Welcome to AresJoxerCupidStrife

TITLE: London version of Christine's Challenge (hopethis amuses you babe!)

AUTHOR: Tosca
EMAIL: toscas_kiss@yahoo.com
WEB: http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/toscaskiss

NOTES: Sorry, but except for Eastenders, very fewnative Londoners actually have that strong an accent.Only people from other parts of the country (and if Itried to write a Manchester accent you wouldn'tunderstand anyway - I mean, when they interviewedOasis on US TV they had to do subtitles - and no I'mnot kidding), tourists or immigrants really havestrong accents - so you get one Scots accents andthat's it from me.

WARNING: Totally and utterly shameless self insertionof me and a friend. BIG GRINApologies beforehand - I like the Scots. Honest!I leave this up to your imaginations as to just how Rrated this is. He he he.

Ares Olympious unwrapped his leather clad form fromaround his lover, gently breaking off their kiss. Warmbrown eyes blinked up at him. He leant forward, bussedJoxer gently on the mouth again and slipped out thedoor with a husky

"See you later lover."

"Bye Reese."

Came the soft reply.

Ares smiled at his employees as he passed through thelarge open-plan office. It was a beautiful Londonmorning, sunlight pouring through the glass curtainsheeting of the roof and walls. The sales were up. Thecompetition were down. He was in love with a wonderfulman who loved him back. All was right in his world.

As always, the eyes of almost every female, and not afew of the males, followed the founder of OlympiousWargames, Inc as he stalked away through the atrium.

"Close your mouth," Tosca commented to her workmate,"Drooling is not scheduled in your medical records forat least another 40 years."

"Oh man," groaned the webmistress, "One night with himand you could freely put me on a ventilator for therest of my natural life."

"Yeah, well, as long as our erstwhile headprogrammer's still breathing there ain't a snowball'schance in Hades of that happening."

Both women fell silent, thinking about the twist ofFate that led one of the most drop dead gorgeous,better-than-chocolate, mind blowingly sensual hunks inthe world to fall head over heels in love with one ofthe most shy and clumsily awkward (if admittedlybrilliant and sweet) men they knew.

"All the good ones are taken."

"Or gay."

"Or both."

"There is no justice."

"The Gods hate us."

"Yeah."

The Litany of Single Women Everywhere completed, theycontinued with the conversation.

"Though they are soooo sweet together."

"I'll say. Woof! Mr Macho & Leather...

"...and Mr Cuddles & Silk"

"Oh, I can just imag...er, I mean..."

"Ooo yea...er, I mean..."

Silence for a second.

"He may be a klutz, but he's as sweet as allout. Andhe does have the most gorgeous chocolate eyes."

"Are you having problems with that diet? I'm tellingyou those things really don..."

"ARGGHHH! That little SHITE!" came an angst riddenscream from a corner cubicle.

Sharon and Tosca looked at each other and giggled atthe outrage in Auto's voice.

"Wonder what the master of mayhem's done now?"

The two women got up and wandered nonchalantly towardsthe drinks machine, where they had a bird's eye viewof that section of the menagerie. They could see'Auto' McLean snarling in rage at his monitor andpounding his keyboard.

No-one knew what the 'A' in his name really stood for,and he and anyone else who knew wasn't saying. 'Auto'used to be his sig back when he was a hacker, and hewasn't saying what that actually stood for either.There was an office pool running - Sharon had her onepound down as Autonobetta. Tosca had hers down asAutoerotica - mainly as she figured no-one was evergoing to win the bet so she might as well be amusingwithout the depravity of punning (and OK, so she was acloset X-filomaniac as well).

There was the sound of management doors opening andCupid Olympious (a forename that really reallywarranted matricide, even if the guy was a seriouscontender for the title 'God of Love') and JoxerJanssen headed towards the continued loud mutteringsand cursing emitted in an increasingly broad Scotsaccent.

"Auto, what's the matter?" Cupid enquired.

"Yer bludy buiyfren' tha's what's tha matta! Notcontent wi' hackin' inta our secure network, just looka' what tha' little sods gone an' done!" He wavedindignantly at the monitor.

Sharon and Tosca were intrigued to see a look ofshock, then amusement, sweep over both men's facesbefore Cupid and Joxer controlled their expressions.

"I'm sure he didn't mean that to go out on theintranet," Joxer tried to pacify the irate networkadministrator.

The women looked at each other, and abandoningnonchalance skidded back to their desks as fast asthey could, clicking onto the intranet. And there, intime to a rock version of "Scotland the Brave", inall their glory against a tartan background, werelittle dancing Autos. Little dancing Autos in kilts.Little dancing Autos in kilts doing the HighlandFling. Bobbing up and down. And down and up. And upand down.

The floor was suddenly an ocean of giggles andlaughter as one employee after another logged onto theintranet.

Thirty seconds later, the network went down.

Tosca wiped the tears from her eyes and beamed at thedark haired youth heading past them.

"You evil, evil boy. Don't you know they burn peopleat the stake for things like that in Scotland." shetold the company's security tester par excellence.

"Ya think?" the notion seemed to appeal to him,judging from the manic grin that slid onto his face.

"Nah, but I'm sure Auto wishes they did."

"STRIFE!" Auto had spotted the Person Most Likely anddashed over to him, red in the face.

Startled innocence blossomed on Strife's face.

"Yeah Auto? What's up?"

"What's up? WHAT'S UP?" Auto was momentarilydistracted by his technical author and webmistressdissolving into hysterical laughter at their desks. Hesnarled at them in disgust and turned back to theyouth twiddling a lock of hair around his finger andgazing at him with an innocent kittenish stare.

"What's up," he snapped, invading Strife's space "Yelittl' prat, is that yuir gonna get th'..."

"What seems to be the problem here?" The cubiclecorridor was suddenly filled with big leather-cladbadass boss. A babble of voices answered.

"Son. You tell me. And no glossing over Strife'spart." He ordered sternly.

Cupid glanced apologetically at his cousin and startedtalking.

"How does he always turn up like that?" Tosca mutteredquietly to Sharon "It's very disconcerting."

"Spy cameras?"

"Here? Man, watching Championship Snooker would bemore interesting."

"Oh yeah?" Sharon's voice lowered even further"Neville accidentally left the tickets to that Wheatusconcert he went to last month here at work, and whenhe popped in to pick them up, he said he heard somereeeeally interesting noises coming from Cupid'soffice."

"Nooo." Tosca's voice held not-very-firm disbelief.

She eyed Cupid and Strife with no small amount ofinterest. The pair were even more open about theirrelationship than Ares and Joxer, but making out onthe manager's desk was just something that happened on"Red Shoe Diaries". At least that's what she'd alwaysthought.

"You're kidding!?" Her tone encouraged Sharon todisagree.

"Scouts Honour."

"You were never a Scout."

"Ah, but I always wanted one."

"Sick Cow."

"Yeah, well, I've been eating British catfood again."

"...left a rather er," Cupid's face twisted as hefished for the appropriate word that would neitherexonerate nor condemn his boyfriend "er,discourteous... animated graphic of Auto playing onthe intranet main page, though I think it's fair toadd th.."

"Enough!" Ares thundered. "Stravos Olympious,apologise."

Strife knew he was in deep kimchee when his unclecalled him by his hated full name. Even Cupid winced,then smiled encouragingly at him.

"I'm sorry Auto. I won't do it again. You know I wasonly trying to help you..."

Ares raised an eyebrow. Auto hrmmphed disbelievingly.

"Aw, Unc, you know you told me to see if I could findany bugs in the security system."

"Yes. But did I tell you to have thatmuch...fun...doing it?"

Strife looked down, remorse painted so thick on hisface, it cracked.

"Now, I'm sure you'll be happy spending the weekendwriting a report on how you got in.."

"Aw Unc..." the regret was patently sincere now.

Ares continued remorselessly "...and spending the nextweek implementing countermeasures."

"Yes Unc." came the glum reply. The tension amongstthe group lowered several notches.

"Reese, why don't you and Auto and I go get a coffeeat Starbucks?" The peacemaker as always, Joxer triedto inject a little calming oil into the still choppywaters.

Ares smiled at him.

"Sure. Coming Auto?" he asked his still pissed offnetwork administrator and friend.

He knew the programmers all thought that each andevery Starbucks was a divinely Sacred Temple ofCaffeine (spoilt only by the absence of such purelyAmerican treasures as Jolt and Mountain Dew), butpersonally he couldn't stand their coffee. Not that hewould ever tell his Joxer that.

"Aye." Auto darted back to his cubicle, grabbed hiscoat and the three men left, Auto giving his nemesis aparting glare that promised a less than pleasant weekahead, the other two smiling and talking in quietvoices. From the looks of Ares' quirking mouth, Joxerwas detailing just what a 'discourteous' animatedgraphic looked like.

"All next week!" Strife wailed as soon as the officefront door shut behind them "It's my Uni break! And Iwas gonna drag you down to Brighton to go clubbingthis weekend!"

"Well look on the bright side, babe." Cupid slid anarm around him "At least he didn't send you to yourmother's."

Strife flinched at the thought. His mother was head ofher own advertising company, neither she or Areshaving gone into their much despised father's bankingbusiness. She was commonly known in The City as theBlack Widow. And as the title implied, was not themost comfortable of women - or mothers.

"Or even worse," Cupid leaned over to whisper in hisear with a wicked smile, "Uncle Herc's."

Strife shuddered at that possibility. Despite beingillegitimate, or maybe even because of that, hisgrandfather had managed to 'acquire' an MP's seat forhis favourite offspring. The armor of moral rectitudeHercules had always worn had become even heavier andlouder since 'the People had Chosen Him to be TheirDuly Elected Representative'. That pompous bore wouldprobably have set aside an hour each day just to givehim the benefit of his sagacity and virtue. Strifefelt queasy at the thought. Cupid relented on teasinghis lover.

"On the other hand babe," he chucked the younger manunder the chin, "You've definitely given the ladiessomething to talk about."

"Brightened my day." declared Tosca.

"But you've absolutely _ruined_ that fine patrioticsong for me." bemoaned Sharon with a smirk.

Strife and Cupid laughed.

"C'mon Cupey, lets go grab an early lunch."

"OK. See ya later - Tosca, Sharon."

"Ciao girls. So, you reckon the sun's over the yardarmyet? I figure it is somewh..."

Tosca appreciatively watched Strife's butt walk awayfrom them. Others might prefer the more blatantlyhandsome Cupid, but personally she preferred a moresubtle appeal. And boy, did he have a deliciouslywicked sense of humour. She turned and found Sharongrinning at her.

"Can we say _taken_?"

"No harm in looking!" Tosca protested.

"And can we say _cradlesnatching_?"

"Hey, hey, he's only ten years younger!"

Sharon sniggered.

"But they are soooo cute together."

"Yeah, all golden and bronze..."

"And pale and gothic..."

Both women sighed.

"All the good ones are taken."

"Or gay."

"Or both."

"There is no justice."

"The Gods hate us."

"Yeah."