Love Sick
by Arianwen P. F. Everett
Disclaimer: I do not own Xena, Gabrielle, Ares (although I do so wish I could own Kevin Smith), Aphrodite, Cupid, or Cyrene. Please don't sue me, I sometimes have to skip meals to save enough each month for this account. I'd hate to have to give up such a prosperous lifestyle.
WARNING: Rated R due to bawdy sexual references. Those easily offended by such material have my complete permission to go jump in a lake. NO ALTERNATIVE stuff. I personally think Xena and Gabrielle are both Bi-sexual, but find the relationship too cute and normal. I prefer the dysfunctional sexual tension between Xena and Ares.
No one on Mt. Olympus gave much thought to the mortal condition referred to as 'the flu'. After all, they were safe being Gods. Sometimes Apollo would study it, but he was the God of medicine and healing. No one else really had to care, right?
That was until one day, after returning from Earth, Aphrodite let out a grand sneeze, right in the middle of Zeus’s throne room.
And then the Gods cared. As this years strain of flu swept through the earth, making human beings miserable, it spread even faster through Olympus, and soon, the uninfected Gods were scrambling for a safe haven till the illness passed.
At first, Ares had considered himself lucky to escape the dreaded 'Olympic Flu', as the mortals called it. By the time he was back in his fortress on the great mountain, he'd wished he'd been hit by an even more unpleasant version of the disease, if only to have escaped what had happened to him on Earth.
Perhaps he had first gone wrong in his choice of lodgings. He had decided to stay in Amphipolis because no one there was yet sick. He had decided to take a room in Xena's mother's inn, just to be a jerk, and torment the poor woman. Ultimately, pissing off Xena, which was always so rewarding in its own right.
He had spent the first three days of his exile locked in his room, doing nothing by human standards, monitoring all the wars all over the Earth, via his powers.
As Apollo's chariot sailed across the sky, this morning without its sick owner, he was rudely awakened by the object of his recent lustful dreams storming into his room, demanding that he leave the inn, and the village of Amphipolis, immediately. The blue of her eyes flashing like sunlight off a swords point. At that moment, part of him wanted to strike her for her impudence, demanding anything of him. The other part wanted to tumble her into the bed, and show her the advantages of a lover with the power of an army of men at more than just his fingertips.
He never got the chance to make a decision to any course of action, as all of a sudden, she grabbed him by his shoulders, and firmly planted her mouth against his in a kiss more devastating, then anything any warlord since her retirement could have done with a sword.
As Xena pressed him down to the bed beneath him, something in his brain (damned the thing) screamed about the wrongness of the situation. His ego and libido teamed up and quickly slit the doubts throat. Nothing was wrong with what was about to happen, happening.
Suddenly, two things happened. First that wretched little bard of hers walked into the room, and screamed, and then, a moment later, he felt a firm punch connect with his jaw. "Don't you ever do anything like that again!" a flushed Xena yelled in fury, wiping her lips roughly with her right arm.
"What?" Ares asked, still a bit in shock from the kiss.
"Xena, you were kissing him!" Gabrielle testified in disgust.
"I would never kiss the likes of him!" Xena stated storming out of the room, glaring daggers at both her best friend and greatest enemy. Once she'd left, Ares lay back on the bed, rubbing his jaw. A smile smeared across his lips. If this meant what he thought it meant, then Aphrodite and her revolting minions must all really be under the weather, and while the cat's away...
He got up, then transported himself to the nearby lake. Taking sword in hand, he quickly went through his morning battle drills. His unscrupulous plotting fell away, as his instincts took over, and he moved through the forms, each movement precise. He dodged, parried, tumbled, and flipped, each time, totally slaughtering his unseen combatants. Each death blow more sweetly sanguine than the last, but not sweet enough. Fighting an imaginary foe was uneventful, and without another fighting against you, held no thrill.
He finished his last exercise, then stretched. He looked at the cool inviting water and decided to take a swim, use his muscles instead of his automatic reflexes using him. He removed his armor, then his leather vest, leaving him exposed from the waist up. He walked over to the edge of the lake, and splashed a little of the water onto his face and neck, running some of it through his hair, to cool himself off a bit from the mild exertion.
The next minute he heard a faint noise, and a Cheshire cat's grin broadened across his face. The only one who moved that stealthily and wasn't running a high temperature, was the raven-haired warrior princess, and if she wanted to go for a swim too, the more the merrier.
He felt her presence come out of the clearing from behind him. He felt joyful, as he felt the surge of emotion fueling his companion. He could sense her movements intricately, and he realized them for what they were, she wanted to fight, to spar with a worthy opponent, and he had to admit that he'd been wanting the same thing too just a few seconds ago. He felt the call to battle pumping through his veins, as it sounded through hers simultaneously. It was like they were two limbs of the same creature, separate, yet one. The sound seemed to build, louder and louder and louder and louder and louder, till it exploded into a symphony of clattering steel, blade meeting blade, as he blocked her charge at him.
He forced her back, then went on the offensive, hacking away at her, each strike only striking metal, as he expected. She was too good to make a mistake this early in the game, and he didn't want her to. He wanted to prolong the sweet agony of a battle, the feeling of being outside yourself, all your senses overloading, as your body worked itself harder and harder. It was a moment of clarity, of pure worry-free existing.
He felt his lungs taking in oxygen, as he threw himself into the air, flipping over easily, gracefully, landing far enough behind her to be out of the reach of her sword for a few moments. She slowly turned around, confident he would not charge her from behind. That would be too easy. Both their bodies felt languid, as if they had released a great deal of tension in these few minutes, and she smiled a feral smile, promising more of a fight lay ahead than behind. He couldn't help but smile and laugh like a nervous teenager in response to her.
They were both euphoric, and with a silent agreement, they charged at each other, swords bared, and the battle began again, continuing most of the morning.
It finally ended with Ares, sweat pouring into his eyes, barely skimming Xena's forearm with his blade. There was a bleeding cut, but nothing too deep, as he stopped his attack, exhaustion weighing them both down. He grabbed her hand gently, turning her arm to a better position for him to inspect the cut. She too watched the trickle of blood, rolling drown to her elbow, then dripping off.
Suddenly he had a powerful urge, like none he'd ever had before. It was keener than desire or lust. It was even simpler and more directed than that. That he understood and could control. This was like gravity that he could not defy. It encompassed him, held him like a giant claw, both supporting him, yet squeezing the life out of him. This was terrifying. The terror fought with this new hunger in a battle for his soul, and he had never really known he'd even had one till this moment. Finally, after a few second, which had felt like ions of imprisonment, he was able to divorce and defuse the emotion. The accompanying action seemed silly, which is exactly why he carried it through. He bent his head, licking the blood and salty sweat from the wound, cleaning it like an animal would.
Xena erupted with a deep and throaty chuckle that turned into a roar of uncontrolled laughter. When he was done, he gave the wound a small kiss, then smiled up at her. In this moment, he felt something between them shift. He could no longer look at her and only see a warrior, a savage like he saw himself.
He had always found her attractive, but primarily she had been one of his chosen generals. Now, looking at her, sitting herself down on a stone, pulling off her armor in order to splash some water on her sweating body, yet trying not to get herself soaked and ruin her battle leather, she seemed very feminine. She brushed her hair out of the way to bathe the neck, and he began to long to kiss that neck, to caress her salty body gently, working out the knotted muscles that she, as any good warrior, perpetually carried.
The feeling both excited and disgusted him internally, and he turned from her, grabbing his vest and dressing himself again fully. This done, he felt more himself, and stalked out of the clearing.
Through the whole encounter, neither had said a word to each other, accepting the others mannerism and style as normal. No words were needed. Xena hadn't thought about it. Ares couldn't get it out of his head. What did that say about them. Was there really nothing to discuss? Was their battle of wills just some script they carried out. How could he have had so much fun, and yes this morning had been fun, without so much as a word between them, no winner, no looser, no nothing, yet something had happened. That urge, that fear, so encompassing. It filled his senses just contemplating it again.
He shook his head, taking a deep breath and continued back towards Amphipolis, trying to decide how to best take advantage of his fellow Gods weakness right now. There were so many wars he could start, and so little time till everyone was healthy again, the balance of power restored. It never occurred to him that he was walking, not using the ether to get from place to place.
When he returned to Amphipolis, he got one Hades of a show. This small, peaceful village had gone mad. Men and women were running around, doing things he'd only seen done at an orgy, right in the middle of the streets. Some were having lovers squabbles at decibels he didn't know mortals could reach. Some were battling each other over unfaithful spouses. Chaos seemed to reign.
Aphrodite must really be out of it, if the state of human affairs had gone this far off track. The battle of the sexes seemed to have gone into an all out war, and the scene before him was pure entertainment. He let out a wild laugh, as a fight broke out between two men over a girl, and one not even very attractive.
He heard a familiar scream, one he'd heard only this morning, and turned to see a mean looking bastard grabbing Gabrielle, running his dirty hands up and down her body. Not one to be brought down without a fight, she elbowed the man hard in the chest, then swung around to kick him square in the groin. She scurried to her fallen staff, and picked it up, smoothing out her rumpled clothes from the attack. She cast the passive Ares a dirty look, as she entered Cyrene's inn. Ares just stood outside the door watching the mayhem, laughing at all the destruction, and marveling in the fact that for once, he was merely an innocent bystander.
Suddenly he was grabbed by the earlobe, and dragged into the inn. Cyrene was pissed. "What have you started? What have you done to my hometown?" the woman demanded, a fire in her eyes, not unlike her daughter's.
"I have done nothing to your precious town. This is all the doing of the Love Gods. If you look carefully, you will notice that each incident is centered around those emotions and desires, not hate, vengeance, or bloodlust. The Gods and Goddesses are ill, my dear women, and you see the resulting chaos. Perhaps you will rethink your opinions of us, once you see what your world is like without us, even just for a few days," Ares said menacingly.
"Your here. Your not ill. Why don't you stop this madness?" Cyrene demanded.
"Well, as people will say in a few millennia from now. That's not my department. I'm sure, as soon as Aphrodite or Cupid or Eros is well again, things will be back to normal. Until then, might I suggest an aggressive advertising campaign. I'm sure there are some folks who'd like to keep their passions more secretive then those two over there, and an inn makes the perfect rendezvous point for an illicit love affair," Ares explained with a wink to infuriate Cyrene. Ares could see Xena was a lot like her mother. Like her daughter, Cyrene let out a snort of disgust, then stormed off into the kitchen, leaving the War God alone.
But not for long. A few minutes later he was greeted by a sleek body, encased in a blue silk dress that seemed to cling to every curve. The woman in the dress was breathtaking, even though he still personally loved the leather look on her. Now she looked exotic, like the monarchs he'd seen in his travels east. Her long black hair hung strait, and seemed to shine in the mid day sun. "I've been looking for you," her perfectly sculptured lips said, a small smile crossing her face, as she slowly inched towards him, like a panther stalking it's prey. "You seemed eager to leave the lake," she stated, a slight hint of disappointment tingeing her smoky voice.
"I was a bit overheated from our exchange," he answered, wanting to slap himself, the moment the words left his mouth. He never got overheated in battle, and she knew that. It had been a private joke between them, since she had trained with him, how she would sweat and breath deeper after a long and arduous battle, and he was perfectly composed always. He even once faked sweating and panting, but had done so bad a job of it that she had laughed herself into a fit of giggles.
"Really. Well, have you cooled off yet?" she asked, having let the obvious lie pass.
How to answer, how to answer... He could see what was happening. She was effected by the chaos, as most of the humans around her were. She was acting out lustful fantasies because of the loss of controls on Olympus, but that didn't change the fact that she was a very beautiful and sensual woman. If he gave in, she'd really hate him later. If he didn't he'd go nuts from repressed desire.
Or maybe he wouldn't. He looked around him, saw all the insanity in this little village, and realized that these people were all insane from repressed desire. It had been unleashed with the 'Olympic Flu', and to give in with her here, to take her inside and ravish her would make him weak, affected like a bunch of horny mortals. Having to live with the knowledge that he was that undisciplined that he couldn't control himself, was unacceptable. That knowledge would drive him mad. He was a god.
"Yes I have cooled off," he said, then went back inside and up the stairs to his rented room. As he shut the door, he closed his eyes focusing on battles to the, finding his generals and whispering plans of attack into their brains for maximum carnage. That would keep him occupied till he could return home.
He also thought about the past day, and his encounter with Xena, warrior princess. He realized that right now she wasn't in control of herself, but he also knew that even when the personal control was restored to those on Earth, somewhere, deep inside, she wanted him bad! No matter how much she dispised him, she ultimately knew they were forever bonded together. It could someday be used for leverage in their battle of wills, a way to get her back on his team.
He also knew one other thing, as he laid down that night to go to sleep. He had the flu.
"Oh, books can be indecent books, though recent books are bolder. For filth, I'm glad to say, is in the mind of the beholder. When correctly viewed, EVERYTHING is lewd"
-Tom Lehr's "Smut"
Return to XenaCrazed's General Fan Fiction and Poetry
Go to the Absolutely XenaCrazed Home Page