rozen from the momentary shock of Xena's words, Joxer stared at the point of her sword, so close to his face. How the fuck had she known he wasn't the Joxer from this world, and how could he explain this?

"Xena! What're you doing?" Now wide-awake, Gabrielle stared at the scene before her in confusion and shock. "That is Joxer!"

Xena remained silent, never taking her eyes off the man at her feet.

Joxer realized Xena wouldn't wait long for him to answer her question. He had to make this fast and good. Even if Gabrielle still believed he was their Joxer, somehow Xena knew for certain that he wasn't. Thinking quickly, he examined and discarded a number of ideas. Of course he had a couple backup plans for being discovered, but they wouldn't work here.

He knew his counterpart had two twins and claiming to be one of them, depending on what situation he found himself in, had been the main plan he'd counted on being able to use, but now he couldn't. Lying at all would be pointless. Xena saw through his deception the first time and he didn't doubt for a second that she'd figure out any lie he came up with. No, he realized he needed to resort to what he did best, truth laced with omission and misinformation.

"I am Joxer, just not the one from this world. Your Joxer is in mine," he said calmly. "Wanna get this outta my face now?" Placing a finger on the tip of the sword, he gave it a slight nudge, raising an eyebrow at Xena.

At first she didn't move, regarding him through narrowed eyes. Then she took a step back, lowering her sword just enough for him to have some breathing space. "Explain that," she ordered.

Shrugging, Joxer stretched his legs out in front of him, resting his weight back on his hands. "Just what I said. A few days ago he came tumbling out the vortex and I found him."

"You're from the Sovereign's world?" Gabrielle asked warily, staff now held at the ready.

"Who?" Joxer frowned, then remembered his counterpart mentioning something about that. "Oh, that place. Nope."

"There's other worlds out there? Which one are you from? What's it like?" Curiosity overcame her caution and she took a couple steps towards him.

Nice. Her friend was missing and she worried about something like that. "Real touching you know," he said sarcastically. "I mean, how concerned you are about Joxer and all."

"Is he all right?" Xena asked, drawing his attention away from Gabrielle, who looked highly offended.

"Yeah. I left him with a few people I trust. He'll be okay."

"Why are you here and not him?"

"It got complicated. Look," Joxer sighed, "you're not gonna kill me so why don't you put that thing away, huh?"

After a moment or two she nodded and stepped back from him, lowering the sword completely but not sheathing it.

"Thanks," he said without any real gratitude, knowing that if at any time she were to perceive him as an immediate threat, she'd still try to incapacitate him. "Anyway, I'm here to see Ares."

"Ares!" Gabrielle said in shock, looking around like she thought he would suddenly appear.

"What does he have to do with this?" Xena asked.

Joxer remembered his counterpart saying that he'd kept his relationship with Ares a secret. Well, no need to reveal it now. "Dunno. Discord tossed Joxer through the vortex, so I figured Ares would be the best one to ask about that. I mean, she works for him and I wouldn't get any straight answers outta her." It was the truth -- in a roundabout way.

Xena nodded. "So why pretend to be Joxer?"

Another shrug. "I don't know this world. It seemed the easiest way to get by until I found Ares." Again, a partial truth.

"Then he's the God of War on your world?" Gabrielle asked.

"Yeah. The people are all basically the same there; it's just the world itself that's different. Okay?" He knew he'd have to do the question and answer thing later, but right now he wanted to get moving.

"Why did you leave Joxer in your world?" Suspicion still shown in Xena's expression.

"I don't know if he's in danger here and I'm not bringing him back here just to have him get killed. That might make me pretty dead too, you know." Playing it self-centered seemed the best way to go. He suspected it would make his story more believable.

Xena remained silent for a few seconds, her expression unreadable, then finally she spoke, "Gabrielle, get me the rope out of the saddlebags."

Joxer didn't protest when Xena ordered him to stand and then had the bard tie his hands behind his back. He'd expected something like this, although it did suck. Getting tied up without getting laid in the bargain went against his nature.

Once he'd been bound, Xena sheathed her sword and took away the badly made one he carried as part of his counterpart's costume. Then she searched him for more weapons. Not that he minded. He didn't have anything concealed but he wouldn't pass up a chance to be felt up by Xena on any world. He couldn't quite keep the smirk off his face when she leaned in to check under his armor, and he got an excellent view right down the front of her outfit. She ignored him and concluded her search quickly.

"The Halls of War are only a couple days from here," Xena said once she finished. "We can find Ares there and ask him about Discord."

He nodded in seeming agreement, but he'd never let it happen like that. He couldn't have Ares see him tied up. Xena and Gabrielle would never keep their Joxer bound while they traveled and Ares would immediately realize that the Joxer he knew wasn't present. This whole journey would be pointless unless he could get Ares to believe, just for a few seconds, that he was this world's Joxer. He needed to see Ares' reaction to him, that would tell him everything he needed to know about the situation here.

To do that he'd have to ditch Xena and her sidekick at some point. But he'd have to time it right. Too soon and she might ruin it all by hurrying ahead and reaching the Halls of War first, inadvertently letting Ares in on it all. Relegated to mortal means of travel by not using his powers, Joxer knew there was a good chance that Xena could beat him there, so he'd just have to stay with her until the last possible minute.

"Hey," he drew her attention as she stored his sword in one of the saddlebags. "How'd you know I wasn't your Joxer?" He really wanted to know where he'd slipped up, although he suspected it was when she'd caught him staring at Gabrielle with open hunger earlier. This world's Joxer would never do that.

Mounting Argo, Xena looked down at him expressionlessly. "He sings better than you." Then she turned the mare towards the road and set off at a walk.

Ouch. Joxer almost winced at that assessment. No wonder his followers back home tended to disappear whenever he got in a musical mood.

Gabrielle motioned with her staff, indicating that he should follow Xena. Joxer obeyed without comment and Gabrielle followed behind him, muttering under her breath about missing breakfast and starving to death.

Oh yeah, traveling would be a real laugh today.

A few hours later, Joxer had started to compile a mental list of ways to kill annoying blondes.

Once Gabrielle stopped complaining about not eating, she began questioning him about his world. At first he hadn't minded too much. It was a way to pass the time, take his mind off the growing heat of the day and the discomfort of his bound wrists while he walked, and anyway, he certainly preferred it to hearing one of her stories. But she wanted to know every little detail and eventually that got on his nerves.

He still had to make sure he didn't slip back into his normal way of talking. Xena might recognize the manner of speech, so he couldn't risk it. But trying to do that and answer Gabrielle's endless questions was starting to become pretty damn trying. He could only tell her so much without revealing what exactly he did on his world, but she wouldn't quit and he was running out of ways to skirt the issue, short of telling her to shut up anyway.

It was still in his best interest to play nice with these two. Let them think that even if he wasn't quite harmless, then at least he didn't present a threat to them in particular. That meant no snapping at the sidekick, and certainly no decapitating her -- although just cutting out her tongue sounded so lovely at the moment.

Now riding beside them on the road, Xena hadn't said anything while her friend prattled on with question after question. Joxer knew she listened closely to his replies though so he thought them all out carefully, making sure to say nothing that would make her suspicious. He'd underestimated her once and it wouldn't happen again.

Then Gabrielle asked him a question he didn't know how to answer. "Before, when you mentioned Discord, you sounded like you know her. How?"

Of course he couldn't tell them the truth, but even a partial truth wouldn't work here. He could say that he served Ares, but then Xena would consider him a true enemy and then she'd keep him under extremely close scrutiny. He wouldn't be able to get away from her without revealing what he was and he had to avoid using his powers. If the other gods sensed his presence, not only would it all be over, but some of them might also come after him. They wouldn't welcome a foreign god in their world.

He struggled to find a good answer to the question. He couldn't remain silent without arousing suspicion, and he wouldn't lie to Xena anymore. So where did that leave him?

Suddenly he stopped, all thoughts of that little dilemma forgotten. He heard Gabrielle beside him asking what was wrong but he ignored her, still trying to figure that out for himself.

There was something, pulling at him, for lack of a better description. It seemed so familiar, just on the edge of his senses, but he couldn't quite pin it down. Looking around he saw nothing in the trees lining the road and only a lone dark cloud sat in the blue sky in the distance -- except...that wasn't a cloud and suddenly he knew what he felt.

"There's a battle up ahead," he said aloud, excitement rushing through him. Somewhere up the road, out of sight at the moment, a town was burning and people were fighting and dying. He could feel it -- which he didn't get.

Sure, a battle always drew him in. He was one of the gods of aggression. It went with the territory. But it had never practically yanked him off his feet before. He wondered what made this battle so different.

To his left Xena reigned in Argo beside him and scanned the horizon closely. Trees obscured the line of sight but after a few moments she nodded. "It has to be that raiding party we were tracking. I think we still might be able to stop them before they destroy the whole town. C'mon!" She urged Argo into a gallop.

"Wait," Joxer said before Gabrielle could take off after her.

"What?" she asked impatiently. "We have to help those people!"

"Untie me." He demanded. "You want me wandering around the place defenseless or something?" he demanded when she hesitated.

"Fine." She sighed, quickly undoing his bonds. "But you make one wrong move and I'll knock you flat. Got it?"

"No prob." Yeah. Right. He wanted to see her try it.

"Move!" She pushed him forward, ignoring the glare he gave her for it.

She stayed behind him as they ran after Xena. A good move on Gabrielle's part seeing that Joxer wanted nothing more than to cause her to have a little "accident." If she'd been in front of him he doubted he would've resisted the impulse.

Within a minute or so he could hear the clash of weapons, screams of the dying, of frightened women and children, and the smell of the town burning soon permeated the air. Joxer couldn't stop the grin of anticipation that rose to his lips as he ran faster, eager to reach the fighting itself. He hadn't gotten in the middle a good battle in weeks and he couldn't wait to cut a few throats now. Sure, he'd have to be careful not to kill anyone whose counterpart held some important position in his world, but there had to be a few mortals here who were nothing but worthless peasants back home.

By the time he reached the town he was almost too worked up to stand still, but he forced himself not to rush into things. Staying on the edge of the conflict for a few moments, he studied everything around him. This intense excitement that gripped him wasn't normal but he'd worry about it later, once the battle ended.

He saw that thankfully he'd left Gabrielle far behind. She wouldn't catch up for a few minutes. He caught sight of Xena over by a burning house, working her way through a number of the men attacking the town, mercenaries by the look of them. Glancing around he saw more of them setting fire to other buildings, looting houses, raping and murdering their way around the town. Now this looked like good time waiting to happen.

Making a mental note to try not to kill too many of the townspeople, Joxer walked into the chaos.

Normally, even in a small conflict like this, he'd have a job to do. Ares would give him an assignment: keep such-and-such building from getting torched, or make sure warlord so-and-so doesn't get a pitchfork in the ass from some peasant, but now he had nothing -- no guidance, no responsibilities, just whatever he wanted to do.

The sounds of battle were loud but not distracting, at least not to Joxer; smoke stung his eyes and everywhere around him mortals ran like stampeding cattle. Most of them were townspeople trying to escape, but occasionally he saw one of the mercenaries. The next time one passed close by, Joxer grabbed him.

"What the fu--" The mortal's words died as Joxer gripped his throat hard, nearly choking him.

Studying the man's face closely, Joxer sighed in disappointment. "You're a warlord in my world," he muttered to himself, his voice too low to be heard over the din around them.

Grabbing the dagger tucked into the man's belt, Joxer dropped him and walked away and looked for someone safe to kill. Two more mercenaries later he still hadn't gotten lucky and he could see that Gabrielle had finally shown up. She was busy holding off a number of attackers and doing a good job of it. At least she had some talent somewhere.

Tucking away another dagger he'd pulled off the last man he grabbed, Joxer looked around in growing frustration. So far he'd managed to find three mortals that turned out to be either warlords or priests in his world. This sucked.

Suddenly someone ran into him, nearly knocking him over. Getting a grip on the mortal before he could run off, Joxer got his balance back and looked at the man he held by the arm.

"Let me go! I have to find my wife and son!" the man demanded, trying to pull away.

The guy wasn't one of the mercenaries but he had muscle and if Joxer had been mortal he probably couldn't have held on. But he maintained his grip, taking a closer look. Blond hair, brown eyes; the guy looked very familiar. Then it clicked.

"You're Discord's new fuck-toy back home," he said with a wide grin.

"What?" The man frowned.

"Don't worry about it. Just look at it this way: you've made my day." Then Joxer yanked the mortal forward -- right onto the dagger he held in his other hand. "You know, I just wish I could be there right now to see that bitch's face when her little pet up and dies on her. Hey, maybe he'll actually be on her when he buys it. Wouldn't that be awesome?" He giggled. Looking at the man's face, Joxer realized he was talking to a corpse.

Pushing the dead mortal away, he wiped the dagger on his pants before moving on find someone else, his mood now almost...bubbly for a change. Nothing like the weakness he'd felt these past few days.

He'd just felt so damned mortal since coming here; tired, thirsty and just plain uncomfortable, which shouldn't have happened. Even suppressing his powers he still should've felt like he always did, like a god. And now he finally felt normal. Hades, more than normal! He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this good -- or this powerful, even on his world. It was like he could do anything, take on anyone, or any god. In fact--

Joxer stopped, frowning as a suspicion crossed his mind. He didn't try looking for anything in the minor riot going on around him, he just tried to feel it, reaching out with his senses, searching. After a few moments he had his suspicion confirmed. He was the only god anywhere near here. And that's what made this battle so different from every other one he'd been at.

Like all the other gods he drew some of his power from his worshipers, but there were other sources as well. He stood in the middle of one now.

He remembered Ares once giving him a big, long lecture on the excess energy produced during conflicts and how the gods of aggression redirected and processed it, or some crap like that. As far as Joxer was concerned it was all just a bunch of bad vibes and they fed off it. It worked out the same. Of course simplifying it like that really annoyed Ares, but that was half the point.

In every other battle he'd been though, even the smallest one, there'd been another god there with him. Usually more than one. So he'd never had the chance to channel -- as he thought of it -- all this energy by himself. What a total rush! When he got home he'd have to go find some minor stuff like this to go soak up.

At least now he had a good idea why he'd felt like shit since coming to this world. Without his worshippers or a battle to hang out in, he'd been running off whatever power he had naturally, what he'd been born with. Sure, it still made him a god, but a very weak one. Well, at least this little battle would keep him wired for a while.

With a shrug, Joxer turned his attention back to having some fun. Grabbing the nearest mercenary that got too close to him, he made sure the mortal wasn't anyone important back home, then cut the man's throat. Senseless slaughter; what fun.

Unfortunately the fighting seemed to be winding down. Not surprising with Xena on the scene, but disappointing all the same. Still, Joxer figured he could squeeze in a few more pointless murders before things really quieted down. Spotting another insignificant mercenary, he headed towards the man, thinking a nice evisceration would look good.

"Joxer, duck!"

He thought he recognized the voice but didn't have time to look for the source before he hit the ground, a body flying over his head. The mortal -- one of the mercenaries -- landed in a pile of unconscious men that hadn't been there a few minutes ago.

What the fuck was going on? Xena sure didn't toss people around like that.

"That was a nice move. Our Joxer would've gotten smacked in the head and knocked out." Gabrielle stood beside him, offering him a hand up.

He ignored it as he got to his feet, tucking his dagger away before she could see it. She wasn't the one he'd heard call out the warning, so what was up? And why had she stopped fighting? There were still plenty of mercenaries to go around.

Suddenly she gasped in warning, raising her staff. Turning, Joxer saw the sword swinging down at him. Easily catching the arm of the man who held it, he snapped the bone with little effort, stopping the blow, and then he took hold of the mortal's throat. With Gabrielle standing there he couldn't kill the mercenary, but maybe she wouldn't object to a bit of torture. He began to slowly cut off the airway, driving the big man to his knees.

"What are you doing?" Gabrielle demanded in horror. Damn. So much for a bit of entertainment.

"Just putting him out," he replied simply, glancing at her with a smile -- one that died when he saw behind her.

Things were really winding down now and the patches of fighting that remained were clearly visible. Like the one not too far from them where Hercules and Iolaus stood back-to-back, dispatching the mercenaries quickly.

Joxer couldn't control his reaction to the sight of them. Maybe if he'd had some warning, but not like this. The hatred and jealousy overcame him in seconds, blinding him to everything but the thought of getting his hands on Hercules, dismembering him, making sure the bastard would never take Iolaus from him again--

A hard slap across his face brought him out of it. At first he almost killed whoever struck him, then he focused on Xena standing in front of him and realized she'd stopped him from doing something incredibly stupid. Yeah, that was Hercules and Iolaus, but not the ones from his world.

Absorbing all this energy apparently had a downside. It spiked his emotions way out of proportion. He'd almost blown everything. As things stood now, he'd still have some explaining to do.

"He's dead," Xena informed him expressionlessly, indicating the mortal he still held by the throat, his grip crushing.

Okay, make that a lot of explaining to do. "Oops." He shrugged and dropped the man.

"Why did you untie him?" she asked Gabrielle.

"He said he didn't want to be defenseless." Gabrielle looked at him with a mixture of caution and disgust and...something else. Interesting. He'd have to explore that last one.

"I doubt he's ever defenseless. Keep an eye on him," Xena ordered, then turned to walk over to Hercules and Iolaus who were watching the scene curiously.

Joxer realized then that he'd lost track of some time. Focused on the the two men, he'd been oblivious to what went on around him. Not good. "What'd I miss?" he asked cheerfully, smiling at the blond beside him.

"What did...you killed that man!" Gabrielle accused, pointing at the body on the ground.

"Yeah. Besides that."

She just stared at him a moment, then shook her head in disbelief. "How can you just murder someone like that?"

"Um...I squeezed too hard?" he replied helpfully.

Making a wordless sound of frustration and anger, she suddenly swung her staff, stopping it just before it made contact with his head. He didn't flinch, just watched her calmly.

"How many other people did you kill?" she demanded.

He gave it some thought. "I lost track," he finally had to admit. "Not that many though." Unfortunately, he added silently.

"How can you be so...callous about it?" She looked confused and angry as she glared at him.

"I wouldn't make it on my world if I wasn't. I'm not your Joxer, you know. I didn't grow up like him. I didn't do the same things, hang with the same crowd or any of that shit that makes you who you are. Know what I mean?" Joxer almost winced. He'd slipped there. A touch of his normal speech had crept in.

Fortunately Gabrielle didn't seem to notice. She still looked angry, but now more thoughtful than confused. Good. He'd tossed that comment out just to see how she reacted to it.

The Gabrielle he knew on his world responded to things this one didn't. Probably because of their very different experiences in life. He needed to find things that worked with this Gabrielle.

"That makes sense," she agreed, but cautiously "I suppose if you were raised differently then you'd have different morals and beliefs."

How nice that she could state the completely obvious. "You're gonna blame me for it?" He tapped the staff near his head pointedly.

Now looking troubled, she lowered it. "No, I guess not. But...that doesn't mean you can't learn something else. Just because you're raised one way doesn't mean you're stuck like that all your life. You can change. If you want to." Her tone sounded hopeful.

Joxer smiled, managing to keep the amusement he felt out of it. "Yeah, I know. But, see, the thing is, I don't want to. I'm happy the way I am."

She gave him a look of complete incomprehension. "How...how can you not want to change? How can you want to keep being a murderer?"

It was so much more complicated than that, but he couldn't explain it now. Besides, he didn't care if she understood or not. Time to check a suspicion he had.

Still smiling, he stepped closer, into her personal space. She stayed her ground but definitely looked uncomfortable. "You've killed before," he observed. That much he could tell from the look in her eyes, the lack of innocence that the Gabrielle on his world still possessed. "It hurt you a lot, didn't it?" He let his smile turn sympathetic.

She seemed a bit confused at the sudden topic change and his abrupt mood shift, but nodded anyway.

"Was it an accident?"

"No. I--I made the choice and I killed her." Her gaze left him and focused on the ground to his left as she spoke.

He wanted her to look at him though, needed to see her eyes. So he reached out and gently brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek, liking the smooth feel of her skin despite the soot covering it. The unexpected contact served its purpose. Her eyes met his and he let his smile soften some.

"Killing's usually hard the first time," he said. Well, not his first time of course, but that was a different story. Maybe he'd torment her with it later. For the moment he continued lightly stroking her cheek, fighting back a smirk at the way such a simple motion seemed to keep her calm. "But it gets easier after that. You'll see. One of these days something'll happen and you'll kill again, and it won't be so hard, won't hurt as much. And each time you do it it'll hurt even less. Pretty soon it won't hurt at all. Then one day you're gonna look around and find out you can't remember all the people you killed, and better yet, you won't care, 'cause by then you'll love it."

Gabrielle looked absolutely horrified now, but interestingly enough she didn't pull away from him. "I'd never do that," she finally responded in a whisper.

"You don't know that. It kinda creeps up on you, you know. You never see it coming." Suddenly Joxer dropped his hand with a shrug. "But, hey, maybe you're right, maybe you'll be different. So why worry about it, huh?" He brightened his smile, somehow managing not to giggle at the look on Gabrielle's face: fear, denial, confusion and so much more.

She started to back away. "I--I have to--" her words ended in a small, horrified gasp as she stumbled over the half-naked corpse of a woman. That seemed to do it. Gabrielle turned and hurried away.

"Damn, I'm good," Joxer muttered to himself, watching her go. He'd found out a number of things he needed to know and now he stored that information away with the other bits that he'd collected over the past day or so of traveling with the two women. He might not ever need to use any of it, but he liked to be prepared for anything.

"What'd you say to her?"

Joxer turned to face Xena, his face now expressionless as he shrugged. "Nothing much. Guess she's just had a bad day."

For a moment he thought she'd try to attack him. Her eyes narrowed and her grip tightened on her sword. But then suddenly she just walked away, going after Gabrielle, leaving him alone -- with Iolaus. Well, now wasn't this interesting?

Hercules nowhere in sight at the moment and Iolaus stood there well out of reach, watching him cautiously. "If Gabrielle can't guard you then I'll have to," he finally spoke.

"Sidekicks have all the fun, huh?" Joxer kept his expression blank. He assumed Xena told the other two men about him, so now he waited to see how Iolaus would react to him.

Iolaus remained silent for a few moments before speaking again. "Do you have a problem with me on your world?"

This time Joxer couldn't keep a slight smile from curling up the corners of his mouth. "Nope. Not with you, Iolaus." Maybe that sounded a little more...familiar than it should've, but he couldn't help that either.

"It's Hercules then."

There were so many comments Joxer wanted to make on that observation, but in the end he just nodded once. He didn't want to provoke Iolaus. Not yet anyway.

"What did he do to you?"

He thought about how to phrase a good answer for a few seconds before replying, "He took away someone I cared about."

Iolaus seemed to think that over for a moment. "You claim that things are the same on your world, right?"

"No, I never said that. Events are different, but people are the same. Basically. I mean, of course I'm not -- thank the fates," Joxer added under his breath, "but I guess there's a few exceptions and all."

"Is Hercules one of them?"

"Nope. Unfortunately he's still an annoying, moralistic bastard." Joxer continued to maintain a perfectly pleasant tone.

"Then he didn't actually 'take' anyone from you, did he? They went willingly," Iolaus concluded.

"Oh, sure," Joxer allowed a touch of sarcasm to enter his voice. "You went along without a problem -- after he spent months going behind my back, telling you a bunch of crap about me. Like how I never cared about you, was just using you; a total load of bullshit. But he's 'the Great Hercules', so you bought it."

"Unless I'm a total idiot on your world, I think I'm capable of making my own decisions without someone influencing me that much," Iolaus said with a shake of his head. "I--he wouldn't have left you without a reason."

"He's not stupid," Joxer agreed, "just...really misguided."

"I doubt it. I saw some of what you did here and I think that on any world, seeing someone enjoy killing like that would turn my stomach." There was no accusation in his eyes, only truth.

And it had, Joxer remembered. He didn't do a lot of pointless killing, but sometimes the mood struck him and he went for it. His Iolaus had been horrified the first time he saw it. Joxer often wondered just when he'd started to lose the mortal; maybe it was at that moment.

He nodded, reluctantly. This Iolaus had a point. "Okay, so maybe that had a little something to do with it. But we still would've been okay if Jercules hadn't stuck his nose in our business. He fucked it all up."

Iolaus sighed, looking away. A few moments later when he refocused his gaze on Joxer, something shown in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "I don't know how things are on your world, but here, even if I really loved someone, I couldn't stay with him if he worked for Ares."

Joxer really hoped he didn't look nearly as floored as he felt. How the fuck had Iolaus figured it out? More than that what exactly had he figured out? "What're you talking about?" he asked, amazed at how calm and even his voice sounded.

"Don't." Iolaus' tone hardened a bit. "It's a little obvious. You said people are basically the same on your world. Well, the way you kill, I mean, just the skill behind it, I've only seen that from the warriors the God of War trains himself. And how you sound when you talk about Herc, it's too much like Ares to be coincidence."

Okay, fine. Joxer had given that much away without realizing it, but that still didn't answer his main question. What else did the mortal know, or suspect? "You're right. I serve Ares," he admitted, seeing how far a partial truth would get him. "My brothers and I learned to fight from him and, yeah, I guess we got our view of the world from him too." Well, maybe he'd paid more attention than his brothers had, which was why Ares kept him around and not them.

"Why? Where's the difference? How could our Joxer here grow up not serving Ares, and you end up a warlord for him?"

The relief that flooded through him almost sent Joxer to his knees, but he didn't let it show in the slightest. The fates were giving him a slight break. Oh, he was still in deep shit here, but as long as the others considered him mortal he still had a hope of making this work.

"Chance, I guess," he replied with a shrug.

"Yeah," Iolaus agreed, but he didn't sound quite satisfied.

"Do they know?" Joxer looked over to where Xena and a very subdued Gabrielle were sorting out the unconscious from the dead. Not too far away Hercules was busy helping some of the remaining townspeople put out fires.

Iolaus nodded. "Xena does, she'll tell them."

Well, that settled that. Okay, yeah, this was a major screw-up. Joxer hadn't realized what being the only god at a battle would do to him and he'd managed to partially reveal himself. But at this point he didn't think it really mattered anymore.

Even if he'd remained one of the "good guys," he couldn't have continued to travel with the rest of them. Xena and Gabrielle were bad enough, but spending more than a day around Hercules was a virtual guarantee that he'd be found out.

So now the only thing left to do was find a way out of here and hope he could get to the Halls of War first. He didn't think that would be too much of a problem. Even if he didn't know this town he recognized the general area. He could find his way from here.

"You wanna tie me up or something?" he asked with a resigned sigh. He'd definitely have to wait until dark to try and slip away.

"No, the people here need all the help they can get."

He raised an eyebrow at that. They'd let him wander around on his own?

"You'll stay close to me so I can keep an eye on you," Iolaus clarified.

"Okay." He couldn't do anything else at the moment so there was no point in arguing.

"But first, hand over your weapons."

"Xena took my sword."

"I mean the weapons you took off the mercenaries."

"How do you know that I did?" Joxer resisted smiling. He could play this game all day.

"I saw you hiding one before you killed that last man. Now quit wasting time and just toss 'em on the ground," Iolaus ordered.

Shrugging, Joxer pulled the dagger from where he'd hidden it beneath his armor and dropped it on the ground between them.

"Now the rest of them."

This time he didn't bother to play, he just pulled the daggers from his boots and tossed them down with the first one.

"Any more?"

"Could be," Joxer said calmly, "but if you want 'em, you'll have to search me yourself."

For a moment Iolaus glared at him, but then he kicked the daggers on the ground, shoving them out of reach. "Over there," he pointed to where some of the townspeople were trying to piece together stretchers for the wounded. "We'll help them." Joxer nodded and headed that direction.

In the past, the only involvement he had with war was causing it or keeping it going. The aftermath never concerned him. But now the God of Mischief found himself spending the next few hours actually helping people deal with it. With Iolaus as his constant shadow, he had to help carry the wounded to the makeshift hospital Gabrielle set up -- she never once met his gaze. He helped Xena sort out the prisoners and secure them, and at one point he had to work with Hercules to put out some of the smaller fires. That was the hardest, to be so close to Hercules and not be able to attack him in any way. Frustrating beyond belief.

Another problem soon presented itself though. Joxer could see that the mortals, and even Hercules, were starting to give into exhaustion from the battle and the aftermath. But Joxer felt, well...perky; "tired" didn't seem to be in his vocabulary right now. He knew it came from all that energy he'd accidentally absorbed in the battle, but he couldn't let it show and that sucked big time. He felt so damn good and he had to pretend like he was as weak and wiped out as everyone else.

By some unspoken agreement, everyone stopped working a couple hours before sunset. All the wounded were being seen to and the remaining mercenaries were bound and under guard, so attention turned to finding food and shelter for the night. Not that Joxer cared about either. However, a bath sounded wonderful. Being covered in blood and soot was great in battle, but after a few hours it got old.

"You see any place to clean up?" he asked Iolaus.

The mood between them felt much more relaxed now as they stood outside one of the few remaining buildings in the town, a small tavern that had been converted to a kitchen where dinner was being prepared. Iolaus had dragged him over here the minute he heard food would be given out. That didn't interest Joxer in the slightest. He wanted a bath.

"I heard mention of well somewhere around here," Iolaus replied. "But food--"

"Can wait. Show me where that well is." He grabbed the mortal by the arm and pulled him away from the tavern despite Iolaus' protests.

It took a few minutes but after asking around they finally found it near the edge of town. A couple other people had the same idea and were just finishing up washing their hands and faces.

As they waited, Joxer began pulling off the ridiculous armor he wore, ignoring the strange looks Iolaus gave him.

"What're you doing?" Iolaus finally asked.

"Hey, when I said I wanted to clean up I didn't mean just washing my hands, get it? I feel like I rolled around in the mud and I'm doing something about it. You should too," he added, looking the mortal over critically.

"You're going to undress right out here in the open?" Iolaus stared back at him incredulously.

"Yeah, and?" Joxer pulled off his shirt and dropped it on top of the pile of armor he'd accumulated.

It wasn't like they had a huge audience or anything. Most people were over in the hospital or at the kitchen. Only a few were in sight and they didn't seem all that concerned with a man undressing in their midst. Finally Iolaus seemed to resign himself to it, shrugging as they took their turn at the well.

Normally Joxer might've taken the opportunity this presented to flirt or maybe even seduce the mortal, if not for fun then for the possible chance to escape it could give him, but he couldn't this time, not with Iolaus. It would remind him too much of his Iolaus and he didn't need any more of that right now. So he just concerned himself with scrubbing down as best he could with the cold water they drew from the well. After a minute or so Iolaus followed his example, to a point anyway, stripping down to the waist and washing off. Joxer simply got naked and cleaned what he could easily reach, ignoring the temptation to ask Iolaus to wash his back for him.

"Nice work."

"Huh?" The comment caught Joxer off guard and he frowned at Iolaus, but then he saw what had Iolaus' attention. "Oh, thanks. Carved it myself." He glanced back at the tattoo on the left side of his ass: Ares' symbol. It took him hours of concentration to get that right. He hadn't used his powers, just red dye, one of his daggers and the mirror above his bed.

"Bet Ares loved that," Iolaus observed as he washed some of the grime out of his hair.

"Yeah, you could say that." Joxer grinned. "Bent me over the altar and fucked me right there in front of a bunch of his soldiers."

"That's more than I needed to know."

Joxer couldn't help laughing at that. "Well, if you get embarrassed that easily, then I won't tell you how I got these." His grin turned wicked as he tugged at one of the silver nipple rings he wore.

"Imagine my disappointment," Iolaus replied dryly, sending Joxer into another fit of laughter.

"You always could cheer me up," Joxer commented when he finally calmed down some.

Before Iolaus could reply to that, the sound of someone approaching caught his attention. "Xena," Iolaus nodded to her, pulling his vest back on.

She returned the nod. Her gaze strayed to Joxer for a few moments, then moved away when he raised an eyebrow at her, not bothering to hide his nakedness. She turned her attention to the pile of clothes and armor he'd left near the well.

Fuck. There went the other daggers he hid. Oh well. He'd find more later. "Toss me that stuff when you're done, huh? I wanna try to wash it up a bit," he said as she knelt down to search through it. He didn't get an answer, not that he'd expected one.

By the time Joxer was done cleaning up, Iolaus had long since finished and now stood on the other side of the wall, waiting for him. Xena had finished her search and appeared to be waiting as well, a variety of daggers piled off to the side of his clothes.

"You want something?" Joxer asked her with mild curiosity.

"You have anything else hidden?"

Now he smirked. "Maybe."

"Don't think I won't check for myself," she threatened.

"Oh, Xena, I know you will." He leaned back against the wall, displaying himself shamelessly, the offer blatant.

Without another word she walked up to him and suddenly he had the edge of her chakram pressed against his neck. "I won't kill you, Joxer, but I won't hesitate to hurt you either."

His breath caught in his throat, arousal shooting through him at the promise in her tone. "Please," he whispered breathlessly.

Xena made a disgusted sound and took the chakram from his throat, putting it away. "Watch him closely," she ordered Iolaus, then walked back into the town.

For a few moments Joxer watched her go, then he looked over at Iolaus. He returned the look with raised eyebrows. "You still want to wash your clothes?"

"Definitely." No way was he putting on filthy clothing when he'd just washed up. Joxer started to push away from the well, intent on grabbing his shirt and pants, but Iolaus beat him to it.

"Here."

Joxer caught the clothes tossed to him. "I wasn't gonna grab any weapons," he said with a smirk.

"Uh-huh." Iolaus' tone indicated a definite lack of belief as he gathered up the small assortment of daggers and threw them into the rubble of a nearby burned out barn. Joxer shrugged and began washing his clothes.

A few minutes later -- it would've been longer but Iolaus started griping about being hungry so Joxer had to quit scrubbing at that mysterious stain on his pants -- he was dressed and they headed back into the town. His clothes were very damp but he didn't care. He felt a lot cleaner than before. He carried the armor, not wanting to put that crap back on unless absolutely necessary.

He still had no idea how to get out of there without alerting anyone. He just needed a few hours head start. Even a couple would do. He just couldn't have the others right behind him. But they were sure to put a guard on him overnight, probably Xena or Iolaus. Someone he didn't have a good chance of jumping and knocking out or whatever.

Still working on the problem, he made himself go through the motions of being mortal, which meant going into the crowded tavern and getting something to eat. Sure, he ate sometimes, but only the best. Things grown on Olympus usually -- although he made an exception for that sushi thing Nebula did, but this...mystery soup they handed out in the makeshift kitchen, he didn't know if he could force himself to eat it. He'd never heard of a god getting food poisoning, but there was a first time for everything.

"Be grateful there's anything to eat at all," Iolaus said to him, seeing his expression.

"Hey, if you're so grateful, why don't you have mine too?" Joxer pushed his bowl at him.

Iolaus shook his head in exasperation, but he didn't turn down the extra helping either. "If you wanna go hungry that's fine by me."

And it worked out just fine for Joxer too. Now he didn't have to worry about trying to force that crap down.

They went back outside and over to where Xena and the others sat. Someone had constructed a lean-to of sorts and they all sat on the ground under it, around a small fire. Oh great. He'd just cleaned up and now he had to sit on dirt again. Thrilling.

"You're not hungry?" Hercules asked as Joxer dropped his armor off to one side.

"Not for that stuff I'm not," Joxer replied, deliberately taking a seat close to Gabrielle. She glanced up at him and he held her gaze, smiling until she looked away, her expression troubled.

"You should be grateful--"

"That we got anything at all," Joxer interrupted Hercules. "Yeah, heard it already. I'll just be grateful when I'm home and get something to eat the way I like it."

"And how's that?" Iolaus asked, seating himself next to Hercules.

Joxer grinned at him. "Usually blond, naked and with lots of whipped cream."

For a scant moment Iolaus started to smile but then he glanced over at Hercules, saw his friend's disapproving look and quickly made his own face expressionless again. Gabrielle didn't do anything, just continued to stare into the fire and eat mechanically.

"It's starting to spread now," Hercules said suddenly, his comment directed at Xena. "It's far more organized than it's been the last year or so. They're losing control."

She nodded in response. "It wasn't their job to begin with. Ares should've found someone else."

"I don't get it," Iolaus said, pausing in the middle of drinking down one of the bowls of soup. "They're all in the same branch of the family, why can't they handle it?"

"Who?" Joxer wanted to remain silent and just listen, but this conversation completely lost him.

"Deimos and Phobos," Iolaus clarified before looking to Hercules for the answer to his question.

"Oh, them." Joxer nodded, thinking of his brothers. Yeah, they were definitely on the weird side. Deimos was just plain insane and Phobos, well, he'd be okay if they could ever get him to quit wearing Discord's dresses. Kinda hard to instill fear in people when you looked like a prostitute.

"They were born to handle their own jobs," Hercules explained to his partner. "They can't handle Strife's too. I think they were just supposed to be temporary replacements until another solution could be found." He directed the last part of his comment to Xena.

Strife? Joxer had to stop himself from demanding a full explanation at the mention of that name. Things weren't adding up here.

"How're they dealing with it on your world?" Iolaus asked him, drawing all attention Joxer's way. Hercules and Xena looked at him, waiting for an answer.

"With...Strife's death?" he guessed, unsure what they were looking for and why one mortal's death made a difference here.

"Yeah." Iolaus gave him a strange look. "How's your world coping without a God of Mischief?"

Strife, the God of Mischief? Joxer almost laughed aloud at how ridiculous the concept was! Strife never had what it took to be a god at all, let alone fill that job! It took a level of competence the mortal hadn't possessed. But he had to give an answer here before everyone got suspicious.

"Well, I dunno. I mean, I never asked anyone, you know?" he replied, hoping that would work.

"No," Hercules spoke before Iolaus could again, "he means, what's happened with the level of violence? Does Ares encourage it or did he do something to stop it?"

Suddenly things began to piece themselves together. The God of Mischief was dead here so they didn't have anyone to direct all those wicked impulses mortals got. It sounded like the Ares here gave the job to the gods of fear and terror who really wouldn't be able to cope with it, so things were starting to come apart. Mortals were acting out some stuff they normally wouldn't -- like soldiers just taking off one day, forming raiding parties and sacking towns.

"It's been rough," he finally answered truthfully. Of course they didn't need to know exactly what he referred to there. "Strife definitely served a purpose. But he's gone and...I don't ask Ares what he does a lot, okay? I just do what I'm told." Well, sometimes he did, but that was close enough. The others just nodded.

"Who would've thought we'd miss the God of Mischief?" Gabrielle actually spoke, although it was more of a mutter.

Joxer resisted smiling. He knew his Ares missed him back home and that's all that mattered to him. He couldn't wait to get back so they could have a nice "reunion."

"Ares is being too stubborn about this, Herc," said Iolaus. "He's gonna have to do it sooner or later, the way things are going here. I mean, he's already tried to take on Strife's work himself and he couldn't manage it."

"It's not just about stubbornness -- well, all right, it is, but not on Ares' part," Hercules explained. "I think Hades has some strange policy about resurrecting murdered gods."

Murdered? Joxer knew he'd gasped aloud, they were all looking at him strangely. It took him a moment to find his voice though. "O--On my world, Strife just dropped dead one day." One bright, sunny day, lying on a hillside talking about nothing in particular -- and suddenly he was dead. "You're saying it was different here?"

"Yeah," Iolaus looked disturbed. "I saw it. Callisto stabbed him with a dagger covered in the blood of a Golden Hind. He just...died. He was there one minute, so alive, and then the next he was gone. So fast." For a moment he didn't say anything else, then he set aside his second, unfinished bowl of soup. "I'll stand first watch," he said quietly, then stood and walked off.

Oh. So that's how things were here. It certainly explained the disapproving look Hercules gave Iolaus as he left. Even in this world it seemed that Iolaus was meant to be with the God of Mischief. Joxer couldn't help wondering if the one on his world would mourn him the way that this one did Strife. He liked to think so.

And then an idea struck him. Very simple and straight forward, for him anyway. He'd have to do some of the actual work himself instead of manipulating people to do it for him. He didn't have time for that and time was a big deal here. But he could manage it himself. He had almost all the players in place; just a few more to set up and he'd be ready to start. Of course he needed to get out of here first.

For a while talk continued about the growing organized chaos coming from a lack of a mischief god, and Joxer did listen, hoping to hear something else useful. But by the time everyone began bedding down for the night he hadn't heard anything else important. Certainly a couple things he found interesting though.

Apparently here on this world Deimos and Phobos were Ares' sons and Strife's cousins instead of being his brothers. Joxer idly wondered what other differences there were here in his family. Zeus was still king -- although he sure wouldn't mind coming across a world one day where Ares was on top. That'd be totally awesome. After a few moments of pointless speculation, Joxer gave it up. Once he got his plan working, then he'd have some time to explore the pantheon in this world, but no reason to think about it now. At the moment he had to make like a mortal and sleep, or at least pretend to.

Lying back, using his arm as a pillow, he stared up at the sky and watched the last traces of daylight disappear. Looking at the stars far above, he wondered if there were any differences here, anything out of place up there. Without his powers he couldn't really check, but he could just look. At least it gave him something to do since he wouldn't be sleeping. Even if he'd wanted to, he was just way too hyped to do that, and he didn't have a way to burn off the excess energy.

"Whoa, you look just like him."

Joxer managed to suppress his instincts and not grab the nearest weapon to kill whomever just crept up on him. He hated being surprised like that. Although he definitely knew that voice. Pushing himself up onto an elbow, he glanced around -- and found his cousin standing just a few paces away. His cousin who looked so different from the god he'd left back in his world.

"Cupid?" he whispered.

"Uh...yeah." Cupid came a bit closer, moving further into the faint light provided by the fire. "Dude, you can see me?"

At first the meaning of that question didn't register with Joxer, he was too busy staring at the wings. Those absolutely perfect wings, not a flaw in sight. Is that how the Cupid in his world might've looked? Then he realized just what it was Cupid asked him, and knew he'd made a serious tactical error. Cupid was invisible to mortals right now, and somehow he knew Joxer wasn't from this world.

"Yeah, I can see you," Joxer replied, trying to figure out how in Tartarus he could get out of this situation.

"Wow." Cupid grinned a bit. "So, like, you're a demigod or something on your world?"

Well, thank the fates for small favors. One problem down, one major one to go. "Right," Joxer agreed. He hadn't specified what exactly he was, so he was still telling the truth. He loved those little distinctions. "How'd you know I'm not from this world?"

"Dunno." Cupid frowned. "Well, I mean, we all know someone came through that vortex, but I didn't really figure it out 'till I got close. I was just checking up on Curly for Mom and I saw you and it just didn't feel right, you know?"

Joxer nodded, he did know. This was almost exactly what he'd been afraid would happen if another god got close to him. Fortunately for him Cupid was here and not one of the other gods. They would've figured it all out in a few seconds, but the God of Love never had ranked too high on the intelligence scale. Although, the Cupid on his world seemed a bit sharper than this one, maybe it came from growing up with a decent God of Mischief.

"Who's Curly?" he asked, buying some time while he figured out how to work with this.

"Iolaus. Mom has a thing for him. But she likes Joxer too, so, he's like, okay, right?"

"Yeah, he's good." So Aunt 'Dite liked Iolaus here, huh? Interesting. Back on his world she liked her men on the tall and dark side, a description which Joxer definitely fitted.

Suddenly another idea came to him. He sat up, looking around to make sure no one noticed him. "Where's Iolaus?" Joxer asked quietly, not him.

"Over there." Cupid motioned to somewhere behind the lean-to.

"Can you put him out for a while, and make sure these guys don't wake up too?"

"Uh, sure, but why?" He frowned curiously.

"We need to talk about this world's Joxer, and I got a couple questions for you."

Cupid shrugged. "Okay, I guess." He made a slight gesture with his hand and suddenly gold sparkles briefly covered the entire area. When they died down the sound of snoring filled the air.

"Nice," Joxer commented, looking around at everyone, seeing how completely out they all were.

"They'll sleep half way through the day if someone doesn't get them up tomorrow."

Joxer had the urge to kiss Cupid. His cousin may not have been the brightest guy around, but right now he was doing all of Joxer's work for him. Now if he'd just go along with the next part of the plan.

"How'd you keep your wings looking like that?" he asked, and his interest wasn't feigned as he looked closely at the white feathers. He really wanted to know, it just happened to work in with the rest of his plan.

"Huh?" Cupid glanced back at a wing, then frowned at him. "Why?"

"Well, it's just that the Cupid on my world is, well...there was an accident a long time ago, and it left some permanent damage, you know?"

"What d'you mean, dude? Something happen to his wings?"

"Yeah, and when all the feathers grew back they didn't look right, all different angles and everything."

"But...how's he fly then?"

"He can't."

"Oh man," Cupid breathed, a look of pity settling on his handsome face. "What a total bummer."

"Yeah."

"So, like, why can't he grow 'em back in right?"

"I dunno. I know he tried at first, but he kinda gave it up after a while."

"Well, I guess it makes sense. I mean, it took me years to figure out how to do it right. Dad explained how but I couldn't get the hang of it."

Major surprise there. "So what's the trick? When I get back home I wanna tell our Cupid." It was a lot more complex than that, but for now that would work.

"It's all about doing this whole 'channeling energy' thing and how to do it exactly right and why didn't your Ares ever explain it to your Cupid?"

"Why would he?" Joxer frowned. "Ares doesn't get along with that side of the family. Oh, wait a sec, he's your Dad here, I get it. Okay. In my world he's your uncle and you guys really don't mesh, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, yeah." Cupid nodded regretfully. "I guess if he wasn't my Dad it'd be different here too. Sounds kinda rough in your world."

"Guess it is. Hey, um, can we get outta here or something? I'm totally sick of all this mud and dirt. Been dealing with it for days."

"I hear you, dude." Cupid smiled in understanding. "Let's go to my place. Psyche and Bliss are visiting her dad, won't be back for days."

"Awesome." Joxer grinned. Who the fuck were Psyche and Bliss? Before he could ask, the air around him filled with gold sparkles again, then everything vanished in a familiar white light.

Damn, he was better than good.

The God of Mischief had discovered early on in life that the power signature of one god could hide the signature of another, provided that other god was weaker. He used that a lot in his youth, long before he became powerful in his own right. When the other gods his age decided to torment him, he hid out in the temples of his relatives: Ares, Aphrodite, Hermes -- the ones he could trust.

Years later, when he first started to gain power in his position, he put that knowledge to work. Hiding his presence by being near a major god or goddess, he committed countless untraceable acts of mischief, from silly pranks to the utterly viscous. Oh, everyone in the pantheon knew, or suspected he was responsible for it all, but they couldn't prove a thing. That became his motto at the time: "I didn't do it. Nobody saw me do it. You can't prove anything." And they started to fear him.

Eventually he grew powerful enough so that those things didn't work very well anymore. Of course by then he had other ways of doing things, people willing to do it for him. But he never forgot the tricks that got him to his current position, and now he had a chance to use this one again. Here on this world he had little power. Fuck, Cupid had more than he did -- which meant he could use the God of Love's signature to hide his own. He could use his power now and go undetected. Of course Cupid didn't know he had another god as a houseguest and it had to stay that way for a while, so Joxer waited. Patient as always.

He'd been a bit surprised when Cupid brought him to Olympus instead of his main temple or something. But that was just fine. At least Cupid had remembered to bring that horrible armor with them. Joxer hated it, but he did need it.

Now looking around the room they stood in, he saw almost no difference between it and Cupid's place back in his world. Same pastel and clouds motif, horribly gaudy furniture, and of course the occasional handy vial of oil and pair of shackles. Now that Joxer could appreciate. Of course it also reminded him that it'd been days since he'd last fucked someone. What a depressing thought.

Cupid was busy searching through a messy pile of scrolls on a table in the corner. "Psyche's always telling me I should get more organized," he grumbled as he tossed a few slightly crumpled scrolls aside.

"She your wife or something?" Joxer guessed.

"Yeah. She's not in your world?"

"Nope. You never tied the knot there. You had something going with Harmonia behind Ares' back for a while, but you wouldn't make it official or nothing so she told you to kiss off."

"Doesn't sound like me here," Cupid responded, then laughed. "You sound like Strife, you know? I mean, how he used to sound." His laughter quickly died at that last comment.

"We used to hang." It felt so good to finally talk normally for a change! Joxer could allow himself to do it here, now that Cupid's usefulness had almost ended, and he loved it. This whole pretending to be someone else gig really sucked. No way would he do it again.

Wondering just what exactly Cupid was looking for, Joxer walked over and perched himself on the edge of the table. "What's up?" He took a random scroll and opened it, glancing at the contents without much interest. Ooh, a love spell. What a shock.

"I had Dad write down that stuff about energy and how to use it and all that. I kept losing it so I know I gotta have lots of copies around here somewhere."

"You write everything down?" Joxer opened another scroll. Love poetry. He dropped that one with a slight shudder.

"Yeah, I don't have the best memory, you know?"

"I figured." He grinned slightly.

Stopping in his search for a moment, Cupid looked at him curiously. "You're, like, pretty comfy here, dude. You hang with gods on Olympus a lot in your world? I mean, that's cool if you do, it's just that a lot of the other gods don't bring their half-breed kids up here. So who's your dad anyway?"

"Lotsa questions there." Joxer's grin turned sly. "Yeah, I'm up here a lot. Really dig the place, know what I mean? And I don't got clue one who my dad is. Fuck, I don't even think Mom knows," he giggled. "Man, what a bitch. I totally hate her, you know? But I gotta admit, messing with her just makes my day."

"That's harsh, dude. She is your Mom, you know." Cupid frowned at him.

"Please! It's Discord!" He snorted in contempt.

"You got her as a Mom? Oh man, that sucks!" Cupid's frown disappeared, his tone turning sympathetic.

"Yeah, big time. But I got Ares and I guess my brothers are cool enough, even if they do suck at their jobs, and your side of the family's okay. It's not bad sometimes, you know?"

Cupid nodded. "But it's just so weird. I mean, here I know Discord boffs mortals, but she's never gone and had a kid by one."

Actually, she hadn't in Joxer's world either. He was starting to wonder about this Cupid. Back home, the God of Love he knew seemed so much smarter, a lot more cynical too, but that part was Joxer's fault. Well, maybe Aphrodite dropped this Cupid on his head a few times when he was a baby or something. "'Dite's still your Mom here, right?" He'd been assuming she was.

"Yeah. She's cool."

"She is," Joxer had to agree. He wouldn't know half of what he did about sex if she hadn't taught him. He liked her almost as much as Ares.

They remained silent for a couple minutes after that. Cupid continued his search while Joxer pulled more scrolls out of the pile and looked them over. The Cupid on his world had a great memory so he found this interesting. Of course the God of Love there was bitter and pretty unromantic too. Not for the first time Joxer felt a stab of guilt at that, one he quickly suppressed.

"Got it! Here." Cupid held out a rather crumpled looking scroll, smiling in triumph. "Just tell your Cupid to do what it says."

Taking it with a grateful nod, Joxer read it through. "Huh. Weird way to channel that energy, but I guess if it works." He shrugged and closed the scroll.

"You know how this stuff works?" Cupid frowned slightly in confusion.

"I'd better. Wouldn't be too good as the God of Mischief if I didn't, know what I mean?" Joxer raised an eyebrow, tossing the scroll on his nearby pile of armor.

"You...?" Cupid didn't finish, staring at him in shock.

"Duh, dude." Joxer couldn't help the slight mockery of Cupid's speech. "Can't believe you couldn't figure it out on your own."

"Well, you felt strange...but, I mean, I didn't think--I...," Cupid's words trailed off in the wake of Joxer's giggles.

"You didn't think? Well, I'm like, so shocked!"

"You used me, didn't you?" Cupid asked, looking more than a little hurt. "I don't know how, but it's got something to do with Uncle Herc and the rest of them."

Joxer forced himself to stop giggling, but he couldn't quit grinning. "Yeah, I needed you to get me outta there 'cause they don't know I'm a god. But really, that's the only way I used you. I do need that info for my Cupid and I need to talk to you anyway, so being here is a good thing." He rolled his eyes when Cupid continued to look wounded. "Oh, c'mon, don't go getting all uptight about it. It's just the way I am, you know? Nothing to do with you."

Stepping closer, he slid his arms around Cupid's neck, leaning in to kiss him. For a moment he got no response, but then he felt the lips beneath his soften and part, letting him work his tongue into Cupid's mouth. He felt arms moving around his waist the same time he heard Cupid moan.

"Mmm, nice." Joxer sighed, pulling back just a little. "You always were great when I wanted something slow and sweet." Another drawn-out kiss, making them both moan, and he drew back again. "This is so totally good. Almost makes me regret what I gotta do here, you know?"

"Huh?" Cupid frowned, looking a bit dazed.

"I can't have the other gods knowing I'm around just yet, 'kay? Well, back on my world you're a pretty big gossip and I'm betting you're even worse here. See where I'm going with this?"

Cupid stiffened in his arms. "You're gonna...? You can't! I mean, no god can kill another!"

"Paranoid much?" Joxer looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "I'd never off you, I like you too much."

"Oh." Cupid seemed extremely relieved. "Then what--" The manacles suddenly locking his wrists behind his back answered him.

Joxer smirked. Perfect. Just like years ago in his youth he couldn't detect his own power signature as he shackled Cupid's wrists with a thought, Cupid's signature hid it totally. "You shouldn't leave those toys of yours laying around," he chided a bit sarcastically, glad he'd spotted those manacles in his first look around the room. They were Hephaestian, no way would Cupid get out of them or vanish anywhere while wearing them.

"What're you gonna do with me?" Cupid asked, a touch of fear in his tone.

"Nothing really. Well, not if you're a good boy and do the cooperating bit. Basically I just need to make sure no one knows about me for a few more hours, and I need some information."

"I'm not telling you anything," Cupid refused.

"Yeah, you will." Joxer smiled almost kindly. "Remember what I said happened to the Cupid in my world?"

"Um, you said he had an accident."

"Yeah. I 'accidentally' pulled out all the feathers in his wings." He continued to smile despite the look of horror Cupid gave him. "So, you gonna do the smart thing and tell me what I wanna know, or do you want a replay of that?"

"N--No! I mean, yeah, I'll tell you!" Cupid whispered, trying to back away but hitting a wall.

"Good choice." Joxer smirked. "Now let's get to it."

Lacing up the makeshift gauntlet, Joxer looked around the small, crumbling temple with pity, and something close to sadness. The place suited his needs great, but what it represented kind of sucked.

The only temple this world's God of Mischief ever had. It looked so tiny and pathetic even compared to the smallest of Joxer's temples back home. And it was obvious this place never saw much, if any use. It was like a monument to a failed god, one who wanted so much and tried so hard, but in the end had nothing. It almost hurt to look at it.

But Joxer needed a place no one knew; a place that even most of the gods here had forgotten about. Somewhere he could stash things -- and people -- without worrying that someone would stumble across it. Cupid told him about this.

Cupid. Joxer guessed that went okay, all things considered anyway. This Cupid still had the innocence and trust that the one in his world lost centuries ago, and Joxer really hadn't wanted to harm that, not again. He did what he had to do though. He couldn't say he'd enjoyed it but he needed that information and he didn't have time to try the slow and subtle way. Besides, despite a bit of a stubborn streak, Cupid had been pretty cooperative. Joxer had only need to pull out three feathers.

Now the God of Love sat in the back of the temple, gagged and bound hand and foot with his own shackles. Hopefully he wouldn't have to stay there long, but just in case Joxer made sure he'd be comfortable enough, cushions on the floor, gag not too tight and all that. The intent was to keep him quiet and still, not to hurt him. Not like he had the Cupid in his world.

Joxer regretted that. Oh, for years he felt like Cupid deserved it, but with time passing he began to think that maybe he'd been too bitter and angry when he planned that. Maybe the punishment was way worse than the crime.

Sure, Cupid betrayed him. He'd thought his cousin really liked him, let him hang around because they were friends and sometimes lovers. But then he'd overheard Cupid talking about him one day, laughing at him behind his back with Apollo and Athena and the others. Fuck that'd hurt. But he hadn't confronted Cupid about it. That wasn't how he did things.

Joxer never did forget the pain Cupid caused him by doing that, and some years later, when he had the power to get away with it, he got his own justice -- no, he had to be honest. It wasn't justice, it was plain vengeance. He could admit that much now.

Saying he just wanted to do it a bit rough, Joxer tricked Cupid into letting himself be bound to the bed with Hephaestian chains. Then Joxer told him what would happen and way, and proceeded to spend the next few hours plucking out his feathers, enjoying Cupid's cries and sobs, and eventual pleas for mercy. And when it was over Cupid hadn't been able to do anything about it. By then the God of Mischief had plenty of power and influence and the other gods wouldn't side with Cupid against him. Joxer got away with it. He'd tortured and humiliated Cupid and at the time he'd felt pretty damn smug about it.

Now he just felt like it'd been amateurish. He didn't get how to use power back in his youth, not always. Like most of the other gods he'd thought violence solved everything. It took him a couple centuries to figure out how things should work. If Cupid had betrayed him a few years later, Joxer never would've considered doing something so blatantly cruel and violent. Instead he would've found a more subtle way of paying Cupid back. Something that would've taught a lesson without having permanent effects.

But history was history and he couldn't undo it. Maybe he could repair it though. He'd wanted to do something for a while now to really patch up things between him and Cupid's side of the family, something beyond the simple truce he'd called a couple years back. He just hoped the information this world's Cupid provided would do it.

Putting on the ridiculous helmet that completed the outfit, Joxer deliberately avoided looking back at the bound God of Love as he walked out of the temple. It was nearly time to put his plan to work and he couldn't afford any distraction. He put Cupid out of his mind entirely.

One of the great things about this old temple was its location. Only a league or so from the Halls of War. Apparently even though Strife had wanted his own place, he'd wanted to stay close to his uncle too. It worked out great for Joxer.

Dawn wasn't too far off. He'd spent longer than he'd thought getting the information he needed. But he was still far closer to the Halls than Hercules or the others were in that town. Even if they woke now he'd have a good chance of reaching the place before they did. But he'd still cover the distance as fast as he could, just in case.

Never again. Joxer could say that with absolute certainty. After this he'd never play mortal again. Oh, he'd gotten a lot of practice at this whole travelling thing over the past few days, even thought he was getting pretty good at it, but he totally hated it. No more dust, no more being disgustingly sweaty, no more of any of it!

The energy he'd picked up from the battle had started to fade a while ago and losing that buzz really got him down. Plus he'd gotten used to using his power again. That short time in another god's presence allowed it and he'd let himself enjoy it. Now he had to do the mortal thing and it sucked!

He tried to console himself with the thought that in a short time he could drop the whole act, but it didn't work. He wanted to ditch it all now! Knowing that it would all be over soon just made it worse. He couldn't wait to get out of this crappy armor and into some nice black leather. But he made himself deal with it. Well, he couldn't stop mentally complaining, but on the outside he didn't let it show. He wouldn't spoil the whole thing now when he was so close.

He'd found the path leading down to the Halls of War a while ago. It took some time to get there using it, but the only other option was the direct method and he just didn't feel like polishing his rock climbing skills that morning.

The path was wide enough for at least five men to travel down side by side and had probably been built that way for the occasional army that came to the Halls of War. While Joxer could tell that nowhere near that number had come through lately, he did see signs of recent activity.

Stopping for a moment, he took a closer look at the dirt on the path. He couldn't afford to waste any time but he wanted to be at least marginally prepared for whatever he found at the Halls. From the state of the dirt on the path he could tell that a dozen men, maybe one or two more had come through since the rain let up. The tracks weren't in any type of military formation but anyone going down to the Halls had to have some association with war, which meant something was up.

He didn't like this situation at all, walking in practically blind, no real idea of what was happening or how it could affect him. Normally he would've just turned right around and left until he could find out just what was going on. But he couldn't now. He was on borrowed time and he'd just have to make do.

At least he had some warning though. Now he wouldn't be completely unprepared. Continuing on down the path, he made a mental note to thank Artemis for those tracking lessons when he got home. Well, okay, maybe she hated him and wanted him dead and he'd blackmailed her into doing it, but hey, no big deal. Every family had its little problems.

The path took him right to the front of the Halls of War but he slowed down before that came into view. He could feel it already, the trace of another god's presence. Faint at the moment, but with every step towards the place it grew stronger. It was a major god, one of the twelve, but he couldn't tell anymore than that from this far away. He needed to get much closer. Unfortunately that meant getting through the heavily armed mortals outside the Halls.

Damn. He really didn't want to deal with this. A couple of priests, sure, no problem, but these were warlords. Big, impressively muscled, very irritated looking warlords. Not good.

There were a couple still-smouldering campfires and some of the men were rolling up bedrolls while others finished up whatever they'd cooked for breakfast. A few were standing around in loose groups talking, but all of them looked on edge and more than a little impatient.

Joxer doubted they'd let him pass without messing with him. The tension in the air was obvious and they might welcome a distraction. He looked smaller and weaker than they did and that might make them think they could push him around, or worse. If it got too bad he could be forced to use his powers and ruin everything. But he didn't have much choice. It was now or never. Picking up his pace again, he plastered a smile on his face, not letting any of his nervousness show through. If they spotted that he didn't have a chance of making it through unharrassed.

By the time he neared the end of the path he could see that most of the men had started to focus their attention on him. No one drew their weapons as he approached, they just looked at him strangely, like they weren't quite sure what to make of him. The whole scene kind of reminded him of home at first. A bunch of overly muscled guys in black leather armed to the teeth, hanging around outside Uncle Ares' place. But back on his world these mortals would be clearing a path for him right about now instead of staring and laughing.

Joxer tried not to let his anger show as the cruel laughter reached his ears. He could see the sneers on some of the men's faces as they watched him approach but he had to ignore it. He was too close to blow it now because his ego was bruised.

"Here we go," he muttered under his breath. He walked into the crowd of warlords without hesitation, heading for the open doors. None of them moved out of the way so he had to step around the men where he could, but finally he ended up trying to push his way through. Then a hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping him.

"Where you think you're going?" The contempt in that voice was reflected in the faces around him.

Joxer couldn't say he was surprised by any of it, but it really annoyed him. His patience was going fast and wanted to get this damn facade over with. But he didn't let it show as looked around at the warlords.

"Um...to see Ares?" Joxer replied, smiling in an open, friendly manner. Trying to seem as non-threatening as possible was his only way out. If that didn't work, then he'd have a big problem. The other god he could sense was inside the Halls and being this close, Joxer knew it was Ares. He'd almost made it. All he had to do was get out of this without letting these idiots screw it up.

"Why would Ares wanna see a little worm like you?" The voice came from off to his left, but it could've come from any of the men closing in around him. They all looked like they wanted to tear him apart for the fun of it. Definitely not good.

"Back off, Gryllus."

The hand on Joxer's shoulder pulled back abruptly.

"You 'back off,' Perdix!"

Joxer turned in time to see a tall man pulling away from a shorter, stockier one. Interesting. The shorter man, Perdix, was dressed better than most of the men here. Taking a quick glance around, Joxer saw that the other warlords didn't look as ready to waste him as they had a few seconds ago. That meant this Perdix was one of Ares' favorite warlords at the moment and no one wanted to mess with him over something so minor -- except for this idiot, Gryllus.

"We're just having some fun here so stay outta it!" Gryllus said, giving Joxer a predatory look.

"It's your funeral." Perdix shrugged. "That's Ares' latest toy."

Surprised and disbelieving murmurs went through the crowd. Gryllus gave the other warlord a skeptical look. "That?" he motioned to Joxer. "I don't think so."

"Hey, think what you want, I just know what I saw in the temple in Sparta a few weeks ago. Ares is doing him."

That seemed to convince most of the warlords. Many of them moved away, a few disappointed grumbles filling the air. One or two others remained though, eyeing Joxer with speculation and a new kind of interest.

"Come on."

Suddenly Joxer found himself being dragged along by his arm. Quickly finding his footing, he couldn't help the glare he gave the man still grasping his arm. Perdix just smirked slightly.

"If I let you try to get in on your own you'd never make it," he said quietly. "Some of them still don't believe you're Ares' pet and you don't wanna know what they'll do to you if I leave you alone."

Joxer had to grit his teeth to keep from replying to that "pet" remark. If that's all Ares saw his counterpart as, then the mortal was better off remaining in the God of Mischief's world.

But Perdix had a point. Joxer doubted he'd make it inside the Halls on his own without another confrontation, so he needed the escort. "Why are you all here?" He hoped to pick up something useful and this man was in a position to know everything -- or at least as much as Ares would tell his trusted mortal followers.

Perdix snorted. "With all the men deserting, what else do we got to do?"

"Oh." Very interesting. The problems in this world were bigger than Joxer first thought. That could make things easier for him. Then they were inside the Halls.

Everything looked exactly the same as back home. Black marble, weapons lining the walls, even Ares standing there at a large table, studying the maps laid out on it. He looked so serious and intense like he always did when planning a war, and for a moment Joxer felt incredibly homesick. But he quickly surpressed it as Perdix released his arm.

"Lord Ares." Perdix bowed. "I brought someone to see you."

The God of War looked up at them, visibly annoyed at the interruption. Then his gaze focused on Joxer.

And Joxer had his answer.

Now the game could begin.
 

Back in the alt. world....

sudden flash of light and a shower of gold sparkles announced the arrival of the Goddess of Love. One look at her expression and the priests abruptly remembered things they had to do -- as far away from the temple as they could get. Within seconds the place had cleared out.

"Cupid!" Aphrodite shouted, her voice hard and angry, far different from her usual bubbly tones. "Get down here right now!" When she received no response she looked around her son's temple for any sign of where he might be.

Everything was the same as always, bright and colorful -- a sharp contrast to Cupid's moods. She knew why he kept the temple this way though; he wanted a reminder of how things used to be so many years ago. Usually that made Aphrodite feel some sorrow for her son's predicament, but right now she was just too upset.

"Cupid!" She demanded again, but still received no answer. Her son ignoring her or any of the other gods wasn't too unusual, but it was annoying.

Trying to track him down would be pointless. Even if she found him, he'd resent her coming after him and wouldn't answer any questions. No, she'd have to wait until he decided to show himself again.

She made a wordless sound of fury, frustrated by everything that had happened and her current inability to do anything about it. When she saw her son again she'd make him think twice about messing with her gigs!

Spotting a nearby miniature statue of two lovers entwined, Aphrodite focused and in an uncharacteristic display of anger, shattered it with a lightening bolt. Dust and pieces of marble momentarily filled the area, then settled to the ground -- and it didn't make her feel any better.

"Like, what's bro' see in this 'blow shit up' thing anyway?" she muttered to herself, although thinking of Ares just made her even more upset.

Giving up, for the moment, Aphrodite sighed in frustration and focused on her nearest temple, deciding to go there and wait until her son finally showed up again. But just as she was about to disappear, she heard it, a faint sound, like a muffled whimper. It was enough to make her curious.

Walking towards the white marble altar, she moved around to the back of it, certain that the sound came from somewhere behind there. And she was right. She frowned at the mortal huddled at the base of the altar, obviously trying not to make any more noise.

"Joxer?" It felt strange, calling this mortal by her nephew's name, but he responded, looking up at her with wide, frightened eyes. Realizing that she was probably the cause of that fear, Aphrodite's anger disappeared, a touch of compassion replacing it.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad at you," she promised, giving him one of her sweeter smiles.

It didn't seem to relax him any, but he nodded, remaining silent.

"So...then, what's up?" she asked curiously.

He just shook his head. Looking away from her, he wrapped his arms around his drawn-up knees and appeared to just withdraw into himself.

Aphrodite didn't like not knowing things. Being the Goddess of Love meant that she had to stick her nose in other people's business; it just went with the job. Of course she really liked doing it too so it all worked out. Once her curiosity was aroused though, she never rested until it'd been satisfied.

She wanted to know what was going on here and she intended to find out right now. Besides, the God of Mischief had asked her to look after his counterpart, and she knew better than to disappoint him.

Joxer glanced at her in surprise when she plopped herself down beside him. Carefully rearranging the pink silk of her dress around her, she leaned back against the altar and focused all her attention on this mortal version of her nephew.

"What's going on, really?" For a few moments she thought he might not answer her, but then he sighed resignedly.

"Cupid," Joxer said quietly.

There was a name guaranteed to get Aphrodite angry all over again. "Why am I so not surprised?" she said in a huff, crossing her arms over her breasts.

Joxer looked slightly curious as he glanced at her again. "Did he...do something to you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Totally! I mean, do you have any idea how hard I worked to get bro' and that king together?" Thoroughly upset now, Aphrodite looked at Joxer for sympathy -- only to find an expression of confusion on his face. "Ares and Iphicles," she clarified impatiently.

"Oh!" He nodded, but then suddenly took on a look of guilt and shifted his gaze to the floor in front of him.

"Oh?" Aphrodite's eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. "Okay, spill it. What d'you know?"

Shrugging uncomfortably, Joxer's eyes remained focused on the ground. "I, um, I was there when Cupid, you know, made Ares fall in love with Nebula."

"So why'd he do it?" she demanded.

"I'm...not really sure. I mean, he said something about Ares pushing him too much, but I didn't want to ask. I thought he might get angry at me or something."

Aphrodite nodded in understanding. "Yeah, Cupid can get pretty intimidating when he's angry."

"So can you."

The comment was whispered but she heard it. She knew when she lost her temper her control tended to disappear too and she hated that. She had an image to maintain and not just for pride. Sometimes even a goddess' life could depend on how everyone else saw her. Time for damage control.

"You don't have to worry about it, you know. I'm really harmless," she promised brightly, letting her expression take on that vacant, somewhat clueless look she'd developed centuries ago.

Joxer obviously didn't buy it. He gave her a level look that told her he probably had a very good idea of just what she was capable of. Damn. Oh well, so much for that.

"You know me on your world, don't you?" she asked seriously, dropping all pretense.

He nodded. "You like to mess with my life a lot."

That didn't sound good, but it did sound like something she'd do. "Then...do you hate me or something?" As much as she wished it otherwise, Aphrodite was pretty sensitive when it came to how people felt about her and the thought that someone, even this mortal might hate her was totally depressing.

"No. I mean, you're kind of hard to like sometimes, but I don't hate you."

"Oh. Bummer." She sighed, looking away for a moment. Maybe he didn't hate her, but he obviously wasn't too fond of her either and that just sucked. But what if she could change that? Getting him to really like her would do a lot to improve her mood, maybe take her mind off Cupid for a while.

Impulsively she wrapped an arm around Joxer's shoulders and pulled him close. He gave a surprised yelp which was muffled by his face pressed against her breasts.

"Hey, relax!" Aphrodite's voice returned to its normal bright tones as she gave him a friendly squeeze. "You looked like you could use a hug." He responded but she couldn't make out what he said. Loosening her grip on him, she allowed him to pull away slightly.

"Thanks," he said distractedly.

"Sure thing, sweetie." Aphrodite gave him a cheerful smile, but Joxer's attention wasn't focused on her face. Eyebrows raised in slightly stunned appreciation, his gaze was locked on her breasts, mostly bared by her dress.

Suppressing a giggle, Aphrodite couldn't help feeling a touch of satisfaction. Even if she wasn't his favorite person, he still responded to her like almost everyone else. And maybe she had her answer there. Sometimes the fastest way to get on a guy's good side was through a bit of good, old-fashioned boinking, and that she could do.

With a thought her dress disappeared and again she had to stifle a giggle as Joxer gasped in shock and appreciation. "Well don't just stare at them," she teased.

Joxer looked up at her, his brown eyes showing more confusion than arousal. That wouldn't do. Tugging him forward, Aphrodite planted a long but gentle kiss on him. But instead of responding like she'd hoped, he pushed away from her, losing his balance in the process and ending up sprawled out on his back.

Quickly taking advantage of his clumsiness, Aphrodite straddled him and made his black leathers vanish. Joxer shivered as her fingers found a nipple and began toying with it. But again he resisted, pushing her hand away and trying to sit up despite her weight on him.

She didn't get it. He'd shown some interest so why was he fighting her? Just when she'd decided to give up though, Joxer suddenly stopped struggling. He didn't respond to her continued advances either, but he didn't fight. He lay there beneath her with a disturbingly resigned look on his face.

"Okay, I give." Aphrodite stopped and crossed her arms, looking down at him in annoyance. "I'm doing it all right but you're not into it! Well, okay, maybe you're sort of into it," she rocked against his semi-hard cock, prompting another gasp from him, "but you're just not with me here. You know?"

"Does it matter?" Joxer asked quietly.

Now that was unexpected. "Like, duh. Of course it matters!" Throwing her hands up in frustration, she moved off him and stood up. "I wanted to make you feel good because you looked totally down, and I could've used it too." She looked at him accusingly before putting a few paces between them.

"Then why don't you just take what you want?" His tone was tired and still had that resignation that bothered her. "That's what Cupid said you'd all do and I can't stop you."

"What?" Aphrodite couldn't believe what he'd just implied. She turned on him in renewed anger -- but before she started yelling at him she realized that his words hadn't been an attack on her, not totally. She wouldn't force herself on him, but he didn't have any reason to believe that, not after the way she'd just jumped him.

"He told you about that 'sharing mortals' rule, huh?" she said, finally understanding, at least in part, Joxer's attitude about it all.

He nodded. Pushing himself back up, he drew his knees to his chest again in an obvious attempt at modesty.

Not wanting to make him more uncomfortable, she returned his clothes to him with a wave of her hand. "Sorry about that," she apologized, her tone sympathetic as she walked back over to him.

Clothed once again in the black leather and silk his counterpart favored, Joxer leaned back against the marble alter but kept his arms locked around his legs. He looked so frightened and miserable; Aphrodite just wanted to hold him, give him some sort of comfort. But she didn't dare this time. After what she'd done before he wouldn't trust her not to try something.

"I'm not like that, you know." Her voice was soft as she knelt beside him. "I just wanted to help you, but I guess I got a bit...eager."

Joxer shrugged slightly. "S'okay."

But it wasn't, Aphrodite could see that. She risked placing a hand on his shoulder; he tensed but didn't pull away. "Look," she kept her voice soft, "I know what Cupid said and I'm not gonna tell you it's not true, but I promised that I'd help look after you, and I will. I won't go throwing myself at you again, okay?" She smiled encouragingly.

He glanced at her -- and quickly looked away again, his normally pale cheeks turning red.

Oh. Used to walking around naked half of the time, she'd forgotten about it. Using her power to cloth herself, this time in a little, pink and gold silk number -- 'little' being the key word -- she gave Joxer's shoulder a quick squeeze before releasing him.

"Well, I can stay for a while, so tell me what you want to do." She forced some brightness into her tone, hoping she could distract Joxer for a while some other way.

"I want to go home," he replied quietly.

"You sure? If too many people see you in Joxer's temple they might think he's back and--"

"No," he interrupted. "I want to go to my home. My world. I don't wanna be here anymore."

Aphrodite didn't know how to respond to that at first. She wished she could say she didn't understand, but she did. Life on this world wouldn't get any easier for him, even when Joxer returned.

"Sorry." She shrugged helplessly. "I can't do anything about that. I mean, even if I could I wouldn't. The God of Mischief wants you here for now and no one's going to help you leave."

"Yeah, I figured." The bitterness in his tone almost made Aphrodite wince.

"Maybe you can forget about it for a while," she suggested, latching onto her original idea. "C'mon." She held out her hand. "We can go look at the gardens outside my main temple. None of my priestesses will bother us so we can just talk or something."

For a few moments Joxer regarded the hand before him, but just as Aphrodite though he'd refuse, he took it and let her help him to his feet. She didn't let go once he stood next to her and he didn't make any move to pull away.

"You can trust me, okay?" she promised brightly.

He didn't reply, just looked at her expectantly without any enthusiasm.

Unable to maintain her forced cheerfulness in the face of his melancholy mood, Aphrodite gave him a slightly sad smile. Knowing she wouldn't get a response, she focused on her main temple in Cyprus and took them there.

The garden outside the main temple of the Goddess of Love looked like a part of the Elysian Fields set down on Earth. Everywhere there was greenery. Trees and soft grass were occasionally interspersed with brightly colored flowers, their fragrance carried throughout the garden by a gentle breeze. It was a wonderful spot for quiet reflection -- although that generally wasn't what Aphrodite's followers used it for.

At the moment though it was nearly deserted save for the goddess herself and the mortal in black at her side. The beauty of the place had obviously touched him to the point where he'd occasionally smile at her running stream of commentary on the garden, the temple and life in general. He didn't talk himself, just listened to her as they walked.

When they came upon a white marble bench in the shade of an olive tree, he took a seat there and visibly relaxed. Aphrodite smiled at that but didn't stop talking. Remaining on her feet by the bench, she continued chatting away, oblivious to everything else around them, feeling secure in her own garden.

Some distance away, concealed by a row of trees, the God of Terror watched it all through narrowed eyes. That wasn't Joxer. He knew it a few seconds after seeing him the day before. But who was he then?

Shifting his weight from one spiked heel to the other, the bleach-blond god tried to decide what to make of it all.

When he'd felt the vortex open a few days back, Phobos had been curious of course, but Joxer hadn't said he could go check it out. So rather than be frustrated by pointless curiosity, he'd forgotten about it -- or at least he had until the God of Mischief started acting weird.

Normally Joxer didn't leave his brothers alone for more than a day or two. He always kept them entertained somehow, or at least occupied enough so they didn't get restless. But he hadn't been to see them in days. It was like he'd completely forgotten them. Something big had to have happened to make Joxer act like that so Phobos decided to see what was up. That was over a day ago and since then he'd had seen plenty.

At first he couldn't believe it, his brother gone and a mortal in his place? It didn't seem possible, but the evidence sat right in front of him. Then there was the fact that some of the other gods seemed to be helping this mortal impersonate the God of Mischief. Ares was in on it which meant that it had to be Joxer's idea, otherwise their uncle wouldn't have gotten involved. But why the deception in the first place and where was Joxer?

Reaching out with a touch of his power, Phobos shivered a moment later when he found no trace of his younger brother anywhere. Although he hadn't expected any other result he still didn't want to accept it. Ever since he'd tried searching for Joxer yesterday he'd felt the same thing, and it really disturbed him.

Absentmindedly running a finger over the black leather collar permanently fastened around his neck, Phobos considered his options. He wouldn't ever say that he loved his brother, but he did need him, as did Deimos. Without Joxer there he didn't know what he and his twin would do.

As if in response to the thought, a bubble of bright blue light suddenly appeared next to him. It expanded and in a flash, the God of Fear stood there.

"So...what's going on?" Deimos asked with a nervous giggle.

"How'd you escape?" Phobos raised a plucked eyebrow in his twin's direction. He'd deliberately left Deimos and wasn't happy to see him. His brother annoyed him, to say the least. They may've had the same looks, but otherwise, as far as he was concerned they were completely different.

"Same way you did: picked the lock." Deimos pulled at the metal ring on the front of his own collar where the chain was usually attached. "You know, you could've set me free when you ran off!" he accused, although the look in his dark eyes belied any real anger.

"Here we go again," Phobos muttered sarcastically, recognizing the hunger in that look. They really did need to have a little chat about this fascination Deimos had with fucking him when their brother wasn't around. Joxer didn't appreciate his toys playing without his permission. "You got out yourself, didn't you?" he shot back, then changed the subject. "Check that out." He pointed to where Aphrodite now sat next to the mortal.

Looking away from his twin with obvious reluctance, Deimos focused on the peaceful little scene beyond the concealing trees. Suddenly a look of fear crossed his face. "Oh fuck! It's Joxer!" Grabbing hold of Phobos' arm, he dropped down to the ground, pulling his brother with him.

"You idiot!" Phobos hissed, yanking himself free of his twin's grip. "This is my new outfit and you just got grass stains on it!" He wanted to strangle Deimos but his brother would probably enjoy it too much.

Deimos smirked at him. "You mean that's Mom's new outfit, right?"

"It looks better on me," Phobos growled the reply. When he saw where Deimos' gaze was focusing, he tugged the short leather skirt down over his tanned thighs.

"No argument here." Deimos' smirk turned to a leer.

Rolling his eyes, Phobos started to stand up -- only to be yanked back down. "You want me to hurt you?" he snapped, then gritted his teeth at the hopeful look that appeared in his twin's eyes. "Forget I said it. Now let go." He looked pointedly down at the hand gripping his wrist.

"No! You know if Joxer sees us he'll punish us, and not in a good way!"

Phobos shook his head in annoyance. "Wonder what the fates had against you. I got all the brains -- and the fashion sense," he glanced over at Deimos' brown fringe outfit in disgust. "Just look at them closer," he ordered before Deimos could defend his clothing. "That's not Joxer."

"You're crazy," his brother accused, but looked anyway. After a few moments his eyes widened in shock. "You're not crazy -- that's a mortal!"

"Duh." Phobos pulled his arm from his twin's grasp and turned over onto his stomach. Propping his head up on his crossed arms, he watched the mortal that looked like their brother. "He's good, I'll give him that, but no way could he fool anyone who really knows the God of Mischief."

"But where's Joxer?" Deimos glanced around nervously.

"Well he's obviously not around here, genius," Phobos replied with heavy sarcasm. "I don't know where he is," he admitted. That didn't cost him anything since he knew his twin wouldn't be able to locate their younger brother either. "I'm starting to think he's not here at all. It'd make some sense."

"Huh?" Deimos frowned in confusion as he slid over a bit closer to his twin.

"The vortex, you twit." Phobos sighed in exasperation. "Remember when we felt it open a that first time a few days ago? I think that's when he came through." He nodded towards the mortal. "When it opened the second time, I think Joxer went through. So if that's true then it means the mortal is our brother's counterpart -- and unless you wanna lose that hand, you'd better get it off there." He began lightly drumming his painted nails on the ground for emphasis. Long and very sharp, it wouldn't be the first time he'd used them to make his twin back off.

But Deimos ignored the warning, keeping his hand on the back of Phobos' thigh as he leaned in close. "So, you're saying Joxer's not even in this world anymore, right?"

Phobos started to make a comment about his twin's habit of stating the obvious, but all that came out was a gasp as the hand suddenly slid up under his skirt.

"Oooh, I love it when you don't wear any underwear," Deimos whispered, licking the back of his brother's ear.

Phobos was caught between wanting to hit his twin and moaning at the sensation of the hand moving over his ass. If things had been different he might've just given in and let Deimos go for it. But despite being fairly talented with those hands, Deimos was a pretty lousy fuck and Phobos wasn't in the mood for one of his brother's "two minute specials."

"Knock it off," he snarled, pushing his twin away. "Now listen up, we've got a chance here. That mortal's from another world, our brother's counterpart, following me? Well, Joxer's messed up! There's his weakness and we can -- what the fuck are you doing?" Phobos tried to turn over as his skirt was shoved up, but a hand came down hard on the back of his neck and held him there.

Briefly he considered throwing Deimos off him and hitting him with a few lightening bolts. His strength was more than a match for his brother's so it wouldn't be a problem, but it would draw Aphrodite's attention to them and spoil any plans he might make for getting hold of the mortal. So he let his brother do what he wanted, knowing it would be over quick enough and he could do something about putting Deimos back in his place later.

"Anyway, that mortal is our way out from under Joxer," he continued, giving no sign that he felt the suddenly-oiled fingers pushing into him. "If we have him then our brother will have to do whatever we want. While we're holding that mortal hostage, we could have some fun with him too," he added with a wicked grin.

"So, what happens if we accidentally kill him? Would Joxer die too? He's a god and that's a mortal, would it make a difference?"

"I--" Phobos groaned as the fingers pushed deeper, rubbing against just the right spot. "I dunno," he went on, a bit more breathlessly than before. "Might be interesting to find out though."

The fingers stopped that wonderful stretching and rubbing as Deimos froze beside him. His voice carried more than a touch of fear when he spoke. "Find out? You mean...kill Joxer?"

Hearing it put that way, Phobos realized what he'd suggested, and he also realized that for once his twin was right. Joxer was many things to them: brother, conspirator, lover, tormenter, but most of all he was their Master. Once, years before their brother's birth, Deimos and Phobos had been on their own, free to do their own thing, but each would easily admit they were happier now that Joxer owned them. Despite their frequent escapes and rebellions, neither of them really wanted to change things.

"No," Phobos whispered. "No, we can't kill Joxer."

"No," Deimos agreed, withdrawing his fingers.

"But we can take his mortal," Phobos' tone hardened as his attention refocused on the God of Mischief's counterpart. He started to get up, but his brother pushed him back down.

"Yeah, we'll take him," Deimos promised, moving over his twin, "but first I'm gonna take you."

Phobos sighed in exasperation but relaxed under his brother. At least this would be fast and they could get on to having some real fun. Closing his eyes, Phobos imagined that it was the God of Mischief on top of him, shoving deep into him....

Aphrodite was feeling pretty proud of herself. She'd managed to make Joxer smile, even laugh a couple times. He seemed so much more comfortable around her now -- probably because she hadn't touched him again without permission. Maybe she did still have a few stray thoughts about tying him to a bed with silk scarves, but that was normal for her and she had no intention of acting on it.

For a while she'd succeeded in taking his mind off his situation here with pointless chatter about how things worked in her temples and why, but there was only so much of that she could do before it became boring. Fortunately by that time he'd relaxed some and was willing to actually talk with her instead of just listening.

Unlike the God of Mischief, this Joxer was turning out to be someone she could truly like. Not that Aphrodite hated her nephew, he was great in bed after all, but she didn't trust him one bit. That was a relationship Joxer had a problem understanding.

"If you don't like him then why do you sleep with him?" Joxer asked in confusion. "I wouldn't do that with anyone I didn't like -- not if I had a choice anyway."

Aphrodite noted the bitterness accompanying that last statement but let the matter drop for now. Maybe later she'd ask him more about his past, what happened to him before he came here to make him say that. For now she just answered him as best she could. "He's family." She shrugged, unable to come up with anything better.

Obviously that didn't satisfy Joxer's curiosity, but he didn't pursue it. Instead, after a moment's thought went off in another direction. "He told me something and now I'm not sure it's true. Well, I'm not sure anything he said is true." The bitterness returned and this time Aphrodite understood its cause.

"Joxer isn't always best buds with the truth," she agreed. "But maybe I can help or something. What'd he tell you?"

"He said there was a problem with him and your side of the family?" Joxer frowned in uncertainty.

Aphrodite snorted in disgusted amusement. "He would put it that way," she muttered. "It's way bigger than 'a problem.'"

"Yeah, that's what I thought, but he said something about taking care of it."

"Please." The God of Mischief's habit of understatement really got on her nerves. "All he did was save his own butt."

"Huh?"

"He fell in love," Aphrodite pointed out.

Joxer nodded but didn't look any less confused.

"Well if he wanted to do the happily ever after thing, he couldn't risk having me or Cupid after him, could he?" she prompted.

"Oh!" Understanding began to show in Joxer's dark eyes. "Does that mean he bribed you or something?"

"Pretty close. He promised that he'd never blackmail Cupie or me like he does the other gods, just as long as we never messed with him or his boy-toy. It was a totally cool deal. Too bad his mortal died and made it all pointless." She shrugged. "And that's something I never got. I mean, Joxer has some major studs worshipping him, so why go for that mortal?" Her nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Who did he fall in love with?"

"The 'King of Assassins.'" Aphrodite replied with a touch of sarcasm.

"Jett?"

"Who?" She frowned.

"In my world, my brother Jett calls himself that," Joxer explained.

"Never heard of him."

"Yeah, I guess he doesn't exist here. So who--" Joxer stopped speaking when Aphrodite stiffened beside him, her attention obviously focused somewhere else.

Throughout her little conversation with Joxer, Aphrodite had been keeping an eye on Cupid's temples. Not physically of course, but she'd left traces of her own power in them, sort of like a mental tripwire if another god came in contact with them. At that moment she'd felt something from her son's main temple and instantly she focused on it.

"Cupid's back," she announced, more to herself than the man next to her. "Look sweetie, I hate to leave you hanging like this, but I have to go have a little 'talk' with my boy." The tone of her voice didn't promise anything good for Cupid. "I don't want him getting ideas about leaving Ares with that pirate."

"He won't."

"What?" She hesitated. About to send herself to Cupid's temple, the certainty in Joxer's tone was enough to make her pause.

"I, um, I did something about that. I couldn't do much 'cause he really wanted to hurt Ares, but I made sure he had to end it soon."

"Like, how?"

Joxer smiled slightly. "When I saw the way Ares kept going after Nebula after Cupid shot him, I figured he'd be a real handful for her, see?"

"Yeah, keep going."

"Well, I also figured, even if Nebula thought it'd be fun to have Ares wanting her, she wouldn't have time for it if she had a job to do. So I sent her to Corinth to help Auto and Sal and she got Cupid to promise he'd free Ares before then."

Aphrodite considered that for a moment before smiling back at him. "That was really cool of you." She reached out to give his cheek a light squeeze. That made him blush.

"Really?" he asked hesitantly. "I mean, I thought I should do something but I wasn't sure that was the right thing."

"No, it was totally right! If you hadn't done that, there's no telling when Cupie would've freed bro'. Well I don't need to talk to him now. After Ares is back to normal, then I'll make sure it doesn't happen again," she decided. "Guess I'd better let Iphy know what's going on though. If he hears about it from gossip he'll probably start sulking or something and blame Ares."

"Did you make Ares and Iphicles fall in love?"

"What? Oh, no way! I wouldn't do that to bro' -- not like some gods," she added under her breath before continuing. "No, this is the real thing. They're totally into each other and it's so sweet!" She giggled slightly before standing. "I gotta go talk to the king, okay?"

Joxer nodded. "You'll be back?"

"Sure." She grinned, pleased that he wanted to see her again. But she didn't want to leave him just sitting there while she was gone. "I won't be too long but if you want something to do or somewhere to crash, you can stay in there." She turned to point to her temple. "My priestesses are all busy doing things so you probably won't even see them. But if you do and you're...up for it, they'd probably love to keep you company." She couldn't resist making the suggestion.

When she didn't receive a response to that she turned back to Joxer, afraid she might've offended him or something -- and she gasped in momentary shock. Recovering almost instantly, eyes narrowing in anger, she started to form a lightening bolt.

"You, um, probably don't wanna do that," Phobos said from his seat beside Joxer.

"Like he said," Deimos agreed from behind the bench. His grin carried more than a touch of insanity as he pulled Joxer back against him, his grip on Joxer's neck tight enough to make breathing a struggle.

Not wanting to put Joxer in any more danger, Aphrodite let the energy she'd built up dissipate. She'd have to do this another way. "You'll be in some serious trouble if you don't let him go," she warned.

"Why? Because he belongs to our brother?" Phobos' red, painted lips turned up in a smug smile. "I don't think it's a problem, seeing that Joxer's not exactly in the neighborhood right now. What d'you think?"

Aphrodite didn't reply but silently cursed. Of course the God of Mischief's brothers would be the first to notice his absence -- and the first to exploit it.

Joxer looked frightened but not surprised. He didn't try to struggle which was probably a good idea. Deimos wasn't known for his patience and might just snap Joxer's neck and be done with it.

"Well, we have to be going." Phobos maintained his fake polite attitude as he stood. When his brother grinned hungrily at him, he shot a glare at Deimos before tugging his black leather skirt down some.

"Hey, thanks for bringing us a new toy, Aunt 'Dite!" Deimos said brightly, then gave one of his usual grating giggles.

Before Aphrodite could give Joxer any reassurance that she'd try to get him out of this, the two gods disappeared in twin bubbles of blue light, Joxer vanishing with them.

othing changed. The maps spread out on the table were accurate to a degree that no mortal-made one could ever hope to be, the multi-colored markers indicating the current positions of troops and supplies updated themselves whenever necessary, but all of it told the same story it had for months now. Armies were fragmenting, soldiers deserting more every day only to turn up in the nearest settlements to raze them to the ground, looting and killing along the way, and never for any purpose. The behavior of all but the most disciplined of soldiers was becoming increasingly erratic, illogical, and there was nothing the God of War could seem to do about it. Certainly he couldn't do anything about the chaos that was starting to affect the Greek people in general; it was completely outside of his influence.

So far the worst of the erratic behavior was confined to those who were used to violence: soldiers, assassins, street thugs, but it was slowly spreading. Even the most docile, peace-loving mortals had the occasional wicked impulse, and now, with nothing to help them focus past it, it wouldn't be long before everyone in Greece began to give into whatever random, twisted thought turned up in their minds.

Deimos and Phobos had done their best, Ares had to give them that much credit. They'd tried to channel all of those impulses, wishes and desires, but they weren't made for it. They didn't know exactly how or even where to channel it all and the results had been too chaotic, so unpredictable that Ares had ordered them to stop before there was a repeat of the "transplant Zeus' temples" accident. Not that they hadn't looked better down in Tartarus, but who could blame Hades for objecting?

It wasn't as though the God of War could do any better than his sons, or any god could, for that matter. They all had a job, a purpose, that was specific to them and no other god could take over that area. They were necessary in what they did for the Greek people, but that wasn't something that could be easily seen -- at least not until something this drastic made it obvious. Strife had been an essential part of a large force, composed of gods, that controlled the extremes of mortal behavior. He'd been a small part, true, but sometimes when even the smallest part was taken out of a complex machine, it all fell to pieces.

Still Ares continued to stare at the maps laid out before him; he didn't know what else to do. The mortals loyal to him were depending on their god to come up with an answer before things grew so bad as to be irreparable. He knew he was stalling for time at this point, but it just wasn't in the God of War's nature to admit defeat, even if it was inevitable.

"Lord Ares; I brought someone to see you."

He hadn't given any specific orders not to be disturbed, but the implication was there since he hadn't invited any of the mortals outside into his presence. It was annoying and Ares allowed that to show, but as he looked up at the intruders, he didn't reveal any of the vague relief he felt at the distraction -- relief that suddenly became almost crushing when he saw one of the men.

Joxer had disappeared days ago, although it felt more like months. Ares had looked -- discreetly, of course -- throughout Greece with no results. He knew Joxer wouldn't leave the country without saying something to him so he'd reluctantly, and with more than a little trepidation, made a few inquiries in the Underworld. Fortunately that hadn't turned up anything either. But that had only left one option, and Ares wasn't sure he liked that one any better than the last.

The vortex had been opened. By whom? No one knew, or they just weren't saying. For what reason? It seemed ridiculous that a god would use that kind of power just to dispose of a mortal in a way that prevented another god from retrieving him without considerable risk. That was, unless someone had figured out that Joxer was more than just a convenient fuck or a way to get at Xena. There were one or two of the other gods who might hate Ares enough, or have enough interest in his affairs, to go to that kind of trouble. But it was a stretch. The only other believable option was that the vortex had opened accidentally and Joxer had fallen through on his own. The problem with that theory was that it just had too much coincidence for the God of War to completely buy it.

The only thing he knew for certain was that Joxer had vanished the same day the vortex had opened. When it'd opened again, he'd hoped that it would bring Joxer back but he couldn't afford the time it would take to search and confirm that. Not with things falling apart the way they were. Besides, he knew Joxer would find him. It was the way they usually did things after all. And Joxer had. He was here and for a moment Ares felt the weight of increasing problems lift from his shoulders.

For a very brief moment. Then he saw "Joxer's" eyes.

"Perdix," Ares acknowledged the general standing beside...whoever that was with Joxer's face. "Out," he ordered. He knew lack of anger in his tone or actions was enough for Perdix to understand that Ares approved of his bringing "Joxer" into the temple.

The general bowed before exiting the temple, leaving Ares with the imposter. A flick of power and the temple doors slammed shut. The man in Joxer's armor didn't flinch in the slightest at the crashing noise, but his whole outward manner shifted just the same. The goofy smile disappeared and his weight fell back on one foot, a deceptively small move that put him in a good position to either defend or attack.

If not for the vortex, Ares would've assumed this was Jett. The man certainly had the same cold, calm air about him and, what had tipped Ares off to begin with, that same light in his eyes that spoke of a mind accustomed to frequent visits on the other side of sanity. But he knew Jett, knew that the King of Assassins was still in prison. There was Jace, but there was no way, even with his life on the line, that that particular brother would ever put on Joxer's clothing. That left the vortex, and whomever this was who'd had come out of it.

"Well?" Ares crossed his arms over his chest, keeping his expression free of everything but dangerous impatience. That normally had anyone in his presence stumbling over themselves to get to the point before he killed them in some extremely messy and painful way.

Apparently "normal" didn't apply here. The man just smirked and for some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, Ares found that expression very disturbing.

"You have my attention," he let actual annoyance creep into his tone. "Now you'd better hope that whatever you're gonna say doesn't bore me." A prompt to get the imposter talking disguised as a blatant warning; it was the closest Ares would get to asking the man to tell him just what in Tartarus was going on.

"You know, I don't think that's gonna be a problem." "Joxer" crossed his arms over his chest, his smirk widening. "You're gonna be real interested in this." The voice was Joxer's, but not the words. In fact, just like that irritating smirk, there was something annoyingly familiar about how this man spoke, how he moved.

"I'm waiting," Ares said overly-calmly when "Joxer" didn't continue. That got him a further widening of that smirk and now he was certain there was something about it, about the man's entire manner, that he should recognize. He just couldn't quite pin down what exactly it was.

"How about we start with a little story?"

The amusement in the man's voice made Ares clench his teeth but he just raised an eyebrow instead of saying anything. Despite how downright annoying this version of Joxer was turning out to be, it wouldn't do any good to piss him off or try to kill him when this world's Joxer was still missing and Ares had no real knowledge about this one. Better to wait it out, see where this went, *then* he could think about creative ways to dismember and dispose of this little twit.

The makeshift armor clanked slightly as "Joxer" leaned back against the nearest column, crossing his legs at his ankles. "Once upon a time," a grin there, "there was a dude standing outside one of Ares' old temples just passing' the time, tossing some daggers for practice, know what I mean? Things were going okay, normal enough day and all, when suddenly this huge mother of a vortex just up and opens, almost right on top of him. So he figures, 'cool, entertainment,' right? Then it gets weird. See, that's when another dude just drops right outta the thing, kinda goes splat on the ground, and then vortex closes up -- which is totally cool too, but the first dude's more into figuring out who the new guy is to catch that show. He goes to check it out, and that's when the new guy sits up, and what d'you know? They've both got the same face!" The incredulity in his voice was as false as it was sarcastic.

Ares started drumming his fingers on the table before him. There was a point here somewhere, he was sure, but this moron -- suicidal moron if he kept this up -- was taking his time about getting to it and doing a fine job of pissing off Ares while he was at it. Maybe that finally got through to the idiot because the smirk suddenly disappeared and his expression turned serious as he pushed away from the column.

"Okay, long story short," he said, taking a few slow steps towards the table but stopping well beyond Ares' reach, "Joxer's in my world 'cause someone tossed him there and I've been doing my best to make him feel real at home there, get it?" He winked.

Oh yeah, Ares got it. It nearly made him grind his teeth but he understood just fine. If another version of himself suddenly showed up in front of him one of the first things on his mind would be fucking his counterpart into unconsciousness, right after seeing how much they could make each other bleed with their bare fists, of course. Just because he understood, though, didn't mean he was going to simply shrug it off; Joxer was his and no one, not even some alternate version of his Joxer, touched what belonged to him. This annoying piece of slime was a dead man walking as of now.

But it wouldn't be smart to show any of that, to let this man think he'd in any way found a hold on the God of War. There weren't many people who knew that Ares had taken Joxer to his bed and even the majority of those that did know thought Joxer was nothing more than a momentary amusement for him, a toy he'd discard at any time. Ares wasn't sure which category this man fell into, wasn't sure this "Joxer" knew anything at all -- he could be bluffing his way through this -- but Ares wasn't going to give him anything to use against him.

"So why isn't he here with you?" Ares asked, his even tone betraying nothing of his thoughts. "For that matter, why bother me at all?" He snorted, feigning indifference. "The mortal is...entertaining, at times, but if you're looking for someone to care about his little interdimensional vacation, you're in the wrong place."

"Am I, now?" The man's eyes narrowed slightly, appraisingly as he watched Ares.

Ares wasn't quite sure what to make of that expression, or the way it seemed to instinctively put him on guard. He studied the man in return, noting every similarity between him and the Joxer of this world, and every difference. Those differences, slight as they were, lay not just in his eyes, but in the feel of his presence, something Ares hadn't noticed right off. Now that the man was a bit closer though, Ares swore that there was something off about him, something naggingly familiar and he knew he should recognize it because as wrong as this Joxer felt, he also felt strangely right in some way, almost as if--

"Aiaiaiai!" the familiar cry was audible even inside the temple and Ares' attention immediately went to the nearest window. The temple windows weren't large and this one only gave him a partial view of the courtyard outside, but that was enough. The flash of a twirling staff, glint of blond curls and a purple vest, the sound of bodies hitting the side of his temple; no doubt at all about the identity of his "visitors."

"Great, all four of them," he said with a low growl.

"Fuck!" The word and the hiss accompanying it momentarily distracted Ares from the approaching problems and he looked over at "Joxer." "They shouldn't even have their asses outta bed yet!" The man's expression was a cross between annoyance and true anger, but an instant later it was gone and he seemed utterly calm again, a rather impressive bit of acting work but he'd already given plenty away.

"I take it I have you to thank for this?" Ares waved a hand in the general direction of the commotion outside.

"Joxer" flashed him a slight smirk. "Yeah, you could say that. Ran into them then ditched 'em leagues back. What'd they do, sprout wings or something?" The annoyance was back in his tone.

"They have horses, and if I lose any of my warlords 'cause of you, I'm gonna show you new definitions of pain," Ares promised with a dark scowl.

"Yeah, well, we can play 'fun with sharp things' later, right now I'm thinking' we'd better bail before the Morons of Morality make like a wrecking crew."

"What?" His scowl turned to a frown as he tried to figure out what the man had just said.

Rolling his eyes, "Joxer" planted his hands on his hips. "I said, let's get outta here before Xena, Hercules and their little sidekicks tear this place down; with me now?"

That whole stance, the way the man wore that "get a clue" expression...now Ares knew there was something right here in front of him, literally, that he should be picking up on. It was so familiar he could almost touch it, like he'd seen this behavior, heard these words before, felt this strangely right presence and if he just--

Once again his thoughts were scattered, this time by the temple doors rocking under the force of an enormous blow.

"Ares! Let us in or we're making our own door!" Hercules' voice was muffled but still easily understood.

"At least he's learning to knock," Ares muttered to himself as the doors trembled again, the stone frame around them grinding audibly.

"Staying or going?"

The question drew Ares' attention back to "Joxer" who was now wearing an expression that seemed to declare a total lack of interest in Ares' answer. That dismissive attitude was guaranteed to get on Ares' nerves.

"You know, I think it may be interesting to just let them have you," he said as the doors bulged inward under the next blow, the sound of snapping wood echoing loudly in the temple. "I'm sure Xena's eager to 'ask' you a few things about where their friend is." He may not have cared for the path Xena traveled now or her companions -- most of them anyway -- but she did look after her friends and where Hercules would restrain himself, she wouldn't, not if she though Joxer were in danger and this...imposter had information about it. And if he stood back and let her take over, there was a good chance he'd learn everything he needed to know without having to bargain with a man who seemed to have no respect for a god, and certainly no fear where he should. An observation proven when "Joxer" simply shrugged, showing a complete lack of concern for Ares' threat.

"Whatever floats your boat," the man said with casual disinterest. "'Course, when they start asking and I start talking, I'm thinking I'll tell them everything, see what they think of you shacking up with their 'sweet, innocent little friend.'" The sarcasm was subtle but definitely there. "I mean, we both know exactly how 'sweet' Joxer is," he grinned lecherously, "but innocent? Nah. Try telling them that, though." He motioned to the door which at that moment shattered under Hercules' fists.

Ares looked from his half brother who was quickly shoving the remains of the door aside, back to the imposter who watched him calmly, one eyebrow raised. "Fuck." The word came out through clenched teeth; it wasn't like he had much choice here and they both knew it.

"Joxer" waggled his fingers at the four heroes now rushing into the temple. "See you," he said with a smirk just before Ares transported them both out of there--

--and into the main room of his temple in Corinth.

The place was deserted, something that even a few weeks ago would've been out of the ordinary but with more and more mortals starting to lose control, Ares had every priest and priestess in his service out trying to keep the peace in the cities as best they could. Given that they were devoted to the God of War, that usually consisted of cracking whatever skull looked appropriate at the time and so far it was keeping things under control amongst the more lawless population, but it was only a temporary measure.

The other Olympians had done the same, ordering whomever in their services still inclined to obey them to go out and try to stem the tide, so to speak. Even the vainest among them realized that having their temples tended to was less important than trying to keep Greece from imploding and Ares had to admit that though they'd all done what they could, it just wasn't enough. Already the various priests and priestesses were starting to lose ground as the erratic behavior became more widespread. Any further progression and the gods would have to call their followers back in -- assuming they were in any state of mind to listen by that time -- or risk being left without any hard-core worshipers.

The situation continued to deteriorate daily and Ares knew that under the circumstances his efforts were better spent trying to come up with another solution, no matter how temporary, instead of pursuing a lost mortal lover. But that was more complicated than it seemed and logic wasn't playing a big part in this particular decision. He wanted Joxer back and that meant prying the information from this alternate version of his lover.

Mortals tended to have a hard time with godly transportation and Ares knew he'd have to give the man a minute or two to let the world stop spinning before beating some answers out of him if necessary -- and Ares really hoped it would be necessary. Except...when Ares looked at him, the imposter didn't seem at all disoriented or ill, not at all like the Joxer from this world. Every time Ares transported him, the mortal would collapse the instant they reached their destination. This man however, he just stood there looking around the place with a critical eye, as though he'd simply walked in off the street instead of moving hundreds of leagues in the space of a mortal heartbeat.

"Not bad," the man commented in an appraising tone. "I mean, kind of on the dusty and neglected side, but it's got a kind of chaotic, 'just been trashed in a fight' look, so that's cool."

Ares had always kept his temples if not sparkling clean then at least neat enough. He wasn't normally vain when it came to how they looked but in this case, with all of his followers out trying to keep the Greek population from turning into a rabid mob and with Ares not having the time or power to spare to keep his temples in shape, the words hit a nerve.

He'd had it with this twisted, irreverent version of Joxer who currently had his back turned to the God of War, running a finger over a marble statue to apparently check for dust. Ares growled, the sound just this side of subvocal but to anyone the least bit familiar with him it was a signal to vacate the area immediately.

Chains, yeah. First, Ares decided, he'd chain the impudent little shit down so he couldn't move, then he'd start cutting, just a little at first until he figured out the man's pain tolerance, then he'd push it further. He was going to teach this bastard new meanings of "agony" and when he was done there wouldn't be anything recognizable left and he'd have his answers.

"So, we gonna stand around here all day or do you care about what happened to lover-boy?" the man asked in that same annoyingly calm, dismissive voice he'd used before, the one that really pissed off Ares.

"Oh, you're gonna tell me all about Joxer, believe me," Ares promised, hand clenching the hilt of his sword reflexively as he thought about what bones he should break first -- and then "Joxer" moved. It wasn't anything drastic, just a small, habitual reaction, more of a twitch probably. He cracked his neck -- and Ares' plans came crashing to a halt as everything fell into place.

Ares just stared. All the air seemed to have somehow been sucked from the temple and there was a strange tightness in his chest as he stared at the man before him. Every little detail, things he'd noticed before but hadn't fully grasped their significance, it was all there now, so plain to see. The way "Joxer" stood, weight back on one foot, arms either crossed or hands on his hips, the way he moved, so fluid it bordered on serphentine, the sarcastic tilt of his head when he spoke, and the words...how could he have missed that? Ares had known something was off about the way the imposter spoke, he just hadn't made the right connection and now that he had, he didn't see how he'd overlooked it to begin with. Everything about this stranger standing in his temple practically screamed one thing.

"Fuck me!" Ares whispered, barely aware that the words had left his mouth until "Joxer" turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk that Ares now remembered clearly.

"Now there's something my Ares would never say to me." The comment was accompanied by a short giggle, one that nearly made Ares wince as the present touched painful memories. Then both of "Joxer's" eyebrows went up and his smirk widened. "Figured it out, huh? About time! I was starting to wonder about you there, doing the clueless routine. Thought that was more Cupid's gig than yours."

"God of Mischief," Ares had to say it aloud, maybe then he could accept it, what he was seeing.

"In my world, yeah, totally."

Ares just shook his head, almost feeling the world tilt around him. Joxer was...many things, most of them good, but whatever this was standing here, it had none of Joxer's innate goodness, the thing that drew Ares despite himself. This was like seeing his nephew with his lover's face, everything that made Joxer the man Ares had grown attached to was gone and this was just wrong in ways mere words couldn't begin to touch upon.

"Strife?" he whispered the name.

That got him an unreadable look from the other god -- and he was a god; Ares could feel it now, the sense of another divine presence that he'd overlooked before perhaps because of how achingly familiar it was. A presence so like this one had accompanied him for years and maybe he'd missed it so much that, subconsciously, he'd just accepted this substitute when it was presented to him.

"No," the other god said, his voice strangely calm, subdued compared to his earlier flamboyant sarcasm. "My name's Joxer, just like the mortal you...misplaced."

And that yanked Ares out of the shock sentiment had sent him into, reminding him of just what was important here. This Joxer had the information Ares needed, but he was a mischief god and Ares had already made the mistake of underestimating him, it wouldn't happen again. He'd have to be careful about what he said and did; this god was likely far more clever than his mortal counterpart; Ares didn't want him getting any more of an advantage than what he already had.

"I didn't 'misplace' Joxer," Ares said, watching him closely, "another god must've pushed him into the vortex."

"Discord; yeah, I know. Question is, why weren't you keeping a better eye on him?" Glancing down at the armor he wore, Joxer wrinkled his nose. "And why didn't you get him a better fashion sense? These have got to go." A muted flash of light and the armor was replaced with plain black leather pants and boots and a front-laced, dark blue silk shirt. Simple and yet far more elegant than what his counterpart had always worn. Another flash and black wrist guards completed the picture, making Joxer smile. "Like, way better. Couldn't move the way I wanted to in that metal crap; made fighting a real bitch."

So it had been Discord. If Ares had laid odds on which god was the most likely suspect in Joxer's disappearance, she would've been the favorite to win. It was actually a bit disappointing; she had to know she was the first one he'd suspect, her motives were obvious and she'd made the mistake of doing things herself and leaving a witness alive; he'd taught her better than that. Apparently she saw Joxer as a very real threat to her position as Ares' favorite and had let her emotions get in the way of making clear decisions; he'd have to correct that little flaw in her character, just as soon as he finished correcting her for messing with his property. At least that was what he'd tell her; he needed to disabuse her of the notion that Joxer was any threat at all to her so she could never know that Ares valued him above the level of personal property. The problem was, he was fairly certain that this God of Mischief was well aware of how Ares felt about the mortal Joxer and that posed all kinds of potential problems. How exactly this was going to play out he couldn't be sure, not until he got the little bastard to talk.

"Is Joxer all right?" That was admitting to much more than Ares cared to, but he suspected that if he didn't lay a few cards on the table, this god would keep the game going indefinitely.

"For someone who said he doesn't care, that sure sounded worried to me." Joxer smirked at him, an expression too reminiscent of the one Strife had always worn for Ares to be comfortable looking at it.

"Just tell me what you want and how to get Joxer back," Ares said, his patience coming to an abrupt end. "In case you haven't noticed we've got problems here and I don't have the time to play your little games!"

Joxer looked at him for a few moments in silence, his gaze frankly assessing. "Kind of disappointing," he finally said, his tone flat. "I mean, my Ares always plays, or at least he knows how to get information outta me way better than you. I was hoping you'd be fun but this is like, a total waste of my time. I guess we move on."

"Just talk before I put you through the wall!" Ares was sick of this and his fingers itched to wrap around Joxer's neck and throttle some answers out of him.

"Is that all you know? Basic violence?" Joxer snorted in contempt. "Fine, but you really gotta learn some new stuff; keeps life from getting dull."

"That's it." Focusing a small amount of power, Ares formed a ball of fire in his hand and aimed.

Joxer just rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Joxer was fine when I left him; Ares, 'Dite and Cupid are keeping him company. We really clicked when we were hanging, me and him, but he's all stuck on you and if you want him back, he's wanting to come back, dig?"

Ares was fairly sure he'd understood most of that and he did his best not to show it, but the relief was intense. Joxer still wanted him, loved him if he was reading between the lines right.

"Fine." He let the fireball dissipate. "I'll open the vortex, you bring Joxer back to me, then get outta my world." It was an order only very thinly disguised as a suggestion.

Joxer smirked and simply shook his head.

As used to obedience as he was, even from other gods, at first Ares wasn't quite sure he'd seen that right. "What?" he said, and his tone was deadly calm.

"No, see, I've been thinking about it and it looks like you all need some help here."

Ares' first, instinctive response was to deny that, a response he fought back down. As much he despised admitting to an outsider that he hadn't been able to handle this himself, to deny it would only make him look even more foolish. It had to be obvious to a Mischief god that something was very wrong here, likely Joxer could feel on a level other gods couldn't, simply because of what he was, the job he was made to perform.

"We have...problems," Ares admitted grudgingly, "but we don't need you."

"You need a Mischief god," Joxer said, and suddenly all his amusement vanished and he regarded Ares with an utterly serious expression. "This place is headed towards seriously fucked up and quick. There's nothing you or any of the other gods can do about it, and we both know it. Now, here's what I'm gonna do, I'm gonna pick up some of the slack -- just a little, just 'till I see how I like hanging here, follow me?"

"Just out of the 'goodness of your heart,' right?" Ares didn't bother to keep the sarcasm from his tone.

Joxer snorted, a singularly unamused sound. "Yeah. Something like that."

So he had an agenda, that came as no surprise to Ares, the hard part would be getting Joxer to reveal it. "So you're just going to abandon your world? Leave it to suffer this fate?" He motioned vaguely, to the world outside the temple.

Joxer smiled, just slightly. "It'll be fine, for a while. This place didn't go to shit overnight, did it? My world'll be good. Long enough for me to check out the scene here, anyway."

If there was one thing Ares was certain of here, it was that he didn't want this god around any longer than necessary. Ares couldn't read him, couldn't predict him, and that didn't sit well at all. He'd go to another pantheon for help before he'd accept some nutjob from another world and he was fairly certain the rest of the family would see it the same way, especially if they met...this.

"Besides, there's always your Joxer in my world." Joxer shrugged. "If I think the job's cooler here, Ares'll just make your Joxer over for my job. I mean, wouldn't be a big stretch. The guy is me, just about as fly too. Wouldn't take much, some training -- and I bet Ares is already doing that, just in case, you know?" He winked. "Anyway, training, new wardrobe, ambrosia, and bam, you got a new God of Mischief. Not as broken in though, but I just know Ares is gonna enjoy that part even more."

Self-control wasn't something Ares practiced a great deal, but somehow he managed to hold himself back now. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around Joxer's throat and squeeze, but he also knew it wouldn't do any good. That was the bad part of facing another god, physical pain tended not to have the same impact it did on mortals. If this Mischief god was anything like Strife had been, physical force would likely accomplish the opposite of the intended effect, and Ares really didn't need that. He couldn't let Joxer's words pass unchallenged though; he'd appear weak.

"All right." He took a deep breath, calming himself, fighting back the urge to reach for the nearest sharp implement. "Two things here. One, regardless of what we need, we don't want you here. We. As in all of us. Two, I'm going to go have a little talk with Zeus and once he's finished re-explaining one to you -- and I doubt it'll be a pleasant explanation -- I'm sure he'll be happy to help me throw you back into your world. I think I'll follow along too, make sure I get my property back, undamaged." Ares smirked as he rested his hip against the edge of the table next to him.

"Yeah, that'll work." Joxer returned the smirk and there was a definite condescending edge to his expression. "First, the Ares in my world would eat you alive, and not in a good way. Second, if you're talking about Joxer like he's some sort of personal plaything, then I'm thinking he's gonna be totally better off over there. He'll get way more respect in my job. Third, Zeus sounds like a blast, bring the bad boy on. Actually, why don't you just tell the whole family while you're at it? I'll wanna meet them if I'm gonna be working with them. Tartarus, why don't you just write up a big announcement? Post it in your temples? Introduce me to the world, huh? In fact, you can borrow my quill."

Joxer's entire attitude, the amused flippancy, had Ares staring at him incredulously. He automatically caught the quill Joxer tossed at him, only belatedly registering the fact that a feather shouldn't have traveled the distance between them with that much speed or force.

Looking down at the quill in his hand, Ares sucked in a breath with a hiss. He knew this feather, knew it by sight and feel, the weight of it more than any mortal feather; he definitely knew its origins.

"Cupid!" he shouted, calling for his son on an instinctive reaction. Only silence answered his summons.

Joxer stood there watching him, hands on his hips, eyebrows raised in mild curiosity. "Not too obedient, is he? Wanna try again?"

Ares didn't bother, he didn't have to. The connection he felt to his children told him Cupid was still alive, but it told him nothing of Cupid's whereabouts or his condition. A cold tendril of...something, some strange emotion curled inside Ares. He refused to put a name to it. Instead he forced himself to ignore it and try to gather as much information as he could.

"Where is he?" he asked quietly, certain now that shouts and demands would get him nothing but amused contempt.

Joxer smirked. "Tied up and tied down, but...safe. For now."

Everything in Ares screamed for him to attack, to force the answers from this foreign god with his fists and blades. Violence was in his nature and to deny it went against all that seemed right to him, but he was more than the sum of his instincts and he refused to allow his desires to jeopardize both his son and his lover. This...this Joxer would pay, for everything, for his insolence to a superior god, for touching Ares' property, and most definitely for daring to take Cupid, but it would all have to come later, once all that was important to Ares was safe. Then...then he'd take his revenge. For now though, patience was the key, even in the face of the malicious amusement he could see in Joxer's expression.

"What d'you want?" The words grated as they came out, betraying Ares' hatred of both the situation and Joxer. The words themselves were a capitulation, an acknowledgement that Ares no longer had control here -- if he ever had at all -- that Joxer was in charge, and Ares despised him for that.

Joxer looked mildly surprised at the question, although it was likely as a fake an emotion as they all seemed to be on him. "What do I want? I already told you that. I'm gonna hang here a while, check out the scene, give you all the, uh, benefit of my vast experience." He spread his arms out wide. "I'm gonna fix all your problems."

Ares' fists clenched, knuckles itching to connect with skin and bone. "When do we get Cupid back?"

"Oh...eventually." Joxer chuckled. Dropping his arms, he turned in a slow circle, seeming to study every inch of the temple. "You know, these are some nice digs. I gotta have a place to crash while I'm getting busy here, so, tell me," he stopped, looking directly at Ares with raised eyebrows, "where're your late God of Mischief's temples?"

Ares wasn't quite sure why, but the question made him wince. "He...Strife didn't have temples."

"Really?" The eyebrows went higher. "Shrines then. I can get hooked up at one of those babies."

"No shrines." Again Ares couldn't pinpoint the reason, but answering that made him more than a little uncomfortable.

"Oh, is that right? Huh." Joxer crossed his arms over his chest, a falsely thoughtful look on his face. "Lemme get this straight, your God of Mischief didn't have any temples or shrines, but he worked for you, right? So didn't you think he should get a little something? He didn't deserve someplace of his own?"

Ares' patience snapped. "Look, Strife didn't need any of that. He was a minor god, unimportant!"

"Unimportant. Right. Yeah, one look out there and I can see just how 'unimportant' he was."

"That wasn't what I meant." Ares bit back a snarl.

"No, that's okay, I get it. You just meant he was unimportant to you." Joxer's smile was anything but pleasant. "Well, guess you won't have a problem with me filling his boots for a while then, huh?"

Gritting his teeth, Ares let his hand rest on the hilt of his sword, caressing the pommel in a habitual action that gave him some much-needed calm. "You couldn't even begin to do that," he said coldly.

Joxer's smile turned just as cool. "Yeah, well I guess we'll see, won't we? And about Cupid? Get in my way, mess with me, get me pissed off at all, and I'll bring you some more feathers, dig?"

Ares nodded once, curtly.

"Good to see that we're communicating." Joxer flashed him a jarringly bright grin -- and vanished in a column of blue flame.

So much like Strife -- if Strife had ever lived to reach his full potential. Ares couldn't help thinking that, even though there were so many other, more important things to consider. Strife had always been so...young. He'd never really matured, even as he'd gotten older, hadn't harnessed the power available to him through mortals. Now Ares had to wonder how much of that fault could lie with him. Oh, he wasn't completely responsible for Strife, Strife had always had his own mind, after all, but he could've trained his nephew a little better, shown him a few more tricks for gaining power within the Pantheon. He was already doing that with Deimos, and he had to wonder if he hadn't been subconsciously trying to make up for an earlier mistake.

Ares shook his head, dismissing the thoughts. Now wasn't the time to be second guessing himself; he'd have centuries for that once this current problem was solved. Not that he had any ideas on solving it.

Joxer had left his hands effectively tied. Do anything against him and Cupid suffered. Normally a threat like that wouldn't have stopped Ares; Cupid was his son and had the endurance of a War god when he needed it. But this was different. This wasn't a god from their world so what was to keep him from going against the laws set down by Zeus here? What would stop him from killing Cupid if he felt it was necessary? Ares couldn't risk that. It wasn't just a matter of loving his son, although he wouldn't deny that, it was also what the loss of such an important god would do to a world already suffering from the first loss.

Greece would be affected first, as it was now with Strife's death, but it would spread and the other Pantheons would feel the weight of the imbalance. Without Love, war would break out and no single War god, not even all of them combined would be able to control it. There would be no harnessing a power that large, no stemming it, and in the end chaos would reign even faster than where it was heading now.

Ares was left with few choices. Seek help of any kind and risk angering Joxer. That left out going to Zeus, or any of the other gods for that matter. Any solution he found would have to come from himself, from whatever he could do on his own. And there had to be a way. Whatever role Joxer played as the God of Mischief in his own world, he wasn't there now. He was here, in Ares' territory. There had to be an advantage to that, a foreign god in an unknown land. Ares just had to find Joxer's weakness, what made him vulnerable here, what would make him useless. Then the situations would be reversed, and Joxer would pay.