Familiar Stranger

By Ronan

Rated NC-17: This story contains graphic descriptions of sex between a man and a woman. If you are under 18 or that type of thing bothers you then please read something else.

The characters of Ares and Cupid are the property of Universal Studios/Pacific Renaissance and no copyright infringement is intended. The author is not receiving any compensation.

For Meryle: so she'll stop threatening to do bodily harm.J Once again the character of Rhysa belongs to Rhiannon. My thanks for letting me borrow yet another one. I promise this is the last time, at least for a while.J This story takes place after the events in Mind Games.

Rhysa had never had a more miserable shift of guard duty. She'd spent the entire thing drenched by the cold rain that had fallen steadily all day. She was going to be so glad to get back to camp. Dreaming about a steaming hot bath, followed by a hot meal in front of a roaring fire, Rhysa hurried her pace. It wasn't far now.

A clap of thunder deafened her and she blinked to clear her sight after a blaze of lightning all but blinded her. Before she could regain her bearings she was knocked off her feet by a body landing on her. Blinking and winded, she couldn't believe her ears when a very familiar voice groaned, "Oh wow! Bad Trip!!"

"Ares!" she hissed, "Damn you! Get off of me!" As she felt the gods' weight move she scrambled to her feet, turning to glare at him. "How dare you show yourself anywhere around here after what you did to Alynn!" She was all set to keep going when she realized something was very strange. Ares was still sitting on the ground, starring up at her with a dazed expression, not even trying to make a sarcastic comment. That was odd enough but he was also dressed entirely in white. True it was the same outfit she was familiar with but white? What was going on here?

"Ares? That is you isn't it?" Rhysa asked hesitantly.

Finally seeming to recover his wits, Ares got to his feet. With a sweeping bow he proclaimed, "Ares, God of Love, at your service, my sweet."

"God of Love?!?!?" Rhysa gaped at him in astonishment. "What's gotten into you?" She watched warily as Ares sauntered towards her. Sauntered? Ares doesn't saunter! He swaggers! Her mind whirled with confusion.

"Gotten into me?" The raised eyebrow was a familiar gesture, at odds with the words and manner. "Why would you think that something has 'gotten into me'? I'm simply my normal, lovable self."

"Lovable?!" Rhysa nearly choked on the word. "Yeah right, feed me another one." She wasn't going to play whatever game he had come up with. "I don't have time for this." She turned away, once more heading for camp. "I'm tired, I'm cold, and I'm soaked to the skin. All I want is to get home. So you can just take whatever scheme you're hatching and find someone else to toy with." She'd only taken a couple of steps when a shower of pink and red hearts drifted over her.

Pink and red hearts??? Blinking she suddenly found herself in her hut. She spun around to find Ares examining her home with interest. He turned his attention back to her. "A bit on the bare side isn't it?" Without waiting for a comment he scattered more of those hearts, turning her simple bench into a luxurious red couch and seating himself on it. "Much better."

Rhysa gaped at him as he patted the seat beside him, clearly wanting her to join him. "Just what do you think you are doing?" she asked, finding his manner even more frustrating than usual.

She gritted her teeth as he replied in a slightly patronizing tone, "Isn't it obvious? You did say you wanted to return home, so I thought I would oblige."

"Ares, if you're looking for a fight, you're about to get more than you bargained for," she growled.

"A fight? Me??" Ares looked shocked. "My dear.. uhm.. Amazon, I'm a lover not a fighter!"

Rhysa gapped at him, stunned. He seemed totally serious. What in Tartarus is going on here? she thought. She took a deep breath. "Look, Ares, I don't know what you think you're doing," she told him, a clear note of warning in her voice, "but if this is some kind of scheme to get me back, it's not working."

Ares frowned, obviously puzzled by her remark. "Get you back? I'm sorry, dear lady but I don't even know who you are."

Rhysa snorted. "Don't give me that. As much as I hate to admit it now, we've been lovers often enough," she told him.

"I admit I've taken a number of mortal lovers," he shrugged, "What can I say, the god of love is extremely popular." He smiled ingratiatingly. "I don't recall all of them but I believe I would remember a lovely woman like yourself."

He believes it. Rhysa stared at him in amazement, her mind whirling. He really believes everything he's saying. What could have happened? Rhysa had to sit down before her knees gave out. "You're saying you don't remember me," she began carefully. As Ares shook his head, she continued, "What about Lysia? Alynn?" Each name only garnered another negative gesture. "Ok, what about Iolaus? Or Hercules?"

Ares face had brightened at Iolaus' name, but when she mentioned Hercules he shuddered. "Please," he exclaimed, "don't bring up that tyrant!"

"Tyrant?" Rhysa's voice cracked with disbelief.

"The Sovereign." Ares shuddered again dramatically. "He's hardly a pleasant topic for conversation."

Sovereign, Rhysa knew she'd heard that name before, but where? Frowning she searched her memories. She was concentrating so hard on remembering, she didn't realize that Ares had moved closer until he continued, "It was such a relief when Iolaus managed to deal with him. Though who would have suspected the jester had it in him…."

"Iolaus?? Of course! Now I remember!" Rhysa studied Ares as the memories flooded her mind. Hercules and Iolaus had paid one of their rare visits to the Amazon camp. Rhysa didn't remember all the details but one of the stories Iolaus had regaled them with had been about a bizarre parallel world. A world in which Hercules had been a tyrant called 'The Sovereign' and Ares… Ares had been the god of love!

Rhysa jumped as Ares ran his hand lightly down her arm, his voice a seductive whisper. "Why don't we find a more pleasant topic," he suggested, "Tell me all about yourself and these fantasies about me you've been having."

Gods! Rhysa shuddered. She could feel the heat of his body as he pressed closer to her; she fought to control her own instinctive response as she studied him. Could he truly be this alternate Ares? Or is he just using the idea?

"Now," he purred, "I believe your other complaints were about being cold and wet? I have just the remedy for that."

His dark eyes mesmerized her. Rhysa found she couldn't protest as the god slowly undid the lacing of her tunic, easing it back from her shoulders. She shivered at the look in his eyes, a familiar fire beginning to build in her.

The feel of his hands on her skin was so familiar, and yet there were differences too. It took her a moment to isolate one of the biggest of those differences; his hands were soft. Still strong, yes, but the calluses were gone, the skin smooth. As she raised her hands to his face she realized another difference in the two gods; this Ares did not wear a beard. Even as the thought went through her mind, Rhysa realized she believed him. He was Ares, god of love.

As if he sensed the change in her, Ares lowered his mouth to hers. His tongue ran lightly over her lips until she parted them with a moan before he finally claimed her mouth in an electrifying kiss.

His hands moved to cup her breasts, lightly squeezing them, thumbs brushing across the sensitive nipples. She arched her back eagerly presenting them as he lowered his head to caress one tight little bud with his tongue.

Rhysa felt him press her backwards and realized that the couch they had been on had somehow become a bed. She felt the soft slide of silk sheets beneath her, the sensation heightening the contrast with the rough hair on Ares' chest.

Ares' chest??? Rhysa gasped, she didn't remember either of them taking their clothes off, well not more than her top anyway, but both of them were now undeniably naked. "What, how," she panted, events having moved too quickly for her dazed mind to keep up with.

"Being a god does have its advantages," Ares told her, grinning, before laying claim to her mouth with another heart-stopping kiss. She felt his hand wandering lower, parting her legs. She arched into him as he began to gently rub the soft flesh he found there, inviting more. She felt him shift, his body coming to rest on hers, his hard shaft nudging her moist opening.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him on with body and voice, "Ares, now!" She moaned as he gave in to her urgings, slowly filling her with the hot turgid length of him. She squirmed, trying to move. She wanted more and she wanted it now, but Ares denied her, holding himself still. Rhysa moaned in frustration. "Please," she begged. Finally he began to move, slow rhythmic thrusts that gradually increased in pace until they both called out wildly as they climaxed together.

Rhysa lay curled next to Ares, sleepily running her hand over his chest. His own hands were caressing her and she felt the fires begin to ignite again as she looked up to meet his gaze. Ares smiled lazily and lowered his head to kiss her.

"Uh hmmm."

Ares and Rhysa both looked up startled at the sudden interruption. Rhysa's eyes widened in amazement. Cupid was standing watching them, a slight frown on his face, arms folded across his chest.

"Look Cupid, old boy," Ares scrambled up, keeping Rhysa between them, "this isn't what it seems. Well, maybe it is but really, you can't expect me to turn down such a delightful offer, now can you? You know I wouldn't bother one of your warriors without an invitation."

Rhysa grabbed the blanket before Ares could totally make off with it, staring in astonishment. "Ares, you're babbling!?!"

"You," Cupid spoke calmly, "need to go back where you belong." Raising his bow, he loosed an arrow, striking the erstwhile god of love squarely in the chest. As Rhysa watched, still dazed by the sudden turn of events, Ares vanished in a bright flash of light.

Cupid placed a finger under the woman's chin, gently closing her mouth and turning her head towards him. "One god of love is more than enough for this world," he told her with a slight smile. Lowering his head, he paused, his lips mere inches from hers, "Perhaps you would accept a replacement?"