Updated Part

Fic: Overheard Conversations 1/?

Author: Kerensa

Email: vkevans@y... Feedback please. Feedback or death (well, maybe that’s going a little too far)

Rating: R, so far

Fandom: Xena/Hercules, brief mention of food from Harry Potter series

Pairing: Ares/Joxer, Cupid/Strife

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, I’m just borrowing them for a little fun. The same with the Harry Potter stories. I have no money, no property, I even have to borrow the food I eat, so please don’t sue me.

Warning: m/m; MPREG; talk of nonconsensual sex; talk of underage molestation, rape, and abuse; angst

Summary: Joxer and Strife are both pregnant and end up talking. Their husbands, Ares and Cupid overhear their conversation and find out a lot more about their husband’s, especially Strife’s past, than they ever imagined.

Status: WIP

Series: Children At Play

Archive: Yes to AJCS, Beyond Cannon and MPREG; anywhere else, sure just tell me first

Website: Nope, sorry I wouldn’t know how to set one up.

Notes: I want to thank my mother for some of the ideas in this story. She thought up the bad guy’s name and some ways to hurt poor Strife. Later in the series I will mention something, briefly, from the I LOVE LUCY show; bonus points if you can find it. Beta’d by me and Spellcheck.

Overheard Conversations

By Kerensa

Part 1

“Strife!” Joxer looked up in surprise as his nephew-in-law and fellow god flashed into the temple.

“Joxah.” Strife looked like he had been smacked upside the head. He was swaying and looked even paler than usual, if that were humanly…er…godly possible. He immediately clamped one hand tightly over his mouth, desperately trying not to throw up and one hand on his slightly protruding belly. The God of Mischief was only four months pregnant but he was already showing.

“Sit down quick, before you fall down.” Joxer suggested to his friend. Strife created a chair and cautiously sat down.

“I tell yah one of tha things I miss tha most about bein pregnant is not bein able ta just plop down. Ya gotta sit real easy or tha baby protests.”

Joxer just nodded. He could commiserate, after all he was seven months pregnant himself. Seven and a half he amended to himself.

^^^^^^

On the far side of the temple, unseen by the pair of young gods two bright flashes of light appeared. One of the lights was red and had sparks that went shooting off in every direction, the other one was blue and it had little arrows that came zipping out from it. The two other gods flashed into the temple in a bad temper.

Cupid looked over at his father, Ares looked back at his son and they both grimaced. The two gods shared a common foe, namely young, pregnant husbands who wouldn’t listen to common sense and do like their smarter, wiser husbands have told them to.

Before either of them could make a move there was a flash of pretty sparkly rose light with falling hearts. Aphrodite appeared in front of them in almost as bad a temper. “Hold it right there Cupie, you too Ares. Look, listen and maybe you will learn a thing or two.” Dite looked them up and down appraisingly. Obviously not too impressed with what she saw Aphrodite curled her lip sardonically. “Maybe.”

“I’m going to turn time back for one minute and we’re going to watch Joxie and Strifey. They won’t be able to see or hear us, but be quiet anyway, ‘cause I don’t want to miss anything.” Aphrodite snarled at them.

The dirty look that accompanied this statement caused both gods to use their brains and shut up. Neither one of them wanted to piss off the Goddess of Love. They both liked having sex more than once a century, thank you very much. Aphrodite glared at them again and noted how they weren’t moving. Satisfied Dite nodded, her long blond curls bouncing attractively. (Naturally. She’s the Goddess of Love.) With a snap of her fingers and a twirl of her hand a barrier went up around the trio and time started up again.

^^^^^^

Joxer was lying on a long cushioned chair (a couch to you and me) reading a scroll and laughing quietly to himself. His soft cotton shirt and loose pants did nothing to conceal how pregnant he was. Instead of looking ungainly or awkward, Joxer’s pregnancy made him seem more graceful and beautiful. Joxer’s slender, pale feet sticking out of the dark brown pants was so endearing and it made him look even more innocent than usual.

Strife flashed in unexpectedly, looking pale and miserable. His light from his flash was subdued, without any of the usual extras he liked to include. Like hopping frogs or locusts. Strife’s black leather tunic and pants only accentuated how wan he looked.

Cupid was surprised at his husband’s haggard appearance. He tried to go to his shaky young husband but was prevented by the barrier his mother had put up. Before he could do more than the token, “Mom,” protest, Strife create a chair and sat down.

Joxer scrambled around until he was able to get off the low couch. As he was getting up he grabbed a golden bowl out from under his couch and quickly handed it to Strife. Poor Strife was sitting on the edge of the chair, hunched over holding his mouth. “Breathe deep. Come on take nice deep breaths,” Joxer instructed.

“That has got ta be the lamest advice anyone evah gave.” Strife clutched the bowl desperately. “What lame-brain nitwit thought that crap up anyway.” Strife groused as he obediently took several deep breaths.

Joxer grinned sympathetically. “Obviously somebody who’s never actually been sick.”

“Yeah. Usually when I take ah deep breath I smell somethin that makes me want ta heave more than evah.” Strife closed his eyes and concentrated on not seeing his lunch again. Once was more than enough, thank you very much.

“What can I do anything to help? Do you want something to drink? Oh wait, sorry, I can’t get you anything.”

“What.” Strife looked up in surprise. “How come?”

“*Ares*.” Joxer growled. Now Joxer’s growl wasn’t as loud or threatening as the other god’s (more of a puppy-like growl), but it was a sound that was seldom heard. That made it even more startling. Nice, sweet Joxer *never* growled.

^^^^^^

Ares winced at hearing his name spoken so sternly by his normally soft-spoken, loving husband.

^^^^^^

Frowning, Strife looked at his friend. “What, Unc has somethin against ya givin out drinks?”

Joxer stood there pouting, his hands on his waist. Well, at least where his waist used to be. “No, your *Uncle*, in his mighty, all-knowing, infinite wisdom, has decided I’m too stupid to come in out of the rain. So he has put a protection spell around this room. While it’s up I can’t use *any* of my powers. ‘For my own good.’” Joxer’s face scrunched up cutely.

^^^^^^

Joxer’s statement caused Aphrodite to turn and give a shamefaced Ares her dirtiest look. It was a look that just screamed that something vital was going to fall off in the near future. Ares turned, subtly shifting his privates out of the line of fire. He tired to ignore Aphrodite as he watched his husband and nephew-in-law.

Cupid just looked at his father in admiration. “Damn, I wish I’d have thought of that Pop. Strife’s been havin’ kind of a hard time with this pregnancy and he’s supposed to be at home resting, but is he.” Cupid flapped his snow-white wings energetically several times in exasperation. “Nooooo, instead he’s flashing all over Olympus making himself sick. I just don’t know what I’m going to do with tha…mmph.”

Dite stopped Cupid in mid-rant by slapping her hand, none too gently, over his mouth. The dirty look he received didn’t promise anything falling off, but it did predict several long and frustratingly celibate evenings in his future. Aphrodite smiled a sweet, loving smile and Cupid shivered in fear. “Cupie honey, didn’t I tell you to SHUT UP and LISTEN!” Cupid’s eyes got very big and he just nodded his head at his mother and shut up. At last.

^^^^^^

“What did ya do ta make Unc restrain ya.” At this Strife giggled gently, nothing at all like his usual maniacal giggle. (You know which one I mean, the one that makes murderers run crying for their mommy’s.)

Joxer’s normally pale face flushed a delicate rose color at the innuendo. “Restrain ya powers that is.”

“I went to a tavern in Thrace.” Joxer cleared his throat. “One located in the sailor’s quarters.” Strife’s eyebrows shot up at that and Joxer frowned. “It was perfectly safe.” Joxer sat back down, slowly and pouted indignantly. “I am a god you know. I mean, as the God of Peace, I’m supposed to spread peace. I had to stop that tavern fight, innocent people could have been hurt.” Joxer stopped, assuring himself that he didn’t sound defensive. No sir, he had no reason to be defensive. None what so ever. Nope. None…uhm.

Strife just watched Joxer’s rant. He patiently waited until his friend settled back down. “So,” Strife drawled, “ya went into a rowdy tavern. Ta stop a fight. While ya’r seven months pregnant.”

“Seven and a half,” Joxer corrected automatically. “And yes I did. There was nothing wrong with my going down there. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I have to stop working.” Realizing this wasn’t getting him anywhere Joxer sat up straight, pulled his shoulders back and continued to rationalize, I mean, explain. “I was talking with Eris the other day and she told me that when she was pregnant with you she still managed to keep up with *all* of her godly duties.” Joxer finished his speech with an emphatic snap of his head and a ‘there, take that’ attitude.

“Um huh,” Strife said noncommittally.

After a long (dare I say it) pregnant pause, Strife looked thoughtfully at his scowling friend. “So…ya took advice from Ma, huh. Maybe ya should be locked up.” Strife smiled at Joxer to show that he wasn’t serious. Joxer smiled back at his friend. “Jerk.” Joxer threw a small pillow at Strife.

“Thanks I needed that,” Strife said catching the pillow. He giggled and started to hand it back when Joxer waved and told him “keep it”.

“Don’tcha need it Joxah. Oh, never mind.” Strife giggled again when he saw the pile of pillows on Joxer’s couch, around it, under it. Seeing that it wasn’t needed he tucked the pillow behind his back in obvious relief.

Returning to the conversation, Joxer said, “I would have been just fine, you know.” Joxer ran a hand over his light brown hair. It had gotten ruffled when he jumped, err, got up earlier. “Hello, I’m a God now. It’s not like I’m a mortal anymore, even if I am still a klutz. I would never do anything to hurt our baby.” The last sentence was spoken quietly while Joxer looked at the medium-sized lump he was rubbing.

“Well of course ya wouldn’t evah endangah tha baby.” Strife watched Joxer who looked so sad. Nodding decisively, Strife started snickering and Joxer looked up from his brooding.

“What’s funny?” Joxer wasn’t mad, he was just curious. He knew Strife would never make fun of him. They had both been ridiculed enough in their lives to ever intentionally hurt each other.

“I just got this pictcha in my mind of Unc…pregnant. Can’tcha just see it. There Unc would be standin in tha middle of a battlefield. He’s out ta here preggers, wearin’ a long black leathah tunic. In one hand he’s wavin a sword in tha othah hand he’s got a glass of milk. And he’s yellin’ ‘Don’t piss me off, I’ve got hormones workin heah.’”

Strife stopped laughing and sat quietly, watching Joxer expectantly. As anticipated, he didn’t have long to wait. Joxer frowned as he leaned back on the couch and absently continued to stroke his stomach. After a little while the frown cleared and Joxer looked up at a gently smiling Strife.

“Do ya get it now?” Strife looked at his friend steadily. “Not a very comfortin pictcha is it?”

“You…are a tricky god.”

“Thank ya.”

“Umh huh. No I don’t like that picture…not at all. All right I think I get it now. I understand more of where Ares is coming from. I’ll try to behave.”

“Good, ‘cause the world needs more haves.” Strife piped up cheekily.

Joxer snorted and rolled his eyes as he got the joke. “Speaking of behaving, aren’t you supposed to be resting at home? Cupid will probably have a fit.” Joxer look around, mildly surprised that the winged god hadn’t already come running to collect his wayward spouse.

Strife nodded sagely. “Yes, I’m supposed ta be restin’ and oh yeah, Cupie’s gonna blow big time.” Strife made a noise like a blast as he threw his hands out, mimicking the fallout from an explosion.

Joxer smiled as he watched these antics. Strife was always so entertaining. “So then what are you doing here?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

“Oh…what?” Confusion obviously reigned supreme here.

“No really, I ain’t kiddin ya. I don’t know how I got heah. I have no idea what happened. One minute I was standin in tha bedroom trying ta put on some different shoes and thinkin to mahself, ‘I’d like ta go see Joxah today.’ Tha next thing I know, whoosh, I’m here with you.”

“What?!” Joxer quickly sat back up. “Are you telling me that you didn’t flash here deliberately?”

“Nope.”

Strife’s abrupt answer was a good indication of how worried he was. If something could be said in one word, Strife babblingly took 5. The more worried he was the wordier his sentences became. Unless he was really scared and then he became virtually monosyllabic.

“Crap. That’s not good.” Joxer frowned at his fellow pale god.

“Nope.”

“You could end up anywhere. I don’t know about you but there are a lot of places I really wouldn’t want to flash to all of the sudden…” Joxer stopped talking abruptly and put his hand over his mouth in horror. “Oh gods, I’m sorry. I didn’t think, that just popped out.”

“It’s okay Joxah,” Strife said quietly.

^^^^^^

On the other side of the temple there were now three thoroughly confused and upset gods.

Ares had gone from being really happy to extremely anxious in the space of about 2 seconds. He was thrilled when Joxer finally understood why he was so upset about Joxer going down to earth. On the other hand he now had to worry about the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. What was going on with his nephew?

Cupid was naturally worried (All right he was scared youknowwhatless.) about Strife flashing around without planning it. To top it all off, it now looked like there was some big dark secret that he and Joxer shared. Cupid didn’t like that one bit. His husband should be confiding in him, not a friend. Even if that friend were someone as nice as Joxer.

Aphrodite was beginning to have serious doubts about her plan. It sounded like Joxie and Strifey had a big secret they were keeping. She didn’t want it to hurt any of the people she loved when it came out.

Part 2

“I’m sorry if I upset you.” Joxer’s voice was tremulous. Strife started to reassure his friend, but didn’t get the chance. Joxer started crying and couldn’t seem to stop. Strife hurried over and sat down beside his friend. Strife magicked up a handkerchief and gave it to a grateful Joxer. Strife ran his hand soothingly up and down Joxer’s arm. “You know what I hate most about being pregnant?” Strife shook his head no. “I hate the HORMONES.” Joxer went from crying to yelling in less time than it takes to tell it.

Strife watched wide-eyed as Joxer jumped up. (Yes certainly he jumped, he was a pregnant, hormonal god and if he thought he had jumped then he had jumped.) Joxer started pacing. “Sometimes I get so mad I could just scream,” Joxer yelled. “Most of the time I start bawling like a baby.” Joxer gritted his teeth. “Then there are these moments when I just want to…to pull something’s head off. Man, woman, goat, I don’t care which.” By now Joxer was waving his hands around and striding up and down in front of his couch.

“Are ya sure you went down ta that tavern ta *stop* tha fight.” Strife’s quiet joke was a good distraction and stopped Joxer cold. He just looked at Strife who was wearing such a serious face. Then Joxer began laughing. The storm over, Joxer sat back down, cautiously and smiled at his friend in appreciation.

“See I told you that hormones suck. Lucky you, you haven’t had to deal with them yet. You or Cupid.” Joxer snickered evilly.

Strife got up and moved back over to his couch so that Joxer could lay back down. He smiled at his friend in an attempt to lighten the conversation. “So where is Unc anyway?”

“Thessaly.” Strife’s mouth fell open and his eyes almost popped out of his head. Strife looked around at the empty hall. Joxer winced at the horrified look on Strife’s face.

“Wait a minute.” Strife leaned forward, grunting and rubbing the side of his stomach as he did. Joxer frowned at this and was about to comment when Strife went on. “Da ya mean to tell me Unc restricted ya powahs an then left ya here, alone. Alone and helpless.” Strife’s voice got louder and louder until the last word was almost a shriek.

“I think he forgot.” Joxer muttered quietly as he watched his friend get mad on his behalf.

“Damn, don’t he know there are people out there who will take advantage of that kinda situation. People who look for somebody alone and vulnerable, so they can hurt em.” Strife stopped ranting and slumped back in the chair, panting. As soon as he got his breath back Strife continued. “No, I guess he don’t. Lucky bastard.” The last sentence was spoken without venom and oh-so quietly, but everyone heard it anyway.

“Strife, who in their right mind would come into the temple of the God of War and hurt that somewhat volatile (*somewhat*-Teehee) god’s husband. His very pregnant husband. Nobody’s *that* crazy. I don’t think I was ever in any real danger.”

Strife looked at his innocent friend sadly. “I know ya don’t.” Unfortunately Strife knew better. Quietly he said, “Joxah there are a lot of people who ain’t in their right minds.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Joxer agreed with Strife thinking of his own brothers. Both gods looked upset.

^^^^^^

Across the room the older gods were upset too. Ares couldn’t believe he had forgotten and left Joxer all alone and what the hell did Strife mean that there were people who would take advantage? Who were these people and how exactly did Strife know about them.

The three older gods were trying to figure out this confusing new information. Preoccupied, they missed it when Strife zinged the subject off in a totally new direction.

^^^^^^

“…beer to drink. I haven’t had one in a long time.” Joxer said longingly.

“Oooo…I like tha sound ah that.” Licking his lips in anticipation, Strife started waving his hands around. With a tiny flash of light two mugs, filled with frothy yellow liquid appeared. One appeared in Strife’s hand and the other one landed in Joxer’s. With relish both gods began to drink.

^^^^^^

“Beer,” Ares roared. Cupid was upset too, he just didn’t yell as loud.

Aphrodite had finally had enough of the two Neanderthals standing next to her. For pity’s sake were these two ever going to learn anything. She reached out two exquisitely manicured hands and popped both of the men on the back of the head. When she had their attention she said, “Do you two idiots really think they would do anything to hurt their precious babies?”

Dite’s growl was one that was worthy of Ares himself. It had Ares, being the macho War God he was…cowering in fear behind his winged son. “Hold still Cupid,” he told his unhappy shield, “she won’t blast her own son.” Both men waited, seeing if Ares’ hypothesis would hold true. Aphrodite rolled her eyes. “Idiots.” She turned back to observe the two pregnant gods.

^^^^^^

Strife watched as Joxer gulped down his second mugfull of *butter beer*. “Sooo, when did ya run outta somthin ta drink?” With a flick of his finger, liquid bubbled back into the mug, refilling it.

“Noon.” Joxer barely paused in his drinking to answer Strife.

“Ya hungry too?” He shook his head sadly at Joxer’s swift nod.

^^^^^^

Aphrodite was thoroughly disgusted. Joxie was starving! She reached over and hit Ares again. Several times. On his arm this time.

Ares was starting to become bruised from all of this abuse. He didn’t even notice. His husband had been thirsty and hungry all day. And vulnerable? Ares watched as his nephew flashed up some sandwiches that his young husband ravenously attacked.

Ares had forgotten about the protection spell he had cast. This morning had been hectic. Ares had received some bad news about a war he was trying to start. He was more distracted than usual lately, because he was having to do Strife’s job as well as his own. Quite frankly he wasn’t nearly as good at causing trouble as his young nephew was.

Wait a minute! Why hadn’t his priests helped Joxer? Ares was surprised when Strife seemed to read his mind.

^^^^^^

“Joxah, what about tha temple priests. How come they didn’t get ya somethin ta eat and drink?”

Joxer paused in the middle of eating to answer. “I don’t think they could get in. I heard the door rattle a couple of times and I yelled for them to come in, but they never did.” Strife sighed and shook his head in amazement. Oh well, nothing bad had happened, thank goodness, so he decided to talk about something innocuous for a while.

“You know, I’ve always wondered, if root beer is made with roots, is butter beer made with butter?” Joxer wiped the mustard off of his chin. Ahhh…there was nothing like a good peanut butter and mustard sandwich to hit the spot. He was soooo glad that Strife had brought back peanut butter from the future. Now if he just had some sauerkraut to put on it…

“Considerin where it came from, I wouldn’t be ah bit surprised.” Strife watched as Joxer finish his second sandwich and third drink. Strife felt his stomach roll and closed his eyes at the sight. It wasn’t the food, gods know he had eaten worse. No, the problem was that he still suffered from morning sickness…and afternoon sickness, evening...

Unconsciously Strife found himself taking several long, deep breaths. It helped settle his tummy. For now anyway.

“Ya still hungry?” At Joxer’s sheepish nod Strife grinned, his pale blue eyes sparkling mischievously. (How else would the God of Mischief’s eyes look.) “Good, cause now it’s time for the most important food for a young god ta eat, specially when he’s preggers.”

“Ambrosia?” Everybody grimaced at the thought.

“Yuck no. No, the *real* food of the gods.”

“Chocolate,” they chorused together. With that Strife waved his fingers and several small boxes appeared in mid-air. They dropped to land on a low table that Strife had made appear in between the two god’s couches.

“Ooooo…chocolate frogs. I love them, although they are kind of hard to eat.”

“They ain’t too bad once ya get tha hang of it. Ya just hafta be real quick and catch em before they jump away.”

^^^^^^

At this, the shamelessly eavesdropping gods looked at each other in horror. “Did Strifey and Joxie say they were going to eat frogs?” Aphrodite asked, wrinkling up her nose, naturally in a pretty, sexy sort of way. “Eewww…that is like just major grotty. I’ve never heard of anybody, pregnant or not, eating something that weird.”

^^^^^^

Looking a little green, the three older gods turned back in time to see Strife pounce. He caught Joxer’s chocolate frog, just as it was about to hop away. Strife handed the somewhat squished frog back to Joxer.

Joxer noted the pained wince and tummy rub that followed these exertions. “Thanks.” Frown. “Now spill it.”

Strife pretended not to understand what Joxer was talking about. He tried to ignore his friend and attempted to change the subject, again. “Take a look at how much mah feet are swellin. Bafore long I won’t be able ta get any shoes on at all.” At this Strife slipped off the loose shoes he was wearing and Joxer could indeed see how much his feet were swelling.

“Why don’t you make yourself a stool.” Joxer paused. “To put your feet up on.” He interjected before Strife could come up with the ‘Why would I want to make myself a stool for’ joke.

Strife stuck his tongue out at Joxer in retaliation for making him miss out on a good joke. “I would, but puttin mah feet up like that just makes mah back hurt even more.”

“Then why don’t you make your chair longer. Extend it out into a couch, like mine is.”

“Well, duh.” Strife smacked himself lightly on the forehead. Not enough to hurt or mess up his spiky hairstyle. “Why didn’t I think ah that.” Strife sent out a sparkle of energy. The chair stretched out and widened like a piece of candy being pulled. Strife then put his feet up in apparent relief.

“Now, as I said before you tried to change the subject, spill it. What’s going on? You are barely four months pregnant. That is wayyyy too soon for your back to be hurting and your feet swelling. I was about six months along before my back really started bothering me and it’s only now that I have any real trouble with my feet swelling.”

Strife started to shake his head, but before he could try to deny anything, Joxer overrode him. “And another thing. Why are you in pain? Don’t even bother trying to deny it, I’ve seen you holding your stomach.”

Strife became very interested in the nap on the back of his couch. He shrugged one shoulder negligently. “It’s no big deal. I’ve already talked with Asclepius and he says this is natural.”

“Natural?” The disbelief in Joxer’s voice spoke volumes.

“Fah me anyway.”

At Joxer’s astonished look, Strife went on, “Ace says I’m gonna have a lot more trouble with this pregnancy than most otha gods would.”

“Why?”

“Old…it’s cause of some old injuries.”

“Oh.” This sad response was all Joxer could say.

^^^^^^

Ares and Aphrodite were listening to Strife’s revelations in surprise.

Cupid was just stunned. What in Hades was Strife talking about? What other problems was Strife having and why hadn’t he been told?

What old injuries!?

Part 3

“How…old are these injuries?” Joxer asked Strife carefully.

“Oh you know, some real old, some not so old and some…fairly…recent.” Strife’s attempt at nonchalance was ruined by this hesitant speech.

“How recent?”

“Pretty recent.” Strife muttered this under his breath, but again everyone in the room heard him.

“Oh Strife,” Joxer had tears in his eyes as he looked at his pale friend. “Why haven’t you ever told anyone, other than me.” Strife started tugging and pulling the threads out of the back of the couch. Joxer plowed on, determined to reach his goal no matter how hard it was, for him and for Strife. “When you say recent, how…recent do you mean?”

“Ah couple ah…months.” Strife pulled on a piece of thread until it snapped off in his hand. He just stared at it a few seconds and then threw it onto the floor. Strife immediately began attacking another thread.

Joxer had closed his eyes in horror at Strife’s admission. “This has gone on long enough,” he said decisively. “You’ve got to tell someone about this, right now.” Joxer scowled. “You can’t go on like this anymore.” Joxer paused and stared at his upset friend. “I can’t believe no one ever noticed and that, in all these years, you have never told anybody.” Joxer wasn’t being judgmental. He was being supportive and he was going to continue to support Strife until he got the help he so desperately needed.

“Who would I have told?” Strife wouldn’t look up at his friend. His attack on the defenseless couch becoming more determined.

“How about Ares. Or your mom. What about Aphrodite…Cupid.”

“Nobody woulda believed me. I’m the ‘useless God of Mischief’ and he’s…well he’s perfect.” Strife shrugged his shoulder and with that one gesture dismissed himself as unimportant.

^^^^^^

“Useless! Why in Tartarus does Strife think he’s useless! Who told him that?” Ares was in full rant, pacing back and forth in front of the barrier. He was running his fingers through his curly ebony locks. The leather of his outfit made a faint creaking sound as he stomped around raging. “No matter what this big secret is, I would have believed him. Strife always tells me the truth.”

Aphrodite quietly broke in. “Who’s perfect?”

^^^^^^

Off in one of his numerous temples, Apollo heard the question and naturally assumed it was about him. With a flourish and a great deal of pomp he appeared in Ares’ temple. There were multicolored sparkles and dazzling lights. (Much like that you would see in your average carnival side show.) It was very impressive if Apollo did say so himself and of course he did, often.

Not one person, god, whatever, noticed.

^^^^^^

“Now as fah telling people. Unc…”

“Raised you?”

“…as an obligation.” By now Strife had made quite a place in the upholstery. He slid down a little and began digging at another section. “I could stay here with him as long as I did what I was told and didn’t cause any trouble.”

^^^^^^

Ares stopped in mid-stride and just stood there. He felt like he had been kicked in the chest by one of his beloved war horses. Strife was like a son to him. He loved him as much as he loved Cupid.

^^^^^^

Eris, the Goddess of Discord and Strife’s *loving mother*, was in Thrace trying to cause problems between two neighboring warlords. The men had, amazingly enough, always got along and Eris hated contentment. It grated on her nerves, so she had decided to stir things up.

Eris had a godly connection with her brother and so she felt it when Ares got upset. In anticipation she happily flashed back to the temple. She soooo loved to see her brother blow things and people, up.

She arrived behind the barrier in surprise and was just in time for her own unhappy dose of reality.

^^^^^^

“My mom hates me. She always has…and always will. As soon as she could arrange it she dumped me on Unc.” Strife looked sad at this admission. Little bits of stuffing were falling from Strife’s fingers. He stopped and absently wiped his hand on the cushion.

^^^^^^

Eris was disconcerted. She had thought Strife was okay with their relationship or lack thereof. She stayed away from him and he avoided her. She didn’t know why she was so bad at the mothering thing, she just was. Eris had been happy with this arrangement and had thought Strife was too.

Eris’ wandering and admittedly not-too-stable mind forgot about everything except her son and the drama playing out in front of her.

The warlords in Thrace lived happily ever after. (Not skipping through the woods, holding hands happy. No, more like not ripping each other’s throats out happy.)

^^^^^^

“What about Aphrodite?” Joxer looked sad over his friend’s low opinion of himself. Of course, he couldn’t talk, nobody ever wanted him before Ares and Ares just wanted to control him.

^^^^^^

Ares heard what his young husband was thinking. He didn’t want to control Joxer, he was desperately afraid of losing him. Him and the baby. Before Joxer came into his life, his existence had been bleak and empty. Desolate. Ares knew in his heart that if something were to happen to Joxer he would go insane. Ares was appalled to realize that he had not done enough to show Joxer how important he was in his life.

He realized that confining Joxer to the temple like a wayward two-year-old hadn’t helped matters any.

^^^^^^

Hephaestus was in his forge working and he could feel the anxiety pouring off of his wife. Dite was normally so calm, so he knew something major was happening. He flashed in behind her and put his muscular arms around her waist. Aphrodite felt her husband enter the room. When he came up behind her, Dite leaned back for some much needed comfort.

There were tears in her eyes as she listened to her son-in-law list all of the people who *wouldn’t* have helped him.

^^^^^^

“Dite’s real nice, but she don’t know I exist.”

“As fah Cupid,” Strife paused and looked sideways at Joxer. Making a decision he asked, “Joxah, how long have ya and Unc been married?”

Joxer frowned at the unexpected question. “About a year and a half.” Strife cocked his head to one side and arched his eyebrows. He kept looking at his friend. Joxer blushed prettily and said, “All right, all right. We’ve been married one year, eight months, three weeks and five days.”

“Ya don’t need to tell me how many hours.” Joxer blushed a bright rose color and it was obvious to everyone watching that he could indeed name the hours as well.

“And how pregnant are ya?”

“Seven and a half months.” Joxer didn’t understand the question. Strife knew exactly how far along he was.

“I’ve been married 2 months and nine days.” Strife paused and then smiled. “And 14 hours, if ya want ta know.” Again Strife hesitated. “I’m four months pregnant.” Strife spoke quietly as he smoothed down the black leather tunic he was wearing. It was similar to his normal suit, with safety pins and all, but just not nearly as tight.

With that last statement everything became clear to Joxer. “You don’t think Cupid would have married you if you hadn’t become pregnant.”

“Joxah, we’d had been seein each otha for ovah 2 years. There had nevah been any talk about marriage before I became preggers.” Strife swallowed hard and looked miserable. “No, he wouldna married me othawise.”

^^^^^^

Cupid just gaped at his husband in a very unattractive manner.

“He doesn’t believe I wanted to marry him!,” Cupid sputtered.

Aphrodite looked at her upset son. This was one of the main reasons she had made Cupid listen in on Strife’s personal conversation. She’d hated invading Strife and Joxer’s privacy like that, but it had been necessary. Ares had to understand how badly he was treating Joxie. Cupid needed to know about Strifey’s insecurities.

Dite realized that she too had some things to learn about her son-in-law. It saddened her that Strife thought she didn’t notice him, he was one of her favorite relatives.

Cupid turned to his mother, gesturing imploringly. “Mom, please drop the barrier. I need to talk to Strife.”

“What? Oh honey, of course. I had forgotten all about it.” Aphrodite raised her hand to drop the barrier, but before she could there was another bright flash of light.

When their eyes cleared the older gods saw that three women had appeared in the temple, directly in front of them. The Maiden, the Mother and the Crone.

The Fates.

Oh crap.

“We cannot let you do that yet,” they intoned all at once. Creepily. “There is more you *need* to see and hear.”

Part 4

It was a good thing that Ares and Joxer’s temple was so large because by now there was an augmented audience watching the two unsuspecting gods.

Some of the gods, like Hera, felt the energy surge when The Fates intervened and wanted to see what was going on. So immediately after The Fates arrived so did Hera.

Zeus began to wonder what his wife was up to so he followed Hera to Ares’ temple.

Some of the gods felt Ares, Cupid and Aphrodite’s sadness and came running to help and in a few cases to gloat.

Before long the rumors were flying faster than Hermes could spread them. The gods and goddesses who didn’t come to Ares’ temple summoned scrying mirrors instead and watched events unfolding.

The two main participants in this drama remained serenely unaware of all this scrutiny and kept drinking butter beer.

^^^^^^

“Ya do know that most people think I tricked Cupid inta marryin me.” Strife’s matter-of-fact statement was distressing.

Joxer was shocked speechless and then he recovered. “How exactly do you *trick* someone into marriage.”

“By gettin pregnant on purpose.”

“Who thinks you did that?”

“Just about everybody.” Strife tried to smooth the torn place on the back of his couch. “I didn’t ya know.” This was said quietly, like Strife didn’t think his friend would believe him.

In astonishment Joxer huffed out, “Well of course you didn’t. Why in Hades name would you want to be married, *for eternity*, to someone who didn’t love you.”

Joxer sat fuming while Strife was mauling the couch again. “They really think you got pregnant just to get Cupid to marry you.” Strife nodded mutely. “Boy some people are idiots.”

“Joxah, most of em think I tricked him inta sleepin with me in tha first place.”

“How ridiculous. For that to be true you would have to be an outrageous liar.” Seriously he turned to his friend. “Do you make it a habit of going around tricking the other gods?”

“No, I try not ta lie ta anybody and I only do mischief ta tha mortals.”

“Exactly.” Joxer nodded emphatically. “You are one of the most honest people I know. The idea of you tricking Cupid is just plain ludicrous.” Joxer crossed his arms over his stomach, well chest really, having made his point. “Besides why would you need to trick Cupid at all.”

Strife looked incredulously at Joxer. “Joxah look at me. I ain’t exactly good lookin heah. Even I don’t know how I ended up with Cupid.”

^^^^^^

There was a lot of shifting and shuffling of feet as various deities listened to what Strife said. More than one of them had said these cruel words about Strife. A few had even said them to his face. They could see how upset Cupid was and now realized how brainless they had been.

It was around this time that somebody decided to bring Xena and Gabrielle up to the temple. Misery loves company they resolved and they wanted the two women to be miserable as well

^^^^^^

Strife leaned his head back against the cushion and closed his eyes with a drawn out sigh. “Are you all right?” Joxer looked at his friend worriedly. Strife looked utterly exhausted.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little tired is all.” Seeing the grim look Joxer was giving him Strife relented. “Okay, okay. I’m really, really tired.”

“Umm…transporting can be demanding all right.” Joxer remembered the last time he had gone anywhere and how drained he had been afterwards. Actually, it had been when he had gone down to that tavern fight. By the time he had fallen into bed that night he had been so worn-out he hadn’t even been able to flash his clothes away. Ares had done it for him…even after the argument they had just had. Maybe going down there hadn’t been a good idea after all.

Strife sighed quietly, unaware of the epiphany his friend had just had. “Yeah. Dite was over at tha temple last night, talkin about flashin heah ta fix this couple and flashin theah ta set up that orgy. I tell ya, by tha time she was through talkin I was exhausted. Just thinkin about doin that much travelin makes me want ta take a nap.”

^^^^^^

Strife looked at his friend who was frowning. Strife slapped his legs resolutely. “Okay…let’s stop being maudlin. Are ya ready for more candy?”

“Sure.” Joxer let Strife divert the conversation, yet again. He realized that his friend needed to let the pain out a little bit at a time or it would overwhelm him. “What else have you got? I think I’m all frogged out.”

“Frogged out.” Strife snickered at Joxer’s joke and then began giggling. “At least they’re not Canary Creams.”

“Oh boy. No I definitely don’t want Canary Creams. I really don’t want to start molting.” Joxer snorted at that image.

Strife struggled for a minute with that picture. He could just see the spell turning Joxer turning into a large yellow canary. He giggled harder. In his mind Strife could see a big, feathery, yellow Joxer and the look that Ares would have on his face. Strife laughed harder, but before long he was hunched over, holding his ribs and flinching in pain. This killed any humor that Joxer saw in the situation.

Before Joxer could comment Strife held up a box and quickly flipped it around like a magician playing a card trick. “Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans! Oh goodie, I love those.” Wide-eyed, Joxer held out his hands and made a gimme gesture.

Both gods opened their boxes, poured some of the candy out into their hands and…just stared at it. Joxer poked experimentally at his candy. Finally Strife picked up a piece, shrugged and popped it into his mouth. Joxer watched him carefully.

“Mmmm, lime.”

Joxer looked back down at his candy and bravely ate a piece. Gathering his courage for another onslaught, Joxer snuck a glance at Strife. “What sort of injuries?”

Strife realized that Joxer wasn’t going to be put off this time. He mangled his box a while before deciding how to answer. “It’s like a broken arm.”

“What!” Joxer couldn’t figure out the euphemism. “A broken arm. I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Ya know, if yah break yahr arm it’s nevah the same, right.” At Joxer’s nod Strife continued. “Well if yahr kinda young the first time yah arm is broke and maybe yah don’t know how ta fix it, it gets sorta messed up. And then if the arm keeps getting broke, well it’s just gonna get worse every time. Eventually it’ll just…stay broke.”

^^^^^^

Around Olympus and in Ares’ temple, the various gods and goddesses wondered what he was talking about. Had Strife been beaten so badly that he was permanently injured? When did that happen? And precisely what kind of injuries would make it tough for him to carry his baby?!

As a whole, the Pantheon was upset and scared. They didn’t know how to react to someone who got hurt and stayed that way. Hephaestus, with his scars and injuries were far enough in the past that people didn’t know how to relate them to Strife.

There were even a few gods that thought Strife was actually talking about a broken arm and didn’t get what the fuss was all about. They were ignored because anyone that dense just didn’t deserve an answer.

^^^^^^

“But I thought if a god…broke his arm…he could just fix it and it would be as good as new.”

“Yeah, that’s true, usually. Course there are some exceptions ta tha rule. If tha arm is broken by anotha god it takes longah ta heal.” Strife swallowed hard and looked away. “If yeah are wearin…Hephestian metal it’s even worse cause that makes it like yah’re mortal when yahr hurt. And if tha arm ain’t allowed ta be healed right, well it takes an act of god ta heal it.” Strife snorted. “Actually it takes tha act of nine gods.”

“Nine?”

“Yeah, it takes a quorum of the *Big Twelve* getting tagetha ta heal somethin permanent like that. And we both know how likely it is that tha majority of that group would evah agree on anythin…especially me.”

^^^^^^

By now the entire *Big Twelve* was standing behind the barrier. They looked at one another speculatively. (Except for Ares, Aphrodite and Hephaestus, because they were too busy watching their loved ones.) The gods were sizing each other up and doing a little soul searching. Each one of them was wondering who would or would not have agreed to help Strife. Most of them didn’t like what they saw…about themselves.

^^^^^

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m all right. It’s just a fact ah life.”

The gentle man was heartbroken, seeing his friend so, so accepting of his fate.

Joxer was trying to think of how to help the other god when Strife spoke up. “So what have yah got?” Joxer looked at his friend blankly. The he noticed that Strife was pointing to the candy in Joxer’s hand. Joxer had forgotten all about it while Strife had been talking. He decided to gracefully help Strife out.

“A black one.”

Strife bit the corner of his lower lip, completely unaware of how sweet and sexy he looked when he did that.

“Black huh. So, are ya gonna eat it?” As Joxer hesitated, Strife offered, “I wouldn’t.”

“How come?”

“Cause there are waaay taa many black things that I wouldn’t wanna eat.”

Joxer contemplated for a few seconds. “Uhm, yeah mud wouldn’t be any fun to eat.”

“No it isn’t.” Joxer looked up sharply at that unintentional admission. “But that ain’t exactly what I was thinkin about.”

Joxer thought for a minute, considering the possibilities. What was worse than mud? “Eeewww, you mean shi…eeewww, that’s disgusting. They wouldn’t actually put that flavor in here, would they?”

Strife just looked at his friend who was looking at the innocuous piece of candy in trepidation. “If they’ll put in ear wax as a flavah, they’ll do anythin.” After considering this for a few seconds Joxer shrugged, said “you only live once” and popped it into his mouth. He almost immediately started gagging and grabbed up his drink.

“Yuck, it was liver.”

“Liver flavored candy, how revoltin.”

Both gods looked at their respective boxes of candy warily before tossing them onto the table. Adventure was one thing, but liver flavored candy just went *too* far.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, resting. Not talking, not doing anything. Just soaking up the peaceful quiet of the afternoon.

Eventually Joxer started wriggling around on the couch, trying to get up. Strife watched him in sympathy. In the midst of the wriggling Strife offered, “Do ya need somethin? Can I help ya?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. Unless you can go to the bathroom for me.” Joxer finally managed to get up.

Strife giggled. “Sorry, you’re on your own theah. I was wonderin about that anyway.”

“Wondering about what?”

“Since ya can’t leave tha room, what d’ya do, use a chambah pot?”

Joxer grinned and pointed behind the couch. “No, Ares created a bathroom for me over there.” Strife arched an eyebrow and looked around. “Oh, it’s hidden behind a glamour.”

“Cool.” Strife watched as Joxer opened an invisible door and vanished.

^^^^^^

Strife relaxed a minute or two. (Well, he tried to.) Before long he started squirming. He couldn’t get his back comfortable, his ribs ached and he thought he was going to throw up again! In an attempt to find a comfortable position he twisted this way and that way on the couch.

Cupid’s eyes glazed over as he watched his husband. No matter how worried he was, all Strife had to do was start twitching like that and Cupid was as horny as Zeus when…well Zeus anytime.

Eventually several of the other gods and goddesses started to get turned on too. It so happened that these were the same deities who had told Strife that he would have needed to trick Cupid into sleeping with him. They were swiftly changing their minds.

They watched as Strife found a little chocolate left on his hand. Strife looked around for a napkin and couldn’t find one. Shrugging he began to lick the chocolate off and several more people’s brains shut down. They watched as those long, slender fingers slid into and out of his mouth. (More happy mush brains.) A pointed pink tongue licked in between his fingers, cleaning until there was no chocolate left. Many of the observing crowd were leaning against each other and almost fell over when Strife stopped licking himself. (His hand!)

None of them had ever stood still long enough to allow themselves to become aware of how sexy Strife was. With that soft, pale skin and startling blue eyes he was, perhaps not traditionally good looking, but he was…different. Even four months pregnant he was something!

Cupid looked over and saw the panting crowd and growled at them. They had better *back off*. Strife was his! He growled again and the people stopped panting. (At least where the jealous God of Love could see them.) There was a great deal of shifting around and adjusting of clothing. (Uh huh.) If Cupid noticed this he didn’t say anything.

^^^^^^

Standing up carefully, Strife rubbed his tender back. He twisted his torso around a little until there was an audible crack. Strife grimaced slightly and rubbed his back some more and then wrapped his arms cautiously around his ribs. He started wandering around the room, trying to relieve some of the achiness from sitting so long. He ended up in front of a long table that held various piles of scrolls. This table was coincidentally (yeah, right) in front of the barrier created by Aphrodite and The Muses.

^^^^^^

Cupid moved until he was right in front of his young husband. He could see the pain that was so evident in Strife’s nakedly open face. Pain that Strife had somehow managed to keep hidden from him.

^^^^^^

Strife glanced around the room. Several changes had been made to the temple since Joxer had come to live here. The stark black walls and furniture had been replaced with lighter colors. He was glad, it was so much…homier, not a phrase used automatically when talking about the God of War, but there you are. Joxer was like that. He distracted you with his sweet innocence, his natural serenity and then changed people, for the better, without even trying.

Strife looked up and saw a wall-hanging that he had never noticed before. Squinting he moved closer, trying to get a better look. The picture in the center of the cloth showed a man with black hair with strikingly blue eyes. Strife flicked his fingers and the tapestry lowered several feet to hover in front of him.

“That’s me!” Strife was dumbfounded. He looked closely at the small scenes surrounding the main figure. They were all of different aspects of his life. “There’s me doin mah first official act ah mischief. That lady never had such a big loaf ah bread in all her life.” Smiling a genuine smile, Strife followed the pictures with his fingers, being careful not to touch. “There’s even onna me pregnant, with Cupid and a little tiny Bliss by mah side.”

“Me. Ah Life Tapestry of me.” Strife raised the tapestry back to it’s original spot. He wiped tears from his eyes. Everyone could see how touched he was. “I wonder where tha one ah Cupie is and if I’m in it.”

Strife turned around to look and accidentally knocked one of the scrolls from the table. Automatically he bent over and picked it up. As he stood up dizziness hit Strife like a whirlwind making him stagger over against the table.

Part 5

Cupid watched his husband in dismay. He tried to go to him, but was again repelled by the barrier. He turned to The Fates to plead with them and was distraught to see that they too were upset. What could surprise them? He looked back in time to see Strife straighten up.

^^^^^^

“Well…that wasn’t onna tha smartest things I coulda done.” Strife continued to use the table as a support. “Now which pile do ya belong in?” Strife looked at the various stacks and back to the scroll in his hand. “It’s no use I’ll hafta look at it, I sure don’t wanna end up sendin some ah Joxah’s notes ta onna Unc’s warlords.” Strife rubbed his hand across his face tiredly as he giggled. It was a very weak and strained giggle, a pale imitation of his usual laugh.

Strife unrolled the scroll a little, just enough to read the heading. “Okay, Sexual Practices Among Mortals.” Strife used one hand to weakly push himself up off of the table. Strife was still contemplating where to put the scroll down when he realized what he had read. “Sexual, what?” Dumbfounded Strife stared at the offending piece of parchment.

“What’s up?” Strife jumped and yelped. “Jeez Joxah ring a bell or somethin, will ya. Ya almost scared tha kid right outta me.” Strife gasped as he put one hand to his throat. He could feel his pulse racing there and tried to calm himself down, this couldn’t be good.

“Sorry.” Joxer looked chagrined. “What’s so fascinating?” Strife silently, (His heart was in his throat doing a dance, an Irish jig maybe, so he couldn’t talk) handed the scroll to Joxer. Joxer read the title quietly. “I think this was probably sent here by mistake. I’m the God of Peace not the God of Getting a Piece.”

Joxer spoke so seriously that Strife found himself nodding in agreement. It was only when the God of Mischief got a burst of energy that he recognized the double entendre his friend had made. Strife and everyone else (Yes, even The Fates) stood with their mouths hanging open. Joxer was so shy and innocent…and apparently mischievous.

Strife sputtered and laughed out loud. This time the laughter was too much and Strife doubled over in pain. It was only because he was still leaning against the table, that prevented Strife from collapsing to the ground. Joxer took hold of Strife’s arm, the one that wasn’t currently leaning against the table. “Strife what is it? Call for Apollo quick. I would, but I can’t because of the shield.”

Strife held up one hand. “I’m all right. It was just a cramp.”

“*Just* a cramp.” Joxer looked at his friend incredulously.

“Yah, really I’m all right. I just pulled a muscle this mornin.” Strife straightened back up and smiled at his friend shakily. “Pickin up Bliss. Don’t worry though, I talked ta Ace and he said I was okay.”

Joxer nodded at his friend, still not entirely happy with the explanation. Noticing how wan and shaky Strife looked, Joxer took hold of his friend’s arm. “Come on, you need to sit down before you fall down.”

An unsteady Strife let himself be led, unprotestingly back to his couch.

^^^^^^

Joxer sat down beside his friend and indicated the scroll. “I don’t know about you but I’m curious to see what’s on here.” With that Joxer unrolled the scroll to the first diagram. He just stared at it. Then he stared some more. Next he turned the scroll around, examining it from every angle. “I don’t get what I’m seeing. I mean, obviously I have a fairly good idea what this should be, but I just don’t see it.”

Strife looked at the scroll and blushed. With a shaky hand he covered up part of the picture. “See if this helps.”

Joxer looked until it dawned on him what he was seeing. “Oh, okay.” Then Strife took his hand away and Joxer saw the rest of the picture. He just looked at it wide eyed. “I didn’t…why would…is he being tortured?”

“Nah, it’s supposed ta feel good.”

“It is?” Joxer asked incredulously.

“Yeah. That’s what I’ve heard anyway.”

Joxer looked at the picture with a frightened look on his face. “Who have you heard that from?”

“Different followahs. They send me scrolls with some pretty sick stuff on it.”

“Worse than this?” Joxer squealed as he gestured at the offending scroll.

“Oh yeah.”

“Oh, um, well, I don’t…let’s go on to the next picture.”

The next picture was even more of a revelation. “Oh my. I don’t think that’s humanly possible.” Turning the page slightly, Joxer blanched. “Or even godly possible.”

“Joxah, I don’t think two octopi could do that.”

Joxer quickly unrolled the scroll further. “What’s that?!”

“Tha thing thay’re, uh…on?” Strife looked again, cleared his throat and grimaced. “That’s called a trampoline. It’s from tha future.”

“What’s a trampoline?” Joxer asked in shaky voice, not entirely sure he wanted the answer.

“It’s like…a big piece of leatha that’s stretched out ovah a big drum. Only it’s real stretchy. People get on it and jump up and down, cause it’s bouncy.”

“That sounds kind of precarious.” Strife nodded his agreement. “But then…” Joxer looked back down at the picture again. “…oh my, that seems dangerous.”

Joxer turned to the next illustration. He was looking down as so he missed it when Strife flinched and all color drained from his face. “That just looks painful,” Joxer said.

Not looking at him, Strife stated with absolute certainty, “It is.”

Joxer looked in horror from his friend to the picture and back to his friend again. He furiously waded up the scroll and threw it down on the ground. Placing an arm around the other god he tried to comfort him. Strife wouldn’t have any of it and got up hastily to pace.

Not knowing how to help his friend Joxer just sat there thinking. Finally Strife sat back down on his own couch. Joxer hated to do it, but he pushed once again.

Joxer had a million questions, none of which he really wanted answered. “Strife…how old…how did…tell me about the first time you were…” Joxer found he couldn’t say the word. Glancing up at his friend Joxer realized that it was vital that Strife be the one to say the words. He needed to say them or he would never get any better.

At first Strife didn’t say anything and Joxer was afraid he had pushed his friend too far. Then Strife sighed and without looking up he started to tell his dreadful story.

“Unc wasn’t here. He was off…I don’t remembah where, workin with anothah war god. I was at an awkward age. You know the phase of life. Too old for ah sitter, taa young ta go with him. He was just gonna be gone a coupla days and really how much safer could ya be, a god livin on Mt. Olympus. So I stayed heah…by myself.”

Strife swallowed convulsively. “HE came that first night. He was so mad.” Strife shivered. “Onna his intrigues had gone wrong and he was ticked off. He flashed in and grabbed me, he…he said I had had enough practice.” Strife stared blindly into space, caught up in the violence of the memory.

“He threw me down and hu…hurt me. Nothin had ever hurt so much in mah life. I thought I was goin ta die. And tha blood… Afterwards he told me not ta go ta anyone or it’d be worse next time.” Strife looked over at Joxer with tears in his eyes. “I couldn’t imagine it bein any worse…god I was naïve. That time was n-n-nuh-nothin compared to tha last time…on tha battlefield.” Strife shivered at the brutal memory.

Joxer got up and went to his friend, slipping an arm around Strife’s shaking back in comfort. Strife let him this time. Not really wanting the details, he had to ask anyway. It was necessary for Strife to get it all out in the open. Of course, Joxer had no idea just how *out in the open* everything was becoming.

“Where did it happen?” With a shaking finger Strife pointed towards the entryway. Joxer looked quickly, afraid someone was interrupting them. Seeing no one he looked back at Strife and saw a single tear trailing down his unnaturally pale cheek. “Oh god.” Joxer whispered in horror. “It happened here in the temple. In your own home. Right over there.” Strife nodded.

“Strife, you need to say it. I know it’s going to be hard but you have to say it out loud.”

“That’s…that’s wheah I was…wheah…” Strife looked beseechingly up at Joxer. Joxer gripped his hand tighter. “That’s wheah he…raped me tha first time.” With this statement Strife burst out crying and buried his head in Joxer’s shoulder. Joxer held his sobbing friend and cried too.

“Strife…how old were you?”

Strife struggled, he didn’t want to tell this last part. “Eleven.”

^^^^^^

For once Ares couldn’t say anything. He wanted, needed, to scream and yell and damage somebody. Strife had been hurt and hurt badly and he had never known. He had brought his young nephew into his home and failed to protect him.

Ares was crying. Not many people ever got to see this side of the God of War. But right now he wasn’t the God of War, he was Ares, uncle and surrogate father to Strife, who was hurting.

Ares felt an arm go around his shoulders. He looked at his brother in astonishment. In point of fact, it was his half-brother, Hercules. Neither the god nor the demi-god said anything. There wasn’t anything that could be said.

Iolaus watched as Cupid attacked the barrier again. He was so frantic and desperate to get to his distraught young husband that he couldn’t think straight. Before Cupid could hurt himself, Iolaus caught him. He put his arms around Cupid and held on tight.

Glad of something to focus on, Cupid held on to Iolaus and tried not to lose control again. Losing control wouldn’t help Strife and that was what was important at the moment.

Cupid turned to The Fates and began to plead. “Please ladies, please let me go to him. He needs me.”

The Fates looked at Cupid sorrowfully. Lachesis shook her head and said, “There is still more that you must see.”

“More.” Cupid was agonized. There was more. How much worse could it get? He turned back to the barrier, afraid he was going to find out.

Part 6

“I’m so afraid Joxah.” Strife stayed leaning on his friend. He had finally calmed down enough to talk. “I don’t know how I’m gonna stand goin back.”

Joxer pulled back quickly and looked at his friend. “Going back where?”

“Back ta bein alone. I’ve been stupid. Everybody always said I was stupid and I guess they were right. I thought I could hide what I did and just be happy. That’s all I wanted ta do, was be happy. Is that taa much ta ask?” Strife started crying again, softly.

“Strife you haven’t *done* anything.”

“Cupid will find out now.” Strife wasn’t listening to his friend. “I’m gonna hafta been real careful with this baby and he’s gonna find out why. He won’t want ta be around me anymore. He won’t want Bliss ta see me.” With one hand protectively covering his tummy Strife said, “He’ll keep me away from this one taa.”

“Strife, why…” Strife interrupted, still not hearing.

“Havin Cupe these last few months has made mah life bearable. When I wake up from mah nightmares, seeing him layin theah helps make em go away. I don’t know if I can stand bein alone again. Stand not havin somebody touch me, love me, care whethah I live or die.” Strife stared straight ahead, looking at a bleak and empty future.

“Strife look at me.” When Strife finally complied, Joxer continued. “You *are not* going to be alone. Cupid loves you and wants to be with you. The fact that you have been hurt isn’t going to change that.” Strife looked uncertain.

“I didn’t know it could be good. I thought it always had ta hurt and he humiliatin.”

Joxer couldn’t speak at first. What do you say to a statement like that?

“That’s natural, I guess. After all, he’d been…doing things to you for a long time hadn’t he?” Strife just nodded, not looking up. Joxer thought and thought. How could he help his best friend?

“Tell me about the first time he molested you.” Strife tried to shrink away, but Joxer wouldn’t let him. Like an infected wound, the poison had to be let out before it could get better. “How old were you?”

“I don’t know. Mah first memory is him comin in ta Ma’s temple. I was sittin in mah room playin with some blocks when he flashed in.” Strife raised a shaking hand to wipe the tears out of his eyes. “But…it wasn’t anythin new ta me. I knew what ta do, what he was gonna make me do with him.”

^^^^^^

Even the gods had to strain to hear Strife’s confession, because it was muttered so quietly.

“He was 4.” Ares turned to Hercules in horror. “Strife was 4 when he came to live with me. So, he was younger than that when all this started.” Ares turned to stare at his nephew. Hercules swallowed hard, thinking of his own children and imagining them being brutalized.

Eris had fallen to the ground. Her baby had been victimized in her own home. She hadn’t known. He had been brutalized and she had never noticed. Even for a bad mother this was a devastating blow.

^^^^^^

Strife was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. He had been through more of an emotional upheaval in the last couple of hours than he had in years. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep for a week.

Suddenly, there was a tingling in the air, one that Strife knew all too well. He jumped up in horror. “Hurry, get in tha bathroom. It’s under a glamour and he won’t know ya’re theah.” Strife was tugging on Joxer’s arm, desperately trying to help him up and causing himself considerable pain in the meantime.

“Strife what is it?” Joxer was doing his best to stand up.

“HE’S comin!” The panic in Strife’s voice told just exactly who HE was.

There was really nothing that could be done. By the time Strife realized another god was flashing in, HE was already there.

^^^^^^

The Pantheon watched Strife panicking. In seconds there was a flash of light and another god appeared. The new god wasn’t very intimidating. He looked like a small stooped over old man.

“Hello Strife.” The deep voice, in odd contrast to the ancient body, snarled at the young god. Strife dropped Joxer’s arm and began backing up in dread. The old man stopped by the couch and looked Joxer up and down; he smiled in appreciation of what he saw. Recognizing the leer, Joxer pushed back into the couch, trying to get as far away from him as he could. “Don’t worry, I’ll get to you later.” The lecherous sneer had Joxer trying to become one with the couch.

The old man advanced on the retreating god. Strife was panting in terror and about the color of a piece of parchment.

^^^^^^

No one fought back. Joxer couldn’t because of the protection spell. The other gods were behind the barrier or sitting, stunned in their homes. Strife was too demoralized by a century’s worth of abuse to ever think of raising a hand against his abuser.

^^^^^^

The back of his legs bumped into a chair, causing him to stumble slightly. This was enough of a delay and the other god was able to catch him without even trying.

HE grabbed Strife by the wrists and squeezed hard. Strife cried out in pain as he was jerked closer.

Everyone watched as the old man began to change. He grew younger and taller, much taller. He easily towered 9 or 10 inches over Strife, who was himself a tall man. His body began to fill out and muscles rippled out to cover his body. Where there had once been a frail old man now stood a hulking giant who made Hercules look like a weakling.

^^^^^^

“WHO THE TARTARUS IS THAT?” Ares roared.

“That is Tryst, The God Secret Meetings.” Zeus’ quiet voice surprised everyone. He had been so unobtrusive that not many of them had even realized he was there. “I thought I got rid of that abomination years ago.”

^^^^^^

Tryst tightened his grip on Strife’s arms. Never before had Strife looked so fragile, so delicate. His pale, slender wrists were completely engulfed by the other god’s huge hands.

Strife cried out again as Tryst bent his arms back. Strife was forced to his knees and everyone could easily see the abused little boy Strife had been in the young god he was now.

“Please don’t hurt tha baby, please.” Strife had tears pouring down his face in pain and terror. “Please don’t hurt Joxah.” As inspiration struck he said, “Joxah is Ares’ husband, ya don’t want Unc afta ya if ya hurt him.”

Tryst laughed derisively and twisted Strife’s arms causing him to scream in pain as they cracked. Strife collapsed to his knees when Tryst let go of his wrists, only to be yanked back up when the other god clamped onto his upper arms and lifted him up. Strife dangled helplessly in Tryst’s bruising grip, his feet several inches from the floor. Tryst shook him, making Strife’s head snap back.

“Didn’t I tell you to behave. Didn’t I warn you what would happen if you disobeyed me. You are mine. You always have been and you always will be.” Tryst thundered in the hysterical god’s face, each sentence punctuated by Strife’s head being jerked back. “Now you have to be punished.” He pushed Strife back and slammed him down on the scroll table. Scrolls flew everywhere as Strife was arched backwards.

^^^^^^

Cupid turned to The Fates, ready to beg, threaten and offer his life in return, if they would only let him help his husband. He didn’t even have to ask.

The Fates each raised a hand and the barrier lowered with a boom.

^^^^^^

Tryst looked up at the noise and found himself facing an entire roomful of *pissed off* gods, goddesses, demi-gods and mortals. He looked down at the gasping Strife, his eyes blazing. “A trap! You set a trap, you little whore. Now you *will* pay.” With that he yanked Strife up and threw him across the room.

Tryst flashed out as the swarm of gods and goddesses poured into the room.

^^^^^^

Several people tried to help as Strife was thrown. Cupid sent out a stream of energy, trying to slow down his speed. Ares tried to catch his nephew with an energy field and managed to keep him from flying head first into the wall. Hera placed a protection spell around the baby. Aphrodite materialized a large pile of pillows for Strife to land on. This all helped soften the landing, but still, what you ended up with was a slender, unwell young god being thrown clear across the room by a huge, pumped up, insane older god.

Strife didn’t have a chance.

He slammed down on the pillows with a mighty thud. He landed so hard that the pillows literally exploded and feathers flew up in the air. Strife cried out once before he passed out.

^^^^^^

Joxer was flat-out hysterical. Not only was afraid for himself and his baby, he was terrified for Strife. Tryst (Yes, Joxer knew his name, Strife had told him a long time ago.) had erected a cage around Joxer’s couch. When Strife was thrown all Joxer could do was pray for his friend and his unborn baby.

Ares raced over to his spouse and vanished the cage with a thought. He held his precious husband and tried to calm him down.

Joxer clutched at Ares and cried tears of fear and terror. At last he felt safe. He jumped at a loud boom.

Ninety percent of the other gods in the room had vanished with a resounding crash.

They were hunting.

Tryst didn’t stand a chance.

Part 7

Cupid dropped to his knees beside his husband before the feathers could float back to the ground. Strife lay crumpled on his right side. To Cupid he looked like a little doll that Bliss had once thrown in the corner. Strife was unconscious and Cupid was afraid to touch him, afraid he would injure him more.

Apollo, Asclepius and Hera came running. They didn’t even try to budge Cupid from his husband’s side. Cupid wouldn’t go and Strife was going to need all the support he could get. Ace placed his hands carefully over Strife’s tummy. He smiled at Hera in relief. “Your protection spell worked. The baby is all right, but Strife has been badly hurt.”

Strife moaned and opened his eyes. Immediately he began to whimper and beg, “No, please don’t hurt tha baby.”

Cupid leaned over and tried to reassure his young husband. “Baby, it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” He brushed the hair out of Strife’s eyes and was saddened when his husband flinched at his touch. “It’s okay, it’s me.”

Strife looked up and tried very hard to focus. Everything was so fuzzy. “Cupid?”

“Yeah baby, I’m right here.”

“Tha baby! Is it okay?” Before Strife could ask anything else he grunted and doubled over in pain. He tried to wrap his body around the tiny child he was carrying. This caused broken bones to move and he cried out. Sensing where Cupid was, he blindly reached out to hold onto him. When Strife tightened his grip, his crushed arms moved and he screamed. The scream made his tummy hurt even worse. Strife laid on the floor, covered in feathers, and whimpered.

Even in his pain Strife kept trying to touch his stomach. If he hurt this much the baby must be hurt too. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Strife cried for his lost (as he assumed) baby.

“Strife, baby, calm down. Try not to move. You’re only hurting yourself. The baby is fine.” The last sentence was the only one that Strife really heard, the only one that mattered. He looked up into his husband’s face and asked, “Tha baby’s okay?”

At Cupid’s reassurance Strife collapsed and hovered somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. Dimly he could hear the others talking, but not really what they were saying. It didn’t matter, the baby was fine and that was all he cared about. The pain didn’t matter; he had lived through far worse than this.

Strife snapped his head back up and bit his lip so he wouldn’t scream at the stabbing pain in his head. “Joxah, is he all right?” The cotton somebody had stuffed in his ears made it hard to hear, but he dimly heard Joxer saying he was okay.

Strife’s eyes rolled back in his head as everything began to fade away. He laid back down and started to twitch. Cupid wiped the tears from Strife’s eyes and looked pleadingly at Apollo.

Apollo carefully took Strife’s bloody head between his hands. He had to force himself to ignore the cry of pain this movement caused. He concentrated and sent some of his energy into Strife’s head, healing the multiple fractures and bleeding he found there. When he was through he looked down into Strife’s pale blue eyes and saw gratitude. He lowered the young god’s head back down onto an unbroken pillow.

^^^^^^

The cotton was gone. He guessed somebody had pulled the stuffing out of his head. Strife wanted to giggle at that image but he was too tired and besides now that he could think clearly the pain from the rest of his mangled body was again making itself known.

Strife felt himself being rolled onto his back. He tried not to scream, he really did, but the pain was too much. On the up side, at least he wasn’t laying on his broken ribs anymore. Once the wave of pain passed he found that he actually wasn’t hurting as much now.

He looked up and saw Cupid looming over him. Then his beloved husband picked him up oh-so-carefully, like he was picking up a delicate vase. Strife was prepared this time and managed to keep his cry down to a low moan. Then he was leaning against Cupid’s bare chest and the pain was forgotten. (Well, let’s get real here. It wasn’t forgotten, but he didn’t hurt quite as much.)

Strife closed his eyes and kept them closed, even when he realized they were moving. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Strife knew he should wonder where they were going, but he just couldn’t find the strength to care. The slight swaying motion lulled Strife and he was almost asleep when Cupid stopped walking.

“Lay him down on the bed.” That was Unc talking.

“Wait! He has too many broken bones; we need to make the bed softer.” When did Apollo get here?, Strife wondered.

Strife felt himself being lowered and he wanted to resist it. He was so comfortable in Cupid’s arms. And safe. It felt like nothing and no one could hurt him when Cupid held him. Strife didn’t want reality to intrude on his comfortable place, not yet.

The bed was like a cloud. Light and airy. It felt good on his shattered body. At least until broken bones rubbed against broken bones. Dimly Strife heard someone cry out and wanted to help them. He didn’t realize that person was himself.

Maybe he should ask them to put the cotton back. At least when his head had been hurt, he hadn’t been in so much pain. Now the pain was everywhere and it was hard to breathe.

Strife looked over at his husband. Cupid had tears running down his face. It broke Strife’s heart to see him so upset. “It’s okay,” he whispered. This only made Cupid cry harder. Strife turned his head when he realized Apollo was talking to him.

“…going to set your arms now. I can’t give you anything for the pain, because I don’t have anything that won’t cause complications for the baby.” At Strife’s nod of understanding Apollo continued. “I’m sorry. I don’t know of any other way.”

^^^^^^

Everyone (Yes, those not out hunting for Tryst were still watching via scrying mirror.) cringed as a grim Ace took hold of Strife’s arm, just above the elbow and Apollo carefully took hold of his hand. With a decisive pull and twist the arm was set. Strife bit his lip so as not to scream. Apollo moved to the other side of the bed as Ace placed his warm hands around Strife’s cold, shaking arm and healed the breaks. The other arm received the same treatment.

Strife’s mouth was bloody where he had bitten into his lips in pain. Cupid wiped the blood away. “I love you baby. It’s going to be all right.” Cupid kept murmuring in Strife’s ear and managed to calm him down.

“Where else do you hurt, other than your side?” Strife shakily pointed to his right leg. Upon examination it too proved to be broken. Luckily it didn’t have to be set, only healed.

^^^^^^

Strife got a funny look on his face and he started twitching. Joxer recognized the signs and grabbed a bowl for him to throw up in. Cupid and Ares helped Strife roll onto his side, just in time. Strife threw up and threw up and threw up. He had his arms clamped tightly around his ribs the whole time. The pain was incredible and by the time it was all over Strife was soaking wet. You couldn’t tell where the tears ended and the cold sweat started.

There was blood in the bowl. Not a huge amount, but enough to worry Apollo and frighten Cupid to death.

Apollo, Ace and Hera stepped back from the bed and began to consult with each other. Strife lay shivering and shaking. His husband and uncle rolled him back onto his back. Strife floated for a moment and was glad of it. At least here he wasn’t hurting.

Strife looked over when Cupid took a damp cloth and wiped his face off. He wanted to reassure Cupid, but he didn’t have the strength. It was really getting hard to breathe now.

He tugged weakly at the leg of his pants. Black leather might be the kind of clothing he always wore, but right now it was damned uncomfortable. Sweat and blood and feathers were mixed liberally all over his body and felt…nasty.

“Lay still baby.” Cupid waved his hand and Strife was clean and dressed in different clothes. His outfit was more like Joxer’s. The loose trousers (black naturally) were made of cotton as was his loose blue tunic. (It just matched the color of his eyes.) Strife was more comfortable now.

“Strife.” Strife watched Apollo, Ace and Hera approach the bed. All three looked exceptionally grim. “Strife,” Apollo said again. “We need to fix your broken ribs.”

“How are ya gonna do that without hurtin tha baby?” Strife knew that no magic could be done anywhere near his abdomen, not without causing serious problems for the baby.

“Hera’s going to do a protection spell, similar to the one she used when you were being thrown. It will protect the baby and allow us to work on you.”

Strife frowned. Hera was here when Tryst was? How did that happen? For that matter, why were there were so many gods here? Strife looked around the room at the several gods standing around. “How come there are sa many people heah?” Strife looked at his husband and realized that Cupid looked guilty. So did Unc. As far as that went, everybody except Joxer looked guilty.

“Strife, don’t worry about that right now, okay. Just focus on you and the baby.” Strife realized Joxer was right. It was all still so floaty and that made it harder for him to concentrate.

“Do whatevah ya gotta do. I know it’ll hurt.”

Hera came around and sat down on the bed next to Strife. Strife swallowed hard and looked at his grandmother in fear. He felt the bed ripple and realized that they had made it smaller. Now Apollo could stand on the right side of the bed and reach him just as easily as Ace could on the left side of the bed.

“We’re going to need some help holding him down.” Several people came forward at this and Strife was surprised to see Xena and Gabrielle among them. Strife gripped the sheets to either side of him as hands latched onto him. He looked desperately for Cupid and saw his husband beside him. (Naturally.) Strife turned back and tried not to look at any specific person, he didn’t want to make this any harder on them than it had to be.

Hera raised her hands up and flexed them a few times. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Strife was stunned; nobody told him they were sorry, except Joxer. Strife nodded reassuringly to her.

Apollo carefully pulled Strife’s shirt up and he heard gasping. Strife couldn’t spare the attention to wonder what everybody was upset about.

Hera’s hands began to glow, getting brighter and brighter, until finally they turned translucent. With one last apologetic look at Strife, Hera lowered her hands until they touched his stomach.

Strife gasped. Her hands felt so cold. He watched in horror as her hands hovered there and then pushed *into* his stomach. Strife cried out at the pain, but managed to lay still. He fisted his hands into the sheets. She pushed in further and it was all Strife could do not to shove her away. He could see that she was in his stomach all the way up to her forearms. She moved her hands together and kind of locked them behind the baby. Strife managed to keep the scream down to a choked off cry.

“Now!” Hera muttered. Sweat was running down her face. This was obviously difficult on her too.

“Hold him tight everybody, it’s gonna get bad.”

Cupid’s head snapped up at that. “It’s gonna *get* bad,” he echoed.

Then Apollo’s hand started glowing and he too reached inside Strife. He curled his hand under Strife’s broken ribs and pulled up.

Ares watched this procedure as he tried to hold Strife’s hips down on the bed. He was horrified to realize that he could actually see the broken pieces of Strife’s ribs moving into place.

Strife screamed in agony. He twisted on the bed, trying to get away from them. Several more people surged forward and clamped down on him. Gabrielle had to actually lay down across his legs to keep them still.

Strife knew he had to stop, he had to lay still or the baby could be hurt. He reached out to the side with his hands and grabbed hold of something. He didn’t know what, he didn’t care. He sobbed when he felt the power from Ace heal his ribs. Then some of the pain was gone as Apollo pulled his hand out.

“Thank god that’s over.” Strife looked over at Xena and realized she was crying. Over him?

“We have to do the other side.” Strife closed his eyes when Apollo said this, not certain he could go through with any more.

“Can’t he have a break first?” His beloved Cupid. He could feel him stroking his hair.

“If we stop now, he’ll have to go through with Hera’s part all over again.”

Strife shook his head, looking straight at Cupid and then Apollo. “Go on, finish it, please.”

He was prepared for the pain this time, but was so exhausted that he screamed even louder.

There was still more work to be done. A lot more. Punctured lungs were healed and reinflated. His liver and both kidneys were made whole and working again.

Strife shuddered. The cold from Hera’s hands kept spreading farther out into his body. He bit his lips again to keep himself from begging them to stop.

The baby.

He would concentrate on the baby. He would do anything for his husband and his children. He could do this.

Finally it was over and Hera pulled her hands back out of his stomach. He vaguely felt someone pulling his shirt back down.

Cupid was kissing his forehead as he ran his hands through Strife’s hair. Eventually Strife stopped crying and lay on the bed unmoving.

“Strife is there anywhere else are you in pain?.” Ace looked like it was all his fault that Strife was hurting.

“Mah hands and arms.”

Strife didn’t understand why his arms were hurting. Hadn’t they already fixed them? He felt someone rubbing his left arm and hand. He looked over and realized he had a death grip on Cupid’s kilt.

“I can’t let go.”

He realized somebody else was massaging his other arm. Strife blushed when he realized that he had hold of Hercules’ woven leather pants. (The leg!)

“Sorry.”

Hercules just smiled at him. It took a few minutes of work before his hands would relax enough to unclench.

Part 8

Strife lay on the bed and shuddered. The bed and the people leaning against it shook themselves he was shaking so badly. He was so cold. He could still feel the iciness of Hera’s hands inside of his stomach. Strife felt something soft and warm covering him. He opened his eyes. Xena was laying a blanket on him. Xena?

Strife looked around the room. Not only was Xena here, but so was the bard, Gabrielle. Over there was Athena and Artemis. Was that Poseidon looming in the corner?

“Cupid, how come theah are sa many people heah?” Strife hadn’t forgotten his earlier question or the looks of guilt he had seen.

“It’s all my fault Strifey.” Aphrodite looked uncomfortable.

Strife heard the door shut and realized that everyone else had either backed away from the bed or left the room, except for Dite, Ares and Cupid. Outside of the room he could hear several booms as various deities flashed out.

Very faintly he could hear snarling, several people snarling. “Leave some for us.” That was *Iolaus*?

Strife forgot about them and tried to concentrate on what was happening inside the room. He looked from loved one to loved one and was worried. This looked like it was going to be bad. He didn’t know if he could take any more *bad* today.

“What’s all yar fault?” Strife’s could barely speak above a whisper.

“I made them listen…”

“No, we are to blame.” Strife looked over at the three women who were talking one after the other. The Fates! “More needed to be heard.”

It was weird tha way they talked. One would say a word in tha sentence and tha next would continue, and so on. Strife’s wandering mind wondered what happened when somebody didn’t get ta say as many words. Did they hafta start another sentence sa everybody could get their fair share? What was he doin? Oh yeah, listenin ta them talk. (Cut him some slack, he’s been whacked around pretty good.)

“We summoned him in the first place.” Well that explained tha flashin without meanin ta. “We had not anticipated his being hurt. For that we are sorry.” With an uncommonly bright spark of light they disappeared. (Who says The Fates aren’t cowards.)

“What are ya’ll talkin about?” Strife looked blearily from one shamefaced face to another. Finally it was Joxer who answered him. He explained about the barrier that Aphrodite had created and that The Fates hadn’t allow to be removed. When he was finished poor battered Strife still looked puzzled. (Again, give the poor guy a break, he was just beaten to a pulp.)

Joxer looked his good friend in the eye and delivered the upsetting news. “Strife, when you and I were talking today, people were listening in.”

Strife frowned, “People? Who are ya talkin about?” Strife’s breathing started to get faster as he thought about what Joxer was saying. Then he started thinking about all of the things he had said, things he had admitted!

“Most everyone on Olympus.” Strife’s eyes widened at Apollo’s statement. “A lot of gods were actually here in the temple. The rest were watching on scrying mirrors and heard everything that you two were…” Apollo broke off as Strife’s eyes got the size of dinner plates and he began to hyperventilate.

“Nonononononononono.” Strife got louder with each no. “Oh god no! Now they know, they all know…what I did…what I am.”

Strife started to roll to the left, but Cupid was there and Strife couldn’t face him. Strife whimpered. He couldn’t stand to see the disgust that would be in his husband’s eyes.

Instead he rolled to the right.

Ares was here and he didn’t want to see him either, but there was nowhere else for him to go. Nowhere for him to escape. Strife clenched his hands into fists and brought his arms up over his eyes. He curled up into a ball and sobbed brokenly.

^^^^^^

Across Olympus there were not very many dry eyes. People couldn’t believe that Strife felt he was to blame or that they would think badly of him. (Like that’s never happened before.)

More gods and goddesses left their homes and began the hunt for Tryst. (It’s a good thing the crime rate was so low on Olympus. Except of course for rape, torture…incest. Uhmmm…right.) They were going to find him and he was going to pay.

^^^^^^

Cupid waved his hand and the bed reformed until it was back to it’s original size. He laid down behind Strife and gently wrapped his arms around his crying husband. He snuggled up behind him, being careful not to put very much pressure on his still bruised body. Cupid put his head on Strife’s shoulder and began talking to him.

“Shhh, baby it’s all right. Everything will be all right.” Strife kept crying. “You’re right, we do know what you are.” Strife curled up into an even tighter ball.

Everyone looked at Cupid in horror. What was he saying?

“Do you know what I see? I see my sweet, wonderful, beautiful husband, that’s what I see. I see someone who has been hurt all his life and still turned out great. I see someone who didn’t let that monster ruin him. I see my husband, Bliss’ father and the father of our little baby.” Cupid rubbed his hand faintly across Strife’s tummy.

Strife was crying less and had relaxed, a little.

“Strife, look at me.” He looked up at Joxer. “Do you trust Cupid?” Strife nodded. Of course he trusted Cupid. “Then listen to what he’s saying.”

Cupid slid over and Strife allowed himself to be laid on his back. He looked up and saw his husband’s loving, unjudgmental eyes. Strife started crying again, tears of relief this time. All of his life he had carried this burden and now…now he wasn’t alone.

Cupid held Strife in his arms and let him cry. The others left the room and let Cupid comfort his husband. (Even the few people who were still watching via scrying mirror stopped watching.)

Cupid unfurled his left wing and spread it out and around Strife’s back. Anyone looking would only have seen snow-white feathers covering a black head.

Part 9

2 weeks later

Strife gasped and his eyes flew open. He looked around in terror. HE was here, waiting for him. HE was going to hurt him. Strife whimpered.

Strife looked over and saw his husband lying beside him and relaxed. It had been a bad dream, nothing more. Strife was used to nightmares; he had been having them all his life.

Rolling onto his side, Strife snuggled up next to Cupid. Mmmm, a muscled chest with soft, velvety skin, who could ask for a better pillow. Strife nuzzled Cupid’s chest and raised his head slightly so he could kiss a tempting nipple.

Considerately, Strife stopped. He didn’t want to wake Cupid up…hello; part of Cupid was already waking up. Strife looked up and saw that Cupid’s eyes were open too. The lazy smile he gave Strife made Strife’s heart beat faster. Gods, how much he loved his beautiful husband.

Strife scooched up in the bed and the two gods began to kiss.

“Go back to sleep. You need all the sleep you can get.”

Strife drew back in surprise. Cupid closed his eyes and lay there smiling. Strife lay his head back down and listened until he was sure Cupid was asleep. Carefully, he didn’t want to risk waking Cupid up again, Strife rolled back onto his side.

He lay there frowning and thinking (That can’t be good.), with tears in his eyes, for most of the night.

^^^^^^

The next morning Strife woke up, smiled and turned over to kiss Cupid good morning. Cupid was gone. Strife listened and realized he couldn’t hear him in the bathroom. He sat up in the bed, no longer smiling.

Strife got out of bed and went to the bathroom. (All right, so he drug himself out of bed and staggered to the bathroom.) He was almost glad that Cupid wasn’t there to see him. (Uh huh.) Today was a bad day. He had to sit on the side of the bed for several minutes before his side and back stopped hurting enough so that he could get up. Normally Strife would have to wait for Cupid to go into the bathroom before he got up so that he didn’t see the trouble he had.

Strife went down the hall to the dining room. He was so glad to be back here. (In the temple, not the dining room.) He had been made to stay at Ares and Joxer’s temple for a week and a half before Ace would let him flash home.

Bliss sat at the table, eating and laughing. His nanny had apparently just told a joke. “Hi Daddy Strife.”

“Heya kiddo.” Strife was choked up. It still got to him when Bliss called him daddy.

Strife looked around for Cupid and saw his dirty plate. Strife frowned when he realized that he wouldn’t even get to eat breakfast with his husband…or his son. Bliss finished eating just as Cupid hurried into the room.

“Bye Daddy, bye Daddy Strife.” Bliss kissed Cupid and ran up and kissed Strife on the cheek. He then ran out of the room, eager to start his archery lessons. His nanny raced out after the hyper little boy.

“Good mornin.”

“Morning baby. Sorry I can’t stay, I’ve got this couple I have just got to get together today. See ya later. Love you.” Cupid kissed Strife and ran out before he could say anything. It was a very chaste, unpassionate kiss, also on the cheek. Like Bliss’ had been.

Strife tried to eat, alone, in the empty dining room.

Cupid had been glowing. He’d had that look, that ‘I just had a good time’ look. Strife realized that Cupid had woken up horny, as usual, and had taken care of it by himself in the bathroom. As opposed to taking care of it with him, Strife, his husband.

Strife couldn’t force himself to eat another bite.

^^^^^^

Strife stopped in the doorway of his office and stared. Athena was sitting in one of the arm chairs. Athena?

“I guess ya’re mah babysittah for tha day.” Ever since Tryst’s attack, Strife was not left alone. (Except for when he’s wandering the halls.) There was at least one other god was with him at all times. They thought this would stop Tryst.

Strife knew better.

Athena smiled at him and Strife’s lummox was flummed. (He was flummoxed.) Athena *never* smiled and she hated him. Well, maybe hate was too strong a word. Disinterested. She had never been interested in him in all Strife’s life.

“I am here to keep you safe. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Again Strife was surprised. “Uh, well, I’m gonna give Joxah a baby showah and I’m fixin tha invitations. Ya can help with that if ya wanna.”

Strife handed her one of the completed invitations and waited. He waited for the criticism or the condescension or the offer to redo what he had messed up.

“You have the most beautiful penmanship I have ever seen.”

Well that was unexpected. “Uh, thank ya.”

“I’m serious. I wish I could write half this good.” Athena ran a fingertip over the writing reverently. “There is no way I am going to mess any of these up with my handwriting. What else can I do for you?”

Strife was taken aback. She was serious. He got her started planning decorations and the two of them passed an amazingly pleasant day together.

^^^^^^

3 days later

Strife woke up alone, again. He could hear Cupid in the bathroom moving around. Strife got up and went and stood in the doorway; and there he was. Cupid. His beloved, drop-dead gorgeous husband. Standing there with nothing on and aroused.

Drinking in the sight, (Who wouldn’t.) Strife moved up behind Cupid and put his arms around him. Strife rubbed his hands over every bit of Cupid he could reach and he had *long* arms. Cupid hummed and started squirming happily. Strife lay his head between his husband’s shoulder blades, among the soft feathers of his wings.

That felt so good. He could stay this way forever. He kissed the back of Cupid’s neck, just below the hairline and Cupid shivered. Strife walked around Cupid, keeping his hands on him the whole time, and plastered himself to the front of his body.

Cupid grabbed him and they began kissing. Strife kept running his hands through Cupid’s feathers. They were so soft and felt so good on his body. He reached down and took hold of Cupid’s manhood.

Cupid pulled back abruptly. He stood there licking his lips and staring at Strife. “Sorry baby, I’ve got to hurry or I’ll be late.” Cupid’s voice was rough with arousal, but he turned away and walked over to the tub.

Strife couldn’t believe it. Cupid just walked away from sex. He watched his husband get into the tub and begin bathing. His hands were clenched in fists, tight enough that there was blood dripping from the fingernail gouges in his palms. Strife left the room, shutting the door without a backwards glance.

If he had looked back he would have seen Cupid watching him longingly. He would have seen Cupid close his eyes, remember Strife’s hands on him, and finish what Strife had started to do. He would also have seen a no longer aroused, but disappointed husband.

Cupid never noticed the drops of bright red blood on the tile.

^^^^^^

Strife ran into one of the many rooms in the temple and shut the door behind him. He was crying and leaned against the door for support. He wanted to sit down, but wasn’t sure if he could get back up if he did.

Strife cried.

After a long while, he stood up straight. Strife noticed his bloody hands for the first time and shrugged. Who cared? Holding them as far away from his body as he could, Strife healed them. (Remember the no magic close to his body rule.) When he was done Strife flashed on clean clothes.

Strife looked up and saw himself. There was a full-length mirror across the room. He went and stood in front of it and stared. He looked himself up and down and frowned at what he saw.

What he saw was a tall, skinny, unnaturally pale god. His hair was funny looking and looked ugly stuck straight up like he wore it. Look at those eyes. They were a funny, glittery blue.

Strife knew without his clothes he looked even worse. He still had bruises from HIS last attack.

No wonder Cupid didn’t want to have sex with him anymore.

Strife turned away from the mirror in disgust. He wiped his tear streaked face dry and put his hands over his face. There was a brief glow. When Strife lowered his hands there was no evidence he had been crying. No red eyes, no blotchy skin, nothing.

Like it had never happened.

^^^^^^

Cupid was getting worried. He couldn’t find Strife anywhere. What if Tryst had gotten hold of him?

He sighed in relief when Strife walked into the dining room. Strife didn’t look over at him. “Bliss ya bettah hurry or ya’ll be late fah ya classes.” Strife’s voice was curiously flat.

“I have to go help Mom with a major orgy she’s got planned.”

“Okay, see ya latah then.” With a brief look over at him, Strife left the dining room, without a kiss.

Cupid didn’t notice a small mirror by the door vanishing. Strife had sent it to the room he had just left.

Cupid reached out to stop his husband and hesitated. He followed Strife to his office and could hear Athena talking to him inside.

They could talk later.

^^^^^^

Strife walked into his office and sat down at his desk. Athena was telling him something or other about Joxer’s party. Strife wasn’t listening.

Who knew there were that many mirrors hanging around. He had passed no less than three more coming down the hall. All had been banished to the spare room. There was another one! Strife scowled at the mirror facing his desk.

Gods look at him!

That mirror disappeared as well. The blank wall behind it was more soothing to Strife’s troubled mind.

^^^^^^

The next day

Cupid blinked and looked around. He was in a cave. How in Tartarus did he end up here? There was a flash and he looked over to see his father, looking just as surprised and pissed off as he was.

“What in Hades name are we doing here?” Cupid noticed that Ares was more upset than mad now. He spun around and realized where they were.

The home of The Fates.

Oh crap. Again.

The three women turned from The Tapestry of Life and began speaking in that weird one after another thingy they do. “There is more you need to see.”

“Oh shit.” Cupid couldn’t agree with his father more. Had Strife been hurt more? (Well, duh!)

“Look.” The cave wall shimmered and turned into a huge scrying mirror. The Crone walked over to Cupid and looked up at him. Cupid resisted the urge to step back. “There is pain that only you can help.” He gulped and nodded.

She walked back over to the other two women and waited. The Mother stepped forward, “Be warned, we cannot keep interfering.”

“You will be able to walk among them, like you were actually there. In reality you will be here with us, until we send you on.” The Maiden looked over at Cupid and Ares. They both nodded, unsure what they were agreeing to.

“Let it begin.” Each woman spoke one word and everything changed. One minute they were in the cavern, the next minute they were in an office. Ares’ office to be exact. (He calls it a war room.) The two men could see and talk to each other, but their hands went through the furniture.

For better or worse, they were going to be observers here.

Part 10

Strife darted into the room, his arms straight down at his sides and his hands clenched into fists. He inched behind the door and stood there waiting. A shadow came to the door and stopped. Strife held his breath. After a few seconds the shadow went on and Strife relaxed back against the wall. Pushing away from the wall he walked across the room.

“I can do this, I can do this.” Strife passed by an invisible Cupid and sat down on the edge of Ares’ desk. “I just need ta calm down.” Strife crossed his arms, hands still clenched, and rocked back and forth.

Cupid and Ares looked on in worry. Strife was so agitated his body was practically humming. Being this upset wasn’t good for him or the baby. But there was nothing they could do, because technically they weren’t even there.

After a minute Strife grimaced and made himself stop rocking. He uncrossed his arms and grabbed hold of the edge of the desk. “I am not gonna ruin Joxah’s baby showah.” Strife nodded decisively as his fingernails made furrows in the wooden desk.

“Everthin will be all right. I’ll just stay in heah for a little while and then go back out theah all calm.” Strife slid off the desk and began to pace. Unknowingly, he walked between his husband and his uncle.

He paced agitatedly between the two gods. Back and forth he went; turning so fast that his loose tunic swung out around him in an arc. He put a shaky hand over his mouth to stop his trembling lips.

“Okay maybe I bettah stop now, cause I’m makin mahself dizzy.” Strife proved this was true by swaying alarmingly. Both men reached for Strife, but couldn’t catch him. (Well, duh!) He bent over with his hands on his thighs, trying not to fall on his face as the world got gray and fuzzy. To Strife it was like a thick piece of dusty gauze was put over his face.

Strife straightened up and reached over to lean on the desk. Unfortunately, the desk was several inches past his hand. Strife started to tilt over and would have fallen if fate hadn’t intervened. (Actually it was The Fates.)

Cupid and Ares both automatically reached out to catch him. This time their hands, just barely, touched something. It was enough support and kept Strife upright as he stumbled over to the desk and plopped back down. “Ow, that hurt.” He rubbed his bottom lightly.

“Thank you ladies.” Cupid looked around the room. “Thank you for letting me help him.”

“You are welcome.” The disembodied voices echoed in the room.

Cupid looked back over at his husband who was still rubbing his bottom. “What’s up with that?” He looked at his father who looked just as concerned and puzzled as he was.

“Uh oh.” Strife turned a decidedly green color and he magicked up a big bowl.

He hunched over the bowl, one arm wrapped around his bad ribs and moaned. “Oh please, not taday. I really don’t wanna puke taday. I know, I’ll do that ‘take a coupla deep breaths’ thingy.” Strife took a really deep breath. He gasped and dropped his bowl as he clutched at his ribs. “Bad idea.”

Strife sat hunched over for a few minutes. He slowly sat back up and grimaced again. Cupid thought he was in more pain. He was, just not the kind of pain Cupid thought.

Strife was staring over Cupid’s shoulder. Ares and Cupid turned to see what Strife was frowning at. Neither one of them saw anything upsetting.

“How come I nevah noticed how many mirrahs theah are everywheah?” Strife snarled at the offending object and raised his hand to get rid of it. After a few seconds he relaxed. “Oh yeah, I’m at Unc and Joxah’s, I can’t move it.” He turned his body slightly so he couldn’t see himself.

Strife laughed. “It’s probably a good thing anyway; that room is gettin kinda full.”

“All these mirrahs have got ta be Dite’s fault. Or Apollo’s maybe. They both like lookin at themselves.” He got up and began to pace again. “Eithah that or it’s punishment for us ugly ones.”

^^^^^^

Cupid was stupefied. Ugly!? Where in Tartarus did he get the idea he was ugly?

Cupid raked his eyes over his husband’s gorgeous body. Long and lean with that wild hair and oh god, his amazing blue eyes.

He felt himself becoming aroused and squashed the feeling down purposely. He couldn’t do that right now.

^^^^^^

Strife almost kicked the bowl he had dropped and he started to pick it up. He remembered at the last second, when his ribs reminded him, not to do that. With a wave of his hand the bowl disappeared. It was then that Strife noticed the gouge marks he had made on the desk.

“Great. Not only was I sittin on Unc’s desk, now I’ve scratched it up.” He moved his hand and the marks vanished. “He’s gonna blast me inta next week.” Strife rubbed a hand across his stomach. “Well maybe he’ll wait til I have tha baby before he does that.”

Strife smiled. A sad little smile.

He heard somebody walk by the open door. Both men watched as he stiffened up. They were both wondering what was going on. What had happened?

Strife slumped and sat back down on the desk. He closed his eyes and began rocking again.

“Strife.”

Strife yelped and jumped. Cupid and Ares jumped as well. They didn’t yelp. They were *manly* gods after all. (Yeah, right.) They had been concentrating on Strife so hard that they didn’t hear Joxer come in.

“Oops.”

“I’m tellin in ya Joxah, a bell would look really good on ya.” Strife smiled at his friend.

Joxer walked into the room and sat down on the couch. (All right. I know. He’s over 8 months pregnant. Really he waddled in and eased himself down. But Joxer’s just too cute to waddle.) He looked his friend up and down and frowned at what he saw.

“That doesn’t look very comfortable,” he indicated the desk. “Why don’t you come over here and sit by me.” Joxer gestured and then patted the seat beside himself when Strife hesitated. “Come on.”

Strife walked over and sat down with a heartfelt sigh. “Ya’re right this is a lot bettah.” He closed his eyes and tried to relax. “So, how come ya’re in heah and not out theah at yar party?”

“I just wanted to get away for a little bit.” Joxer turned to Strife. “I love my party.” He hastened to assure his easily hurt friend. “It’s just that, well…don’t get me wrong, I love them…” Joxer looked at the open door. “…well maybe love is too strong…like…anyway, they can be a little…”

“Overwhelmin?”

“Yeah. You too?”

Strife nodded. “Yeah.” Strife hesitated, giving his friend a sidelong glance. “Ya know this has been tha strangest week ah mah life.”

“Strange? How?”

Strife considered a minute. “Everybody treats me different.”

Cupid and Ares both stiffened up at this information and started to growl. Ares looked over at his husband and gasped. This caught Cupid’s attention.

Sweet, loving Joxer, the God of *Peace*, was scowling. His eyes were narrowed and practically spitting fire.

“How are they treating you different?” Joxer’s voice sounded so calm; in complete contrast to his visage.

Strife wasn’t fooled. He looked up at his friend and quickly put out a placating hand. “No, calm down. Not different bad, just different. They’re bein…nice ta me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Joxer still looked angry. Only now he was angry at Tryst and everybody else who had treated Strife so badly that he was uncomfortable when people were *nice* to him.

“Nah, just weird.” Strife chewed on his lip, thinking. “People are friendly.”

“As opposed to nice?”

“Yeah. Too friendly, if ya know what I mean.”

“Oh…I see.”

“Joxah I tell ya, I’ve had more propositions in tha last week than I evah had in mah entire life.”

“Oh really, just how many offers have you had?”

Strife twisted his wedding ring nervously. Cupid noticed that the ring slid loosely on his finger. “Nine.”

Joxer blinked in surprise. Ares’ mouth fell open. Cupid’s eyes started glowing a bright green. (Uh oh.)

“Actually I’ve been propositioned more in tha last coupla hours than evah before.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re a pregnant, happily married god,” Joxer noticed that Strife flinched at the happily married comment, “at a *baby shower* and you’ve been hit on?” Strife nodded. “How many times?”

Strife cleared his throat and blushed a bright red. “Four.”

“Four? Wow! I’m impressed.” He turned and looked through the doorway, considering. “Geez, I’d hate to think of who in *that* crowd would be hitting on you.”

“I’m not sure…but I think Hermes was probably jokin when he asked me if I wanted ta *really* learn how ta fly.” Strife blushed and looked down at the floor. It sounded so stupid when he said it; he had misunderstood Hermes and was making a *complete* fool of himself.

“Don’t count on it. Hermes might be a liar, but he’s always up for sex.” Joxer rolled his eyes and said, “No pun intended.”

Strife had to think a minute before he realized what Joxer was talking about. He snorted softly and thought maybe he hadn’t been wrong after all.

“Is he the one who upset you so much?”

“What are ya talkin about Joxah?”

“Strife, a few minutes ago you bolted out of that room like you had been shot with one of Cupid’s arrows. Obviously someone or something upset you. So was it Hermes?”

“Nah, he came ovah way early in tha party.” Joxer just waited.

“Tha one that was really kinda creepy was…Poseidon.”

“Poseidon?!” Strife nodded. Joxer thought of the *huge* god and gulped.

“Yeah. He was talkin ta me and all I could think of was, holy crap.” Strife shuddered and grimaced in pain. “Luckily he backed off gracefully when I said, no thanks. Not like…”

“Hmm, let’s see, a god who wouldn’t back off. Who could that have been? Let me think. Oh, I know, Apollo!” Strife blinked at Joxer’s sarcasm.

“You too, huh.”

“Oh yeah.”

^^^^^^

Ares was boiling. People were hitting on Strife, a very emotionally and physically vulnerable Strife. The same gods who wouldn’t talk to him 3 weeks ago now wanted to get into his pants!

Apollo had been coming on to his husband for god only knows how long. Ares growled low under his breath.

“Apollo is a dead man.” Ares nodded at his son.

Cupid was so agitated that his wings were spread out behind his body and vibrating like mad. Several feathers were flying through the air; loosened by his flapping and kept floating in the air.

“Cupid, calm down or they’ll never let us go to our husbands.” (The God of War trying to calm somebody down. What’s the world coming to?)

Cupid knew his father was right; The Fates were fickle. Besides he wanted to help his spouse. So far nothing seemed to indicate why Strife was so upset; disgusted maybe, but not upset.

^^^^^^

“Actually three ah tha nine times were by Apollo.”

“Yeah, Apollo is not really known for taking *no* for an answer. You have to be firm.” Joxer smiled wolfishly.

Strife blinked at the alien expression on his friend’s face. “Oh, yeah. How do ya do that?”

“I’ll tell you, you…” Joxer gestured Strife closer and whispered in his ear. Strife’s eyes popped out of his head. (Not really, because that would just be disgusting.) He leaned back at looked at his *innocent* friend.

“Wow. Now, I’m impressed.”

“Thank you.” He grinned at Strife smugly. “Trust me. You do that and he’ll leave you alone, way alone.” Joxer smirked. “Or if you want, I can take care of it for you.” He laughed at the thought. “Nowadays Apollo flashes out so fast when he sees me it’s not even funny.”

Strife smiled at that and Cupid sat down hard. He realized that he hadn’t seen his husband smile in at least a week. Had he done that?

“Tha weirdest was when ya hit on me.”

Ares and Cupid’s heads both snapped up in surprise at that bit of information. “What?” Luckily neither Joxer nor Strife could hear the jealously in their husband’s voices. (Actually it might have done Strife some good.)

Joxer looked bemused. “Really? Funny, I don’t remember that and I think that’s something I would remember doing.”

“Yeah, well it was almost you. Albeit a you with blond hair and a…Spanish? accent.”

“Ah, Jayce. Yes, he his accent is Spanish.”

“Buy ya’ll ain’t from Spain. Has he evah been theah?”

“Nope, not that I know of.”

“Okay…whatevah.” Strife let it drop. He certainly knew about odd relatives. “Anyway he didn’t really hit on me; more like he made an observation.”

When Strife didn’t go on, Joxer prodded him. “An observation?”

Strife blushed again. “He said that I looked delicious and he wanted ta lick warm honey from mah body.” Strife was bright red now.

So was Cupid for that matter, just not for the same reasons. Ares had a firm grip on his son and it was a good thing, otherwise Cupid would have gone after Jayce. (He wouldn’t have gotten far. Don’t forget he’s still in The Fates cave.)

“Course he was all wistful then, cause I’m ‘happily married and he’d never be able ta do it’.” Strife had still been twisting his wedding ring. Now he let go of it and instead started playing with the arm of the couch.

“I’m sorry if he upset you; that’s just Jayce’s way of talking to people.”

“That ain’t it.” Strife frowned. “I was flattered. At first, I thought that it sounded messy and then, and then I thought about Cupid doin it.” Strife closed his eyes and smiled dreamily. All three other gods watched him and smiled on their own.

“That’s when I got upset. Cause I realized it ain’t evah gonna happen.” Strife was practically whispering and had started to pull threads out of the arm of the couch. (Let’s face it, an upset Strife is bad on the furniture.)

^^^^^^

Cupid couldn’t understand what Strife was talking about. Why in Tartarus did he think the honey thing would never happen?

Cupid ran a hand across his mouth, checking for drool. He was seriously going to hurt Jayce, but wow, he couldn’t stop picturing Strife laid out covered with honey. That was sooooo going to happen as soon as Strife could handle it.

He looked over at his sad and depressed husband.

I’ve gotta do something to cheer him up. But what? (Well, duh!)

^^^^^^

“Why wouldn’t it ever happen?”

Strife looked up, surprised at the question. He hadn’t intended to say that last part out loud. Pasting on a fake smile, Strife waved a hand airily. “Oh nothin. Come on we need ta get ya back ta tha party.”

He started to get up, but only got half-way there when Joxer took hold of his arm to stop him. “Wait…” Joxer never got to finish what he was going to say, because as soon as he touched his friend’s arm Strife cried out, jerking it back and clutching it to his chest. “Oh gods, did I hurt you?”

Strife flopped back down on the couch and tried to reassure his friend. “No, ya didn’t do anythin.”

Over Strife’s protests, Joxer took hold of his left arm and gently pulled his sleeve back. Everyone but Strife was horrified at what they saw. His arm, from elbow to wrist was one huge bruise.

“What happened?”

“I just hurt mah arm this mornin is all. It’s no big deal.” Strife sounded so depressed, like he didn’t care that he was hurt at all.

Next Part

“Tha weirdest was when ya hit on me.”

Ares and Cupid’s heads both snapped up in surprise at that bit of information. “What?” Luckily neither Joxer nor Strife could hear the jealously in their husband’s voices. (Actually it might have done Strife some good.)

Joxer looked bemused. “Really? Funny, I don’t remember that and I think that’s something I would remember doing.”

“Yeah, well it was almost you. Albeit a you with blond hair and a…Spanish? accent.”

“Ah, Jayce. Yes, he his accent is Spanish.”

“Buy ya’ll ain’t from Spain. Has he evah been theah?”

“Nope, not that I know of.”

“Okay…whatevah.” Strife let it drop. He certainly knew about odd relatives. “Anyway he didn’t really hit on me; more like he made an observation.”

When Strife didn’t go on, Joxer prodded him. “An observation?”

Strife blushed again. “He said that I looked delicious and he wanted ta lick warm honey from mah body.” Strife was bright red now.

So was Cupid for that matter, just not for the same reasons. Ares had a firm grip on his son and it was a good thing, otherwise Cupid would have gone after Jayce. (He wouldn’t have gotten far. Don’t forget he’s still in The Fates cave.)

“Course he was all wistful then, cause I’m ‘happily married and he’d never be able ta do it’.” Strife had still been twisting his wedding ring. Now he let go of it and instead started playing with the arm of the couch.

“I’m sorry if he upset you; that’s just Jayce’s way of talking to people.”

“That ain’t it.” Strife frowned. “I was flattered. At first, I thought that it sounded messy and then, and then I thought about Cupid doin it.” Strife closed his eyes and smiled dreamily. All three other gods watched him and smiled on their own.

“That’s when I got upset. Cause I realized it ain’t evah gonna happen.” Strife was practically whispering and had started to pull threads out of the arm of the couch. (Let’s face it, an upset Strife is bad on the furniture.)

^^^^^^

Cupid couldn’t understand what Strife was talking about. Why in Tartarus did he think the honey thing would never happen?

Cupid ran a hand across his mouth, checking for drool. He was seriously going to hurt Jayce, but wow, he couldn’t stop picturing Strife laid out covered with honey. That was sooooo going to happen as soon as Strife could handle it.

He looked over at his sad and depressed husband.

I’ve gotta do something to cheer him up. But what? (Well, duh!)

^^^^^^

“Why wouldn’t it ever happen?”

Strife looked up, surprised at the question. He hadn’t intended to say that last part out loud. Pasting on a fake smile, Strife waved a hand airily. “Oh nothin. Come on we need ta get ya back ta tha party.”

He started to get up, but only got half-way there when Joxer took hold of his arm to stop him. “Wait…” Joxer never got to finish what he was going to say, because as soon as he touched his friend’s arm Strife cried out, jerking it back and clutching it to his chest. “Oh gods, did I hurt you?”

Strife flopped back down on the couch and tried to reassure his friend. “No, ya didn’t do anythin.”

Over Strife’s protests, Joxer took hold of his left arm and gently pulled his sleeve back. Everyone but Strife was horrified at what they saw. His arm, from elbow to wrist was one huge bruise.

“What happened?”

“I just hurt mah arm this mornin is all. It’s no big deal.” Strife sounded so depressed, like he didn’t care that he was hurt at all.

Next Part