Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Title: Super WHO?!
Author: Tequila Worm
Fandom: X:WP/Smallville/MarySue x-over
Pairing: A/J, C/S, T/M, C/P, C/C/L (they WILL get explained)
Disclaimer: I dun't own dem. Well, ok, I own TW, 'cause she's me. Carrie and Christine are real peoples too, but I dun't own them. The Olympian and Asphodelian boys and Clark and Lex belong to their respective creators and I promise to return them when I'm done.
Distribution: AJCS, Bottom of the Bottle, MEWA, TW, Christine's site, and anyone else who asks very nicely.
Feedback: Please...I dun wanna get eaten by my feedback dragon, and he WILL eat me if I dun feed him!! Help me out with that, please!
Summary: Ares, Joxer, Cupid, Strife, Clark Kent, and Lex Luthor, and a whole lot of AJCS listsibs.
Dedication: To Christine, for being the bestest person in the whole wide world...she's an angel! *hugs tight* To prot0 for bein' my keeper, and for bein' Morpheous, because he is, even if he doesn't know it.
Author's Notes: Christine did a wonderful thing for me, and she asked me to write her this fic in return. So I am, because I couldn't NOT write it after she was such an angel. I pulled out the x-over, 'cause she asked, but don't expect it to be a common occurance. This fluff to the core, baby, so lean back an enjoy it.
WARNING: FLUFFINESS ABOUNDS!!!! FLUFF, FLUFF, AND MORE FLUFF!!! Also....Thar be MarySue here!!! ...oh, and this is unbeta'd, because Christine was bugging me to post it....
Christine and TW sat at the bar, laughing hysterically, if not a bit drunkenly. Somehow, Christine had managed to win the Texas lottery, and was now a multimillionair. As she had promised, she immediately rented out a hotel for the weekend, and the first ever AJCSCon was in full swing.
TW managed to stop laughing long enough to ask for another round for them, not completely sure anymore what they were drinking. She had told Christine it was near impossible to get her, TW, drunk, and Christine had taken it as a challange, telling the bartender not to stop until TW was drunk. Both women were now past drunk and approaching obliterated, but they showed no signs of stopping.
Christine pointed to where Scribe, Carrie, Corona, and a few others were cheering on the stippers that had been hired, purely because they LOOKED like the Olympian boys they were all so fond of. Scribe was currently sticking a $10 in the Cupid-stripper's g-string, and looking for all the world like she had died and gone to heaven. Both writers at the bar cracked up again, downing the last of their drinks and going over to join in the fun.
Scribe was now petting the feathery wings, looking like she was about to faint from the pleasure. TW hijacked the Strife-stripper and was currently making him "beg" for the bills she held in her hands. Christine joined Carrie and the others, who, everytime "Ares" and "Joxer" got close to each other, started chanting, "Kiss him! Kiss him!" gleefully.
The strippers looked at each other, startled. They'd been warned that this group would be a bit...odd, but they hadn't expected this.
Just then, a blinding flash lit up the room, making everyone sheild their eyes. When hands and arms, and, in Scribe's case, wings, since she had burried her face in "Cupid's", were lowered, looks of annoyance were transformed into looks of astonishment and awe. Standing in the middle of the large ballroom were none other than Ares, Joxer, Cupid and Strife.
TW squeaked and choked a moment, beofre sliding over to Christine. "Did you hire some special effects that you didn't tell me about?"
Christine numbly shook her head, all traces of drunkenness gone. "No...either someone else did, or they're the real thing."
For their part, the rest of the listsibs were remarkably calm, not quite hitting panic pitch once they figured out that something unexpected had happened. Every pair of eyes in the room were locked on the imposing figure in the middle of the room.
Ares opened his mouth, the first to speak. Unfortunately, he didn't sound all that thrilled.
"That guy is supposed to be me?" he asked, incredulous, staring at the Ares-stripper.
Joxer laid a calming hand on his mate's arm. "Relax, Ar, it's supposed to be a compliment."
Strife snickered until he cought sight of his own look-alike stripper, who had slid behind the small group of authors nearby. He got a very strange look on his face, and slid next to Cupid. "I don't really look like that, do I?" he asked, staring that the spikey-haired man.
Cupid slung an arm across his husbands shoulders. "No more than I look like that geek with the fake wings.*
Christine was the first of the AJCSers to speak out loud. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" she asked, trying to sound braver than she felt. At 5'2, all of the men towered over her, but she tried not to let that bother her. After all, she WAS ex-navy.
Ares stared at her. Joxer coughed, obviously covering a laugh. He stepped forward, took Christine's hand, and kissed it. "We're the four you lovely group of men and women so constantly worship with your wonderful writtings of course."
He looked over at TW, who was staring with her mouth slightly open. "You, my dear, have nothing to worry about. Cupid, Strife and I love your fics, and will keep Ares from even mentioning how many times you've made him pregnant."
TW nodded mutely, unable to say a word. Carrie piped up right about then, probably too drunk to weigh her words carefully.
"So you guys obviously exist. If that's the case, the the Asphodelian boys exist. When do I get to see Phobetor?"
Elsewhere in Metropolis....(hell, in the same hotel....)
"Do you know who I am, you ass?" Lex Luthor hissed, glaring at the man standing in front of him, the one who was using the counter he was standing behind as a sheild.
"Y-yes, sir," he squeaked, swallowing convulsivly. "But M-miss Porter rented out all th-the suites, sir. W-we have nothing but n-normal rooms left."
Lex, upon hearing the name Miss Porter, stopped looking menacing and started looking thoughtful. The young man standing next to him started to look vaguly uncomfotable with the look on his mate's face.
"Lex?" the tall, curly haired man poked the slightly shorter, bald one in the shoulder gently. "Lex, are you ok?"
Lex shook himself, rubbing his shoulder where Clark had poked. "Don't do that, Clark. That hurts. And yes, I'm ok. Do you know who Miss Porter is?"
Clark shook his head. He didn't, but he was sure that Lex was going to tell him.
"She's the woman that won the Texas state lottery a few months back. The one that was worth over $350 million?" Lex looked vaguely disgruntled that someone had come by such a large amount of money is such an easy manner.
A look of dawning comprehension dawned over the handsome face. "Christine Porter?" he asked, looking at the ceiling.
"Yes, sir. Miss Christine Porter. Why do you ask?" said the man behind the counter, finally finding his voice.
"Lex, that's the woman that constantly writes me as a bottom. She writes that wonderful slash fanfic stuff."
Lex stared at his mate. "Fanfic? Slash? Clark, what are you talking about?"
Clark turned a smirk on his lover. "That porn I give you to read that has us as the main characters."
Lex all but choked. Some of that stuff was HOT.
"And she's upstairs right now? I'm assuming in the Grand Ballroom?" he asked the now terrified man.
"Y-yes. Are...are you going to go up there, sir?" he asked timidly.
"I am, indeed. I own this hotel after all. I WILL be speaking to the manager about renting out ALL the suites.
The man, now all but cowering, nodded. "Miss Porter is a shorter woman with very long brown hair, sir. She wears pink, wire rimmed glasses."
Lex was already striding towards the elevators, so Clark thanked the man and joined his lover and mate in the elevator. They rode up to the top floor in silence, Clark slightly concered as to what is mate was going to do.
He found he didn't have to worry, since Lex was just as astonished by the sight that met his eyes as Clark was.
There were men and women everywhere, loud laughter and talking ringing through the air. Six men seemed to be the center of attention over in the general direction of the stage, and Clark decided that he didn't want to know why when he saw what looked like a dark leather shirt go flying. Over by the bar, there was another cluster of people. At the center of this one were two women with hair that reached the smalls of their back, one with brown, one with...pink. Not a bright, neon pink, nor a redish pink. It was a pale pink, quite beautiful, actually.
Lex stalked over to the bar, pushing his way through the throng of people, including two fairly tall men, one absolutly gorgeous, the other goofily hansom. "Are you Miss Christine Porter?" he demanded, ignoring the increasingly uneasy feeling he was getting from the dark man behind him.
Christine looked up at Lex and gulped. She knew who this was, and she wasn't exactly thrilled about having him in her face.
Until he tipped her backwards and kissed her soundly.
Christine was so stunned when Lex kissed her that, for a second, all she could was sit there. Well, technically, LAY there, since Lex had her tipped backwards, as was holding her tightly in his arms. However, when is tongue slid into her mouth, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and began to return his kiss.
HB and Clark, as well as everyone else around, were staring in shock. HB eventually cleared her throat. “Um, Clark?”
“Yeah, HB?” he said, eyes locked on his lover and favorite fanfic author.
“Does he swing both ways?” she asked, flipping a lock of pink hair over her shoulder. Then she paused a moment. “Hey, how…how did you know my name?”
“We both do, actually. Have since high school. And I know your name because I love the fanfic you write about me. Speaking of which-“ and Clark grabbed HB and gave her the same treatment Lex was giving Christine.
Ares and Joxer, who were the pair Lex had brushed aside, looked at each other in bewilderment. What in Tartarus was WITH these people?
Eventually, both women were let up for air, Christine looking faintly bemused, HB clinging to Clark, panting.
“Lex, not that I mind or anything, but what the hell was that for?” Christine demanded of the billionaire in front of her.
“That was to thank you for that delightful dungeon fic you wrote for us. Simply exquisite, and VERY hot,” he said…no, *purred*.
Before anyone else could speak up, Ares clapped a hand on Lex’s shoulder. To judge by the look on his face, Ares hadn’t been gentle when he did so, either.
“Can I ask why you felt it necessary to push me out of the way, oh so casually? It really wasn’t a good idea.”
Lex’s face was all but a sneer. “Like I care? I’m Lex Luthor. I don’t have to explain myself.”
Christine tugged gently on Les’s sleeve. “Not a good one to piss off, Lex.”
Joxer stepped between the men before a pissing contest could begin. “Both of you, knock it off! I think we need to sit somewhere and talk. Cupid? Strife?”
Both gods were thoroughly enjoying the attention they were getting, and had to be called a couple of times before they responded, and even then, they didn’t come alone. Strife had one woman on his back, whom he was basically giving a piggy back ride to, with another woman following close behind, laughing at little comments being made.
Cupid, on the other hand, had someone attached to his front, her hands buried in his pristine white feathers, another woman following that pair.
Christine started laughing when she saw who the two limpets were. “Scribe, TW, you guys are impossible! Denise, Carrie, you couldn’t have kept them off?”
Denise and Carrie both started laughing. Carrie, the first to recover sufficiently to talk responded. “You’re kidding right? Scribe and TW? I’d have more lick telling Zeus to stop screwing everything that moved.”
Everyone laughed at that, but neither fanfic author let go of her god. And neither of the deities looked like they minded.
Joxer looked around the small…well, ok medium…nope, it was downright large, group of gods and mortals…and aliens. “Christine, you have a suite, the penthouse, correct?”
Christine nodded, immediately thinking of the layout of the room. Joxer plucked the knowledge from her mind, and linked hands with Clark who had HB melded against his side.
*Here’s where we’re going. Ares, you take Lex and Christine, no arguments. Cupid, Strife, take your leeches and Carrie and Denise* and he flashed away in a burst of silver sparkles, taking Clark and HB with him.
Ares wrapped arm around Christine, who looked like she’s died and gone to heaven, and flashed her and Lex, who’d found himself attached to Christine’s hand, away in a flash of black.
Cupid and Strife, as per orders, grabbed Carrie and Denise. “Hold on, ladies,” said Cupid, “we’re goin’ for a ride! And a blue and a white flash signaled their exit.
Everyone materialized in the suite, trio after trio, until the sitting room looked a bit on the full side. Strife still had TW clinging to his back, though now her eyes were crossed, Cupid was now holding up Scribe, and Denise and Carrie were sort of propping each other up.
Joxer arrived with no problems, and his mortals…or rather, his mortal and his alien, were looking none the worse for their travels, beyond the slightly pale complexions. Ares on the other hand…
As soon as Christine was in solid form, she looked at Ares, opened her mouth…and hurled all over him. Joxer was immediately at her side, leaving HB and Clark to lean against each other, which neither seemed to mind in the slightest. Ares just stood there, holding his hands out from his sides, looking vaguely disgusted.
“What’d you go and do that for?” he demanded of the fanfic writer, who was a pale shade of green.
“What do you mean, why did she do that? She’s mortal, Ar. She hasn’t transported before, so she didn’t know what to expect. I’d imagine that she’s also had a fair bit to drink, haven’t you?” Joxer directed this last question to Christine, who was currently being held in his arms.
She nodded, and looked very grateful when Lex, who appeared to have no adverse effects, handed her a glass of water. As she sipped it, everyone made themselves comfortable on the various pieces of furniture.
“So why are we here, Jox? What’s up?” asked TW, who was now seated in Denise’s lap. Scribe was settled in Cupid’s, having refused to let go, and Carrie was helping her straighten the feathers in Cupid’s wings.
“Well, judging by the looks of astonishment we received when we flashed into the room, I’m guessing that none of you really thought that we existed. Am I right?”
All of the authors looked faintly embarrassed, though it was Carrie that finally spoke. “No, honestly, we didn’t. We write about you, or the yous that we see on Xena and Hercules, but we never had a clue that you were actually real.”
Strife looked revolted. “On Hercules?? Carrie, babe, I wouldn’t sit anywhere NEAR him, let alone be ON him!!”
Carrie started giggling. “No, not on the person!! On the television show, Hercules: The Legendary Journeys.”
It was Ares turn to look appalled. “My brother,” and he spat out the word as if it had left a nasty taste in his mouth,” has his own TELEVISION SHOW?!” The last two words were said so loud that Christine and Lex, who were snuggled together, covered their ears.
“Ar, calm down. We knew that.” Seeing his mate’s shocked look, Joxer amended his statement. “OK, I knew that. I spend a lot of time with Strife in the Halls of Time, and came across a reference to the show. I looked it up, and did not like what I saw.”
This time, Ares looked amused. “Let me guess, they made me into a bad guy, and Herc into this really goody-goody kind of guy.”
Joxer nodded. “And Iolaus,” Joxer shook his head in amusement, “is straight as an arrow.”
All of the gods burst out laughing at that revelation. TW looks disgruntled when Strife moved while she was closing one of the safety pins she had been playing with.
“Careful!! I almost stabbed you, Strife!” She HAD stabbed herself, and was currently sucking on her finger to ease the slight pain of the pinprick.
“Sorry, TW.” Strife sat upright once more, trying valiantly to stay still while TW went back to her living alphabet board. She had already managed to spell out “Property of AJ” and was currently working on the C.
Christine nearly choked when she saw what her friend was doing. “TW!! You can’t claim him like that!! He’s Cupid’s, not ours!”
TW did not say a word, just gestured for Strife to turn. On the back of the black leather shirt, “Cupid’s Boy toy…do not touch!” was spelled out in more safety pins.
“No worries, Chris. I’m not going to risk the wrath of Love. He’d probably screw things up between me and J in retaliation.”
Christine breathed a sigh of relief as Cupid denied any such thing. “You and J are a great power source for me, TW. I’d never screw up a matched set of soul mates. Besides, Strife would have my head. You two are also great mischief makers, and give him some great rushes, too.”
TW looked pleased. “Really? Nice to know that he IS the one I’m supposed to be with, and it’s not just my imagination that we fit so well together.”
Denise started giggling. TW turned and glared at her…and then burst into giggles herself.
Ares watched the two on the couch, wondering what the joke was. Then decided, with the mind of those two, that he really did not want to know.
“So we didn’t know you existed. Why did you bring us here?” asked Scribe, now settled against Cupid’s chest, trying to ignore the two giggling girls next to her on the couch.
“Because I didn’t really think that you all wanted an audience…including those strippers. Who are they, anyway? They do look an awful lot like us.”
It was Christine’s turn to flush bright red. “Um…heh. That was kind of the point. Those four are the actors that played you in the television shows. Kevin Smith as Ares, Ted Raimi as Joxer, Karl Urban as Cupid, and Joel Troebek as Strife…” Christine trailed of as she looked at Joxer.
Joxer just grinned at her. “Very creative, Christine, but how on earth did you get them here in costume and how did you get them to strip for you?”
Now Christine looked smug. “It’s amazing what being a multimillionaire can do for you”
For the last hour and a half the mortals, gods, and alien had been talking in Christine’s suite, getting to know each other better. A few shifts and additions had been made to the gathering, as well as a few conspicuous absences.
Cupid and Strife were lounging together on a couch, Scribe stretched across their laps, patiently allowing them to feed her grapes, slapping Strife’s hand when it wandered too low on her torso. Denise was currently sitting behind strife, on the back of the couch, twisting Strife’s spikes into sharper points, telling him what color each one should be. The effect was a sort of multi colored spike-y rainbow on his head, set against a soft jet-black background.
Christine was ensconced in Lex’s arms, talking to HB who was similarly being held by Clark. The British woman, however, was eyeing Ares and Joxer, who were sitting, Joxer in Ares’ lap, trying to inhale each other, lips first.
Across the room, on another couch, Carrie was being…well, cuddled wasn’t the word, and neither was fondled. Somewhere in between, perhaps, if there was such a place. Her…cuddle-fondler was Phobetor, and she looked both confused and blissful. TW, who was also being cuddled, was watching her friend, trying to decide why the other woman looked trouble. Then the light bulb flashed.
“You can’t figure out why he’s here, can you? You think of him as an extension of yourself, and it’s really screwing with your brain to be cuddled by him, isn’t it?” guessed TW.
Carrie nodded, inhaling sharply as the dream god grazed his fangs over her neck. “I never expected him to be real. At least not like this.”
TW laughed, then gasped herself as she was…well, groped. “This is a fanfic, Carrie. A Mary Sue and total nonsense fic on top of it. You really think that it’s going to make sense? I suggest you just sit back an enjoy it.” TW suited actions to words, leaning back against her cuddler’s chest, laying her head back on his shoulder.
J grinned and wrapped his arms tighter around his girlfriend. He’d been slightly disoriented when Cupid had zapped him in, but had quickly adjusted to the room full of deities, snagging TW and pulling her for a snuggle. They didn’t get to see each other nearly enough, and he wasn’t about to quibble about time spent with her.
Morpheous, who was at TW’s feet, grinned. He was well aware that he was TW’s own version of herself, and had enjoyed startling the fanfic author. He continued his slow massage of said feet, enjoying being lazy.
Corona has also been transported into the room, at the request of Hades, who had wanted to talk to her about how Pep was going to be brought to him in her continuation of the Childhood Series. The pair was now deep in conversation at one of the tables, each nibbling pieces of pomegranate.
Suddenly, there was a shriek from the direction of the bathroom, as Scorpio came flying into the main room. She ran over to Hades, and hid behind him, babbling about something that no one could quite understand.
Corona and Hades worked to calm her down, trying to make sense of her babbling, while the rest of the room looked on in bewilderment…until Scribe also let out a shriek, scrambling to her feet. She hid behind Cupid, burying herself in his wings, one shaking hand pointing in the direction of the bathroom.
Every head turned, and there was a collective gasp as two zombies came ambling out of the other room, looking rather worse for the wear. TW buried herself deeper in J’s arms, as did Christine and HB, Lex and Clark looking themselves like they were going to be sick. Denise slid over next to Scribe, tugging Strife with her, so that she was against the feather expanse of Cupid’s wings, but still behind her favorite god.
Hades stood and walked over to the zombies, looking at them grimly. “What are you doing here?” he asked coldly, coming to a halt before the rotting pair.
The male stepped forward slightly, and bowed, a small bit of flesh dropping off to land at his feet. “We followed, Lord Hades. We wished to see the mortal realm” ((Of course, it sounded much more garbled, due to the fact that decaying lips are not the best to speak with, but the words have been translated for ease or reading-Author))
Hades sighed and shook his head. “You should not have followed. Now you have to be punished. I sentence you to cleaning up after Cerberus when he has an…accident… in Persephone’s gardens. Now, I’m sending you back to the Underworld. Next time, ask.” And with that, the pair was flashed away.
The whole room let out a huge breath. They’d all been trying not to breathe, attempting to avoid the stench of putrid flesh that had followed the zombies. Hades sighed and turned back to Corona and Scorpio, who had calmed down, though she still looked shaken.
Ares shook his head. “What’s next?” he asked no one in particular.
A bright flash of light and a clap of thunder sounded as the door to the suite burst open.
“Funny you should ask that, pet. I do believe that we are.”
TW bounced up out of her comfy place, snuggled with J, and ran for the doorway. Everyone else was looking at each other in bewilderment as she started squealing.
“LADY!! It’s the Angels!! Oh, girls, you came!! You’re here!! Oh, I’m so excited. Did you bring the toys with you? And my clothes? And my crop?” TW was all over a very pretty young woman dressed in black leather.
Lady smirked and snapped her fingers, while her…tail?!…wrapped around TW’s waist. A very handsome man stepped forward and handed TW a bag, kissing the hand that reached out to take it.
Christine shook her head. “I always knew that girl wasn’t normal. This just proves it.”
Joxer laughed. "You wouldn't really want her to be normal, would you? It would take all the fun out of your conversations and her fics, and just generally make life boring. Hell, look at Peanut Butter and Joxer. Who else would be willing to write about a bad time in their life because people want to read about it? She's an odd one, but everyone loves her for it."
Christine nodded, escaping from Lex’s arms. "That she is. So, why are you here?"
Joxer grinned. "We’re here to start an orgy, of course!"
HB stared. "An ORGY?!" She also left Clark's embrace and went to stand by her friend. "Joxer, did you just say an orgy?"
The god of peace grinned. "Yup. We brought Cupid for the lust, Strife for the mischief, and just some general horniness that needs to be taken care of."
Both authors stared at Joxer. Joxer grinned back. And then all three burst into laughter.
Christine was the first to recover. "Ya know, Jox, for a moment, you had me. I thought you really WERE here for an orgy."
Joxer feigned innocence. "But we are!"
Ares rolled his eyes. "This is all well and good, but no, that’s not why we’re here. We came here to get your help, actually, Christine. We knew that you were having a convention of fanfiction authors, and we figured what better place than to get ourselves what we needed than to get it written for us."
Christine looked confused. "What is it that you need Ares? I mean, what can WE do for you?"
The deity looked around the room. "You can write us up another Chaos Stone."
Every writer and deity in the room, with the exception of Joxer, Cupid and Strife, stared at Ares. Shock and horror were apparent on almost every face. With the exception of…
“Oy! What’s a Chaos Stone?” …Spike.
Giles, or more accurately Ripper, sighed. “An instrument of great
power, and if used incorrectly, a tool of great tragedy.”
Spike grinned. “Cool!”
Christine groaned. “Of course YOU’D think that was cool.”
Spike pretended to be offended. “What’s that supposed to mean, pet?”
Christine just shook her head and turned back to Ares. “Why do you need us to write you a Chaos Stone? What do you need it for?”
Now Ares looked a might uncomfortable.
Joxer grinned at his mate’s discomfort. It’s the only way to fix his problem.”
HB blinked. “Problem?”
Strife dissolved into hysterical laughter. TW watched him, once again comfortably ensconced in J’s arms.
“If Strife’s laughing hysterically, it must be something good. So,
Ares, what is it?” she asked, looking at the God of War.
Cupid grinned, but before he could say anything, Ares spoke up.
“Could we just leave it as the women in the family laid a curse on
me,” he mumbled.
Joxer grinned again. “You deserved it, Ares. Calling them all
overbearing harpies was really not in your best interest.”
Corona stared at Ares in horror. "You mean that you didn’t learn NOT to insult them, or at least your mother, when ya'll were stranded with
Lisa’s kids??” ((Check out Hera’s Lesson, by Lisa. Absolutely hilarious))
Ares shifted uncomfortably. “Um…yeah. But they were all harping
about the number of kids Joxer and I have had. They think I keep him preggers too often. Something about needing a few decades between kids.”
Joxer snorted. “It WOULD be nice not to be perpetually pregnant,
Ares. I don’t think I’ve had a good look at my feet in centuries.”
Christine looked startled. “You mean…all those new gods that we write for you guys really DO get born??”
Cupid nodded. “Not necessarily the way that you write it, or in the
order that you write them for us, but we DO have them.” He grinned at TW. “When you wrote all of those kids into the end of Peace, Love, and Bulletproof Marshmallows, Hera just about cried. For the next few years, she didn’t have a moment to herself, what with all the births.”
TW looked terrified. “She…she’s not MAD at me, is she?”
Strife patted her leg, grinning at J who growled slightly. “No, she
had a ball. She was just tired for a while, that’s all.”
TW let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank the goddess!”
Meanwhile, Mac was watching Joxer carefully. The fanfic author had shown up about an hour after the gods, EC along with her. She’d been watching Joxer’s stomach carefully ever since she’d seen him eat a green olive dipped in peanut butter. She watched as he turned sideways…
“You’re pregnant again!” she shouted in triumph, startling everyone in
the room. Joxer froze, and turned towards Mac, a beautiful shade of
scarlet creeping over his face.
“Yeah, I am. That’s kinda what triggered the ladies to lay the curse…Ares announcing that I’m pregnant.”
HB just shook her head. “So, ok, you need us to write this chaos
stone up for you. Why do you need it? What’s your task?”
Cupid grinned. “We’re supposed to get rid of panty-hose and stiletto heels. For some reason, all the women in the pantheon agreed on this one.”
Every woman in the room let out a cheer, startling every man.
Xander looked confused. “Why would you want to get rid of those? You all look so hot in them, especially when you’re dancing.”
Scribe smacked the back of his head. “You know better than that.”
Xander stuck out his tongue and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, but it’s true,” and got smacked again.
Lady shook her head, grinning at Scribe as she comforted her now
“wounded” hornpuppy. “So, Ares…we’re all curious. What’s this little curse that they laid on you?”
Ares turned beet red as Strife dissolved into giggles, again. “Imimmnt.”
“Imimmnt??” Lady repeated.
Christine smirked. “Ares, if you mumble we won’t be able to
understand you. Speak up.”
Ares looked positively murderous. “I’m IMPOTENT!! OK?! I can’t get it up no matter WHAT I do!! Those bitches made me IMPOTENT!!”
Author's Note: I'm so sorry that this last bit took so long for me to
get out to you all. It's no one's fault but my own...anyway, here's
the final AJCS/JE version. The final "everyone else version" will be
out in a couple of days. Now...I have an idea for a sequal...but I am
not promising anything...I'm going to think about it and stew over it.
ANYWAY. Here it is. I've finished it. I hope y'all like it, and I'm
sorry for any inconsitancies.
*=Corona didn't really say this. I did. It just fit into the fic.
**disclaimer in part 1**
Several hours had passed since Ares had dropped his bombshell on the
group of people that were sitting in the suite. A shifting of places
had occurred with some people, a more comfortable snuggling with
At the table in the room, there was a group of women, fic writers all
of them, trying to figure out how to come up with the Chaos stone that
Ares.and Joxer.so obviously needed.
"Well, what if we simply write that one of us reaches into our bag and
pulls out the Chaos stone? Do you think that would work?" asked
Mac shook her head. "Probably not. Most likely, that would give us a
stone that looked like the chaos stone, but didn't have the same
properties that we need. I think what we need to have happen is." the
writer trailed off as a thoughtful look appeared on her face.
EC regarded her lover with resignation. "I do believe I know what's
going on in the beautiful head of hers. Mac, darling, do we need to
have things occurring?"
Mac nodded, eyes locked on Ares and Joxer. "Here's what I think needs
to happen." And Mac proceeded to delight the other women at the table.
Ares was well aware that a gaggle of women was watching him with a
hungry gleam in their eyes. It didn't make him uncomfortable that they
were women and regarding him as if he were a slab of meat. Oh no, that
part he rather enjoyed. What bothered him was the fact that they were
a bunch of horny slash writers and that his future sex life depended on
what they could do for him.
He was so preoccupied in imagining all sorts of terrible things that he
completely missed the fact that Corona, the chosen representative
(read: she demanded the right and threatened the others with making
Hercules and Gabrielle central figures in all of her fics from now
until eternity unless she got her way)* was trying to get his
attention. It took Joxer pinching his arm to bring him back to
"Ares! We think we know what we have to do. We can get you your Chaos
stone, but in order for it to do what we need it to do, we need to have
some things happening."
Ares looked apprehensive as he watched a group of women line up behind
Corona, each one looking distinctly horny.
Joxer was watching Corona, however. He thought that he had things
figured out, that he knew what had to occur in order for the Chaos
Stone to be keyed correctly. His guess was confirmed by what the woman
"We need to have a little.treasure hunt, if you will.in order for this
to work correctly. See, we figure, if we just write up a chaos stone,
it'll only fix the things that the women of Olympus want fixed. While
this is a good thing, we also figure that they'd leave you impotent for
a while, one to teach you a lesson, and two, because they would think
it the best way to keep you from impregnating Joxer again. Once he's
had this baby, of course."
Ares looked pissed. "They wouldn't dare. They know that.that.I'd.Oh,
Tartarus, they would, wouldn't they?"
Hades nodded. No one had seen him sidle up to the group. They had
thought he was still deep in conversation with Carrie and Phobetor.
"Yes, they would, and you know it. I suggest that you do whatever
these lovely ladies ask of you, and don't quibble."
Ares' shoulders sagged. "All right, ladies, what is it that you think
we need to do?"
Corona got a wicked grin on her face as she exchanged a look with
Joxer, who nodded his head. "We need to have an erection hunt, of
Scribe looked at the other five women who were sitting at the table.
TW sat to her right, Mac next to her, followed by EC, Scorpio, and Lisa
who was sitting on Scribe's left. All the rest of the occupants of the
room, with the exception of TW's boyfriend J, Cupid, and Strife had
followed Corona, Ares, and Joxer into the suite's ample sized bedroom.
"OK, here's what I think we need to do. Each one of us needs to write
the following sentence: I reached into my purse and pulled out the
sexually charged Chaos Stone, being sure to handle the wonderful piece
of rock carefully. Once we've all written that, each one of us will
reach into our purses and see who the lucky writer is." Scribe said,
looking each woman in the eye.
Every one of them nodded, each one praying that they wouldn't be the
one that it worked for, and yet each one hoping that they could be the
female that got rid of panty hose and spiked heels.
Almost as one, each writer picked up a pen or pencil and pulled a piece
of paper towards them. "Ready?" asked TW.
"Oh, just write, for Hades' sake!" demanded Cupid, startling all of
them to put utensil to paper.
A few moments of scratching and paper rustling later, and the job was
done. All that remained now was for them to see who the lucky one was.
"Oh no, why is it always me that gets suckered into things like this?"
asked Scribe in dismay as she pulled a brightly hued stone out of her
TW sighed. "Because you're the one that's made the most trips into
your private universe, deary. OK, so what do we do now?"
Before anyone could say anything, however, a loud humming began to
emanate from the stone as it started to glow.
"Uh.I don't think we have to do anything." whispered Scribe just as a
strange voice echoed in her head.
//Hello, Scribe. I chose you because you are the one that I like the
best. That is all that you need to know for now. What is it that you
want of me?//
Scribe started, giving the others a clue that something important was
//I.well, the goddesses of Olympus have asked that panty hose and
spiked heels be eliminated from existence. It's a long story.//
Scribe didn't know a rock could laugh. //Yes, I imagine that it is.
I'll tell you what. I like you. I'll do it for you. And I'm going to
do something else.//
Scribe yelped and looked down at her feet. She could feel a tingling
in her ankle.and all of the sudden. The woman blinked. And stood up.
And walked with out a limp for the first time in years.
Tears appeared in her eyes. //Thank you.um.sir? Well.no matter what I
call you. Thank you.//
//Ahhh, gratitude. Just for that, you're going to get a supply of your
favorite treat. For life. And you'll never have to worry about
anything like that again. I'm fixing that too. Oh, and tell Ares to
stop making Joxer pregnant. All they have to do is take a potion once
a month. Not too much to ask, is it?//
Scribe nodded numbly, her mind overcome with all of the things she'd
just been told. And all of the things she knew had happened.
As if on cue, right when the writer felt the presence leave her mind,
there was a triumphant shout from the direction of the bedroom.
TW grinned as she guided the stunned and silent Scribe to her seat. "I
think it worked. Scribe, honey, are you ok?"
The writer nodded. "Yeah, I'm just fine. I need a bowl of ice cream
TW looked startled. "But.Scribe, I thought you were diabetic."
Scribe grinned. "I was. The Chaos stone liked me. My ankle is
better, I'm not diabetic, and I have a lifetime supply of my favorite
treat. And by the sounds coming form the bedroom, I think that little
problem is fixed as well."
The next morning, Ares and Clark were in the kitchen alone, the god
gesturing languidly and conjuring up food for the horde that was
sleeping in the bedroom, the alien making pot after pot after coffee.
There was a comfortable silence in the room, but it didn't last long.
After all, all gods have a level of curiosity they have to satisfy.
"So who are you, anyway? You look familiar and yet."
Clark smiled, thinking about what Christine had said the night before.
"I'm Superman, sir."