousand little clues, but he'd never picked up on any of them
because he hadn't wanted to know. But he should have been able to tell,
shouldn't he? Shouldn't he have recognized the love of his life no matter
what he looked like now?

A heavy sigh escaped his throat as he followed Xena back toward the clearing
where they planned to spend the night, but he ignored her concerned
expression and the questions he knew she was dying to ask. She and
Gabrielle had shown an amazing amount of restraint since Aphrodite had sent
him back to Greece, and even though he knew Gabbie was dying to ask
questions he appreciated the fact that they respected his privacy. Part of
him wanted to be able to confide in his friends, to talk to *someone* who
might be able to help him make sense of what he was feeling. He knew how
they felt about Ares, though, and he knew them well enough to know they'd
have a hard time seeing past who he was long enough to understand what Joxer
was going through.

It was hard for even Joxer to believe that Ares had feelings for him, even
after all the time they'd spent together. Even now that he knew that Ares
had been watching him his whole life it was hard to believe, and he still
felt as though he was waiting to wake up from an amazing and terrible dream.
Only this was no dream, because if it was his heart wouldn't ache so much
that it was hard to breathe, and he wouldn't find himself wishing every so
often that he'd just let Ares explain why he'd done it.

The worst part wasn't even that Ares had lied to him; the thing that hurt
the most was that for just a few moments he'd had Timo back again, he'd had
everything he'd ever wanted and he'd lost it all over again. Losing the
love of his life once was bad enough, but to know he was still out there and
that Joxer had walked away…sometimes he hated himself for walking away from
Ares that way, because no matter how much it hurt to know he lied he
couldn't deny that Ares cared about him.

He'd tried; gods, how he'd tried to convince himself that Ares had just been
using an innocent mortal for his own amusement. The thought still left a
bitter taste in his mouth, but no matter how hard he'd tried to convince
himself it was true, he knew better. He knew those six years hadn't all
been a lie, because if Ares was just using him he would have gotten bored
long before Joxer ever got old enough to fall in love with him. And even
when Joxer was old enough to know what he wanted Ares had asked him if he
was sure; he'd taken things so slowly that sometimes Joxer felt like crying
from frustration, so there was no way it had all been a lie.

He still hated that Ares hadn't told him the truth years ago, but part of
him wanted to understand why Ares had done it. He wanted another chance to
understand, but most of all he wanted to hear that voice again and feel
those arms that made him feel so safe no matter what was happening around
them. They'd already let fifteen years pass them by, and there was no
telling how much time he had left. People died around him every day, and he
didn't want to spend eternity regretting the decision to walk out on Ares
just because he was hurt by a lie.

Until Strife showed up he hadn't been sure Ares would still want to see him;
he'd been afraid for days that walking away like that had cost him his last
chance, but now that he knew Ares was in as much pain as he was he knew what
he had to do. It was surprisingly easy to make the decision, especially
considering how much time he'd spent telling himself to just forget Ares and
get on with his life. Now that he knew that it wasn't too late he felt
lighter, as though Strife's visit had finally lifted off the weight he'd
been carrying around since he left Olympus.

His pulse was pounding so loud against his ears when he finally made his
decision that he was barely aware of the soft conversation across the fire,
and he didn't notice the fact that his traveling companions were watching
him curiously. He took the plate Gabrielle handed to him without looking at
it, his mind already far away from the little clearing on the edge of the
woods. There was no way for him to know whether or not it was too late, and
the truth was that he didn't even know how to go about finding out. All he
knew was that he'd wasted too much time already, and he couldn't live the
rest of his life not knowing if he'd made the right decision.

"I have to go," he said quietly, the sound of his voice surprising even him.
He wasn't even sure he'd actually said it out loud until he looked up to
find Xena and Gabrielle staring at him in wide-eyed surprise. "There's
something I have to do."

"Where do you have to go?" Xena asked, setting her own plate down carefully
before she focused on Joxer again.

"There's someone I need to speak to. In Thebes," he added quickly. He
wanted to go home, back to the old temple where it had all started, but that
would take days and he didn't want to run the risk of talking himself out of
what he'd decided to do.

"We'll go with you," Xena said, and it was obvious from her expression that
she thought Joxer might have lost more than a few days while he was staying
with Aphrodite. "If we leave first thing in the morning we can make it in
time to get a room at the inn."

Joxer nodded slowly, finally picking up his fork and looking down at his
plate. He knew it wouldn't do any good to argue with her, and at least this
way they wouldn't worry when they woke up in the morning and found him gone.


Before he even set out for Thebes Joxer questioned what he was doing; the
moment he rounded the first bend in the road and left the soft glow of the
fire behind him he wondered if it was wise to act on such a rash decision.
It hadn't been that long, after all, and he couldn't expect to put Ares out
of his mind completely in just a few days. Given enough time he wanted to
believe that he could forget what almost happened between them, but try as
he might to believe that, he knew it wasn't true.

Leaving Ares behind hadn't gotten any easier in the past few days because he
wouldn't let it; there was a tiny part of him that clung tightly to the
knowledge that Ares cared for him, maybe as much as he ever had. As much as
he wanted to hate the god he'd worshipped his whole life he couldn't do it,
not when he remembered the way Ares smiled at him or the way he touched
Joxer as though he was afraid a single touch might break him. And Joxer
felt broken, but it had nothing to do with the way Ares had touched him. It
was the knowledge that no matter how much he wished he could just leave the
past in the past and move on, he'd never be able to stop regretting what
he'd given up.

He needed to talk it all out with someone who would understand, and even
though he knew Strife and even Aphrodite meant well, there was really only
one person who would understand completely. And it felt strange to be
seeking out the very person he'd run from so that he could talk about how
much it hurt to walk away, but somehow he had a feeling that Ares would
understand. Maybe he wanted to talk just as much as Joxer did, if for no
other reason than so they could finally put the past to rest, and if he
didn't want to talk at least Joxer would know that he was listening. It
wasn't the same as talking it out together, but at least it was something.
He just needed to tell Ares what he'd been thinking since he found out the
truth, then he could finally put it all behind him and move on.

The sun was coming up when he finally caught sight of Thebes on the horizon,
his heart picking up speed as the city gate came into view. He'd spent most
of the night trying to come up with something to say once he got to Ares'
temple, but so far he hadn't thought of anything that didn't sound
ridiculous. He didn't even have an offering to make; it hadn't seemed like
the kind of situation that would require one, but the closer he got to the
temple the more aware he was of how his visit would look to the priests. It
all seemed so unlikely that he was tempted to turn around and forget the
whole thing, but he knew if he did that he'd just torture himself until he
finally found his way right back to where he was standing.

It didn’t matter where he went, because no matter what town or village he
found himself in there would always be a temple nearby. There would always
be some reminder of what he was trying to forget; even looking at Xena
reminded him of what he’d lost, so there was no use trying to run from it.
He forced his legs to carry him forward, into the center of the city toward
the road he knew led to Ares' temple. He barely noticed the city slowly
waking up around him as he made his way to the temple, stopping when he
finally reached the massive stone steps and taking a deep breath to steady
his nerves.

He wished he knew how Xena and Hercules did brave things every day, because
all he was planning to do was have a conversation and he was terrified. It
didn't seem fair that they could rush into any situation without even
thinking about it while he was standing at the entrance to Ares' temple
trying not to shake. Then again, he wasn't a hero; he was just…him, and
he'd never felt less prepared for anything in his life. Just walking up the
stairs to the temple was harder than any fight he'd ever found himself in
the middle of, harder than his first sixteen years in his father's house and
harder even than leaving home when he did. He'd never had so much to lose
before, and the fact that he'd already lost it just made it harder to force
himself to take those last few steps.

Part of him expected to feel some kind of pull when he got closer to the
temple; some supernatural connection maybe, or just the presence of the man
he loved so much that he couldn't stay away no matter how betrayed he felt.
It was a little disappointing to find that there was no magic force drawing
him forward, no overpowering weight in the air that let him know that Ares
was waiting for him. There was nothing, really, but cool stone and the
quiet peace of the temple at dawn.

A few priests moved around the altar, preparing for the long day of
offerings and petitions ahead of them, but none of them took any notice of
Joxer. For a few moments he wondered if he was really there or if he'd
fallen asleep along the road at some point when he stopped to rest, and now
he was dreaming walking through the temple. It was the only explanation he
could come up with for why the priests were ignoring him instead of
demanding to know what he wanted and then ushering him out of the temple
until they were ready to receive visitors. No one stopped him on his way to
the altar, and when he knelt in front of an imposing stone likeness of Ares
himself the last of the priests disappeared into the back of the temple,
leaving him alone in the altar room.

He shifted nervously on his knees, trying to find a comfortable position on
the stone floor. Now that he was here he wasn't sure how to start, what to
say to make Ares understand what he wanted. He didn't even know what he
wanted, not really. All he knew was that he needed to understand why Ares
had let him go without a word, if he ever regretted it and if he'd thought
about Joxer at all in the years they'd been apart. The questions were all
jumbled in his head, though, and he couldn't just start firing off a bunch
of questions into the silence in the hopes that Ares was listening.

It wasn't a prayer, at least not the kind of prayer he usually prayed to
Ares. When he found the time to stop in one of Ares' temples during his
travels he always started with an offering, some small token of his loyalty
and a short, fervent prayer to make him an strong and brave like Xena. Then
he left before he wasted too much of Ares' time, because he wasn't really a
warrior and technically he wasn't supposed to be in the temple. At least
he'd never thought he should be there; he'd seen the looks Ares' priests
gave him when he came to pray, and he'd always assumed Ares would feel the
same way if he ever bothered to pay attention. Now that he knew how closely
Ares had been listening he was paralyzed with the fear of saying the wrong
thing.

He couldn't just kneel there forever, though; for one thing Xena would come
looking for him eventually, and once she started asking around someone was
bound to point her in the direction of the temple. Besides, the stone
underneath him wasn't really meant for long prayers, and his knees were
already starting to hurt. He briefly contemplated delivering what he knew
would be a rambling, confused speech in the form of a silent prayer, but
when he looked around and found himself still alone he took a chance and
cleared his throat.

"Ares," he began, surprised to find that the name didn't sound nearly as
strange in his voice as he'd expected it to, "I guess you're wondering why
I'm here."

He stopped and grinned nervously, finally remembering to remove his helmet
and setting it down on the floor next to him. He winced at the clang of
metal against stone, but when none of the priests reappeared to ask him what
he was doing he relaxed and took a deep breath. "I've been doing a lot of
thinking, and I think...no, I *need* to understand why. I know I was young
when we first met. But I wasn't a child when we..." He trailed off with a
blush, wondering belatedly if the fact that he couldn't see any priests
meant that they couldn't hear him. He cleared his throat again and lowered
his voice, focusing his attention on the statue towering over him. "I
wasn't a child when I left home. I think - at least I hope - I would have
understood. All the things you used to tell me about Olympus, when you said
we'd see it together someday, you meant all that, didn't you?"

It had been a long time since he thought about all the promises Timo had
made to him, all the talk about the future and the things they'd discover
together. At the time Joxer had thought it was just talk, just two boys
dreaming about a future far away from their tiny world. After he left home
he wouldn't let himself think about it, because knowing that future would
never come to pass hurt too much. Even now his chest ached with the
knowledge that Ares had the power to give him everything he'd promised and
more. The only problem was that Joxer had no idea if Ares still wanted to
give him all that, or if he'd decided it wasn't worth the trouble.

"If you didn't...I mean if you don't still want all that...with me, that's
okay. So much has happened since then, practically a lifetime." As soon as
he said the words out loud Joxer realized for the first time that it was
true; to Ares it might have felt like no time at all, but Joxer didn't have
the luxury of immortality. Eventually his time would run out, and he'd
already let half his life pass by without the one person that could have
made everything right. He didn't know what Ares wanted, he didn't even know
how relationships between humans and gods worked. He knew about Hercules'
mother and Zeus, of course, he'd heard all the stories about gods coming
down to Greece for a little distraction. Cupid had even married Psyche, but
she was a nymph and he wasn't sure if it worked the same way with humans.

He shifted until he was sitting back on his heels, studying the statue in
front of him as he tried to collect his thoughts. The truth was that Ares
might not even be listening, and if that was the case Joxer was just going
to leave here more confused than ever. He had no way of knowing, though, so
all he could do was keep going and hope for the best.

"This statue really doesn't do you justice," he said before he even realized
he'd been thinking it. As soon as he said it out loud he realized it was
true; the Ares he knew had much softer features, and the statue couldn't
possibly capture the light that danced in his eyes when he smiled. Of
course the likeness of War wouldn't be smiling in one of his main temples,
but it was hard to have a conversation with a statue that didn't look that
much like the man he knew. "It's a very nice statue, of course. But it's
missing...something. I know you have to look strong and scary because of
the warlords and everything, but it doesn't *feel* like you."

That was when he felt it; a tiny nudge of energy in the air, so subtle that
at first he was almost sure he'd imagined it. When he felt it close around
him in a rush of warmth he knew it was real, and he sucked in a sharp breath
when he felt the tingle along his skin. A moment later it was gone, but it
was enough to let him know that he wasn't wasting his time. He imagined
that Ares was probably trying to make him feel more comfortable, but somehow
knowing for sure that the god was listening made him even more nervous.

Part of him wished that Ares would appear, but the rest of him knew that it
was easier to say what he'd come to say while they weren't face to face. If
Ares was there in front of him Joxer would be tempted to give up looking for
answers and lose himself in the strong, surprisingly gentle touch he'd
craved for so long. There were parts of him that thought that was a great
idea, but he knew it would only delay the inevitable. Eventually he'd have
to ask all his questions, and he needed to know before he gave his heart
away again if he could live with the answers.

When he felt another soft caress of energy against his neck he nodded almost
imperceptibly, looking back up at the statue again. "When I left Olympus…I
felt betrayed, but not just by you. By Aphrodite and Cupid and Strife too;
they all knew and none of them ever said anything, even though they knew how
hard it was for me to know - to think - you were dead. Finding out that
Timo was alive and that he was...well, you - I felt like I'd been given
everything I'd ever wished for, then it was all gone again."

He knew he wasn't making any sense, and he stopped and closed his eyes
against the surge of nervous energy making his chest tight. There was no
way he'd ever get through everything he needed to say, but at least he'd
gotten some of it out. The temple was still silent except for the sound of
his own breathing, and with his eyes closed it was easy to pretend he was
back in the run-down temple near Araxova. He could almost hear the stream
running in the woods, the sound of leaves rustling in the trees just outside
the temple. Imagining he was back in familiar territory made it a little
easier to breathe, so he squeezed his eyes shut a little tighter and tried
again.

"I tried to forget. Maybe I didn't try long enough, but it's been fifteen
years and I'm not sure I can spend another fifteen years trying." He
laughed nervously at the joke, shivering against another gentle shift in the
air. "I just...I want to understand. Why you let me go, why you never told
me the truth. Did you ever think about me? I know you're a god and you're
busy and I'm sure you were glad to have me out of your hair, but did
it...did it mean *anything*?"

He stopped talking abruptly, afraid if he tried to continue that he'd choke
on the sob rising in his throat. And now he knew that this had been a
mistake, because the only thing worse than Ares laughing at him was Ares
feeling sorry for him. He could stand mocking, he'd gotten used to people
laughing at him a long time ago. It hurt more to think that it was the
person he'd first given his heart to laughing at his naiveté, but he could
live with that. What he couldn't live with was Ares knowing how much pain
he was in and taking pity on him, not after everything Joxer thought they'd
meant to each other.

Part of him wanted to open his eyes, to stand up and turn around and leave
before Ares saw what this was doing to him. He wasn't sure he'd be able to
stand on his own, though, and the thought of collapsing in Ares' temple was
too much. Finally he shook his head, swallowing against the hard lump in
his throat and forcing himself to continue. "I know you're a god, and I'm
just a mortal. You're more than a god...you're War, and I don't have any
right...I can't question anything you do. But you said you loved me, and I
need to know if it was ever true, or if you were just trying to make me feel
better."

The last part came out in one long rush of breath, and by the time he
finished speaking Joxer's heartbeat was pounding so hard against his
eardrums that he could barely hear the sound of his own voice. There was
still no answer, and as he waited some of the fear and embarrassment began
to give way to anger. He didn't even feel Ares' presence in the air around
him anymore, and suddenly he found himself wondering if the god had stopped
listening. He tried to remember what he'd said that might have offended
Ares, but he had a right to know why Ares had done what he did. He had a
right to know if any of it was real, and the longer he waited the angrier he
got.

"Ares," he said, his eyes fluttering open automatically. When he focused on
the scene in front of him he forgot all about his question, his anger giving
way to confusion and more than a little fear. "How...where am I?"

The stone underneath him was much older and far more worn than the stone
floor of the temple in Thebes, and the statue that had been in front of him
when he closed his eyes was gone. There was still no sign of anyone else in
the temple, but there was a small altar in front of him and the walls were
decorated with fraying tapestries of various battle scenes. There was
something familiar about the scene, and he rose to his feet without thinking
and turned in a wide circle.

"It can't be," he said, frowning when he realized why it felt familiar. It
only took a few seconds to cross to the entrance to the temple, blinking
against the early morning light as he took in the clearing and the row of
trees that hid a small stream in the woods behind Araxova.

He had to be dreaming; it was the only explanation for the entire strange
morning. Any minute now he was going to wake up cramped and cold from
sleeping on the side of the road, and he was going to have to go through all
of this again. But he wasn't waking up, and it definitely felt real. He
could feel the crisp early morning breeze against his skin, and he could
make out the sound of the stream that ran behind the temple.

Slowly he turned back toward the altar, intent on either finding a way to
wake himself up or finding a priest and making him summon Ares. As soon as
his gaze landed on the altar he stopped short, his heart in his throat when
he found himself face to face with Ares himself. "There's no need to
disturb my priest," Ares said, his voice soft in the silence of the temple.

"What...how did I get here?" Joxer asked, although he already knew the
answer.

"You asked me a question," Ares said, stopping when he was standing less
than two feet away from the mortal. "I thought this would be the best place
to answer. Also my well-intentioned, if somewhat annoying daughter
discovered your early departure. She's almost to Thebes by now, and I
didn't want to run the risk of any unnecessary interruptions."

Joxer's earlier confusion was nothing compared to the questions swarming in
his head now, starting with why Ares felt it necessary to bring them all the
way back here to answer a simple question. He knew he must look as confused
as he felt, because he felt Ares' hand land on his cheek, strong fingers
caressing his skin for a moment before he pulled away again.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know, Joxer. All you have to do is
ask."

Joxer shook his head to try to clear the fog quickly settling over his
brain. Part of him wanted to ask everything he'd come to ask, but there was
a small, insistent voice in the back of his head telling him he already had
all the answers he needed. He wouldn't let himself believe that Ares
bringing him here meant anything, though; for all he knew Ares just wanted a
less conspicuous place to finally settle things between them. The temple in
Thebes was far busier than this one, after all, and the chances of any of
Ares' worshippers seeing him with Joxer in this temple were slim.

He could feel the weight of Ares' gaze on him, palpable in the same way that
the shifts in the air around him had been. Finally he steeled himself
against the answer he knew was coming and looked up, squaring his jaw as he
finally met Ares' gaze. "I need to know if any of it meant anything.
You're a god and I'm just a mortal, but the things you said..."

By the time he trailed off Ares was already shaking his head, and Joxer's
heart dropped into the pit of his stomach as he waited to hear the words
he'd been dreading. They never came, though, and before he knew what was
happening Ares was moving forward, closing the distance between them and
tilting Joxer's chin up to meet the god's gaze.

Ares' smile lit up his eyes exactly the way Joxer remembered, his thumb
tracing a soft pattern along the other man's jaw as he spoke. "Don't you
know by now? It meant everything."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ares slowly stroked Joxer's jaw as he waited for the other man to react;
he'd been so sure that Joxer knew exactly how he felt about everything
they'd been to each other, that he understood at least on some level why
Ares had done what he did. It didn't seem possible that Joxer could doubt
how Ares felt about him, but judging from the look on the mortal's face it
was obvious Joxer had no idea. Ares watched as confusion and barely
contained fear slowly faded to anger, and a moment later Joxer stepped out
of his touch.

"Know? How could I know? All you've done is lie to me, Ares. How can I
believe anything you say?"

He knew Joxer was still angry at him, and the truth was he'd never expected
the other man to show up in his temple wanting to talk. Since Joxer left
Olympus he'd spent more time brooding alone than he wanted to admit, telling
himself he deserved for Joxer to forget who he was. He didn't deserve the
loyalty of someone like Joxer, yet when the mortal showed up in his temple
he hadn't really been surprised. It was exactly the kind of thing Joxer
would do, only Ares hadn't let himself hope for it.

And now Joxer was standing in front of him again, but he was looking at Ares
the same way he had when Ares first confessed the truth, and he knew he'd
handled everything all wrong. The problem was that he had no idea how to
set it right again, what to say to make Joxer believe that he'd meant
everything he'd ever said. "You do believe me. You wouldn't be here if you
didn't."

Ares had no idea if he was right until he said the words out loud, but as
soon as he did the anger drained out of Joxer's expression. "Why didn't you
just tell me?" he whispered, looking down as though he was afraid of the
answer.

"You were a child." Fresh guilt washed over Ares when he remembered how
young Joxer still was. He'd followed the other man's life closely enough to
know just how much Joxer didn't know about the world, and he wasn't sure if
he had any right to ask someone so innocent to take on Ares' destiny. "I
couldn't ask you…you couldn't know then what you wanted. I couldn't force a
decision on you."

"What decision?" Joxer asked, confusion marring his features as he listened
to Ares stumble over his own words. "All I ever wanted was you. You're a
god, didn't you know that?"

"I told you once that we don't make a habit of reading the thoughts of
mortals. I meant it," Ares said, a smile tugging at the corners of his
mouth as he watched Joxer frown at him. "My destiny comes with a tremendous
amount of responsibility, Joxer. I couldn't ask you to make that choice
when you were just sixteen years old."

"Your destiny? So you're saying you wanted me…"

"Yes," Ares interrupted, his smile growing in direct proportion to the color
in Joxer's cheeks. "I wanted you by my side. It would have meant asking
you to give up your life, Joxer, don't you see that? I would have been
asking you to give up your mortality, to leave behind everything that made
you human. I couldn't ask a child to make that kind of decision."

"You're wrong. I stopped being a child a long time ago, Ares. If you'd
asked me then my answer would have been yes."

"And now?" Ares asked, the words escaping his lips before he could talk
himself out of it. Part of him didn't want to know; he had a feeling he
wasn't going to like the answer. He had to ask, though, because if there
was any chance at all that Joxer would forgive him, Ares would spend the
rest of his life convincing him that they deserved another chance.

For a split second Ares allowed himself to believe that Joxer might actually
say that he still wanted that; that he'd tried to live without Ares and he
couldn't do it. Just for a moment Joxer looked as though that was exactly
what he wanted to say, but a moment later he shook his head and let out a
regretful sigh. "How can I say yes now? Fifteen years ago I had my whole
life, but now…"

"I can give you eternity," Ares said, taking a step forward before he
remembered himself and stopped again. It was a struggle not to reach out
and touch Joxer, to take him by force if necessary, but he knew that
whatever happened between them now had to be Joxer's choice. It was the
only way he had any chance at all of finally getting the one thing he'd ever
really wanted. "I can give you anything you want, Joxer. Anything at all."

"You can't give me back the past fifteen years."

He tried to tell himself that he deserved some of Joxer's contempt; if he'd
just been honest in the beginning things might have turned out a lot
differently, any maybe they never would have had this conversation at all.
It was still a struggle to keep his temper in check, though, partly because
he wasn't used to anyone questioning his judgment, and partly because he
didn't know what Joxer wanted from him. "Will I be paying for that for all
eternity?" he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice so low that he
didn't really expect Joxer to hear him.

"No," Joxer answered, his voice just as soft as Ares' as he took a step
forward. "I don't want to make you pay for anything, I just…I *knew* Timo.
I knew everything about him, what he felt like, how he sounded, what he
wanted from life. All I know about you is what your priests and Xena have
said."

As quickly as it had disappeared Ares' smile returned, and he didn't try to
stop himself from reaching out to touch Joxer this time. "Don't you
remember what you said about my statue in Thebes? You know me better than
most, Joxer. You don't just see me as War, you see the man as well as the
god. Everything I've ever said to you was the truth, it doesn't matter what
I looked like when I said it."

His thumb was moving against Joxer's cheekbone now, and he held his breath
as the other man leaned into his touch and let his eyes flutter closed.
Joxer's tongue darted out to wet his lips, and it took every ounce of
control Ares had ever possessed not to lean forward and claim the mouth that
as far as he was concerned had always belonged to him. It didn't matter who
else had tasted those lips since Joxer ran away from home, his heart had
always belonged to Ares and that was all that counted. He knew Joxer's
heart still belonged to him, but that didn't mean he was going to convince
Joxer to listen to it.

When Joxer's eyes opened again he looked like he wanted to argue, and Ares
wished he hadn't made that promise about not reading the other man's
thoughts. He wanted to know what Joxer was thinking, what was making him
hesitate when it was obvious that he wanted to forgive Ares. They both
wanted the same thing; Ares was almost sure of it, but something was
stopping Joxer from taking that last step. It had to be about more than
just being able to trust Ares' word, but whatever it was Joxer seemed to be
having a hard time saying it.

"Say it," Ares whispered, leaning close enough to breathe the word against
Joxer's ear. "Whatever it is, just tell me." As soon as Ares' mouth
brushed his cheek Joxer seemed to melt into him, his head against Ares'
broad chest and his eyes squeezed shut. It took Ares a second to realize
what was happening, but as soon as he did he wrapped strong arms around
Joxer and ran his hands soothingly up and down the other man's back.

"I know you're not just War." The words were mumbled against Ares' chest,
and he had to lean a little closer to hear exactly what Joxer was saying.
"But Olympus? You'd really want me to live there? With you? What would
your warlords say?"

Ares smiled into Joxer's hair, one hand leaving his back to grip the back of
his neck and tilt his face up gently. "I doubt any of them would be foolish
enough to question my chosen consort. It doesn't matter what they say,
Joxer. No one could change my mind, not even Zeus himself."

He knew it was the wrong thing to say when Joxer paled and looked down at
his chest, but he wasn’t pushing Ares away again so he decided to take at
least that much as a good sign. "Oh gods, I didn't even think about Zeus.
He'd never…I mean you're War, and I'm…"

"Gods may choose their own consorts. Without exceptions," Ares said,
smiling almost gently when Joxer stole another quick glance at him. "He
won't object if I choose to make my most loyal follower immortal."

"You're serious."

It wasn't really a question, but Ares found himself nodding anyway. "Of
course. I know I shouldn't have tried to protect you from the truth, and I
don't want to waste any more time. I want you by my side, Joxer."

Before Joxer could answer Ares leaned forward, tilting the smaller man's
head just enough to fit their mouths together. He wasn't positive that
Joxer was going to say yes, but if he was going to change his mind at the
last minute and leave Ares again he wanted this last kiss. He wanted to
feel Joxer's mouth moving against his one last time, to remember the way it
felt when Joxer's thin arms slid around his waist. His other hand left
Joxer's back to cup his cheek, holding the other man in place as he urged
Joxer's lips apart with his tongue.

Almost instantly Joxer opened his mouth, his tongue sliding against Ares' as
his fingers curled around the leather at the god's waist. Everything about
Joxer had always made Ares long for more, and he knew he'd never be able to
live with it if Joxer decided that he didn't want this after all. He'd
spend the rest of Joxer's life trying to change his mind, and he knew
himself well enough to know that he'd stop at nothing to make it happen.
The thought was sobering enough to make him pull away abruptly, frowning as
he watched Joxer gasp for breath.

"Is this what you want?" Ares asked, raising one eyebrow as he waited for
Joxer's answer.

"Yes," the other man answered, his voice a breathy whisper as he struggled
to catch his breath. "Only not…not here."

It took Ares a second to realize what Joxer meant, but as soon as it dawned
on him that they were still standing in front of his altar he grinned and
pulled Joxer close again. For a moment reality faded around them, and when
the world solidified again they were standing in his bedroom on Olympus.
"Better?"

Joxer let go of Ares long enough to glance around the room, swallowing
convulsively when his gaze fell on the bed. He nodded minutely when he
turned back to the other man, his cheeks flushing as he struggled to meet
Ares' gaze. "This is all so fast," he said, gesturing around them as he
spoke. "I'm not sure…I mean after everything that's happened…"

"Give me a chance to convince you," Ares said, running a strong hand through
Joxer's hair before he tugged the other man forward as gently as he could
manage. "Stay with me, Joxer. Just until you make up your mind."

The other man nodded wordlessly, and when Ares smiled and leaned forward
Joxer surged up to meet him. The kiss was harder this time, filled with
need and a desperation that Ares had never expected to feel. By the time
they made it to the bed their clothes were just a distant memory, and it was
all he could do not to cry out from the agonizing pleasure of Joxer's skin
sliding against his for the first time in fifteen years. He never thought
he'd feel this way again, but every time Joxer kissed him he was almost sure
he'd come apart from the intensity of his emotions.

He'd always known that gods felt things with an intensity that would kill
most humans, but he'd never really paid much attention to it until the first
time Joxer offered himself to Ares. That moment in the woods behind his
temple had been so much like this, familiar hands moving on his skin and
too-soft lips crushed against his. And even now that Joxer was a grown man
Ares still felt a little like he was defiling something pure, something he
had no right to. Joxer wanted him, though, and that was all he needed to
convince him that he was doing the right thing.

He was still sure that if he'd told Joxer the truth when he first left home
that things wouldn't have turned out this way; at sixteen Joxer's
perspective would have been different, and the thought of eternity with
someone hundreds of years old would have been a lot to deal with. It was
hard enough now that he was an adult, but Ares was going to convince him
that this was their destiny if it took him the rest of eternity. Seducing
Joxer back into his arms was only the first step; he knew it wouldn't be
easy, but now that he knew it was possible he wasn't going to give up.

There was no way he was going to give up the feeling of Joxer moving against
him, the hands in his hair and the fingers pressing into his arms as he
slid inside Joxer for the first time in fifteen years. Nothing since had
even come close to the way Joxer made him feel, and when Joxer cried his
name as he came Ares knew that nothing ever would.

He had no idea how long they lay tangled together in his sheets, bodies
slick with sweat as they drifted in and out of sleep. When he woke he
pushed himself up on one elbow, pushing a few strands of hair away from the
other man's face as he watched Joxer's eyelids flutter. He leaned forward
and pressed his lips to sweat-slick skin, his chest tightening when Joxer
sighed in his sleep. There were so many things he still wanted to say; that
he was sorry, that he'd never hurt Joxer or let anyone else hurt him ever
again. He had an endless supply of promises to make, but he had a feeling
Joxer didn't really care about promises.

As soon as the thought occurred to him Joxer's eyes opened, and Ares shifted
a little closer and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to the other man's
lips. "I love you," he whispered against Joxer's mouth, lingering for a
long moment before he forced himself to pull back far enough to meet the
other man's gaze. "I know it won't be easy for you to trust that, but I
want you here with me."

Slender fingers closed around his, and he glanced down at their clasped
hands before he looked up at Joxer again. He knew it was dangerous to hope
that Joxer could have made up his mind already, but when he looked into the
other man's eyes he couldn't help hoping for exactly that.

"I love you too, Ares. I always have."

Ares couldn’t have stopped the smile that lit up his features if he'd wanted
to. He knew there was still a lot to talk about, but as long as Joxer loved
him he was sure they could get through anything. "I'll wait as long as I
have to," he said, squeezing the hand that was firmly grasped in his. "I've
got nothing but time."

Joxer's features lit up in a shy smile, and he reached up with his free hand
to trace the outline of Ares' mouth. "I don't need time. I've already
tried to live without you. Even if I wanted to I couldn't do it. Not now."

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he finally got his voice under
control enough to answer, and even once he was sure he could speak without
squeaking he just shook his head and leaned forward to fuse their lips
together again. When they finally parted he settled back on the pillows,
pulling Joxer closer and wrapping his arm around the smaller man's
shoulders. There would be plenty of time for talking later; for now he just
wanted to close his eyes and somehow try to convince himself that this was
really happening, that Joxer was there with him and that he wasn't going
anywhere. He knew they'd have things to talk about and details to work out,
but it would wait. They had eternity, after all.

fin

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