AresJoxerCupidStrife - Corona

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Interlude Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

More madness simply because I felt like it, all errors are products of my
own stupidity. Enjoy enjoy.

Title: The Great Swap
Author: Corona
Fandom: Xena
Rating: R?
Archive: Yes, want ask, take, have.
Pairing: C/S
Warning: Nothing obscene
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody here. I never have done and I never will.
I'm borrowing all of them for this story, I'll give them straight back
afterwards.
Series: Probably not, and not connected to the Childhood series in any way.
Summary: Fed up with Cupid and Strife's arguing Zeus decides to be helpful.
Dedication: This is for TW #throws chocolatey things#


8 O'clock: The Fight...


Very angry voices floated out of Cupid's temple and down the hall. Since it
was early they hadn't started to annoy anyone...yet. Though a few half awake
Gods were pulling pillows, sheets and occasionally someone else's thigh over
their head.

"Oh and like your job is strenuous! All that flying around all day looking
pretty that must really take it out of you." Oh now Cupid was glaring,
Strife jabbed him in the chest with a finger for emphasis.
"You spend all day standing around looking sluttishly gormless, except of
course those busy moments where your Mom comes to rearrange your hair!"
Cupid snapped the finger away angrily.
"I'm ten times as busy as you, and at least I actually work, I don't spend
all day stalking nobody's just to make them fall in a river or get stabbed
in a tavern brawl a hundred miles later."
"It's called the art of misdirection you idiot!" Strife was now so upright
he squeaked.

"Do you have any idea how long it takes to compile a profile on every
soldier Ares has!" Cupid rolled his eyes.
"Oh come on they're all called Ug and they like to hit people!" Strife's
eyebrows knotted below his rapidly reddening forehead.
"You have no idea how finely tuned chaos has to be do you." Cupid snorted,
then screwed up his face in mock agony.
"Oh no which haphazard completely accidental mess should I get myself into
today!"
"You just try and do my job with any level of stupidity and you'd be on a
rack before lunch." Strife snapped, flipping his hand in front of Cupid's
face.
"At least I have to think!"
"Like Love calls for tense brain moments, how hard can it be to make mortals
screw they even do it when you're not looking!"

"You don't know the first thing about my job Strife." Strife let loose a
cackle of laughter that had Cupid clenching his fists until his knuckles
cracked.
"Oh please, lets see job requirements." Strife started to tick them off on
his fingers in a joyfully irate manner.
"Ability to look pretty, ability to stand on street corners-"
"Strife! You wanna shut up, you don't know what you're talking about."
"I could do your job with my hands tied!" Cupid snarled.
"You couldn't do my job if someone gave you a manual and a remote control!"
"I could too wing boy!"
"You wouldn’t last a minute!"

"A child could do your job, in fact if I remember rightly Bliss did once
didn't he!" Strife was growling now and they were both leaning into each
other's personal space.
"That was an accident!"
"Well he didn't do too badly considering he's five." Cupid leant forward,
wings drawing backwards to balance him.
"He flew off with my bow for two hours, it was a prank not an
apprenticeship!"

Their voices gradually got louder until they were screaming single words at
each other and Strife was ready to blast Cupid when a flash appeared to
their right, they stopped mid rant to see Zeus smiling patiently.

"Boys." Cupid and Strife both shut their mouths and tried to look totally
innocent. Zeus blinked at them carefully.
"Your voices have been floating along the hallways for quite a while now."
Cupid and Strife remained silent while Zeus considered them both

"This argument has gone on for far too long." Zeus scowled, then
straightened his robes.
"You've both been acting like children and it's starting to bleed over into
the pantheon, you know I won't have that, I don't like fuss and I most
certainly don't like things which won't sort themselves out when I'm not
looking!" He scowled some more.

"Really I would've thought both of you would have grown out of this years
ago! My jobs better than yours indeed. You're in your own areas of expertise
for a reason you know." Strife had the good sense to shuffle and mumble
something. Cupid was still glaring.
"You think it's easy in your own shoes for a reason too, they're your
shoes." Zeus was scowling even harder.
"Hera had some very imaginative ideas on how to solve your dispute." He
paused and took in the uncomfortable and downright panicked looks on their
faces.
"But I managed to persuade her that perhaps something less painful would do
just as well." Identical looks of nervous relief.

"You can be each other for a little while maybe then you will have new
appreciations of each others talents" Zeus raised an eyebrow and regarded
them both, then he regally and very loudly vanished.

Strife raised an eyebrow.
"What did he mean by that?"
Cupid was about to reply when he felt his body shift rather alarmingly, he
looked down, watched his clothes shudder and change until he was wearing a
skin tight black leather suit, which was extremely familiar even down to the
safety pins which poked his nipple every time he moved. He abruptly lost his
sense of balance when leather curled over his shoulder blades and then
constricted round his throat, causing a brief moment of panic when he
thought he might be strangled. He swayed clutched the pillar then inhaled in
surprise when the belt snapped round his waist leaving not an inch of
breathing room.
"Shit!"

"What the-" A hysterical yell from his right and his head whipped up, he was
thoroughly distracted from his own predicament. Strife was now wearing a
skirt and wings, wings?!
"He cannot be serious" he wailed. Cupid found it bizarre the way his bow
straps criss crossed his bare and rather pale chest.
"I’m practically naked"
Strife was trying vainly to cover his nipples with the straps but they kept
sliding off, the bow hung at an awkward angle and he knew if he moved the
quiver would empty itself onto the floor. Cupid somehow couldn't drag up
much sympathy.
"Oh deal with it," He looked down at himself.
"Zeus look at me!" Cupid's eyes bugged and he lifted a hand up.
"I have your earrings, great I'm mutilated as well."
"Hey." Cupid was still fondling himself in abject disbelief.
"Oh god I'm dressed like you!"

Strife shoved him, Cupid wobbled and shoved back.
Strife's eyes widened a little, they widened even further when the movement
sent his new wings drooping and Strife flailed for a handhold, missed,
swayed backwards and smashed into the tiles. A dozen arrows bounced across
the marble and then clattered away. Strife groaned, then collapsed onto an
unbalanced wing joint.

Cupid sniggered.
"Oh very graceful." Strife glared up at him from his splayed position, one
wing hanging messily over his shoulder. He jerked his head to one side when
it flapped at him. Cupid didn't offer to help him up, in the end Strife
settled for flopping forward onto his hands and shuffling upright carefully
holding his shoulders hunched, he didn't look pleased, the quiver was now
hanging round his elbow and the straps were somewhere in the vicinity of his
neck.

"Strife!" They both recognised Ares bellow. Strife gave Cupid a very smug
look while he rearranged his straps and grinned.
"That would be you." That was the first moment that Cupid looked unsure of
himself. Strife's grin picked up by an amusement factor of ten.
"You better go see what he wants." Cupid paused, then scowled and stomped
off grumbling. Strife chuckled, his wings moved and he darted around to try
and stop them, only accomplishing a full circle.
"Arrggh, bloody wings." He glared at Cupid's leather clad back.

"You can still see my nipples!" Followed Cupid irately down the corridor.
That was about the moment that Aphrodite came looking for Cupid, when she
found Strife scowling, his wings flapping in annoyance it took her half an
hour to stop laughing.


9 O'clock: What's so funny?


By the time Aphrodite stopped laughing Strife had almost figured out how to
stand so that he wasn't in danger of being toppled by a the nearest breeze.
You had to hold the part that made your shoulders flex like 'that'while at
the same time keeping the part that made your neck rock back tense. That
kind of made the wings stand still. He still wobbled occasionally but
without making an arse of himself. Now he was upright he could keep his arms
folded carefully over his chest, which solved the partial nudity in a pinch,
he was still pretending no one could see his knees. There was a suspicious
draft somewhere and he really didn't want to contemplate what kind of
underwear was hiding down there. He had his suspicions by the exact nature
of where the draft was going. Which was why twenty seconds ago he'd
carefully clamped the skirt between his thighs.

That had solved one problem but had rendered Aphrodite unable to speak for
another long embarrassing moment. All the scowling in the world had not
lowered the very unladylike laughter.

"Aphrodite." He reminded her sharply, when his neck started to ache. She
immediately straightened, then with some effort wiped the laughter off of
her face.
"Of course sweetie." She smoothed her dress down and held out a hand until a
bundle of scrolls appeared in it. Strife gave them a suspicious look.

"Take these to Hestia, she should be done with yesterdays, she’ll give you
the new ones." Strife took them carefully, glared at them, he didn't like
the way they rustled and prickled on his bare skin. Aphrodite paused then
reached a hand out and started to cheerfully flatten Strife's hair. Since he
didn't have any hands, and if he moved he'd fall over, Strife had no choice
but to stare into space and moan quietly.
"You may want to pop into...your temple first and see if there's any waiting
for you."

Aphrodite stepped back to face his glare, then considered him. If she
brought out a hanky Strife was outta there, wings or no wings.
"You know Strife, you very nearly almost look cute." Aphrodite blew him a
kiss and disappeared.

Strife fumed at the spot where she'd been standing, then glared at the
scrolls, then glared at the world in general. His wings flapped in annoyance
and he growled at them, which only made them flap harder.

---

Cupid tried to scratch his back in the place where his wings should have
been, he very rarely dumped his wings and didn't like the new balance it
gave his body. It felt like someone had run off with his spinal cord. It
wasn't easy walking when you had the oddest feeling you were about to teeter
over onto your face.

That wasn't the worst of it either, it was hot in here, damn hot. The collar
kept squeaking against his neck and he couldn't move his hands properly
inside the gloves. Not to mention the way the belt seemed to be at just the
right height to chafe in some unpleasant places. No wonder Strife was
constantly fidgeting

"I'll melt before sunset" he pulled at the collar of the outfit, feeling
squashed, chafed and annoyed. Then of course there was the jingling, and
since it was quite impossible to see into your own ear, he was dealing with
that as well. He'd figured out halfway to his dad's temple that the only way
to walk in Strife's boots was a sort of bouncing stomp, which he was certain
made him look like a total lunatic but didn't squash his toes to Tartarus.
Great just great, he was now certain that the most difficult thing about
temporarily being Strife was living in his clothes.

So it was with an aura of angry en-squashment that Cupid strode into Ares
temple. There was no point trying to be quiet since Strife's outfit made
more noise than your average wedding bed.
"Dad!"

Ares appeared out of thin air.
"I tol-." Ares paused, eyebrows climbing. He wandered carefully around his
son, making small noises in the back of his throat. Then finally came to
stand in front of him, the weight of Cupid's glare didn't seem to be
bothering him.
"Cupid why are dressed like Strife?" Cupid folded his arms in a riot of
squeaking.
"Zeus caught us arguing." He offered and didn't care a bit if he sounded
stroppy.
"Ah," Ares decided, since that pretty much explained everything.

"So you're..."
"Being Strife."
"Ah." Ares mouth very slowly curled upwards.
"And Strife's?"
"Being me." Ares mouth continued to climb.
"Really? Strife's being you? I bet that came as a bit of a shock." Cupid
glared at him some more.
"Yes, ok, very funny, so I'm supposed to be doing Strife things." Cupid
reminded him. His father's grin was now a permanent fixture and didn't look
as if it would be shifting any time soon.

"Strife things?" Ares said carefully through the grin.
"Yes." The grin was flickering now.
"Indeed, well then I better give you some Strife things to do, hadn't I?"
Cupid shuffled, nodded. He was starting not to like that grin.

---

Strife flashed into the temple and glanced around flowers, hearts, sweeties,
pinkyness, yeurgh. He fought the urge to flee, there were a few crying women
too he could hear them from here. He doubted they were for decoration
either, he'd probably have to do something with them later. It probably
wouldn't be any fun.

A priest appeared from an alcove and glanced at the scowling Strife in a
mixture of surprise, confusion and fear. Strife fixed him with a withering
glare and fear replaced everything.
"Scrolls new ones, show me!" Strife snapped, the priest looked around and
saw no quick means of escape, this wasn’t Cupid but it was a God after all.
"Umm on the altar...My Lord?" Strife sighed and flapped up the temple in the
annoying sandals.

He was passed by a few more priests, he was sure one of the crying women
hurried by too, at least it definitely got louder for a second. He found the
scrolls alright, piled haphazardly on some squishy cushions, there were a
lot of them, he sighed. It took him a second to work out the jittery priest
had followed him. He glared at him.
"So what do I do now?"

"Umm well our lord usually talks to some of the visitors."
"Which would be the crying women huh?" The priest nodded slowly. Strife
mumbled something unintelligible and stormed into the front of the temple
with a frown. He promptly discovered this was probably bad when screaming
ensued.

---


Cupid pulled roughly on his outfit as he peered into the campsite. What was
he supposed to be looking for anyway! I mean 'Spy on Hercules' wasn't
exactly difficult but if Hercules and Iolaus didn't stop talking about fish
soon he was going to scream, then they'd probably know he was here.

This was pointless, completely and totally pointless. Great he'd get back to
Olympus and report that Hercules ate some fish, talked about fish for an
hour, then ate some more fish.

He tugged harder at the collar then flapped it as best as he could, Gods
didn't die of heat stroke right? Zeus it was hot in here. He groaned and
tried to find some laces to undo, or something. There were several knives
that came with the outfit, he was going to slash a hole in it if things got
really desperate. He would have to be desperate though, since it was almost
painfully obvious that the suit was the only thing he was wearing.

Then he found himself praying to no one in particular that Hercules would do
something interesting, didn't matter what, just something, please Zeus
anything!



10 O'clock: Caution Mischief at Work...


It took Strife a good twenty minutes to get to one of the screaming women,
mostly because she was accusing him of being a nymph and throwing cushions
at him. Ducking was something he hadn't quite mastered, so most of them were
hitting him.

"Zeus will you stop doing that." At least she'd stopped screaming, she
looked quite cross in fact.
"Hey lady, quit that!" He didn't think frying them in mid-air was going to
help the situation. Instead he snagged one and threw it back. She looked
quite startled right up until the moment it smacked her. She blinked through
a look of surprise, then promptly burst into tears.

Which admittedly didn't help the situation, but it did give him an
opportunity to wobble closer. She was still sobbing into her hands when he
carefully sat down, wavered, then remained straight.
"Umm...lady?" She didn't move, just leaked quietly and trembled like a
rabbit in a trap. Great, wonderful, he'd made her cry and he didn't have a
bloody clue how to make her stop.
"Umm...there, there." That didn't seem to work, though he remembered vaguely
that some sort of reassuring patting was involved. Strife gnawed on his
lower lip, lifted a hand vaguely and settled it on her shoulder, shook her
just a little.

That didn't accomplish much either, he sat there uncomfortably, eyes
flickering left and right, he sighed, looked at the lady again. How long
would this go on anyway, ten minutes? Til lunchtime? Possibly all day? On a
spark of inspiration he waved a hand and plucked a hanky out of nowhere,
waved it in her general direction.

The sobbing stopped abruptly, thanks to this magic talisman and a small hand
came out, took the black cloth. There were a few loud nose blowing noises
and the hanky went back into the hands.

"So you're not a nymph then?" Strife scowled at her, crying lady or not, a
nymph!
"No, I'm the God of Mischief." The lady peered at him.
"Why are you pretending to be Cupid?" Strife tried to ignore the wings
shifting on his back.
"It's sort of a thing, a job thing, it's a long story." Which quite clearly
he wasn't going to tell her, nosey mortal. The lady looked down at the
hanky, eyes still leaking slightly.
"So is he coming later, because he said he'd see me, I've been waiting
nearly a year, he said he'd talk to me." Strife didn't really feel like
telling her that he didn't have a clue when Cupid would be in his own
sandals again. She was looking thoroughly miserable as it was. The hanky
might not work a second time.

"I dunno, what's ya name." The lady blinked at him, twisted the hanky some
more.
"Lydia." Ok this was progress, he had a name, what the Tartarus came next?
Come on Cupid did this job, how hard could it possibly be to fix a crying
mortal.
"So what's up?" Lydia frowned at him, then frowned at the hanky, then sighed
and shrunk just a little.
"My husband keeps running away with other women." Strife blinked for a
second.
"Keeps?" Lydia blinked, one side of her mouth curled up slightly.
"Oh he always comes back." She blinked some more and Strife fought the urge
to just poke around in her head to see where this was going.
"And that's a good thing?" Lydia nodded.
"Are you sure?" She frowned, seemed completely confused for a second. Strife
raised an eyebrow. Lydia started talking before he could offer his expert
opinion.

"I'm supposed to forgive his transgressions, we're supposed to work through
them because we love each other?" Strife didn't fail to catch the fact that
it ended up as a question but something else about that sentence was already
disturbing him.
"Transgressions, plural? How many women are we talking about here?" The lady
looked at her lap, twisted the handkerchief into a gnarled little ball.
"Fourteen," she said very quietly. Strife blinked rapidly at her.

"I know," she said quietly.
"We have to talk about it, because he loves me and I probably still love him
deep down, and he'll settle down maybe if we have children." The hanky was
twisting round and round in her hands.
"Because he's my husband and we have to talk about things right? We have to
work it out right?"

Strife shook his head.
"Na uh, you dump all his clothes in the privy, fill the bed full of all the
nastiest little critters you can find, pack up, and go tell your brothers
what a nasty little shit he is!" Lydia dropped the hanky and stared at him,
her shiny eyes were looking slightly startled.

---

The hanky trick, Strife decided, was worth it's weight in gold, there should
be a God of Handkerchief's it was amazing. He was currently giving one, his
sixth maybe, to a tiny little slip of a girl balanced almost as precariously
as him on one of the chairs.

"Ok talk to Strife." The girl spoke quietly into what seemed to be her own
neck, Strife could hear her well enough but felt himself leaning all the
same.
"He works in the bakery, his name's Parnus." Strife waited but there didn't
seem to be any more.
"And?" The girl looked up, then looked down again.
"My father delivers the bread." Strife found himself leaning even farther.
"Yes?" There was a long period of silence. Strife waited, then rolled his
eyes.

"What else?" The girl swallowed.
"He's nice?" Then she blushed, her face went the colour of strawberries and
her mouth twitched. Strife was on the verge of toppling over when he stopped
himself.
"Can you write?" The girl looked startled.
"Just nod or shake your head." The girl nodded, then swallowed and added.
"A little."
"And this guy, Penis or whatever? He reads right?" The girl's mouth was open
just a little, eyes wide and slightly shocked, she managed a nod.
"Right well there you go, write to the guy, trust me, write long rambling
letters of devotion and pinkness ok?" The girl was smiling like a loon when
he hopped off the couch.

---

Strife thwapped his way back up the temple, this was easy, this was almost
fun! He could do this, lets see Cupid accuse him of screwing this up. People
were all happy, Strife hadn't fallen over in at least an hour, including
teaching the rather fearsome Larice how to break someone's jaw with one
punch.

He almost knew his way around as well, though he did get a little turned
around in the corridor of incense. Which wasn't hard since the clouds of
whatever was burning he noticed had faint hallucinogenic properties and
smelled like pancakes.

The priests were still giving him rather paranoid looks from behind some of
the statues, but all the crying had stopped, that didn't mean it wasn't loud
anymore. There was some laughing, a lot of talking, a few verbal
demonstrations of exactly what some of them intended to do when they got
home, and the very faint sound of a quill scratching on paper.

Right what was he supposed to be doing? The scrolls, that was it! He turned
and nearly ran smack into a tiny moving thing, which wobbled. It turned out
to be another female shaped mortal, only this one didn't look so good. In
fact she looked as if someone had made some physical objections to her face.
She immediately leant away from him, cowered almost.

"What's your name?" He said very quietly. The girl, for Zeus she couldn't be
much more than that, lowered her eyes.
"D...D...Deana." Strife settled his hands on his hips and mumbled something
under his breath. He looked back over his shoulder.
"Althea!" A tall blonde turned and waved at him over the incense.
"How many brothers you got?" Althea frowned and followed Strife's body line
to the young girl now looking frightened against a pillar.
"Eight." She said simply, Strife nodded. Laid a careful hand on Deana's
shoulder.
"See that lady over there, the tall pretty one?" Deana nodded silently.
"She's your new best friend, go talk to her ok?" Deana's eyes went slightly
wide, she ventured a tiny peer at Strife and an even tinier smile.

"Right, now all of you bugger off home." Strife commanded and flip flopped
out of the temple.



11 O'clock: Can I scream yet?


The first thing Ares noticed when he flashed into his temple was the muddy
scroll laying on his desk. It had fingerprints on it and had been tied so
tightly it looked like a deformed Solstice cracker. He grinned and very
carefully unrolled it. It was written in his son's carefully flowing
handwriting, even if the quill had been pressed slightly deeper into the
paper than usual.



Dad aka Evil Spawn of Tartarus,

9:05 - Sat in some poison ivy and watched Hercules eat fish, the fish
doesn't look evil, or possessed, it looks like fish.

9:20 - Hercules and Iolaus talk about fish, I'm lost? Is this rubbish
important? What's a bomb anyway?

9:30 - Hercules and Iolaus are still talking about fish. I'm hot and I'm
itching and I think I sat in something.

9:40 -Iolaus is now showing Hercules where a pike once bit him, this may not
be important but it's something new.

9:50 -Hercules and Iolaus are still talking about fish, I'm starting to
worry about the itching. I can't get my fingers into any of the damn lace
holes, I think there's something wrong with my skin.

9:55 -I think this stupid outfit is full of grass, yes they're still talking
about fish and I'm still lost, it's all number six's and spinner's and
rig's. Is this important, is it code? I'm memorising the conversation just
in case.

10:05 -I was investigated by a cow, I don't think it was a God, or a monster
in disguise. It left me a present, so I'm now sitting on the other side of
the tree. The litany of fish continues, and my pants are chafing. How much
longer?

10:10 -Have picked another tree since the swarm of wasps objected to my
presence.

10:20 -Fish, fish, fish, fish.

10:35 -I've lost four of Strife's knives, I have no idea when, probably
during the mad wasp scramble. Am using one of the remaining eight to prise
cow pooh out of my boot. Will wipe it on the grass afterwards. Them? Still
talking about fish.

10:45 -No way does Strife have this much patience? You're taking the piss
aren't you?

10:50 -Take a wild guess!!!!

10:55 -I wanna come home, screw this.


Cupid

p.s. I hate you


Ares carefully set the letter down, before dissolving into a shaking heap of
laughter.

---


Cupid squished his way into Strife's temple, well aware that one of his
boots was leaving a slightly less than fresh little trail of prints. Grass
occasionally fell out of his hair, and his sleeves. By the feel of it there
was also a crushed wasp in his ear. He wandered around for a while and
eventually found the bathroom.

Ok so it was done in Strife's taste, and the tub looked a little scary with
all the claws, and the severed skeletal hand that held the soap wasn't
pretty but it was a bath dammit and he didn't care how creepy and black it
was, it was a bath and he was even thinking plaintatively.

He lifted his hands and tried to fiddle with the collar, tugged it right,
tugged it left, tried to tug it over his head, then stopped and remained
perplexed.

He tried the sleeves, the gloves, one of the boots, and as an ultimate last
resort, one of the remaining knives, no not that one. All it did was make a
crease in the leather.

The outfit was going nowhere.

Cupid said a very bad word.

He had to sit on the bathtub for a while and calm down. He wasn't used to
feeling like putting his foot through a wall and it wasn't nice. He didn't
see how it could get worse than this though, he could be optimistic, he was
great at optimism. Besides Strife had to be having way less fun than him
right? In fact he was probably hysterical right about now, panicking even,
and that thought definately made him feel better. Yes he'd come out looking
good, even if it involved more cows and the occasional fish.

He gave the tub a slightly forlorn look, that would have been so nice as
well. Finally he straightened and stood up. He could do this, if he could do
his own job blindfolded then he could do this and no one was proving
otherwise.

After waving himself mostly clean and fishing the wasp out of his ear he
traipsed back into the main temple. Everything that wasn't black was silver,
and everything that wasn't silver was red. Colours may as well not exist in
Strife's world. He went to the desk and flopped into the awkwardly shaped
chair, then stared at the jumbled pile in front of him.

Strife obviously didn't believe in any sort of filing system, but Cupid
figured today's scrolls would be the slightly cleaner less crumpled and
smudged ones. Most of the handwriting he recognised, a few he didn't. Under
the scroll's were several hastily sketched drawings, mostly weaponry but
also a few unflattering caricatures of some of the Pantheon, oh including
one of him, complete with outsize wings, bird eyes and one of his mother's
dresses, how nice. Then there were the ledgers, so well-thumbed they would
probably be sentient in a few millennia. Under that, probably desk, he had a
look. Apparently not, at the very bottom was a stash of red liquorice.

Since he was here anyway he had a look in the drawers. He reasoned that it
wasn't really snooping since he was temporarily being Strife, sort of. The
first one might as well be labelled 'silver' since it was full of knife
blades, hilts, earrings and what looked like a very fine garrotte with
silver ends.

The next one down was full of lots of tiny pieces of paper, full of hastily
scribbled messages which meant almost nothing to him. They weren't code they
were just in some sort of shorthand that he didn't have any experience with.
He got the nasty feeling that some of them were orders for executions
though.

He opened the next draw and only then started to think that maybe he
shouldn't be looking after all. There were more drawings in there, not
caricatures, but sketches that were probably done in a hurry, then stuffed
away. Cupid shut the draw and his hand wavered over the last two, then
settled on the arm of the chair.

Where was he supposed to be now anyway? He rifled through a few of the
scrolls, most of them just demanded 'today' in no particular order. He
sighed, grabbed a few of them, wiggled a finger in his ear and flashed out.


The Great Swap part 5, Disclaimers with pt 1



12 O'clock: Love is...pot luck?

Strife had eventually made his way back to Cupid's home temple, staying on
earth too long would probably confuse people after all. He didn't want to
leave Cupid's job all messed up. That would be another thing the feathery
idiot could blame him for.

Besides he was doing pretty well so far, making people happy, meeting new
people. It was lunchtime and no one had tried to hit him yet! This stuff
wasn't half bad, or as hard as he'd figured. Sure it still wasn't as cool as
his own job, no one died and the clothes sucked but he could do this, this
was almost impossible to screw up.

He was getting used to the pinkness too, it helped if you pretended you were
in a really huge candy factory, he was even getting used to seeing his own
knees every time he looked down. He didn't like it much but he was getting
used to it. He'd given up trying to get the harness to stay straight and he
was studiously ignoring the wings. That helped, since every time he thought
about them they used some kind of evil mind power to flap.

He pulled the quiver thing over his head and set it down and Zeus it was
nice to get rid of that. The bow was still bouncing somewhere in the
vicinity of his hip but he'd taken the arrow out. The last thing he needed
was some mysterious red feathered arrow sticking out of his foot.

He flopped around the couches, stopped to dump the scrolls he'd picked up
amongst the cushions, and wandered into the main rooms. He paused to fiddle
with his ear, which was bare and completely naked, he could always get it
pierced later if he had time.

Hermes had already been by the looks of it, left numerous weird items on
Cupid's table. Strife snorted, then fiddled with a few of them, until he was
more or less satisfied what they were. He'd share them around later, and of
course he still had to go and see Hestia. Probably not a good idea to take
any of these with him!

He picked up the large scroll embossed in gold. He should really get these
out of the way first. He stuffed it under one harness strap and then went
looking for the quiver he'd dropped. Which had rolled under one of the
couches, so he had to spend another five minutes hunting arrows and then
carefully shoving them back in.

Then he unhooked the bow and looked at it. Well he could use a crossbow,
give him any weapon and he could pretty much kill someone with it, this
probably worked just like that, only without the killing, right? He
carefully swung the quiver onto his back again and disappeared.

---

Ten minutes later he was on the roof overlooking a very busy marketplace.
Victim number one was wearing a red hat and he kept losing him behind the
fruit and vegetable stall. The big important scroll was under one of his
elbows, flapping in the wind, so it was sort of difficult to read.

"Ok man in red hat, you got a little squiggle and a sort of blue thing after
your name." Strife tugged the quiver over his shoulder and peered into it,
frowned. There weren't any blue arrows. There was red, white, pink, green,
silver and black but no blue.
"What the-" Strife peered deeper, shook the thing, still no blue arrows. He
consulted the waving scroll. The next one had a yellow thing, the third a
brown, the fourth red. Which suggested the coloured thing had nothing to do
with the arrow colour.
"Shit!" He looked closer at the squiggle, great love code!

He turned the scroll around, then pinned it down before it blew away. Right
he worked for War he was a master at code. It looked like some kind of
shorthand history, he flicked his eyes down the list. Yep the best he could
figure it was a history of each person, which meant the last letter should
be the colour right? There were several J's and a few R's so that didn't
work after all.

He stared at the man. He could ask Aphrodite, she was unlikely to yell at
him and smack him one after all. But then what if Cupid wasn't needing any
help, what if he was breezing through Strife's job like a greased up snake.
No screw it, he'd use a mixture of guesswork and intuition. Man in blue hat
was admittedly being followed by lady in green dress. So he'd wait until Mr
Blue hat was looking at green lady.

Strife groped around in the quiver and snagged a couple of arrows. Two of
them were red and one was white. He blinked at them for a second. Ok which
was what? Well it had been a red arrow in the bow before he took it out and
Mr Blue hat was first on the list. He carefully poked the red arrow into the
bow and lifted it. Aimed straight between Mr Blue hat's eyes.
"Smile." He pulled the trigger.

The man jumped liked someone had smacked him and that was sort of funny. It
worked, yes, points for Strife! Mr Blue hat had grabbed the lady in green
and kissed her, the green lady was kissing back so that had to be right.
Well ok maybe they were getting a little excited but if they got arrested
for indecency that wasn't his problem right.

---

A little further up the country and almost an hour later Strife was hanging
off of another roof carefully swinging from side to side. He was getting
really good at this! He couldn't help but grin as he swayed in the wind,
this was fun! He let the white arrow go and the man further up the path
stumbled a little, then stopped as if he'd stepped in something. Strife took
the quill out from between his teeth and scratched the guy off of the list.

---


Somewhere in central Greece there are two very sheepish people in a jail
cell trying not to look at each other. One of them is a baker and the other
is the wife of the local Warlord.

Somewhere in Athens a barmaid has knocked out five guards and is climbing
the tower fully intending to abduct the prince and spirit him away somewhere
where there'll be no beer...ever.

Somewhere else in Athens a very fearsome Warlord and a young poet who likes
to write about flowers have decided to run away together.

Somewhere in Corinth, a tiny young women has knocked the living daylights
out of her husband for smiling at the lady next door.

Somewhere else in Corinth a hooded executioner has stolen an expensive box
of chocolates.

Somewhere in Thrace there is a very confused young man whose wife and two
sister's have all declared their love for jugglers and have run away with
the circus.

Not far away, the son of the richest man in Thrace is very shyly offering
flowers to the bearded lady.

Somewhere in a field there is a nice young man declaring his love to a young
apple tree. The apple tree is very surprised and just a little flattered but
since the whole thing with Zeus it's remaining cautious about such things.



The Great Swap - Side Story
by Multimapper

Kenrus was walking away from his home village quietly. People had
learned over the years to ask very little from him, and that was
fine with him. The entire village considered him the embodiment of
the word 'wastrel'. Laziness just happened, it wasn't his goal, but
since he was a young lad there had been no reason to be anything
more. His father had tried to beat the concept of the need for 'an
honest day's work' into him over the years; however, his father
finally accepted the widely held opinion that the words and beatings
were wasted on him.

His current trek away from the people of the village and certainly
away from the work of the fields lead him to the quiet sanctuary of
his favourite grove of trees. It was a good spot to relax and think.
He would spend his afternoons in this grove throughout the year,
except during harvest season, of course. Even then, he might stop by
after his father's workers had finished their days work.

Today, Kenrus was enjoying the late spring afternoon and singing a
little song about absolutely nothing. Halfway through the third
verse of his song he noticed the young apple tree directly in front
of him and something changed... everything changed...

*****

Liused was basking in the sunlight. Midday during the warm seasons
was a celebration of life. Her leaves were soaking in the sunlight,
and breathing in the air. Her roots were soaking up the ample water
in the ground of the meadow and her entire body was stretching
toward the sky in the exuberance of living. After the sleep of the
winter and the leaf growth and blossoming of spring, the
exhilarating transition into summer was a feeling to be cherished.

She noticed that one of the 'man animals' was sitting before her
beneath her sibling Kimber. When he was just a cub, and she was
little more than a sapling, he started coming to the grove to play.
As he grew, he continued to come to the grove, sometimes to sleep,
sometimes to play and other times, like today, just to sing.

The following sequence of events seemed to happen in the blink of
a 'man animals' eye from the perception of a tree. Liused sensed the
tingle of a god presence. She knew it wasn't one of the gods from
the house of nature or she would recognise the tingle. There was a
burst of god power being released; Kenrus' voice suddenly stopped in
the midst of the song, and then Kenrus was embracing her trunk.
Apparently the god presence had gone, though Liused hadn't noticed
the departure.

Something had happened to Kenrus.

*****

Kenrus was overcome with his emotions. This beautiful tree was
before him and was the only thing he desired in the world. She was
perfection; elegant grace and perfect shape. The texture of her bark
was sensuous joy under his fingertips and the rustle of her leaves
was poetry to his ears. In a whispering voice, he said, "I love
you."

There was no answer. She was a tree, how could there be an answer?
But he knew somehow that she didn't believe him. He stood back from
her and watched her graceful beauty as her leaves and branches
swayed slightly in the gentle breeze. With a feeling of
determination and purpose unknown to him before this day, he knew
that he would have to prove to her that his love was real and that
he was worthy of her love. He stepped forward and caressed the bark
of her trunk with the fingertips of one hand and said, "I know that
you can't believe me now, but you will. I DO love you." And with
that declaration he walked away.

*****

Liused felt Kenrus touch on her trunk. He spoke some words in the
mortal language that no tree could understand, but the emotion
radiating from him and the gentleness of his touch brought
understanding. //He loves me!// she thought to herself. Remembering
the presence of the god earlier made her disbelieve the integrity of
his emotions. She remembered the stories of caution that she had
been told as a sapling about Zeus and the follies of the gods. //You
can't really love me, this is a trick of the gods.// she projected
in the manner she used to speak to her siblings.

To her great surprise, he stepped back from her. She felt the change
in his emotion and heard the change in his tone of voice. Liused
felt his understanding of her statement and his response. She knew
that he intended to prove his love to her. Despite her caution, the
tiniest spark of hope came alive within the core of her being. The
love and determination that radiated from Kenrus made her hope, deep
inside, that he would prove it.

As he walked away, she was confused. Not about his feelings but her
own. For a tree to love a 'man animal' was unthinkable. Of course
many of the trees loved the 'man animal' cubs, but that was
different. Trees were known to shelter and protect the young of all
animals. But this love, romantic love... it just couldn't happen.

Could it?

1 O'clock: Fire in the hold...

Cupid wasn't exactly tired, you couldn't be a God and suffer from
exhaustion, especially not after only an hour. However that was the only
thing that could account for the fact that he was actually trudging. One
foot shuffling in front of the other. He didn't feel like Mischief, he felt
like public enemy number one!

He'd tried, Zeus help him he'd tried, he'd settled all the scrolls out and
he'd been everywhere, trying to remain curious and intrigued. He'd figured
this was a good chance to try other things, extend his knowledge, get to
know the other half of his family. He paused in his trudging and shuddered.

He'd been to see Discord first, who'd shouted a lot about general
incompetence, then made a lot of very unflattering comments about Zeus
emotional state. Then she'd prodded him, hard, and he'd swear that somewhere
under the leather they'd be a big dent in the flesh from one of her creepy
nails. Apparently he'd managed to screw something up by doing something, or
by not doing something? He didn't catch much of what she was implying over
the shouting and the feeling that if he moved she'd prod him again. He
didn't have a clue how to react to that so he'd just sort of stood there.

Which apparently had made her even madder. She'd accused him of zoning out
and not taking her seriously. So he figured he was probably supposed to do
something. The smile and nod technique wasn't going to cut it with Discord,
so he'd stood there perfectly straight and tried to look as if he was
listening intently. This got him accused of pulling faces at her!

He'd had to escape when she disappeared into the back of the temple and he
knew that was going to come back and bite him later.

Next...well, he rubbed the spot on his face where Deimos had licked him. Not
with any suggestion of arousal either, just general all purpose licking. He
wasn't sure why, maybe to see where he'd been, he didn't want to think about
it overmuch. His little brother was odd at the best of times, sometimes he
was so odd Cupid thought he lived in another universe entirely.

He hadn't technically had to escape from Deimos because he'd been abandoned
in the middle of the temple while Fear went off to do...whatever it was he
actually did?

Oh and he was also dragging the sword Phonos had given him in a long leather
sheath. He wasn't touching it, no matter how much the thin God of Murder had
reassured him. Something about retractable blades and chopping off of
wrists, apparently the thing was for Strife. He'd requested a fully
functioning weapon complete with nasty practical joke. Heph had made it,
Ares had reviewed it and Phonos was giving it back with his own
blood-drenched seal of approval.

Quite clearly the entire House of War were a few sandwiches short of a
picnic basket. He was fairly certain you weren't supposed to go around being
happy that your job involved finding new and unusual ways to make mortals
suffer.

He stopped trudging and leant on the doors to War's temple until they
grudgingly admitted him. Oh yes, there was also his father, who seemed to
think this was all very amusing. He was going to suffer for that once he got
his bow back, and he dreaded to think what Strife was doing with that!
Surely Zeus wouldn't let him pick up all the duties assigned to him. Strife
couldn't see Love anymore than he could see Mischief. That was in the blood
not the job.

Just what was Strife doing anyway? He wasn't exactly a people person. Strife
didn't...relate well, he didn't get people and he certainly didn't get love,
not if this day was anything to go by. He was probably ruining everything.

"Cupid?" His father was still sitting at the desk amidst lots of tiny bits
of metal. Cupid slouched round until he could face him.
"I was going to go back to Strife's temple but I figured you'd probably want
something." Ares grinned which was a definite yes, probably carrying
something sharp and dangerous or maybe mowing Hades lawn. There was sure to
be one somewhere in Tartarus then at least the only audience would be dead
people.

"Aren't you having fun?" Oh Ares looked so smug. Cupid dropped the sheath
with a clatter.
"Heaps, I couldn't be having more fun. Deimos licked me, Phonos tried to
chop my hand off, Mania stalked me the entire time I was in his temple and
I'm pretty certain Discord is going to kill me next time I see her." He
shifted the pants again, then scratched absently through the leather.

"It's not that I'm busy it's just...well no one's taking me seriously for a
start, half of them are laughing and the other half just hate me." Ares
'hmmed' into his little metal things.
"See you're doing it too! If there's things I'm supposed to be doing then
tell me!" Ares paused long enough to raise an eyebrow at him.

"I'm serious Dad, I'm in this and I'm not getting out of it until Zeus comes
back or cools down or stops doing...whatever he's doing and fixes it." Ares
made a noise which suggested that could be a while, then crossed his arms.
"You really want to do it, you really want to be Strife?" Some parts of his
brain admittedly were screaming 'gods no!' but he'd gone a little far to
come out looking like a chicken now.
"Yes! He's being me." Ares sighed
"Cupid you're...easier," Cupid gritted his teeth, refrained from saying
anything in response to that.
"What are my duties?"

Ares eyes narrowed a fraction.
"Fine, you want to do this job properly? Fine, get me a list of every
soldier assigned to General Darius who have allegiances in Thrace. Take a
copy of it to Apate, let her review it and bring it back. Tell Phonos I want
the best assassin he has in the city before dark, then go North and see
about stirring up trouble in their camp. Be quick, clean and chaotic, you
have an hour and twenty minutes." Ares looked at him.
"Can you do that?"

To be honest what wanted to come out was 'er?' but Cupid wasn't going to let
that out if his life depended on it.
"Yes." It didn't come out very loud but it was a definite affirmation.
"Then why are you still standing there!" Ares growled, Cupid swallowed
frantically, then vanished.


---

"Shit!" A stack of paper, held down by a pair of manacles was jiggled a
little too far by Cupid's elbow and went slithering floorwards with a
rustle.
"Shit." A tanned hand snatched then up, turned them round, set them down.
Cupid pinned them with the same elbow then turned his chart around. It
looked more like an ancient puzzle than genealogy.
"Father, brother, uncle...gotcha, no widowed, how could you be dead. Don't
they get ticked off if they're dead?!" The paper went flying.

"Wife, yes, sister-in law, general, oh for the love of Zeus what was his
rank in Thrace, ok no rank he was in jail, is that allowed?" Cupid made a
noise and there was some brief scribbling, then some looking out of the
window.
"Shit!" More paper went flying off of the desk.
"Strife for the love of Zeus have you never heard of putting things in
order!" Some more charts were swivelled, Cupid ate some red liquorice.
"Menalith? Where did I see that name?" A great wealth of rustling and a
quick sweep of liquorice flavoured hand through hair, until it stuck up in
all directions. This wasn't fair, this wasn't right, Strife wasn't supposed
to be able to do things like this. He was jittery and he had an attention
span of about six seconds.

He found the mystery man in his hastily piled stack of 'children' ignored
him. He glanced at the window again.
"Shit!" He hurriedly scribbled down two more names and got up so fast the
chair smashed on the marble, then he grabbed a handful of liquorice and
vanished.



2 O'clock: The hands-on approach

Phobos was looking very nervous. He'd obediently wrapped the sheet that Hebe
had given him around his waist and was now eyeing Strife carefully.
"It said I'll have to do it if I'm still like this tomorrow." Strife pointed
out, and prodded one of the scrolls on the table.
"I don't know how so Hebe said she'd show me." Hebe admittedly looked as if
she was wondering what on earth she was doing.
"You really seriously want to learn." Strife gestured at the scroll again.
"Got to, one of my thingies...duties." Hebe shook her head.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." Strife frowned at her.
"What is with people that they instantly think I'm going to fuck something
up just cos I've never done it before?" Hebe blinked at him.
"Ok so it's not killing people or general bloody mayhem, you never done
anything different?" Hebe was looking slightly startled, he sighed at her.
"Fine I guess I could find a scroll or something that tells me what to do."
Which he probably could, somewhere.

"Phobos get on the table." Hebe said quietly, completely missed Strife
grinning behind her. Phobos looked from Hebe to Strife then made a very
quiet noise and twined the sheet tighter around his waist. However he did
climb on the table and balance himself on his elbows.
"Why me?" Hebe cleared her throat.
"You're the only one that wasn't busy, and well that said yes." Phobos
buried his head in one of the fluffy towels and mumbled something they
couldn't decipher. Then he raised it and sighed.
"Oh for the love of Zeus get on with it then."

Hebe took a deep breath and stepped forward far enough to unknot Phobos
sheet, didn't miss the hand he dropped to hold on to it.
"Oh don't be such a prude."
"I'm not a prude I'm Panic remember, it's my natural state that something
life threatening is going to happen. Though at this point it's more of a
premonition." He shifted enough to glare at Strife.

Hebe ignored both of them and waved a hand, the altar was now home to
several more towels and a bowl of oil. Strife wandered over to it and
sniffed the bowl.
"Why does it smell like flowers?"
"I don't want to smell like flowers." Phobos offered from the table.
"Oh for pity's sake." Hebe waved a hand again and the smell changed into
something minty, better but not by much.

"Right now just put your hands in...no Strife I didn't mean plunge them in
to your elbows, wipe some of that off...that's better." Strife giggled,
peered at his oily hands, then giggled again. Hebe folded her arms and
scowled at him.
"I look like I'm about to f-."
"Finish that sentence and I'll ding you round the ear." Hebe warned. Strife
shut his mouth, then snorted quietly. Hebe then took one of Strife's hands
and started to carefully pull off all of his rings.
"Normally it wouldn't matter but the spiky ones probably won't feel all that
nice."
"Spiky what?" Phobos sounded worried but couldn't actually see what they
were doing.
"What spiky things?" Hebe set them all carefully down on the altar while
Strife watched. Then went back towards Phobos.
"I took his rings off." She readjusted the sheet, before Phobos had a chance
to pull it up again.

"Right Strife get over here." Strife carefully made his way to the table,
where Phobos was quietly grumbling to himself. He dripped all over Cupid's
temple floor but he could fix that later.
"Ok now just put your hands on his back." Strife complied with a rather
exuberant 'splat.' Hebe sighed, Phobos grunted.

"Ok a little hard but at least you're there." Strife remained still, oil
slid down Phobos sides.
"Ok now what?" Hebe seemed to be considering what she said next carefully.
"Strong stroking motions, all the way down the back." Strife complied,
awkwardly.
"Is that ok?"
"I feel like a horse." Phobos pointed out.
"That's ok you look like one too." Before Panic could reach around and hit
him Hebe rearranged the sheet again, which she'd discovered was a very good
distraction technique.

"That's fine Strife, little harder but not much." The hands awkwardly went
back and forth.
"Ok now push out slightly along his flanks." Strife chuckled and complied.
"See you have flanks, you are a horse."
"Prick." Strife sniggered.
"Nope it's you that feels like an oiled up c-."
"Strife!" He shut his mouth but Phobos was now glaring at him over his
shoulder.
"If you could concentrate for five minutes." Hebe sounded annoyed so Strife
went back to pushing and sliding.

"Right now palms only, dig in slightly as you push out."
"Huh?" Hebe leant over and placed a hand on Phobos lower back.
"Like this, firm but not hard?" Strife stuck his hand below hers and
attempted it. Phobos made a very strange noise and Strife took his hand
away.
"What?" Hebe was smirking at him.
"I think he liked that." Strife glared at Phobos.
"Well don't." Then Hebe was laughing at him.
"What? What'd I do now?"

"I take it you've never had a massage?" Strife gave her a bewildered look.
"Why would anyone bother?" Great now she was given him an even weirder look,
so he put his hands back on Phobos and started the up and down again. She
didn't say anything else so he figured that was right. He got to the neck
and just carried on stroking. Hebe cleared her throat.
"Ok try round the neck now, a rolling motion, be firm but not hard." Strife
cautiously attempted this but Phobos didn't have much neck so he tried his
fingers instead.

"Ow, shit Strife!" Strife took his hands away.
"What?" Hebe shook her head.
"I said a rolling motion."
"That was." Strife pointed at Phobos neck with an oily finger. Hebe shook
her head again.
"No that was an Athenian death grip, we're not paralysing Phobos from the
neck down this is supposed to be relaxing." Strife glared at Phobos, then
twisted until he could see Hebe.
"I was doing what you said!"
"I don't know what kind of grip it was, but it bloody hurt." Phobos piped up
from the towels.
"Oh shut up, what do you know." Phobos grumbled something else, then raised
his head.
"I know plenty including the fact that I have oil sliding into-" Phobos
threw a quick look at Hebe.
"Places." he finished simply.

"Will you two stop arguing, Strife go out to the shoulders, stretch outwards
in a fan, fingers splayed. Strife spread his hands, pushed outwards, hands
slipping, then readjusting. Phobos sighed softly into the towels so Strife
peered at him to make sure he wasn't doing anything weird.
"Just use all three motions, you can be firmer if you're careful." Hebe said
quietly. It was all quiet for a while and it was sort of unnerving to have
Hebe watching him.

"Take the arch of your palm down his spine." Hebe said quietly, so quietly
Strife only just heard her, but he added that to his slippery arsenal, which
he was aware sounded more than a little dirty. Phobos was making quiet
little noises and he was debating whether that was a good thing or a bad
thing.

He was concentrating on making fan shapes on Phobos lower back which was
difficult because all the oil had run there. Phobos didn't seem to mind
because he was sighing again.

"Is this it?" He wanted to know if he was doing it right.
"Strife that is exactly it." He grinned at Phobos, then stuck his tongue out
at him. One of Phobos eyes rolled in his direction.
"I saw that."
"Careful Phobos, you may actually be slippery enough to fit i-."
"Don't even think about finishing that sentence!" Hebe warned.

Both of then shut up, then after a pause Phobos peered over his shoulder
again.
"Well you're having way more fun than my brother at any rate." Strife's
hands paused.
"You saw Cupid?" Phobos made a noise which might have meant 'yes' or 'do
that again.'
"And?" Phobos shifted under Strife's hands. Which for some odd reason
started mindlessly moving again.
"And? Don't make me kick it out of you." Phobos scowled at him.
"Do that thing on my shoulder again and I'll tell you." Strife frowned,
prodded.
"Why?"
"Cos it's nice." As if that had been obvious. Strife pulled a face, rolled
his eyes, then went back up to the socket.
"Ok spill." Phobos purred happily.


"Only you two would turn this into a tactical bargaining session." Hebe
grumbled.

3 O'clock: The definition of everything...


Cupid didn't usually have to hide behind any bushes, so his bush hiding
skills weren't really up to much. Mostly he was either invisible or pretty
much cooed over, but today he was flexing his stealth muscles. He was
learning the ancient art of lurking, but to be completely honest, since no
one was there to teach him, he wasn't doing very well.

Four people had discovered him already and he'd had to send them off in the
other direction with a quick wave of his hand, they'd ended up briefly dazed
and bewildered before they were carted off by men in red armour. He had
roughly seven minutes to turn the entire highly ordered camp into a jumble
of confusion and chaos. He didn't even know where to start.

It didn't look good so far, he could see the big tent, he could see some
smaller tents and then a great throng of men either practising, eating or
brawling on the outskirts. It would be a great deal easier if he had his
bow, or as a last resort Graegus, but the dog didn't like him all that much.
He should have looked this up before he left, debated whether he had time to
go and do just that, probably not.

---

"Oh for Zeus sake, tie the tent rope to one of the horses! It's right there,
do it and go!" Strife glared into the mirror, well Cupid's mirror, it was a
little unnerving the way the little cherubs fluttered round the frame.
"Open a fissure under the weapon's tent, Gods Cupid there's like a million
things you could do, why are you just sitting there!" Strife hunched over
even farther, balanced out his wings and swivelled the mirror.
"Oh for the love of...Cupid you're being stalked, how can you not know that!
He's creeping up on you and making more noise than Hestia on roller-skates!"

Strife swivelled the mirror back. He was supposed to be at one of the
temples in twenty minutes, but after what Phobos had told him he'd had to
come and have a look. Then after the first look it was impossible not to
watch. Sending Strife to places with fluffy pink clouds and crying women may
have been faintly twisted, but sending Cupid to a War zone was just wrong!

"Cupid! Turn around you great pink pansy!" The cherubs were flying even
faster.

---

Cupid was considering a tornado, he could make a tornado, a small one
anyway, since Zeus didn't really like having his thunder stolen. He was
fairly sure that would work, but it would also spread the camp over a far
wider area and Demeter was going to be pissed if he uprooted anything. She
liked him though, so maybe he could fix that later.

There was one very good reason why a tornado wouldn't be the answer, a lot
of people would be hurt, in fact he was pretty sure some of them would be
killed. Why was this so difficult, he was sure there were a hundred options
which wouldn't need total devastation.

The horses were mostly ignoring him, though one of them had nuzzled his bush
a little while ago, that was why he'd been discovered the third time. Though
the backside of the closest tent mostly shielded him from view.

Cupid had to admit this was exciting. Hiding, waiting for things to happen,
trying to formulate a plan to whip up some temporary confusion. Working
against the clock, against overwhelming odds! Maybe this was how Xena felt
all the time, well except for being on the other side.

---

Strife watched the guy with the knife sidle round the bush.
"Oh for Zeus sake." He tossed invisibility around himself and vanished. He
reappeared in a lovely position to snatch the guards upraised arm and jerk
it backwards, while the other hand gripped chin and pulled sideways hard,
the guard nodded once onto his own shoulder and then collapsed into the
dirt.

Strife considered the body for a fraction of a second, then carefully
stepped backwards. If he stayed careful Cupid wouldn't even notice he was
here, Though he had to get his arse away before Ares got here, cos he'd pin
him down faster than you could say 'busted'.

He could do quick, he was good at quick, but judging by the throng of wary
soldiers the disappearance of Cupid's stalker had created, he may also have
to do messy.

---

Cupid was running out of time and he knew it. Maybe a little whirlwind, or
some tiny localised ones, a few earthquakes? A fog a big fog, would that
help, did soldiers know how to march in fog?

Cupid had crouched down a little further, until he was almost on his belly.
Ok think fast, you're War's son there must be some sort of tactical genius
in there somewhere, what would Dad do? He had to admit he didn't have a
clue. What would Strife do? Again he came up with nothing. Strife would
probably stand around fidgeting and giggle a lot, then do something loud.

---

Strife yanked the dagger out of sentry number three's severely reduced
throat and then let him fall onto a knee before letting the body slide down
his shin into the undergrowth. It wasn't a great dagger but it was a weapon
and it made up for the partial nudity in a battle situation. He knelt until
he could yank all three tent pegs out of the dirt. Then he knotted them
around the blade and darted forward far enough to slam it into one of the
wagon's sides.

Zeus he had to make this quick because the air crackled and that was pretty
much Ares signature. Strife wove under the wood, came up alongside the
horses and gave a quick painful slap to one mahogany flank. There was a long
high horse noise and the animal tried it's very best to go from a stand into
a full gallop, it came very very close. Then all Tartarus broke loose and
Strife got his arse out of there.

---

Cupid was pretty much in the middle of it when it happened. The horses sort
of squealed and one of the wagons bucked, then lurched forward. The tents
went with them. Cupid blinked, what kind of idiot tied the tents to a wagon?
He didn't have time to think much else, he was too busy rolling out of the
way when white fabric teetered, ripped and crashed to the ground, then
people were running everywhere. Running and shouting and it was a wonder
anyone could make out anything in this much noise.

"Zeus!" He wriggled under one of the remaining wagons, nearly got kicked by
a horse, then figured it may help if he got the hell out of there. He
flashed out, reappeared standing on the hill overlooking the camp, right
next to his father.

Ares didn't say anything for a minute, he was watching, and definitely
grinning.
"I'm impressed." Cupid couldn't help but grin back at that, Dad was
impressed, with him!
"I have no idea what I did, or if I did anything, but thank you." Then he
was laughing and Ares slung an arm round his shoulder, squeezed until
leather squeaked. Cupid could have grinned his face off.

---

Strife glared at his hands, he didn't think Aphrodite or Cupid would be
pleased if he left bloody handprints all over the temple. When you worked up
close with a dagger it was almost impossible to stay clean. He wandered over
to the mirror, glared at himself. He didn't look quite so fluffy now. He
scowled into the glass, mouth turning down. That didn't look right at all.
Especially the fact that one of his formally pristine white wings was now
bisected by a dark line of blood.



4 O'clock: Sexual harassment and more wings than you could shake a stick
at.....

Once Strife had wiped off all the incriminating splashes of red he headed
off to the aviary. Not one of his favourite places but he had an order in
for four doves so he was going to have to make a quick dash, snag the
feathery little buggers, then dash out again.

He wasn't all that happy about it, his temporary nip down to earth had
eroded all the cheerfulness he'd been carefully cultivating. Trying to snag
little flying missiles whilst in a more Strife-like frame of mind was liable
to produce an aviary floor littered with scorched feathers.

He attempted to think of nice things on the way, instead of just flashing
there with a large cattle prod. He got to the double doors in more or less
the same state of mind, though admittedly he realised the cattle prod would
be unnecessary. His last thought, before the doors shut behind him, was that
he should have brought an umbrella.

He'd like to take the person who had the idea of putting lots of birds in
one place and throttle them. For one thing he was pretty much crunching his
way through bird crap, but the sound, oh you could bottle it and sell it to
Hades!

He looked up, which was a bad idea, he wiped his cheek, swore, put a hand
over his face and looked up again. They were everywhere and Strife realised
with a slow sinking feeling that he wasn't entirely sure what a dove looked
like. He was pretty sure they were white but that was about it.

He stepped up to one of the beams, put his foot on it and shimmied up it,
straight into the nest of hell. Once about a thousand birds had flapped him
to death and given him a new hairstyle they mostly settled down. He glared
at all of them, then tried to decide if any of them were doves.

"Tartarus Strife you actually have legs! Does anyone else know about this
small miracle?" Strife wobbled on the beam, then glared over his shoulder.
"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen for myself! You even have
wings, oh I knew Dad could be cruel but this takes the cake." Apollo was
slouching just inside the doors, looking smug, Strife suspected Apollo
always looked smug, his air of self assurance could power a volcano.

"What do you want!" Strife snapped, waving birds aside. Apollo laughed
somewhere in the background and Strife pulled a face. Fed up waiting for him
to answer Strife went up another beam.
"Just get what you came for and piss off, I'm working here, catching birds."
Apollo made a noise.
"No you're stalking them, birds don't generally like to be stalked. Bird
mentality." Strife muttered something Apollo couldn't hear but judging by
the raised eyebrow he got the general gist of it.

"I'm doing fine!" he snapped and glared at his other Uncle who was somehow
managing not to be hit by any bird crap. Zeus forbid any of that got on his
shiny shiny clothes!

He put another foot on one of the beams and reached a hand up. The feathery
blob squawked and then demonstrated exactly what it thought of Strife's
efforts.
"Is there any special reason why you're trying to snag Hestia's white
pheasant?" Strife scowled and with a wave of his hand sent the very startled
bird tumbling through the air. Pheasant? For Zeus sake!

He started shimmying along the beam, wishing the shiny pillock would go
away.
"What exactly are you after Strife?" It was said pleasantly enough but of
all the people to ask what a dove looked like...well Apollo could go fuck
himself. He shuffled along the wood and started reaching for another bird,
smaller and not quite so plump.
"Ah so it's a Cockatiel you're after?" Strife stopped reaching and glared
over his shoulder.
"You want something Pol?" He was still low enough to see the smirk quite
clearly.
"Not especially, what is it you're after?" Strife scowled and started
reaching for another bird.
"Oh a dove? Why didn't you say so!" Strife snarled and yanked the poor bird
over with a hand until he could send it to the cage on the floor. The two
bewildered birds beside it went the same way.

"There's one behind you, it's trying to eat your hair I think." Strife
swivelled reached for the creature, which did indeed have a beakful of black
hair. It made noises at him and hopped back a step. Strife pulled his hand
back and hiked up a little farther. In another few seconds he'd freeze the
little bugger and take him that way, or turn him into something that didn't
peck so much, but Cupid would throw a fit if he mistreated his little winged
things.

He reached a hand out again and Apollo made a noise, oh what was he up to
now. Strife peered down, he wasn't doing anything, just standing down there
looking up at him.
"You could probably get it if you reach a little farther." Apollo said, it
was only the fact that he sounded a little breathless that gave him away.
Strife stopped moving, glared at the wall. Apollo could see right up his
skirt.
"Pol!"
"Uh huh." Strife pointed sharply with a finger.
"Go stand over there." Apollo smirked up at him.
"I mean it, go stand over there or fuck off." Apollo smirked even harder and
wood crunched under Strife's fingers. A second later Apollo sauntered across
the room and leant against the other wall, held his hands out in a gesture
which said 'Here I am, standing over here, completely harmless.'

Strife glared at him and wiggled up for the last dove, which was blinking at
him, trying to decide if he was going to be eaten. Strife carefully ignored
the shiny git down below. Apollo wouldn't have dared yesterday, he didn't
know what Cupid got up to with him, didn't want to. Tartarus would freeze
over and Hades would hold a big ice skating party before Strife took up that
duty. He slid down one of the beams, walked down the tilted main, before he
was back on the floor again.

"Don't you have anything else to do but stalk me?" Strife snapped out,
grabbing the cage he'd produced with a little more force than necessary. The
birds wobbled around inside in a slightly bewildered way. Apollo shrugged,
then grinned.
"Well I didn't think you were really worth the effort...until now." Strife
quietly fumed, then spun and made for the doors. Which blatantly didn't stop
Apollo from following him. He came to a stop, growled.
"I'm busy, fuck off and pester someone else."

Now that, that was definitely a hand on his arse! He stiffened up like a
statue and quietly started to clench his teeth.
"We could find a couch that curves just right, and you could take a break.
Cupid's schedule isn't that hectic after all, I should know." The other hand
lifted and settled where his hand held the cage. One of Strife's teeth
grated, right that did it, time to try something less subtle.

His elbow shot backwards and made a very satisfying 'crunch' when it
connected with Apollo's jawbone. There was a moment of complete silence,
then the gentle thud of cloth and bone hitting the aviary floor. Strife
peered over his shoulder and groaned. He was going to be in so much
trouble.



5 O'clock: Concealing the surprises...


Ares was walking the empty camp with a purpose. He wasn't entirely sure what
that purpose was, but on the whole purposes usually revealed themselves if
you were patient enough. They'd been defeated obviously, and bodies had
never bothered him, so he wandered through them with an intent look on his
face. It was easy enough to see how they died and all of them fit one way or
another. He was looking for someone that didn't.

He stopped walking.

Someone with their neck broken, lying cold among the bushes. Ares went down
on one knee, then looked up, then looked back at the body. He searched the
ground, then very carefully picked up a single white feather half hidden
under a slice of congealing blood. He stared at it for a minute. So Strife
had come and then gone, and his son had never even known, he himself might
never have known. The question was why had he made sure the job was done?
Why had he tried to conceal his presence, then left without a word?

Ares looked a little harder, bushes, ground, dead body-no assassinated body.
Yes, he could see it now, he could see it quite clearly, he wasn't sure
whether he liked it or not though.
"Ares!" Discord's shrill voice cut through his mental train of thought. Very
carefully he closed his hand, incinerated the evidence.

---


Cupid dropped the pile of shields he was carrying, then shook mud off of his
arms. It appeared to want to stick to the leather so he had to wave a hand
and banish it from existence. It occurred to him to wonder how Strife always
looked so clean. He'd never seen his cousin with so much as a blade of grass
in his hair! By rights he should have been walking round like some kind of
bog monster. Cupid doubted he spelled his clothes to repel dirt. That was
the sort of thing Apollo did and Cupid doubted Strife would let them have
anything in common.

That was one good thing about sludging his way through Strife's temple all
day, no Apollo. He wouldn't come here. So there, he'd found a bright spot
after all. He'd thought it was exciting, briefly, that was before metal came
into play. Cupid had never wanted to know how easily it sliced through
horses as well as people. He hadn't stayed any longer and he didn't care
what his father thought.

Apparently Ares knew him slightly better than that, he'd sent a message for
him to find the wagon and bring back whatever had still been in it. Cupid
had been so grateful that he hadn't been called back that he'd collected all
the stuff that had flown off the back as well.

The horses were now munching their way through hay in Artemis stables, and
Ares pretty much wasn't getting them back. Oh and Ares now had fifteen muddy
shields, twelve axe things, a collection of swords and what looked like four
spiky balls on the end of chains heaped in the War room, he left a note,
then went back to his room-Strife's room.

It was as black and confusing as it had been this morning, only now the
torches were burning, so at least it was warm and confusing. The chair
behind the desk was comfortable at least, and the sensation of leaning back
against the leather was still new enough to be slightly euphoric. The way
his shoulder blades fit just perfectly in the material and he could actually
lean his head back and rest it there too. He was even tempted to throw a leg
over one of the arms and see what that felt like, so he did.

Yes, he could see why Dad sat like this. It was very comfortable,
maybe.......

Someone was clearing their throat at him. He wanted to make them stop but
his mouth wouldn't move. Very carefully he opened an eye. He found a naked
chest a few inches from his face, and then a long arm reached over and shook
him. He realised with surprise that he'd slid down in the chair and fallen
asleep.

"I said Ares sent this," Hermes pointed out, who didn't sound happy about
being Ares personal delivery boy. He proffered a crumpled piece of
parchment.
"You're supposed to read it now." Cupid wiggled himself upright.
"What is it?" Hermes scowled then opened the scroll, much to Cupid's
annoyance, before scanning it. He raised an eyebrow, then whistled.
"You know those little things you do everyday but don't write down anywhere
because they're so bloody obvious." Hermes twisted his wrist until Cupid
could see the scroll, it was pretty much full.

Cupid read a few of them, then considered the way his body was slouching
further in the chair and gave a very short groan. Then he realised something
'The little things you do every day but don't write down because they're so
bloody obvious.'

"Shit." He snatched a piece of paper with a giant catapult drawn on it and
reached over his shoulder before realising he didn't have any bloody wings!
He rummaged in a draw, then grabbed part of Hermes skirt when he stood up.
"Don't you dare leave, wait, wait, you have to get this to Strife now!" He
pulled a very bedraggled quill from under his elbow and hurriedly scribbled
while Hermes glared and tapped his foot at him.
"Do you have any idea how busy I am!"
"For Zeus sake Hermes I'll owe you one ok!" The quill scratched frantically,
went through the paper a few times, splodged here and there. Then abruptly
was thrust into Hermes face, much to his annoyance. He did however vanish
and if there was one thing you could rely on it was that Hermes would
deliver a message.

Cupid slumped back in the chair and resisted the urge to tear the message
into a billion pieces. What he should be doing about now and what he really
wanted to do right now, was go sit in one of his temples, have a bath with
so many bubbles he could hide and no one would ever find him, eat
cheesecake, ask one of the muses to give him a massage, answer a few
prayers, bless a few wedding and make sure four out of every five couples
eloped with no problem what so ever. That was his idea of five in the
afternoon.

What he got was a suspiciously comfortable chair that was confusing him
because he kept sinking into it, dirt with a complex about him, the vision
of a horse being horribly murdered running through his head, more work than
bloody Hermes and a divine back that against all laws of nature insisted it
wanted a rest! Oh and he'd run out of liquorice.

He scowled, then heaved himself upright, shoved the quill behind his ear,
grabbed the scroll and disappeared.


6 O'clock: One child, slightly bedraggled...

Strife tapped his foot, then looked up, then consulted the smeared piece of
paper he'd been given again. The three panicked sentences had smacked him in
the face but luckily Persephone had waited. One slightly bedraggled winged
child balanced on her hip.

"Strife, how come you got wings?" He peered down at the paint spotted
creature who'd claimed one of his hands.
"Zeus!" Bliss made an 'aah' noise, obviously the kid was smart enough to
know that when the King of the Gods decided to play, anything could happen
and complaining wasn't going to help thank you very much.

"I'm being Cupid." Bliss wrinkled his nose up.
"Why?" Strife frowned.
"Cos we woke Zeus up." Another 'aah' and Bliss unfolded the artwork that was
clutched in his other hand.
"I did this," he proffered it's slightly splashed surface, Strife took it by
one reasonably clean corner.
"It's Persefney."

It didn't look much like Persephone, it was a mostly pink blob, with a giant
hive of brown paint balanced on top of it. Though the green dress sort of
worked. The smile had been done in red, it had dribbled a little. Bliss was
obviously waiting for something.
"It's good, very green." Bliss smiled and accepted it back, carefully rolled
it up again.
"Harm drew a cow, but then Tantas drew a sword sticking out of the cow and
she cried." Strife smirked, oh someone was going to be in trouble when he
got home.

"Persefney gave her sweets." The way he said it gave the impression Bliss
thought this was unfair. Strife, who'd never got sweets for anything, was
tempted to agree. He tugged Bliss in the general direction of the main halls
and the kid obediently trotted along with him on small feet.

"So, is Dad being you?" Strife nodded. Bliss pulled a face which indicated
he thought this was something which would be brought up to embarrass him
sometime later in life.
"And wearing your clothes and working with grandpa and everything?" Some
jealousy had crept into that sentence.
"Uh huh."
"With swords and stuff?" Strife peered at him out of the corner of his eyes.
"Uh huh." Bliss chewed his lip for a moment while a thought made it's way
round his head and was discarded, a new one took it's place though.

"Bet he looks kinda silly doing all that!" Bliss decided. Strife shrugged
"He's doing alright." Bliss made a disbelieving face at him.
"He is?" Strife shrugged. Bliss didn't seem convinced. He tugged on his hand
until Strife was forced to stop.

"Can I going with you? I've never seen your house." Strife shook his head.
"Nope, I'm dropping you off with Dite. Besides my place has pretty much been
temple-napped by your Dad." Bliss giggled, Strife started to walk again
experimentally, but Bliss stayed still, he was forced to bring his foot
back.
"Are we gonna walk all the way?" Strife blinked, then sighed.
"You wanna be carried? How old are you?" Bliss considered the question.
"Seven...almost seven...six and a half." Strife raised an eyebrow.
"Six and a bit." He finally admitted. Strife went down on one knee, then
frowned, slinging the kid onto his back was impossible. In fact he was a
little worried that picking him up would over-balance him completely.

"I'm not so good with these things, I'll end up on my face if I pick you
up." Bliss giggled.
"S'easy, open em up!" He demonstrated. Sure it looked easy, it was something
else completely when you were trying to do it yourself. There was a creak,
and a rustle of feathers.
"Now lean back." Another demonstration, which made the kid look as if he was
striking a Hercules pose. Strife had no doubt that he'd look silly standing
like that. He did however attempt it, Bliss seemed satisfied.

"Right come here then, and if we end up on the floor no laughing." Bliss
grinned and nodded, raised his arms. Strife fitted his own underneath them
and lifted. Bliss apparently knew how it worked from here. He fitted himself
against Strife's side, one arm curled up over his neck.

Strife took a deep breath and stood up. Bliss giggled and tightened his
legs. Strife swayed, Bliss 'meeped.'
"Crap!" He straightened and Bliss laughed right in his ear.
"Stop wobbling!"
"M'not, you are!" Strife attempted to stop. Then very cautiously put one
foot in front of the other.

---

Dad had obviously sorted the list out first, then crossed off the stuff he
figured was too dangerous for Cupid to even attempt. Most of which he had to
agree with, especially 'reset temple traps' and 'chain Bia.' Some of the
others he didn't get, so he couldn't complain about them. But some of them
sounded easy and had been crossed out anyway. So there was still the whole
'just pat him on the head and send him off' sensation about the whole thing.

He'd been left most of them though, that had to be worth something, mostly
locking things, feeding things and making sure no one had snuck into the
armoury. There was a side note about putting them in the Iron Maiden which
he was pretty sure wouldn't be good for their health. Dad had put a smiley
face after that one but he wasn't entirely sure whether it was a joke or
not.

He hadn't found anyone in there and he'd decided against asking Phonos what
or who an Iron Maiden was. Not unless he wanted to be there for hours while
Phonos grinned at him and went off on some wild tangent about how effective
some of Dad's stuff could be in the right hands, shudder central.

So he'd gone off with his list, stopping in Bacchus temple on the way
studiously only looking at what he absolutely had to, which his enormous red
Uncle had seemed to find immensely funny.

The scroll had become a little battered, it had been briefly set alight,
stepped on by one of the Griffons, pulled out of it's beak a few seconds
later, oh and he'd had to fish it out of the Styx's with one of Strife's
knives. Which he'd promptly lost, so now he was down to three, one of which
still smelled funny.

He shook it and scanned down the list, discovered his next destination was
actually two places. Cupid groaned 'feed the dogs', great wonderful, the
dogs hated him!



7 O'clock: So we meet again...

Cupid strangled out a half-yelp as Cerberus latched onto the leg of his
pants and gnawed him in a way that suggested intrigue more than annoyance.
He had already lost the metal bowl to 'Russ'. The third head which Strife
had so helpfully named. It was now laying in a dented heap somewhere beyond
the rocks.
"Let go Cerberus!" Because hopping around on one leg was difficult at the
best of times, and smacking him on any of his muzzles didn't help.
"Drop! Down! Stop it, for the love of Zeus!!" The three headed dog
eventually got it's teeth free and dropped the God of Love. It took this new
opportunity to snuffle him on the ground, much to Cupid's disgust.

"Tartarus dog, stop that!" He squirmed away and checked his pants, they
weren't even scored, ten points for Strife's magic pants, or would that be
Zeus magic pants? No on second thoughts forget the pants, he didn't want to
get into them at all, no matter who made them!

Cupid hated the underworld, it was dark and miserable and dead people lived
here, he'd planned a short feeding trip, not an extended holiday! He shook
his leg until it felt alive again, and wondered whether Cerberus had any
horrible diseases. Oh not that he could catch them, he'd just rather know
about it.

"Good doggy, nice doggy, yes stay." Cupid stood up again, though he wobbled
slightly. Cerberus resisted the urge to snuzzle him for at least a minute
while he started scanning the rocks for the dish.

"He likes it when Strife pats him on the nose." Cupid risked a glance up,
and saw Deimos hanging from his knees. The god of fear was whistling a
jaunty tune as he swung down and landed beside the dog. Who evidently
recognised him, he wagged his tail and 'woofed.' Then much to Cupid's
annoyance tried to nose Cupid in his direction.
"Awh he just wants to play." 'Yes apparently with me!' Cupid realised he
could, in fact, be more annoyed than he had been when a particularly excited
nosing sent him crunching into the dirt again.

Deimos picked up Cerberus dented dish and shook it, the dog abruptly left
Cupid alone and started running in circles of mass destruction. Deimos
obligingly waved a hand, filling the dish with something brown and
unrecognisable, set it down. Cerberus sniffed this offering, then plunged
one and a half heads into the bowl, started making noises only a camel with
stomach flu could love.
"He's got three heads but only one stomach, they don't usually fight." The
young godling hefted Cupid to his feet and then wiped his hands absently.
Cupid pulled his leather straight again, tried valiantly to sort out the
pants so they weren't cutting off circulation to his legs.

He was tempted to ask Deimos if he'd feed Graegus as well, in fact that was
starting to look like the best idea he'd had all day.
"Deimos?" 'Crap, he'd gone.'

Great so now he had to make his way back up to Olympus and find Graegus. He
didn't have a clue what Dad had bred him from, because dogs just shouldn't
get that big. Most dogs just ran off with your slippers, Graegus had to be
the only dog in existence that could run away with your bed.

He was not looking forward to this, not in the slightest. On the bright side
he got to leave the underworld, which always gave the impression that it was
slowly sucking all the colour out of you until you were left grey and mouldy
looking.

He disappeared, reappeared in Ares temple.

There was no way he was whistling for the dog, the last thing he wanted was
an excitable Graegus to bound through the main doors with his dish clamped
in his teeth. He could be quiet, fill the dish first and take it to wherever
Graegus had settled down with something to chew. It was comforting that he
was learning how to plan after all.

---

Strife wandered through the halls, he wasn't in any particular hurry after
all. He'd picked up Bliss, dropped him off with Dite, almost literally. He'd
been down to his temple again, lit the torches, filled the bowls, made sure
a couple of urchins could turn in on the benches, no matter what certain
priests thought about the matter, oh he almost did something nasty then.

So there was no rush to meet Dite, who probably had something suspicious
planned, she had to have been keeping an eye on him, she wouldn't just sit
back and expect him of all people to do Cupe's job without someone ending up
hurting in several places.

That did remind him though, where had Apollo got to? He'd popped back to
check and there'd been a large smudge on the aviary floor, but no Apollo.
With any luck someone had kidnapped him.

So, ok after Dite he had to see Helios (groan) and Ather (double groan).
Then wander out along the cliffs (huh?) Why would he be wandering cliffs at
sunset? Why on earth would he have to go down to Tartarus afterwards? Ok
that made no sense, what would he need flowers for? The only flowers that
grew in Tartarus were Persephone's night blooming orchids, oh and that
purple vine which spat needles at you. Persephone's attempt to get into the
spirit of things.

He lost his train of thought completely when Graegus galloped past spraying
drool in all directions, wagging tail dislodging most everything that wasn't
nailed down. The most curious thing though, just before the dog skidded
round the corner Strife was certain he saw a small dark figure hanging from
between the cheerful jaws, pounding their fists on the muzzle.

"Help meeeeeee!" The mysterious voice trailed around the corner with the
dog.

Strife blinked, then very carefully peered round the corner. That couldn't
be? Oh you had to be kidding. Strife shoved his fingers in his mouth and
whistled sharply. A few seconds later Graegus came bounding back, skidded to
a halt in front of him, tail thumping the floor.
"Drop!" The hyperactive puppy of War complied.

Cupid hit the marble with a squelch, he groaned, opened his mouth to speak,
then shut it when a thin line of drool wound it's way down from his hair.
Strife waited while Cupid shook his hands, then his head. Then finally wiped
them on the leather at his shins.

He opened his mouth again, and Graegus started licking his hair. Cupid
pulled a face and moaned quietly. Strife shoved the massive head sideways.
"Graegus, home, go on!" The dog whined, suspicious that he'd be missing out
on all the fun, but bounded off.

Strife watched Cupid drip slowly for a minute, then offered him one of the
fabled black handkerchiefs. Cupid peered at it, then grabbed it and started
to wipe dog spit off of his cheek.
"Oh Zeus Strife, am I glad to see you!" Strife's eyebrows hiked, he peered
at the handkerchief in mounting suspicion, maybe there really was something
to those things!


8 O'clock: Conversational skills...


Strife dropped down next to Cupid, being careful not to smack him on the
head with a wing.
"You can't pick his dish up, he thinks you're gonna throw it." Cupid was
attempting to wring out Strife's handkerchief.
"I didn't pick it up, it was on the side and I was filling it. I don't know
how he got into the room, he wasn't there when I looked." The handkerchief
was shook like a flag and then stuck through one of Cupid's belt loops.
"All I did was tell him Ares would be pissed if he tried to chew me like
Cerberus."
"You actually said Ares?" Cupid shrugged.
"Well no I said 'Dad,' the next thing I know he's trying to eat me or
something, and in-between not breathing I'm trying to yell...and since Dad
obviously decided not to let anyone flash out of the dogs mouth-Strife why
are you sniggering?"

He couldn't help it, the mental image was just too much.
"You don't remember do you?" Cupid didn't look too happy about being plucked
from the jaws of death only to be sniggered at.
"That Ares taught him to fetch things, like oh, balls, shields and...well
you!"
"Me?" Strife folded his arms.

"Remember when you decided to climb that statue of Dite and put flowers in
her hair?" Cupid frowned, then his eyebrows suddenly shifted.
"Oh...yes, I think so."
"And you fell in the pond and got all tangled up in the weed and started
wailing." Cupid looked like he was going to scowl but relented.
"Yes."
"And Graegus-"
"Came and fetched me out." Cupid said quietly, Strife grinned.
"Yeah well Ares figured it'd be easier to just have him follow ya around."
Cupid scowled.
"Strife I was five!" The God of Mischief shrugged.
"Hey dogs don't forget stuff like that. He hadn't seen you for damned near
ages and you were always happy to see him before."
"Mostly because I was in some sort of temporary peril at the time." Cupid
grumbled. Strife sniggered, Cupid redirected his glare.

"How do you know about that anyway?" Strife rolled his eyes and scowled.
"I was there you idiot." Cupid didn't look like he believed him.
"No you weren't...where?"
"I came with Ares, I was the scrawny little thing clinging to his belt."
Cupid pulled a face.
"I don't remember you," a vague shrug.
"People don't usually, unless I want them too." He grinned at Cupid until
the frown disappeared.

"Oh I picked up Bliss." Cupid nodded.
"Thank you, I mean Seph would have called Mom but I didn't want him to wait
outside all by himself."
"Nah he was cool, he showed me a picture he did of her...it was good," Cupid
smirked.
"Was it a sort of blob with hair?" Strife nodded.
"Yep that'd be it."
"He always does that, Seph keeps trying to get him to do straight lines but
he loves making things round. He drew me a round house once and then got
upset because he thought it was wrong, he couldn't find any round houses. I
swear Mom nearly built it, just to please him." Strife grinned, now that was
tempting.

"Did you see...?" Strife shook his head.
"Nope, I didn't see her." Cupid nodded and Strife had to wonder if he really
cared or not.
"Well she was supposed to take him today but she forgets." Cupid glared at
something in the distance, it may not have meant anything at all that he was
glaring in the direction of Helios temple. Strife was tempted to break up
that relationship just to see Psyche kicked all the way back down to earth.
Instead he smacked his brain back into the present.

"So you doing ok? Not trashing my place or anything." Cupid absently plucked
at the leather of his pants.
"No, It was pretty much trashed when I got there."
"Oh come on, like your place ain't all the way at the other end,
everything's labelled three times and lined up with a ruler."
"It's not that bad!" Strife raised an eyebrow.
"Ok maybe I'm a little bit obsessive, but it took me forever to find
anything on your desk, and I had to send you that note on the back of the
giant catapult."
"I noticed." Strife wasn't particularly mad, it hadn't been a very good
catapult.

"I think I got confused going through the soldiers, that was after I got
covered in grass, and watching Hercules and there was the whole thing with
the fish. Deimos is very weird and completely unhelpful. Oh and Phonos gave
me this lovely hand chopping thing th-"
"My sword's ready?" Cupid pulled a face.
"Yes Strife your sword is ready." Strife grinned and bounced just a little,
he caught up though.
"Oh and ignore the licking, just pretend it doesn't happen." Cupid shook his
head, muttered something Strife didn't catch.

"Then I got to actually follow Dad onto the battlefield and be useful. I
thought that was going to be exciting, but it turned out to just be horrible
and gross. There's people being killed all around you, and I couldn't have
walked through that if you paid me!" Strife was more used to striding
through it and tossing the occasional casualty aside so he stayed quiet.
"It was nice working with Dad but I couldn't do what he does, it would drive
me absolutely mad." He flicked a glance at Strife, who snorted.
"Hey don't look at me like that, I was mad to start with."

Cupid was looking at him expectantly.
"What, oh me?" Strife shifted.
"Well obviously wings," he gestured.
"Had to work out how to walk and stuff before I started doing anything else.
The only person giving me any tips there was the kid." Cupid raised an
eyebrow.

"So I wandered around and stuff, went down, listened to some crying people.
I think I helped, they all stopped crying anyways." Cupid blinked at him.
"And no one ran away screaming either." Strife growled.
"Well except maybe that one priest, but he was asking for it."
"Do I want to know what he did?" Cupid didn't sound like he did so Strife
shook his head.

"Then I was learning some things, mostly from some dusty old scrolls, since
Calliope kept laughing at me!" Cupid chewed his lip and Strife scowled until
he stopped.
"I mean if I've gotta be you all week then I have to learn practically
everything," Strife paused.
"Though I'm pretty sure I failed the flower arranging. The deadly dragonia
breathed fire at one of the priests and then tried to escape. Hestia had to
wrestle it back into the pot." Which admittedly had been fun, though he'd
lost a lot of marks and Hestia had tutted at him.

"I even got Hebe to teach me how to massage cos you gotta do that tomorrow,
I don't wanna get caught looking like a- what are you staring at?" Cupid
blinked.
"You didn't?"
"Didn't what?"
"Who was your victim?" Strife very briefly thought he meant that seriously
and remembered that the only people he'd killed today had been-
"I mean Hebe wouldn't have volunteered!" He was abruptly in the conversation
again.
"Zeus you're as bad as she is! What the fuck is wrong with me trying
something different huh?" Strife snapped his wings out and juddered to his
feet.
"Forget it! Shit you're all the fucking same!" He took a step and was
surprised when Cupid grabbed the end of a wing and twisted effectively
semi-paralysing the left half of his back.
"Strife! Strife I'm sorry that was a shitty thing to say, I'm sorry." Strife
twisted in his grip, trying to decide whether he was too pissed to accept
the apology.
"I'm sorry Strife sit down and talk to me, come on please?"



9 O'clock: The Night Shift.

Strife pulled a face and dropped back down next to Cupid.
"Don't see why I didn't let you take care of your own shit." Cupid couldn't
do anything but look confused.
"Huh?" Strife folded his hands round his bare shins and shook his head.
"Nothing." Which left Cupid living in the moment of awkward silence.

"Look you're doing better at my stuff than I am at yours." Cupid said
quietly.
"And at least you're trying, it took me an hour and a half to find out what
a morning star was, at least you're just being laughed at cos you look
funny, I'm being laughed at cos I'm rubbish." Strife did look at him then,
briefly.
"You're not rubbish, you can't just throw yourself into my life and expect
everything to work by itself. Sometimes things don't even work properly for
me." Cupid sighed and waved in the general direction of Strife's temple.
"My Dad and Eris are taking up most of the slack, they're dealing with the
stuff that I can't do, or won't do. Dad even crossed a load of stuff off of
the list of ordinary things you do." Strife shook his head.

"The people know me, they know what to expect, they just don't like change."
Strife didn't seem to realise exactly what he did do.
"Bia-"
"Bia would put a knife through your hand if he was happy to see you, he
mostly behaves, and he only ever escapes for fun."
"Mania-"
"Give her something to play with which isn't too sharp and she's happy.
They're not hard Cupe you just have to learn all the rules." Cupid shook his
head, he didn't believe that.
"You make it sound so simple but I'm choking at everything Strife." Strife
pulled a face.

"I've already fried two of your priests and started some kind of strange
cult somewhere in Athens, and I think I screwed up with the bow, even though
I read that whole scroll really carefully." He pulled the bow out of his
waistband and waved it.
"It's not like an ordinary crossbow, I think it listens to you or
something."
"It does." Cupid said quietly and took it in one hand. He turned it, tapped
his thumb on the string, then handed it back with a sigh.

"Oh and your Mom's pissed at me." Strife snorted and waved a hand.
"Mom's pissed at everybody at one point or another. Just don't make the
mistake of ignoring her until you need her, that's one way to well and truly
send your day to Hades. Hey people are pissed at me too." Cupid could
imagine but he didn't say that, he'd never been on the receiving end of a
wing round the head but he was fairly certain it hurt.
"Who?" Strife shrugged.
"Probably Apollo," Cupid groaned and couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

"My own personal stalker, he's so annoying, you turn around and he's always
there somewhere, flexing at you." Cupid pulled a face.
"I thought Narcissus was bad when I was a kid. Always hanging around wanting
to know how lovely he was."
"Yep Narc was definitely creepy."
"But at least you could get rid of him." Cupid offered with a wave.
"You just had to.-"
"Give him a mirror," Strife finished and they both grinned at each other for
a minute.

"So how'd you get rid of Pol?" Strife smirked but didn't say anything. This
was possibly not a good sign.
"Strife?" Strife looked like he wanted to fiddle with one of his sandals. It
was very close to the look Bliss had given him when he'd come in all covered
in mud, after the obligatory 'what did you do?'

"I may have hit him a little bit." Strife finally admitted. Cupid considered
this sentence and realised it probably wasn't the actual truth. Since he'd
heard 'I may have killed him a bit' from more than one person on Dad's side
of the family. It was a safe bet that Strife had probably hit him a lot, or
something worse. Taking all of Strife's knives away didn't make him safe by
any means.

If Cupid hadn't been Love he would have hit Apollo a little bit too, in fact
he probably would have hit him a lot, then perhaps kicked him when he was on
the ground so he didn't get up again. Oh and that thought made him blink
frantically, where the hell had that come from!

"I think your clothes are having a bad influence on me," he offered at last.
Strife snorted and twanged one of the straps that crossed his chest.
"At least you have some clothes, do you know how many bondage scarecrow
jokes I've put up with today?" Cupid had to grin, even if Strife was looking
put upon.
"Not to mention Gods I've barely met twice trying to feel me up. Like the
creepy one that floats, the one with the hair that looks like candyfloss."
"Aether." Cupid supplied.
"And try having him float after you making bad jokes about chickens. I can't
even out-fly him, that's his territory."

Cupid sighed into one leather-clad elbow, then swore, there was one duty he
wasn't so sorry about missing, a job that he hated to put on anyone else. A
job he'd taken from his Mom not because it would eventually be his but
because he loved her. He prodded Strife to his feet.
"You have to go!"
"I do?" Cupid nodded and tried not to look as if his stomach was trying to
shrivel up.
"Yes, walk the cliffs, you'll know them when you see them."
"Them?" Cupid ran a hand through untidy hair.
"Stop them if you can but if you can't take them some flowers, they always
regret it, always!"
"Cupid?"
"I'll talk to you later." He almost hugged him on instinct but remembered,
before his arms worked out what they were going to do, that Strife probably
wouldn't like it.

"Umm yeah, you have to get back to Phonos, he'll want tomorrow's list."
Strife pointed out, he seemed to think he was being prodded in the direction
of away. Cupid did feel bad about that, but they had things to do, they
always had things to do. He'd see Strife later, maybe, if he had a minute,
he hoped he would anyway. He was going to say as much, but Strife had
already gone.

---

All the damn cliffs looked the same, what was he looking for anyway? A
temple, a party, a bunch of people in a coach about to go sailing over the
edge to smash to pieces on the rocks below. Someone could have given him a
damn hint! He wandered a little further, since he was actually here, in the
flesh, the wind was blowing him every which way. He was trying to keep his
wings against his back so he didn't become some sort of divine kite.

A little help here, cliff, more cliff, some sky, the odd tree, tiny human
figure....

Ah, he wandered a little closer, ok. Was this one of the 'them?' It wasn't
until he got within twenty feet that he stopped abruptly. The tiny figure in
white, when close, became a woman, sitting on the edge of the cliffs, eyes
closed, head raised into the wind, clothes sailing around.

When the last big gust died the figure very slowly rose to her feet.

Strife got it now.

10 O'clock: Down...

"Someone said they send one of you?" The woman said, she was talking into
the wind but Strife could hear her perfectly well. Ok first priority get the
mortal away from the biggest drop for fifty miles.
"Yeah, one of us, you surprised?" A vague shrug of thin shoulders.
"You wanna step back off the edge?" She looked over her shoulder then.
"Why? Are you afraid of heights?"
"Cute." Strife snapped and shuffled over to the edge.
"Fine I'll come over here." The woman obligingly made room with a thin
smile.
"It is a wonderful view."
"Surprisingly enough it's much better from up here." The woman made a noise
which didn't commit her to anything.

Strife was confused, there should have been crying surely, anger or
something? How could you decide to toss yourself off of a cliff and not feel
anything? This definitely merited a poke around in her head. Oh well there
was a sense of sadness, not for her but for her father, she was worried he'd
be alone without her. Other than that there was just a sense of things to
do, then nothing.

"So have you got a name?"
"I thought Gods knew everything?" Strife made a noise.
"They do! So you gonna tell me?" The woman chewed her lip thoughtfully.
"I always liked Penelope." She offered another odd smile.
"Heroic with just a touch of vulnerability." She screwed up her face for an
instant.
"And what's your name? I mean I recognise the wings but they don't belong on
you surely...unless the man that makes the statues is very generous." Strife
scowled at her briefly. Another remark like that and he'd push her off the
damn cliff.
"That was cold." Penelope shrugged as if it didn't matter.
"So what is your name?"
"Strife." Penelope made the first noise that belonged on someone alive.
"Oh my, well the wings are a nice touch, but that outfit really isn't you."

"I'm not here to talk about me." Strife pointed out.
"Of course, though I'm not exactly sure why you are here now. I thought you
were...but you're obviously not."
"Maybe I am?" Penelope made a little snorty noise.
"I've never done anything mischievous in my life, I don't think I'm one of
yours."
"It's not that simple." Penelope 'hmmed'
"No oddly enough it never is, is it?" Strife glared at the back of her head.

"Are you going to come away from the edge yet?"
"I don't have to, it won't affect your life if you just leave me here and go
back to wherever you came from, Olympus, Tartarus, I'm afraid I'm not all
that up on the minor gods."
"I'm gonna push you in a minute." Strife threatened, then realised how
twisted that sounded. Penelope laughed quietly.
"Oh I can assure you I don't need a push."

"Well you need something." He growled at her. She twisted round until she
could face him.
"What do I ne-"

---

"Hestia's kitchen door swung open and she retrieved her spoon from an
enormous saucepan.
"Strife, I don't suppose you've come to have some soup, no of course not,
you're always too busy for soup." Strife shoved the door shut with a foot
and let a significant weight slid forward from his shoulder. Hestia looked
startled.

"Oh, and what have you brought me?" Strife laid the unconscious Penelope on
the table.
"Her names Leanne, but she likes Penelope." Hestia rearranged the mortals
skirts and carefully tilted her head to one side.
"And why does she have a bump on her head, hmm?"
"Aggressive persuasion?" Hestia tutted at him.

"You young one's, this is no way to get a lady you know, didn't you think to
ask?" Strife pulled a face and shook his head.
"Hestia that has nothing to do with it." He snapped and waved at the
unconscious woman.
"I need you to fix her so she doesn't try and jump off any more cliffs."
Hestia blinked and very carefully set her spoon down.

"Strife you make that sound so simple." Strife glared and sat on one of the
stools.
"It is simple, fix her, you're the family lady, you make everybody happy."
He poked the unresponsive mortal. Hestia shifted into another stool and
sighed loudly.
"People kill themselves all the time, they do it for glory and honour,
occasionally to get their family out of debt, some of them are ready but
they don't want to go." Strife gestured at the figure on the table.
"She's like an empty thing, you have to fill her up with something." Hestia
was quiet for a long time, then she sighed again and rose to her feet.

"Well soup is always a good start, wake her up and we'll see what we can
do."

---

The door was opened by Mania, which was surprising, since it suggested she
was paying attention to everyone else's version of reality instead of her
own.
"Hello, Phonos is gone, he'll be back later." This seemed like an often
rehearsed line, probably with visual aids. Cupid gestured with his scroll.
"Can I come in, I have something for him." Mania blinked, then carefully
opened the door. Cupid had remembered, and planned for this eventuality.

"I er, I brought you something." Mania surprised him by grinning and pushing
the door shut behind him.
"You did? Show me, show me!" Cupid pulled the little wooden horse out of his
belt. She took it in spidery fingers then to his utter astonishment hugged
him hard.
"Thank you pretty." Cupid blinked when she let go.
"Umm the legs move." He offered, but Mania was already on the floor in a
riot of purple skirts.

Thankfully, or not, Phonos had crept in behind him. the only reason he knew
this was because a long hand reached over and took the scroll from lax
fingers.

"Er that's your list of people to kill." He wasn't even going to try the
blank face, he could be disgusted if he wanted to. One of Phonos eyebrows
canted then dipped as he moved round Cupid, petted Mania and then sat at his
desk.

"I'll take care of this as soon as I find Apollo."

Mania giggled.

"He has a nasty habit of changing his mind, you can't be fickle if you want
people murdered." Cupid ignored that sentence, but he did briefly wonder
where Apollo had got to after Strife had hit him.

"With the birds, hidey hiding, shiny circles, painting." Mania giggled again
and Cupid slid his eyes to where she was cheerfully galloping the horse
along her leg. She giggled again. Phonos was apparently more fluent in
lunatic than he was.

"Mania please tell me you know where Apollo is." Mania squealed, which was
evidently a yes. Phonos placed finger and thumb at the bridge of his nose
and pressed hard.
"What did you do to him?"

Mania grinned.



11 O'clock: Do I get references?


Aphrodite kept looking at him. Ok that seemed fair enough considering she
was running through everything he'd done. Anything he'd screwed up she
wanted to fix now and not leave until tomorrow. Every so often she'd make a
surprised noise and shuffle the bits of paper around some more.

"I've been sent scrolls about you all morning." She said quietly, not
lifting her eyes. Strife shifted on the couch, that wasn't good. If people
were complaining to Aphrodite then he was in big trouble. Not to mention
Cupid would flip when he found out Strife had sent the House of Love into a
rapid nose dive.

More paper rustled and Aphrodite raised her eyes far enough to peer at him,
he shifted around some more.
"Some of them were understandably confused and just a little worried about
Zeus' motives in letting you run around dressed like that." Strife managed
not to hunch into the couch, but one of his feet did seem to be fidgeting.

"But most of them were impressed." His foot stopped tapping and dug through
the carpet.
"Huh?" Aphrodite ignored his gaping stupidity and went on.

"I have a surprisingly sweet note here from Hebe." She lifted one out of her
pile and waved it. One corner of Dite's mouth slid upwards.
"She seems to think you have potential." Strife's face went through a
variety of interesting expressions before settling on bemused.

"Hestia has sent me two, one of which tells me to make sure you go and visit
her." Aphrodite turned the scroll over.
"Something about a Penelope too, apparently you know her new priestess." The
paper was turned over and laid against one of his knees.
"She's signed it, and put kisses after her name." Strife stared down at the
parchment and blinked in surprise.
"It appears you've been adopted Strife." Dite snatched the paper back before
he could read any more.

"And Aether..." Aphrodite considered a second piece of paper and cleared her
throat before sliding it back into the pile.
"Well he seems to like you." Strife wrinkled his nose.
"Oh don't pull faces, he just gets a little over exhuberant when he likes
someone." Strife made a snorty noise which Aphrodite ignored.

"The only thing which you had a problem with, was the bow?" Strife shuffled
forward a little.
"What, I thought I got that right, I decoded the squiggles and everything."
"Strife I know you tried hard, that came across at least." Aphrodite pulled
a face, then shifted on the couch.
"But on the whole you got it wrong-no not your aim, just your selections."
She set aside the scrolls.
"Unfortunately people seem happy just as they are." She rubbed her eyes.
"Even that poor boy reading poetry to the tree."
"Huh?" Strife offered, because as far as he knew there hadn't been any trees
on that list anywhere, did they count? Surely not.

"I tried to fix it but that barmaid growled at me, and the bearded lady
looked so miserable. She didn't need any arrows to fall in love with Lyas
because, well he's adorable!" Aphrodite let the stack of papers slide onto
the couch and sighed.
"So now I don't have the heart to fix any of it!"

Strife agreed, mostly because he didn't like to think of his stuff in need
of fixing.

Dite swayed to a stand and shook her head.
"You did your best, I'd give you a zillion points for that alone, even if
you do need prodding occasionally about which is the right direction to go."
She brushed her skirts down.
"And Bliss seemed to think the both of you knocking Artemis flying in the
corridor was highly amusing."
"I didn't do that on purpose."
"I'm sure you didn't, you should have seen Cupid when he was little, he
couldn't stay straight for five minutes. Well since you're almost finished
for the night I'll let you get on with it. Who knows maybe I'll see you
later." She shrugged, Strife stood up as well, if only to prove that he'd
stopped swaying and flapping five hours ago.

"If not I'll see you tomorrow, perhaps?" Strife shrugged. It all depended on
if Zeus decided they could have their own clothes back. He flashed out
before he could think about that too much.

---

It was official, being nice was definitely exhausting. It involved patience
because you couldn't hit people, and smiling, so people didn't think you
were going to hit them. Bliss had helped with the smiling, apparently it
made people feel better. Which was odd because when Ares and Discord
occasionally smiled at him he didn't feel better at all.

Dite seemed happy though, and that was surprising. She was almost never
happy, unless everything worked out perfectly with all the loose ends neatly
tied up in a bow. He must have done pretty well since she'd just let him go
without dragging him around by his ear or sending him off to do something
gross.

Cupid's temple was still as cheery as it had been this morning, though
someone or something had come and lit all the torches, turning the pink into
a deeper even more offensive shade. He unhooked the bow and tossed it, until
it clattered onto the table, then sprawled awkwardly on the funny shaped
couch.

He missed sitting down, he missed his shoulder blades, he missed...he was
sprawled on something. He reached behind him and felt around a bit, pulled
out a thick piece of parchment in a garish shade of red. The writing was
silver and it swirled hypnotically. There were little naked people dancing
round the border. When the writing finally stayed still long enough for him
to read his eyes went wide.

When he finally moved it was to fling the piece of card across the room and
burrow a little deeper into the couch. He seriously debated spending the
next couple of hours hiding in a cupboard.



12 O'clock: Welcome to the Dollhouse....

Stepping into Mania's temple was a very unnerving experience for Cupid. It
wasn't that it was horrible. There weren't any corpses, there was no blood,
no stomach churning artwork or revolving torture devices. No the thing that
made it disturbing was the walls, which seemed to be melting, and the floor,
which wouldn't stay still. It was like visualising nausea. Or being inside a
wave.

"Oh," he wobbled and tried to put his hand on the wall, which wasn't there
anymore. Phonos prodded him straight.
"It helps if you close one eye, and don't ask." Cupid obediently shut one
eye. That did sort of help, now it just looked as if the whole temple was
sliding left. He still had to adjust occasionally though, every time the
piece of floor he was standing on decided to be somewhere else.

Mania skipped happily through her readjusting temple and disappeared through
a set of doors which seemed confused as to what size they were supposed to
be. When Phonos and Cupid reached them they were two foot tall and six foot
across. Cupid didn't think he could live somewhere where you couldn't trust
the furniture.

Phonos seemed to be used to it, unsurprisingly since Mania was his...sister?
He really should know that, they were family after all.

Mania was already skipping round the shelves when they got inside, her
clothes had changed colour too, she was now a swirl of green and orange.
Cupid ducked underneath the wind chimes hanging above him. It took him a
second to realise it was made entirely of tiny insects dipped in metal. It
looked creepy but the sound it made should have belonged in Pol's temple.

"Mania? You were going to show us where Apollo is?" Phonos said softly.

The Goddess of Insanity grinned and stood on tip toe until she could reach a
box on one of the higher shelves, she brought it down and hugged it against
her chest. Cupid really didn't like the looks of this. Sure Apollo could be
a dick but there was no way he could have fit in that box.

He heard a sigh and glanced over, Phonos was pressing the bridge of his nose
again. He was apparently having the same thought.
"Mania please tell me he's not in there? Must I get a lecture from Zeus
again about the appropriate ways to treat other gods." Mania grinned and
bounced on her toes before opening the top of the box and shyly offering
it's contents for display.

Cupid and Phonos very slowly leant forward.

There was something in the box, crammed in one corner, it was a doll. It was
made of some odd kind of material that looked shiny, and it did indeed have
blonde hair, little painted button eyes and a rather bewildered expression
on it's face.

"Er."
"Oh Mania for the love of Zeus!" Phonos scowled at the doll. Mania dropped
the box and gestured happily with the doll, before bending the legs until it
could sit in her hand. It looked painful but since it was a doll Cupid
couldn't really judge. It was without a doubt one of the creepiest things
he'd ever seen, and that counted everything he'd seen today.

It did look a lot like Apollo but somehow he couldn't be convinced. It
wasn't wearing the right clothes. It was wearing a little purple robe and
red boots.

"You're going to have to give him to me Mania." Phonos said quietly. She
didn't look cross, she must have been expecting it. Her lower lip stuck out
briefly and she rested her chin on it's head.
"Is that really Apollo?" Cupid needed some confirmation here before he could
take the situation seriously. Mania grinned at him, but Phonos simply sent
him an annoyed glance and held his hand out.

Mania's face contorted briefly and she turned back to the shelf, lifted
something out of another box and started to remove the dolls boots, then the
little robe, before sitting the now naked doll on the shelf and lifting a
small piece of gold cloth. Within seconds the doll was wrestled into the
material.

Creepily enough, the doll now definitely looked like Apollo.
"You can fix him right?" Phonos glared at him.
"Do I look like the God of Dolls to you?" Cupid paused.
"Well I mean, we can fix him right?" Another glare.
"Do you know how?" Mania was now on the floor, lifting pieces of furniture.

"No boots!" She complained and peered into a pair of her own shoes.
"Forget the boots, we'll take him as he is." Mania scowled and continued
hunting.
"So what happens to him?" Cupid eyed the doll, he had the sneaking suspicion
it was eyeing him back.
"Can't Mania fix him?" Phonos was quiet for a minute.
"More often than not, she forgets how. Take him to Hecate, she usually knows
what to do." Cupid looked away from the doll.

"What do you mean 'take him to Hecate' you expect me to fix this?"
"Of course, you are still Strife aren't you?"

Mania made a squeaky noise and took her clenched hand back to the shelf,
started putting gold boots on the doll.

"I'm not sure I can touch him, it's creeping me out just looking at him!"
Phonos didn't look impressed.
"So put him in a bag, I don't care, it's not my problem." He stepped back
and Cupid swivelled, promptly had the doll gestured in his face. He swayed
backwards.

"Oh Zeus!" Mania grinned and waggled the doll. The little arms flopped, the
bead eyes swirled and the hair swished under his nose. That definitely
wasn't helping. He lifted a hand and Mania pushed the doll forward. His
fingers closed round the middle, it was squishy, he almost dropped it. Mania
leant forward far enough to give it a kiss on the top of it's fluffy blonde
head, and skipped away.

"Ok this is now officially the creepiest thing I've ever done." Phonos
waved at the temple doors and strode off. Cupid followed him, the doll
jiggled between his fingers. The little button eyes stared at him
accusingly. It was enough to give a god nightmares.

He spent the trip back to the corridor watching the melting walls, mostly so
he didn't have to look at the doll. He'd learned, to his faint horror, that
it squeaked if you squeezed it too hard.



1 O'clock: We're off to see the Wizard....


"Strife!"

Strife lifted his head out of the couch and peered at it from a few inches
away. 'Why was someone yelling at him?' He carefully twisted his head until
it found a blurry black length of thigh. Gods that could have been anyone,
he twisted a little farther and found a wonky Cupid. Wow, he had come back
to see him, that was surprising. On the other hand maybe he just wanted
something. Either way not a good look for him sprawled mostly in the couch
like this.

"Why are you burrowed into my couch?" Strife blinked until he could consider
that question.
"M'resting." Which was mostly true, probably drooling as well but he wasn't
going to admit that.
"Uh huh." Cupid prodded part of his anatomy, he couldn't be bothered
deciding which part.

"I need your help." Yup, he wanted something, see no one ever came to see
him because they felt like it, that would just be stupid and pointless and
wrong. At least he could guilt trip something out of him, and he knew
exactly what.
"Whatever." He offered, mostly into an expensive pink cushion.

"What?" Cupid hauled him off the couch and mostly straight, Strife fought
the urge to yawn.
"I said ok," Cupid looked suspicious, he'd obviously expected a great deal
of wheedling and begging. Strife could actually see his brain attempting to
think like him. It wasn't pretty but it was amusing at least.
"And then I'll owe you right, there's something you don't wanna do?" Strife
shrugged, managed to look like he was in a world of not caring. If he stood
there long enough and looked harmless Cupid would get to the point. He
wasn't predictable he just followed the rules of 'being nice.'

"Here!" Cupid waved something. Strife frowned. It was a doll, not a very
well made one, it looked a little windswept as well. Strife took the freaky
looking thing and waggled it so the arms flopped around, slapping the little
chest, occasionally getting stuck over the head.
"Yeah, so why exactly am I holding this?" Cupid folded his arms and scowled
at the thing.
"It's Apollo." Strife made a noise and dropped it.

It hit the ground with a sharp clatter, lay spread-eagled eyeing them both.

"For the love of Zeus Cupe, you could have told me that before I picked it
up!" Strife glared daggers at the doll, but surprisingly Cupid went down on
one knee and carefully picked it up by an arm. He didn't look happy about it
though.

"I didn't know you were gonna drop him!" Strife made wide eyes at him.
"Give him back and I'll drop him again if you like." Cupid kept hold of the
little arm, leaving it dangling from his hand like a tiny naughty child.
"Strife be serious, Apollo is a doll, get it, a doll!" Strife nodded and
sniggered.

"Right, now Mania-Strife will you stop laughing please, thank you. Mania
changed him into a doll and Phonos says I have to take him to Hecate so she
can fix him."
"We wanna fix him?" Cupid didn't look as if he took that seriously, he
should know him better than that by now.
"Yes, and you're coming with me to Hecate's temple." Strife blinked and
looked sideways out of the window. Oh wasn't that a pretty moon, he shook
his head.
"Uh uh, bad timing Cupe, leave it til tomorrow, or the day after, next week
even." Cupid threaded an arm through
"No I have to do it now and I have to make sure he gets there, safely."
Cupid waved a hand at him and the doll did somersaults. Strife snorted
laughter.
"Oh for..." Cupid set the doll down on the back of the couch, then flopped
down in front of it.

"Come on Strife, come with me please?" Strife eyed him carefully.
"Have you ever met Hecate when she's having a bad day?" Cupid shrugged.
"I've seen her." Strife wasn't convinced.
"From a long way away right?" Cupid shrugged again, Strife figured that
meant from a really long way away, and possibly from behind Ares.

"I gotta look as if I tried Strife, at least. If someone asks why I didn't I
don't wanna be stuck saying 'I was too afraid of Auntie Hec.'" Strife made a
noise.
"Cupe older gods than you have made that excuse. If you go there and she's
pissed off, then you and Pol are gonna be sharing a shelf."

Now Cupid was doing his 'torn' look, complete with pouty mouth and uncertain
eyebrows. Strife glared at him. Cupid made sighing noises. Bastard,
complete, utter, total bastard!

Strife growled and angrily threaded an arm through Cupid's, hauled him up
off the couch. He didn't even look surprised.
"Oh come on, but if you get me killed I'll come back and bloody haunt you!"
He tugged him in the direction of the doors.
"We'll knock ok, and if we hear loud crashing noises from inside we run like
hell." Cupid raised an eyebrow mid-tug.
"That's brave?"
"It's the smartest way to keep all your arms and legs, and not spend a week
croaking and hopping around after flies.

They flashed out. A minute later Strife came back and picked Apollo up by
his fluffy little head, scowled at him and vanished.

---

Twenty five minutes later Cupid was back in his own room, sprawled face down
on the bed, groaning.

"I told you not to eat the cookies! How complicated is that! I told you
specifically 'Cupid don't eat the cookies.'" Cupid groaned again.
"You're impossible, do you know that?" Strife stepped back long enough to
toss Apollo, still small, beady eyed and floppy, onto the couch. He promptly
fell sideways and looked as if he was defending himself against one of the
giant pink cushions.

"You're incredible you really are, did you not see her grinning at you!"
Cupid made a very small noise from the bed. Strife stomped back over, fully
in the mood to rant at him for the next hour.

"Don't come running to me if you turn blue and grow horns. Maybe sprout some
tentacles out of your ears." Strife sat down on the bed, hard. It creaked
and he bounced slightly. Cupid made a low noise in his throat and shut his
eyes. He looked terrible, he'd gone pale and sick looking like he'd spent
too long in Tartarus.
"Don't feel well." Cupid mumbled quietly.

Strife sighed and glared at the back of Cupid's head.
"Do you want me to call Asclepius?" Cupid shifted a little.
"His father's a doll." He offered in a thick voice, then disappeared into
the pillows again.
"We didn't do it." Cupid didn't answer, he did groan some more though.



2 O'clock: A different Perspective...

"Cupid are you sure you don't want me to call Ace?" Cupid rolled his head
from where it was resting against the wall. The horrible 'someone's tearing
out my liver' sensation had eased off, which was something.

"I feel better." Well apart from the swaying, he probably shouldn't be
swaying. Strife shifted close enough to grip his hand and raise it in front
of his face.
"What colour is your hand?" Cupid focused on his hand, which oddly, was also
swaying.
"Silver." Cupid had to admit, which ok wasn't good, but it didn't hurt.
Strife pulled a face at him from not very far away at all.

"Do you have any idea what your Dad will do to me if he comes round tomorrow
and finds you hissing and slithering around your temple?" Cupid thought
about it, he hadn't really thought that far ahead.
"He'd probably be mad." Strife eyed him.
"And?" Cupid wiggled his fingers.
"He'd stomp around some."
"And?" Cupid stopped looking at his fingers and looked at Strife instead.
"He'd throw me through the nearest wall." Strife pointed out, Cupid rolled
his eyes, then scowled
"Why does he do that?" A shrug, which ok, not quite so menacing with bare
shoulders. Strife didn't seem inclined to answer that.

"I ate the cookie, you told me not to." Another shrug, great Strife was
giving him the mysterious shoulder.
"You told me not to eat the cookie." He offered again.
"You think that would help. He's your father, he'd expect me to have stopped
you. Even if it came down to upending the tray and dragging you out by a
win-arm, leg, whatever." Cupid scowled he was very rapidly losing his temper
and everyone was still obsessed with taking care of him.

"So what? You're supposed to take responsibility for my stupidity is that
it? It's that again isn't it. I can't take care of myself and everyone feels
so responsible for my welfare. Look at Cupid he can't even tie his own
shoelaces, we better help him with that as well." Strife grumbled something
and slumped into one of the pillows.

"Cupe," he offered in a careful, if slightly muffled voice.
"We don't think you're an idiot, you just didn't grow up in the house of
War. We can't just hand you a sword, tell you the pointy bit goes in the
other guy and then send you off to battle." Cupid ground his teeth, it
wasn't the words so much as that calm voice that Strife had adopted. The one
you used to talk to small children.

Cupid glared at the back of Strife's head.
"That's an exaggeration and you know it. My own father thinks I'm pathetic,
and this morning on the battlefield...well you must have thought I was
useless because I know for a fact that you showed up." Cupid watched Strife
slowly shift out of the pillow and peer at him. He wanted to see his face,
and he really wanted him to dispute it.

"How did you know that?" Cupid glared at him, resisted the urge to shove his
head back down, hard.
"I didn't, I was guessing." Strife groaned and reburied himself.
"But that pretty much clinches it doesn't it. You don't even trust me to sit
in a battlefield without a babysitter."
"The guy was going to kill you." Strife pointed out, still from mostly
inside the pillow.
"Hello...God!"
"He was going to try and kill you, it would have ruined your whole day."
Cupid shifted and leant back until the headboard thudded.
"I was ruining the entire day all on my own, a little help wouldn't have
made much difference. You could have given me the choice."

Strife made annoyed noises and held a hand out.
"Give me one of my knives, I'll cut your throat and then you can know what
you missed and be a martyr." Cupid slapped his hand to one side.
"I can't, I lost them all, well apart from the one that smells like the back
end of a cow. See I can't even do that right!"

"I'll find them tomorrow." Though Strife didn't sound happy about it.
"How do you know this is all going to be over tomorrow? What if Zeus decides
this is all just too amusing and has us stay like this for a week, or a
month, or a century."
"You're getting hysterical." Strife said flatly. Cupid fought the urge to
smother him. Strife must have felt some of that at least, because he shifted
out of the pillow and glared at him. Now that was a good glare, it froze the
nasty comment he'd been about to make somewhere at the back of his throat.

"It's called people giving a shit what happens to you. It's in your daily
repertoire under 'G' for 'Giving a shit!' Your Dad doesn't hate you, he's
not disappointed, he just doesn't get you, there's a difference!" Strife
swivelled until he could fold his legs and Cupid could actually see him
trying not to snap again, it would have been funny if he didn't want to know
what was coming next so badly. So his job had rubbed off on Strife just a
little after all.

"Zeus just be satisfied that you're so good at your own job, don't have a
spasm because you suck at someone else's." It was true, and pointed and
Cupid could almost hear the air escaping as he deflated.

"You're getting all riled up over nothing, so today sucked, take whatever
you did learn and be happy with that. Everyone else will be happy you didn't
get your neck broken trying some fool stunt." Cupid sighed, he wasn't angry
enough not to realise this was where he made the apology.

"Ssssstrife." He clapped one silver hand over his mouth and made panicked
eyes at Strife, who had one eyebrow raised.
"Did you just hiss at me?" Cupid nodded frantically. Strife's mouth twitched
just a little and Cupid wrapped a hand around his shoulder and shook him
pointedly.

He didn't really want to get that up close and personal with the animal
kingdom. Why was this happening to him? He hadn't done anything bad, nothing
to deserve scales anyway. He shook Strife again. Then because he didn't know
what else to do, slumped against his shoulder.

"Would you like me to call Ace now?" Strife asked quietly, Cupid nodded.

---

Asclepius appeared a few minutes later, looking wide awake. Cupid suspected
he didn't sleep, or maybe he took vacations to sleep or something like that.
He certainly didn't yawn at them or grumble. He just walked forward and sat
on the bed, before peering into Cupid's face. He dreaded to think what he
looked like.

"Just the one cookie was it?" Strife nodded. Asclepius made a noise and
tilted Cupid's head back and forth, opened his mouth.
"Yes I see, Hecate always did have a thing for snakes, you should take it as
a compliment really." Cupid scowled.
"Well yes I can see how it wouldn't seem so. It would have worn off of
course but I don't think you want to go through the transformation do you
hmm." Asclepius didn't wait for an answer. He took something out of his bag
and shook it. It was purple and it fizzed.

"Drink this and you shouldn't get much farther, then it'll regress slowly.
She shouldn't have changed the potion. She was in a good mood so there won't
be any nasty side effects." Strife took the bottle, since Cupid was still
staring at his silver hands.
"Thanks Ace." The God of Healing nodded.
"Quite alright, try to keep him warm and umm, well no strenuous exercise."
Cupid flicked a glance at Strife and then gave an awkward hissing chuckle.
Strife glared at him, but Cupid would have sworn he went very slightly red.

"We're not...we're not." He offered, Asclepius peered at them both and
shrugged.
"I believe you have my father as well." Strife cleared his throat and got
off the bed and leant over the couch. Picked up Apollo by his little gold
tunic.
"Yeah, umm here." Cupid had to admit he looked funny proffering the doll
almost ceremoniously. Asclepius took it.
"Well I hope you're proud of yourself." He muttered and very carefully put
his father in his bag. Cupid shot Strife a look, Strife returned it.

"He can hear stuff?" Asclepius raised an eyebrow.
"Oh yes, he's quite conscious, he just can't do anything about it."



3 O'clock: The Other Fight...

As soon as Ace had gone Cupid threw a pillow at Strife. He scowled and let
it bounce off of his head.
"What?" Cupid scowled, but apparently couldn't convey what he wanted to say
with this alone.
"He wasssss awakkke, idiot!" Strife sniggered, he couldn't help it. The God
of Love was hissing at him.
"Thhhhe whole time, he sssssaw everythhhh-ing."

"Nothing horribly incriminating, besides he was a doll at the time, it'll
never stand up in-." Strife noticed something truly bizarre, he leant
sideways until he could grin into Cupid's face.
"Holy shit, have you seen your tongue? Open your mouth." Cupid shoved him
with an elbow and shut his mouth pointedly.
"No really, that's actually pretty cool." Strife didn't get a second chance
because Cupid swivelled and pulled the covers over his head.

Not surprisingly Cupid obviously didn't think it was cool. Strife sighed, oh
great, if he was going to be like that then screw him. He could spend the
rest of the night...well morning, moping to himself and slowly turning into
a snake, see if he cared. He wasn't a nurse, let the miserable sod take care
of himself.

He sighed again and glared at the bottle that Ace had left. He'd get him to
take that first. He'd probably forget and they'd have to find him a big arse
glass tank for tomorrow, complete with heater and sand. He scowled at the
shape under the sheets.

Strife rolled his eyes and picked up Asclepius purple fizzing stuff, then
shook Cupid by the shoulder.
"Come on Cupe, drink your fizzy purple stuff." No answer from the shape
hiding under the covers. Then a pause, and a sufficiently mangled swearword
that suggested nasty things about his mother.
"Unflattering but true, come on drink the stuff, I promise not to make fun
of any parts of your anatomy." The shoulder his hand was resting on went
tense, then shook him off.

"Cupid if I have to sit on you and pour this stuff down your throat you're
going to be even less happy." Still no answer.
"You know I'll do it!" The shape shifted, Cupid emerged and blinked at him.
Strife was pretty sure his eyes were supposed to be green. Ok now he was
starting to worry.

"That's it, drink this stuff now!" Strife grabbed an arm and dragged him
upright. Cupid scowled and tried to retrieve it.
"I'm not screwing around Cupid, drink it!" His cousin obviously worked out
that if he didn't co-operate he would get the stuff thrown down his throat,
he worked an arm free and took the bottle, then promptly shoved Strife until
he sat back.

He uncorked it, sniffed it, pulled a face, then downed it in one. The face
he pulled that time was even better. Then he threw the bottle at Strife.
"Ow." Strife accused and fingered his eyebrow.

"Fine, you wanna be like that fine. I've spent all fucking day being nice to
people and I'm sick of it but at least I'm dealing with it. One day with my
family and you turn into some psycho version of yourself. I'm outta here,
screw you, I'm going home." He twisted and went to slide off of the bed.

Cupid hit him in the back. Strife swivelled and scowled at him.
"What the fuck did you do that for!" Cupid seemed surprised himself. He did
however hit him again.
"Thissss issss all your ffffffault." Cupid said carefully.
"All offfff it!"
"My fault! You're kidding right, my fault I got stuck in your sandals. My
fault that you're wearing my clothes and screwing up my life, I'd love to
see where you came up with that one."
"Basssstard."

"Oh come on! Name one thing you did right today without help. I've been
busting my arse all day to leave your stuff just the way I found it and
you've been mooching around complaining. You couldn't even handle the simple
stuff, your dad did that for you."
"At leassssssst I havvve one." Strife glared.
"Oh that was mature." Cupid's response was a shove.
"Oh come on Cupe, what are you five?" Cupid glared right back.
"You're pathetic, you couldn't even stop Apollo stalking you, and look where
he ended up."

Cupid slapped him. Strife was so shocked that for a second all he could do
was stare stupidly, with his eyebrows all twisted.
"What the hell was that! You slapped me? Who taught you to fight your Mom?"
Cupid's next attempt was slightly better.

"Fine will that make you feel better? Fine, go on then, hit me, everyone
else does!" Cupid hit him again, Strife rolled his eyes.
"Zeus you hit like a girl. What? Is the job getting to you. You've never had
to learn to control your temper have you? Harder than it looks ain't it?"
Cupid smacked him round the face.
"You're still hitting like a girl!" Strife snapped. Cupid reached a hand
out, grabbed on of the straps that crossed Strife's chest and pulled it out,
then let go. There was a loud slap.

"Ow, shit that hurt." Strife was still wincing when Cupid's other arm came
up. He snatched Cupid's wrist in mid-air and glared at him. Then he warned
very carefully.
"If you keep doing that, I will hit you and it's going to hurt."

Cupid was pretty much trapped, Strife meant it, one more slap and he'd deck
him, House of Love or not. He was prepared as well because Cupid seemed
willing to get in one last shot.

"I mean i-." Cupid cheated, he'd ducked under the arm that held his wrist,
grabbed Strife's jaw in his free hand, and kissed him.

Well this, Strife decided, was different.



4 O'clock: Don't you dare plead ignorance!

It was more or less impossible to convey profound shock when someone was
kissing you. Strife still had Cupid's wrist gripped firmly in one hand but
to be perfectly honest he was far too distracted to know what to do with it.
He settled for twisting it out of the way, which coincidentally brought
Cupid closer and that was a complete accident of course, but since he was
there anyway.

If he'd ever had any doubts that the God of Love could kiss, they were
promptly shot to hell. Not only did he have that down perfectly, he was also
being spontaneously inventive with the new shape of his tongue. Strife
wanted one, or maybe if he was good he could keep this one. He let go of
Cupid's wrist and completely missed it dropping out of his peripheral
vision. Couldn't bring himself to care where it went because the other hand
had spread warmly over his shoulder and he was quite interested in that
thank you very much.

Until Cupid made a noise and pulled away. Strife got the stupid blinking
down perfectly, that was something he was good at. He wasn't sure what it
conveyed, because Cupid made a noise which sounded a lot like embarrassment,
and pretty much hid in the gap where Strife's ear met his neck.

Strife eyed the top of Cupid's head where it rested against his collarbone.
So did this mean Cupid wasn't going to hit him anymore. On the other hand it
could have been a perfectly thought out distraction technique. It was the
sort of thing Cupid could make work for him. All in all he felt like he
ought to be told.

"Does this mean you've finished hitting me?" Cupid shifted until he could
look at him. He certainly didn't look all pouty, which was sort of what
Strife had expected, he was doing the 'rabbit in front of a speeding
chariot' look, he did nod though. Strife was quiet for a minute.

He was technically still holding Cupid slumped half across his shoulder. He
didn't seem in a hurry to move and he wasn't exactly heavy so Strife
carefully ignored that fact for the minute.

"Don't get me wrong but that went way beyond waving the white flag Cupe." He
still wasn't getting anything.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Cupid chewed on his lower lip until
it went pale.
"What?" Ok he was starting to get paranoid here, the cookie had done
something to Cupid's brain, now that would explain everything. Before he
could voice this new theory Cupid shifted, sent a swipe of blonde hair
trailing across his shoulder.

"You're not mad?" Strife rolled his eyes.
"Oh please, I get pounded on all the time, besides you didn't hurt me." He
didn't mention anything about him hitting like a girl, since he didn't
particularly want Cupid to start hitting him again. Cupid didn't say
anything, he was fiddling with one of the pins holding his outfit together,
'my outfit' Strife corrected in his head. Oddly enough that sounded weird in
his head. No one had ever worn his stuff but him.

"I didn't mean about thhhat." Strife thought about that for a minute, then
frowned, realised he was frowning into Cupid's hair and shifted a bit. It
was occurring to him again that he hadn't moved yet. Sooner or later it was
going to start looking suspicious

"I wouldn't exactly get very far if I went around hitting everyone that
kissed me would I?" Cupid shrugged. Strife felt like rolling his eyes again.
The House of War wasn't that scary, Zeus didn't Cupid used to come to the
armoury for visits. He was pretty sure he'd jumped out once and scared the
pants off of him, then promptly got a smack round the ear off of Ares.

He shrugged gently so as not to dislodge his cousin.
"You're not the first one to eat something of Hecate's and go a bit weird."
Cupid tensed very briefly, Strife didn't see why it wasn't that
embarrassing. He'd spent an afternoon convinced he was a turtle and it was
just embarrassing enough that Cupid wasn't going to find out about it.
"Forget it." He didn't get any response, not even a thanks, which was a bit
depressing, but hey he was used to it.

Cupid still hadn't moved, he was going to notice pretty soon that they were
technically hugging, well more slumping, in a resting sort of way. Ok well
they sort of had their arms around each other but it probably didn't count
once you took the bottle of fizzy purple stuff into consideration. It didn't
seem to make much difference if he sort of squeezed him just a little. That
was friendly and reassuring right? Hebe had said as much.

Ok there was also the silence, this wasn't an interrogation so he could
probably fill it in since it was sort of uncomfortable. His mouth was trying
to decide what to say.
"I think the purple stuff is working." Cupid offered quietly, which was sort
of obvious in the way Cupid wasn't hissing.
"You can let me go." Cupid said softly. Strife peered down at him.
"Umm, ok." He didn't though, his arms mutinied and refused to comply with
his brains wishes. Since he'd already said ok it would look a bit suspect if
he didn't let go now. He tried to, in stilted Golem-like movements with made
him look a bit stupid.

"Strife?" Oh good a distraction.
"Uh?"
"You didn't eat a cookie." He had plenty of excuses, he had a million, for
almost any situation stashed away in his head, so why in the hell was he
shrugging like some kind of cave man. He was going to kill his body later.
Cupid shifted slightly and looked up, he took a breath and looked Strife in
the face.

"Strife you're hugging me, you've been hugging me for ten minutes. Please
tell me it's not just because you think you're holding me up? You like this
too right?"



5 O'clock: How to prove that the universe hates you...


Cupid didn't think he'd ever live it down if Strife said no. Ok there were
worse possibilities, Strife could laugh, and he was pretty sure there
wouldn't be any handy holes in the floor he could sink into. The universe
seemed to love a good laugh far too much. Well ok he hadn't said anything
yet, which didn't bode well, but he hadn't moved either.

"Uh." Strife offered eventually. Cupid frowned, oh that was helpful here he
was waiting for some conformation that he hadn't made a dick of himself and
all he got was 'uh'? He shifted until he could glare upwards.
"Uh? What the hell does 'uh' mean?"

Strife didn't look sure himself, he did however tighten his arms slightly
and push Cupid's head back down with his chin. Which wasn't very poetic but
under the circumstances it'd do fine. Cupid sighed into the skin he was
laying against.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly, Strife made some sort of noise above him,
muffled in his hair. Though he could almost read that. It was a 'what are
you sorry about this time' noise.

"Everything, getting you into this, treating you like shit, thinking you
were stupid." Strife shrugged hard enough to make Cupid jiggle.
"Yeah, well I didn't exactly help did I." Not technically an apology but
he'd accept that as well, it was Strife after all. He shifted until he could
stare at Strife's cheek.

"You always were Dad's favourite, he was always teaching you things and I
was just this little blonde thing with wings. I mean, imagine how he must
have felt, he's the God of War and he's got his nephew who's well you, and
then his own son who's this little grinning happy creature with wings. Gods
he must have wanted to toss me back."

Cupid meant it as well, what would the God of War possibly want with him.
How could he ever hope to make his Dad proud of him when Ares didn't even
understand what it was he did.
"You're his son, he would have gutted anyone who so much as suggested it."
Strife said flatly.
"Hell maybe I would've too." Cupid very carefully laid his forehead against
Strife's jaw.

"I was so mad at you." Cupid said quietly.
"You had everything I wanted when I was a kid. You had the cool swords and a
War temple and you had a decent outfit, you even had my dad."
"Cupid I did not have your dad, I've never had your dad." Strife frowned
briefly, he felt the muscles shift under his cheek.
"That came out wrong, I meant that-" Cupid shook his head violently.
"I know what you meant, oh and the other thing, don't tell me, I don't want
to know." Strife shut his mouth then frowned again.
"I thought you hated my outfit." Cupid shrugged.

"Well I'd never had to actually wear it before, anyway I was flying around
in what amounted to a skirt while you had the leather thing going on. You
were just around him, I figured you'd turn into my dad or something I don't
know. I was an obnoxious little brat and I know it, but I had so much to do
when I was little. Mom wanted me to be good. She knew I was jealous and she
wanted me to be great so I had something of my own." Cupid slumped slightly
against Strife's chest, he'd always figured Strife would be freezing cold,
he wasn't, he was actually hotter than him. Which seemed odd and sort of
new, so he revelled in it for a few seconds.
"It's like she knew Dad would never be proud of me."
"Cupe he is proud of you, he talks about you. You get along cos you don't
have to work together. You should see what he's like when he doesn't wanna
see your face bearing bad news first thing in the morning." Cupid sat up and
leant sideways against the headboard.

"It doesn't matter, look I'm getting to the fact that I had a chance.
Finally, when I'd forgotten about being jealous of you and had my own thing
going on. I get a chance to be with Dad and I couldn't do it, and it was
your fault again." Strife scowled at him, he obviously wasn't getting it.
"I don't be me on purpose just to annoy you y'know."
"That's not what I meant Strife, it's just..." Cupid ran a hand through his
hair, he'd never really had to apologise for treating someone badly before.

"You showed up doing my job and you were doing it and you weren't screwing
up, do you know what that felt like! I mean no offence but I always thought
you weren't all that bright. I mean Bliss can concentrate on something
longer than you can." Strife apparently wasn't going to let that slide.
"Thanks Cupe."
"Strife shut up, I'm still apologising." Doing a bad job of it too most
likely. He felt Strife snort into his hair and figured he wouldn't be able
to get away with that tone of voice very often.

"Anyway, so I'm screwing up again and you're there and you're trying to fix
everything again and I couldn't stand it so I hit you." Cupid eyed him
sideways through his eyelashes.
"I've never done anything like that before in my life. I'm really sorry
about that. You were right I was acting like some kind of psycho-me." Strife
shrugged as if it didn't matter, which seemed horribly wrong. Cupid couldn't
stop though because he was getting there.

"And then I kissed you, I have no idea why, you were sitting there and you
were hurting my arm and looking really pissed off..." Cupid risked another
glance up over Strife's shoulder. He was still being looked at and he
couldn't for the life of him work out what that eyebrow meant. Or why the
corner of Strife's mouth was twitching. He didn't know him well enough to
translate all the little things, which was annoying.

"I don't even know if you care, I'm babbling like some kind of idiot and I
don't even know if you care, but what the hell huh? I've already pretty much
spent all day proving that much." He probably could have thought up a few
more things to say, if Strife hadn't squeezed him so hard that he made an
unflattering squeaky noise.
"Cupe, shut up."

He was going to complain, until Strife shifted him high enough to kiss
again. Which was better, if a little surprising, since the last time Cupid
had tried it his tongue had been a different shape. Strife was dealing with
that very well though. This time there was biting too, biting was good.

Cupid didn't resist when a hand appeared from nowhere, clamped round the
back of his neck and tilted his head, aroused Strife was new and different
and definitely good. He tangled his own hand in Strife's hair, slid to his
knees. Strife mostly caught him, twisted away on a breath.

"Umm is this the part-"
"Yes," Cupid offered, grabbing the straps that crossed Strife's chest and
pulling him to him up as well.
"This is the part where we have sex," because that was the thing about
kissing, you couldn't talk at the same time, not that that was much of a
hardship.
"Er..." He wasn't going to give him a chance to say anything. Even Strife
couldn't talk through what he had planned, and since it was technically his
skirt, he had every right to put his hand up it.
"Oh." Which was getting there, noises were good. He was the God of Love so
he knew for a fact that weird noises were definitely good.

"There's just one problem...Cupid you gotta stop so's I can make coherent
sentences." Cupid's hand went still on Strife's thigh. Problem? What now?
What the hell was going to ruin his day now?
"What problem?" Strife didn't feel the need to obey his own commands because
his hand hadn't stopped moving in Cupid's hair.
"Our clothes don't come off."

Cupid made a noise, then looked down in quietly growing horror. Strife was
right, he hadn't been able to shift his clothes since eight this morning.
"No, no, no! This isn't fair, this is the one thing I'm really good at!"

Cupid slid his hands into the collar and yanked, growled, yanked again.
"Shit!"



6 O'clock: Well we are already in the bed...

"This is insane, I refuse to be stuck in my clothes, no one should be stuck
in their own clothes!" Strife pulled faces.
"Cupid does it really matter? I mean we've known each other a thousand years
are we on a deadline or something?" Cupid blinked at him, that was probably
a good point. So why were they both sitting here giving each other
frustrated looks from under their eyelashes.

Now Strife was eyeing his own sandals with distaste. Cupid took the
opportunity to grab his foot.
"Ok if we both pull hard enough-"
"Cupid that's a stupid plan." Strife pulled his foot back, left Cupid
holding the sandal.
"Your clothes come off!" Cupid snapped in shock, tossed the shoe sideways.
Strife was left looking at his bare foot curiously. He swivelled and tugged
at the other sandal.
"No they don't, that one fell off or something." Not to be discouraged Cupid
reached over and gave it an experimental tug, was immediately confronted
with two bare feet, the sandal hit the floor. Strife looked at him and
raised an eyebrow, reached a hand out and tugged the fastenings of Cupid's
belt open. Now that, Cupid decided, was crafty.

"The clever old bastard!"
"I wouldn't say that too loud." Cupid said softly.
"Oh he's been called worse to his face." Strife yanked the belt free and
tossed it sideways. It promptly smashed the wall mirror and then fell and
dislodged two pictures, which both cracked when they hit the floor.

Then he lost sight of them, because Strife had pinned him to the bed and was
straddling him. Strife was heavier than he looked but still not enough to be
uncomfortable, though since his arse was now grinding against Cupid's
erection in a terrifyingly erotic manner, he wasn't too worried about being
squashed at the minute.

Cupid's hips jerked of their own accord, Strife pulled away long enough to
tug open the leather at the back and yank it forwards.
"I was wondering how that came off." Cupid muttered but was promptly
distracted by Strife's teeth sliding across his shoulder, Cupid hissed loud
enough for Strife to give him a suspicious look. Cupid had to smirk just a
little at that, which got him an eye roll.

Strife slid backwards and lifted his head, locking eyes with him.
"You do still want to do this right?" There was definitely lust there, but
he could have sworn that Strife still thought he was going to change his
mind. Cupid's hands tugged the crossed straps off of Strife's shoulders,
they then made useful handholds to tug him close enough to tangle a hand in
his hair.
"Yes," he growled, and pulled Strife into another kiss. Long fingers worked
their way miraculously into the leather at his waist and slid round the
naked heat of his cock. Cupid hissed and his tongue pressed deeper into
Strife's mouth prompting a sharp tug from Strife's fist, he tensed and
arched up into it.
"Fuck."

Then the hand was gone and the pants were tugged as far as his thighs.
Strife's mouth refocused it's attention on his throat and Cupid arched into
the contact. Strife let out a short whimper and dragged blunt teeth across
the flesh. Cupid tugged Strife back to his knees and unclasped the skirt,
tossed it sideways off of the bed, it was closely followed by the straps and
everything else Strife was wearing.

Cupid groaned wrapped a hand around Strife's waist and clutched a length of
naked thigh with the other, jerked Strife back into his lap so hard they
shuddered against one another. Strife groaned and slid forward. The
sensation of warm naked skin against Cupid's cock prompted another groan and
a tight clench on Strife's thigh, Cupid instantly loved the way the marks
from his fingers stayed for just a second.

Strife thrust gently, sending Cupid's cock sliding against his arse. Cupid
tightened his hold on Strife's thighs and leant forward far enough to run
his tongue across the sharp outline of one collarbone.
"Cupid will you please just fuck me already." Strife whispered desperately.
Cupid groaned loudly against Strife's chest. His head tilted to one side,
then shifted, he made a short noise of annoyance. Strife dug his fingernails
into Cupid's chest, deep enough to regain his attention and get a brief
blissful eye roll.

"For the love of Zeus just grab anything off the table that isn't fizzing."
Cupid refused to let go even that long, so he held Strife's legs where they
were and twisted far enough to knock a selection of bottles onto the bed,
send then rolling across the sheets. Strife shook his head at him, Cupid
tossed a few of them away, wrenched the cap off of the fourth one he found.
"Oh give it here." Strife stole it, twisted Cupid's hand and upended it into
his palm.

Ok there was a little more in there than he thought there would be. Strife
gripped his wrist tilted it and moved it down until he could wrap it around
Cupid's erection. He made a noise, froze, then lifted Strife's hand by the
wrist, Strife smirked at him. Yes he got the hint thank you very much, now
all he had to do was concentrate on breathing and keeping his eyes open at
the same time. He pulled Strife forward by his slippery wrist and kissed
him, which provoked squirming against previously oiled cock. Cupid swore and
dropped his hand, wrapped one underneath his cousin. Strife lifted a
fraction, which meant pushing two fingers inside him wasn't hard at all.

Tight did not even begin to describe it. Strife made a short broken noise
and pushed back, and like that he looked amazing. Cupid pushed slightly
deeper and watched Strife's eyelids flutter. He couldn't think of a thing to
say, he just wanted to watch, so he did.
"Cupid." Strife's knees shifted fractionally, and again. Cupid stopped
breathing, then abruptly slid his fingers free and tugged Strife forward
with slippery hands. He tilted the slender hips, raised them and pushed into
him. Strife's throat arched, he shuddered a breath, shoulders trembling.

Strife's arms slid round his neck, lips caught his, pressed and opened.
Cupid's fingers were bone white on Strife's thighs. His breathing sharp and
awkward, he pulled his head back.
"Strife," he choked out, that tightness was incredible on his cock. He
groaned, felt Strife flex gently in response and push back. Air hissed
through his teeth, his head fell forward onto Strife's chest.
"Don't move or I'm going to come." Strife chuckled then moaned sharply when
Cupid's cock jumped.
"Oh Zeus," he whispered. Cupid's hands moved to wind around Strife's waist
pulling him down into a hungry urgent kiss. Strife rocked once, softly.
Cupid bucked, nails digging into porcelain skin. Strife hissed and jerked
hard. The sensation made Cupid cling to him.

"Slow" he begged
"Please gods...Strife...slow," Mischief obeyed, slim hands clamped on
Cupid's shoulders. He eased his body against Cupid's chest, pale skin
against tanned. Cupid, shoulders rigid, thighs tight with tension, stroked a
hand down Strife's face, much to his obvious surprise. Strife wrapped one
hand round Cupid's wrist, slid the other across Cupid's bare shoulder
blades, and arched into him.

Cupid gasped, very nearly sobbed. Strife pushed closer until his hair was
pressed against Cupid's ear, blunt teeth opened around his throat. He bucked
hard and Strife hissed, groaned and began to move with a growl. Cupid's hand
slid between then and wound around Strife's cock squeezing tightly and
Strife snarled, thrust into Cupid's fist. Cupid cried out, then muffled it
in Strife's hair, hips shuddering against the ones above him. Strife came
against Cupid's stomach on a half sob. Then collapsed panting against
trembling skin. Cupid didn't resist the urge to wrap his arms around him.



7 O'clock: And the Clock strikes twelve...

Ok this was nice, this was better than nice. How could he not be comfortable
sort of slumped over Cupid like this. He had a face full of warm skin, which
coincidentally he could still taste. Cupid didn't seem in any hurry to move,
he was breathing very gently across Strife's hair and he could feel the
spikes waving around.

On the whole he didn't particularly want to ruin it by opening his mouth. He
settled for staying where he was, fingertips drifting aimlessly around
Cupid's shoulders. He felt Cupid swallow against his cheek, getting ready to
speak, and couldn't help wondering what on earth was going to come out.

"I think I'm sitting on a bottle. Well there's something cold and hard
digging into my left buttock and I'm fairly sure it's nothing insidious."
Strife shifted.
"Want me to move?" A very short pause.
"Not particularly, if you could just shift a few inches." Strife obeyed
until Cupid's could reach a hand behind his back, then there was movement
and something 'clonked' on the floor. Strife didn't see any reason not to
slump against Cupid again. He seemed amenable, his arm sort of slid back to
where it had been.

"I'm fairly certain I was supposed to go to an orgy tonight. I never got an
invitation though, which is surprising considering how many people tried to
feel me up in your outfit." Which at the minute he was mostly not wearing,
but he looked much better this way.
"That's because I got it." Strife said quietly.
"Well I think I got it, she left it in the temple cos I'm damn sure it
wasn't there before. It had little naked people dancing on it and
everything." Cupid pulled a face at him.

"My Mom invited you to an orgy, that's just wrong. Though ok not as wrong as
when we get our lines crossed. Gods you should see us when we run into each
other there. I never know where to look."
"You're her son, you're not allowed to look." Strife pointed out, Cupid
grunted agreement.
"Ok so I can see that she's not your average sort of mom but she's still my
mom. Your mom's pretty nice I guess, on the outside." Strife pulled a face
into Cupid's ear.
"Ok not good subject matter considering we're both naked and mostly
still..." Strife shifted, Cupid moved a leg and made a quiet noise.
"Ok well we were."

"Don't move." Strife hadn't held any plans too, still good with the slumping
here.
"I wasn't going to, though on a side note, those pants don't react well to
being shoved down like that, and you probably won't get them up again."
Cupid ran his hand up the back of Strife's neck.
"I won't have to, they're your pants again." Strife looked down, then looked
up. That was a damn good point.
"Cupid don't treat my pants like that," Cupid scowled at him until he
shifted straight, ran his nose along his jawbone.
"Does this mean you're taking back the sandals too, do I get my boots back?"

"Uh huh, can I have my wings back?" Strife blinked, peered over his
shoulder. Sure enough a long white feather went up his nose, he snorted.
"I bloody forgot about those!" Cupid was staring at him.
"I didn't, they actually look good on you, especially when you move." Strife
very carefully folded them away.

"Well how do I give them back, it's not like I can just pull em off and hand
them over?" Cupid wrapped his arms around his waist and prodded them, which
tickled just a little, then he shrugged.
"We can work that out later." Strife scowled
"How am I supposed to get back into my clothes with a pair of dirty great
white wings?" Cupid shrugged, he didn't look particularly worried.
"Well you could always dye the feathers black." Strife blinked and had a
very brief vision of how tomorrow was going to go.

"I could do that?" Now that would look very cool indeed.
"Sure you could, but of course it'd mean spending more time shirtless,
without the straps." Strife could work around that, he was sure of it.
"I could work something out."
"Why am I not surprised." Oh why was Cupid doing the eyebrow at him.
"Oh come on you suggested it."
"You're going to be talking about this all day now aren't you."
"Well I figured you'd help, you suggested it!" Strife accused because he'd
been counting on a little help from the man who'd surprised him with a plan
here.

"I was right, you can't stay on the same subject for more than five
minutes!"
"Well you're the one who's trashing my pants, I have to get them on again
you know and you're squashing them all out of shape!" Cupid scowled at him.
"Fine I'll make you some new pants, will you be happy then?"
"What do you know about pants!"
"Oh for the love of Zeus fine do you want me to take off the pants? Is that
it? Is my wearing your pants now offending you?" Strife put his hands on his
hips, Cupid's eyes wavered briefly, then floated back up to his face.

"Why do you have to flip out, I was just saying that my pants are getting
wasted. They won't fit and I'll have to borrow some of yours and-"

Cupid jerked Strife's hips forward until they were pressed together, glaring
at each other. Strife slid a little in his grip and Cupid's glare wavered.

"What?" Strife's glare didn't seem to be working, well not exactly how he
wanted it to, because Cupid was swallowing at him.
"What," he snapped again. Glaring harder apparently worked just as well. Ok
so his glare had somehow twisted into a naughty smirk now.

"You shouldn't resist those urges you know, it could be bad for you." Cupid
promptly grabbed him round the waist and pushed. Strife made a noise, hit
the bed and bounced, a few stray feathers skittered across the sheets.
Strife raised an eyebrow at him.

"Try it, I guarantee you'll lose."

Cupid did, but he didn't seem to mind.

End

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