They were sitting at the breakfast table, and Joxer looked up quickly. "Now look, Ares, you know I can't help it. At least the cravings have stopped being quite so weird. I think I should be allowed my sourness fits."

"I'm not trying to stop you. Didn't I set up that pickle barrel in our chambers? Let me finish what I was saying. You're going to have to stop sucking lemons when you're over at Apollo's place, at least when he's rehearsing his temple musicians. He came ranting to me that none of the woodwind or brass players could play after you sat there and made your way through two lemons. It took him two hours to get them all un-puckered."

"Well, considering some of the services they provide for him besides music, I would have thought that the puckering would be looked upon as a benefit."

Ares gave a startled bark of laugher. "I think your sense of humor is getting a little more snarky, Joxer."

"I now officially cannot see my feet without leaning over, I have to be sure to wear slip-on sandals instead of lace-ups, and I'm nervous if I'm more than a few yards from a chamber pot. It was bound to happen."

They were lying together in bed, taking a precious moment of idling after breakfast. Ares plucked the squeezed-out lemon rind away from him, and tossed it, making it disappear in mid-air. "I have to go." He gave Joxer a mid-range stern look. "You're staying home today, right?"

Joxer sighed. "Ace says stay, I'll stay."

"And no working in the garden."

"Ares! I need to get the tulip bulbs in, and the hedge is getting ragged." Ares was glaring, and Joxer trailed off. "Can I at least do it by will power?"

"If you sit down while you do. Now, is there anything you want me to bring back?" Joxer took a deep breath. "Uh-oh."

"It's not that bad."

"What is it?"

"Well, the last time I visited Falafel, he was trying out this new snack food. It's pigskin..."

"Pigskin? Strife told me they're going to be making funny shaped balls out of that in a millennia or two, and big, sweaty men will be knocking each other down trying to get their hands on them."

"No, not a ball. It's in strips, and he deep-fries them. They puff up, and are all crunchy. A little sprinkle of salt, a little chili sauce..."

"You're drooling. I guess you're serious. All right, I'll see what I can do, but this is one craving I just can't understand."

"You don't have to understand. You just have to cater to me."

Ares rolled his eyes. "For an humble person, you sure do have a bossy streak."

Joxer grinned. "Where'd you hear the rumor that I'm humble? Hey, did you really think that someone else gave me the title of 'the Mighty'?"

There was a flash, and Aschlepius appeared. "Good morning. How's the little father today?"

"You know, Ace," said Joxer tartly, "Some day women will feel the urge to kill their doctors when they hear a similar question after a night of trying to sleep around their stomachs."

Ares looked at Ace, who nodded, "Yes, the mood swings are right on schedule. You remember how Aphrodite got with Cupid--and Psyche with Bliss."

Ares rolled his eyes. "With Aphrodite, it was the first time I ever saw Eris leave a room suddenly for anything but battle, or effect."

Aschlepius held up a small lidded pot. "I brought along some more ambrosia, just in case. It's always good to have a little on hand in these cases, and Joxer, quit making faces."

Joxer was rubbing his swollen stomach. "From all that stuff I've eaten, I'm going to expect this baby to kick Zeus' butt the moment he's born."

Ares got up and went around the table, pausing to give the back of Joxer's neck an affectionate squeeze. "I won't be back till late this afternoon. Take care of yourself, or I'll whip your ass as soon as you recover from having the baby."

*Flash* He disappeared.

Joxer sighed happily. "It's so nice to know he cares."

Aschlepius put the pot on the table. "As long as I'm here, let's have a quick check over."

Joxer sighed. "Sure." He put his hands on the table and braced himself to stand up, grunting with effort. When he was upright he rested his hand on his stomach and sighed. "I don't know why the human race hasn't just died out, Ace. Right now it's hard to understand why a woman would willingly go through this more than once."

As Ace watched, Joxer's expression suddenly went blank, then was filled with a wondering contentment. He saw the new god's hand gently stroking his belly, and knew that the baby had moved. "That's why, Joxer," he said softly. "Come sit on the bed--it'll be easier for you."

"Since you're here to help me get up again, yeah." Joxer sat on the edge of the bed, and Ace made a quick, but thorough check, asking Joxer about how his breathing had been, any dizziness, any more nausea, waste eliminations... "There is one thing. Well, two."

Joxer stopped speaking after that admission, and Ace looked up to find him blushing slightly. "Out with it. Modesty has no place between a doctor and a patient when it comes to describing something that might be wrong. Especially in this case, Joxer. You're the first male god we've had pregnant like this, and we have to be alert to anything that might signal a problem."

"One of the things is nothing much. I mean, I've had the problem before. It's just flared up now, and I was wondering if there was something that could be done for it." Ace raised his eyebrows questioningly, crooking his fingers in a 'give it to me' gesture. "Um, well... It has to do with... Ace, my bottom has been itching and aching something fierce lately."

"The entire bottom, or just the actual aperture?"

"Aper-what?"

"The hole, Joxer."

"Oh. That. And I have to tell you, I'm pretty irritated with it. I was figuring on a little more whoopie time with Ar before I had to give it up."

Ace nodded, trying not to smile. "That would be hemorrhoids."

Joxer gave him a funny look. "I knew a guy named Hermeroi once, and he was a pain in the ass, but nothing like this."

Aschlepius laughed. "Uh--no. A hemorrhoid is... Well, it's sort of like for some reason part of your inside gets irritated, and swells. It happens quite a bit to pregnant women, people who eat rough diets, and camel drivers on caravans. I think for the last one it's because of all the bumpy riding they do. Anyway, I can bring you a cream for that. A couple of days worth of application will take care of it."

"Couldn't you make it a pill or potion instead?"

"It won't get to the problem like that, Joxer."

"Well, I'll have a hard time getting it to the problem if it's a cream," said Joxer. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to keep fresh after using the chamber pot? I'd have to have arms like an ape to do it comfortably."

Ace patted Joxer's shoulder. "That's what husbands are for. Now, what's the other problem?"

"It's weird," said Joxer quietly. "I think I know what it is, but I figured I'd better tell you, just in case." He pressed his hands over his chest, fingers spread, and Ace noticed that he was pressing very lightly. "I'm getting swollen here, and it's tender."

Ace scratched his head. "Well, if you were a goddess, I'd say it was perfectly natural. Breast enlargement is perfectly natural during pregnancy."

"I don't have breasts!" said Joxer firmly. He bit his lip. "Well--I didn't."

"Joxer, don't be embarrassed. EVERYONE has breasts. It's just that they're much less prominent in the male sex, since we don't have any practical uses for them."

"Oooh. So that's where they get the expression 'as useful as tits on a Cretin bull'."

Ace's lips twitched. "Precisely. Or 'as necessary as stones on a temple virgin'."

"Did it happen to Zeus?"

Ace shook his head. "I seriously doubt he'd have remained entirely sane. No, Athena sprang from his head fully grown, thus there was no need for his body to prepare for nursing."

Joxer's eyes got wide. "Nuh-nursing?"

"I need to be sure that's what it is, and not an inflammation. Take off your shirt, please."

Joxer did as directed. His first instinct was to cross his arms over his chest. He'd only noticed the slight swelling and tenderness in the last couple of days, and was embarrassed by it. He'd stopped sleeping in the nude. The first time he'd climbed into bed wearing the loose silk pants and tunic, Ares had raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything. Contrary to what most people believed, the God of War was perfectly capable of being tactful. He realized that his husband was feeling self-conscious, and he wasn't about to cause him any more distress by commenting.

Ace bent over Joxer, examining him closely. Joxer was naturally fair, but not quite as pale as Strife. The area around both nipples was a bit more prominent. "Have you noticed a change of color in the nipples?"

"Now that you mentioned it, yeah. They're a little darker."

"M-hm." Ace palpitated the flesh around the nipples. "Is this tender?"

"Just a little."

"Well, I don't feel any excess heat, and that's good. There's no redness." Ace looked up at Joxer. "Joxer, what I'm about to do may ache a little bit. I apologize in advance, but I want to check something."

"Okay."

Joxer drew in a breath as Ace took one of his nipples between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed gently. "Take it easy. I'm not groping--I'm testing." He smiled at Joxer. "Still, I'm glad Ares had to go off on business. Devoted, passionate husbands of vulnerable life bearers are not notoriously tolerant of anyone handling their spouse's flesh. I'm going to check the other one now." He moved to the other side, squeezing carefully.

"What are you looking for? Tumors?" There was nervousness in Joxer's voice.

"No." Ace's expression relaxed a little, and he let go of Joxer, rubbing his fingers together. He showed them to the God of Peace, and they were damp. "I was looking for that. You've begun to produce pre-milk." Joxer gaped at Ace's hand, then looked down at his own chest in astonishment. "You haven't noticed this before? No damp patches on your clothes?"

"Well, there have been a couple of teeny spots once or twice, but I just figured I was sweating. I have been a little heat sensitive lately."

"No, it's called colustrum, and it's perfectly natural. You might want to wear a very loose binding to keep your clothing clean. But be careful, you mustn't bind yourself. That could cause the ducts to block, and you could end up with mastitis, and you don't want that. I want you to be sure to get plenty of rest, and clean yourself several times a day, to prevent rashes or infections."

"I don't know how I'm going to explain this to Ares."

Ace sat beside him. "Joxer, I don't think you'll have to. He probably knows already. After all, he went through this sort of thing with Dite, and he's not inobservant." He patted Joxer's shoulder, and his voice was warm. "He's very aware of you, you know. I think he'd notice if something was off with you before he'd notice that he was getting ill himself. I have to go. Do you want me to send anyone to stay with you?"

"No, it's all right. There are the temple priests, if I need them, and I think Strife is going to drop by."

Ace smiled. "Think, or know?"

"He has been coming by pretty regularly."

"Good. He can be as aggravating as Tartarus sometimes, but he's also usually good for a laugh, and that can't hurt you. I'll see you again in a day or two."

*Flash*

Joxer got to his feet, noting that it took a little more effort than usual, and reminding himself to be careful about sitting on furniture that didn't have nice, sturdy arms to brace with. He went to the bedside table, heated the water in the wash basin with a thought, and began to sponge down his chest. The heat lessened the slight aching.

*Flash*

Strife appeared, leaning against the wall beside him. "Hiya, Jox. What's shakin?"

Joxer sighed. "Me, in a few weeks."

"Say what?"

"I'm growing boobs, Strife."

"No kiddin?" Strife leaned over, peering closely at Joxer's chest. "Huh. Yah, I'd hafta call those itty bitty titties, as opposed to manly pectorals, but yer nevah gonna rival Aphrodite, Joxer."

"You're such a comfort to me." He dried off and put his shirt back on. "How are things going for you?"

Strife shrugged. "Same old, same old. Pranks, dirty tricks, insults, harrassment, sabotage, practical jokes, deviousness--then there's work..." He pointed at Joxer, grinning. "Ran inta yer lil bard tha othah night."

Joxer found he was smiling. "Okay, what did you do to her?"

"Nothin that woulda been any problem if she paid attention ta what she was doin. She was readin wunna her new poems at a tavern," he giggled, "an' I snuck a few unauthorized words an' phrases inta it. If she didn't have her mouth on automatic, she'da noticed in time ta switch it around. I'm particularly proud of rhymin 'went without a hitch' to 'I am Xena's bitch'"

Joxer was chuckling. "Xena didn't get upset?"

"She was pretty drunk by then, an' she just banged her ale mug on tha table an' yelled, 'you damn betcha you are, Blondie'. I think they slept separate." He eyed Joxer, then said quietly, "Wunna tha barmaids had a baby, an' Gabby was tellin her that she knew someone who was expectin. She asked how soon aftah tha baby was born someone could expect ta be allowed ta visit."

Most of the Pantheon had decided to mention the God of Peace's former life as a mortal as little as possible, figuring it would make his adjustment to his new station easier. Strife had thought that was sort of like negating everything that Joxer had been before he attained divinity, and he decided that couldn't be good for the ego, or general mood. He knew he'd been right to tell Joxer this when he saw the smile spreading over his friend's face. "She did? I'll want her and the others here as soon as Ace and Apollo say it's all right, of course. Heck, they're still my friends--part of my family, really."

Strife nodded, then started to trace an invisible pattern on the tabletop, eyes following his finger. He said casually, "Yah think I might come see 'im aftah ya get a chance ta rest up from havin 'im?"

"Strife! I'm going to be very hurt if you don't show up as soon as the baby is dried off."

Strife looked up quickly, with a pleased grin. "Yah?"

"Of course! He's going to be your cousin, after all. Besides," Joxer patted his friend, "all children are yours, at the beginning."

"True, but there's a lot of parent's don't wanna admit that."

Joxer rolled his eyes, and his voice became smug, and a little falsetto. "Not my little angel! He'd never do anything like that." Strife cackled.

*Flash*

Ares appeared. Joxer greeted him with a wide, genuine smile. "I thought you were going to be busy most of the day."

"I was. I am," said Ares. "But I had to take a minute. I have a situation here." He was holding his hands cupped together, and now he extended them toward Joxer.

Joxer looked, seeing what looked like a clump of bedraggles fur. "A dead rat?" The tiny bundle of fur moved. *meeeeer* Joxer gasped, eyes going big. "It's a kitten! But it's so tiny. Ar, you shouldn't have taken it from its mother."

"I know, Jox, but the mother isn't in any shape to do it any good. One of the wardogs got hold of her. I was wondering why in Tartarus that scrawny little bag of fur would dash out and attack a full grown war dog. I mean, cats usually have better sense than that. He killed her, of course. Then I heard this sort of peep from the bush that the cat had charged out of, and for some reason I got curious and went and looked." He lifted his hands. "I found this."

Strife had come over and was examining the little creature. "Was tha dog close ta tha bush?"

Ares nodded. "He was nosing around it. I figured he was just deciding whether or not to water it."

"That explains it. Mama Kitty was defendin her baby." He shook his head. "I'm tellin ya, if we evah get tagetha a squad of mothahs with babies behind tha lines, we'll have a force more feared than those wussy Huns evah thought about bein."

"I won't argue with you on that." He looked down at the kitten almost helplessly. "I just didn't feel right leaving it there. It would have starved, or the dogs would have gotten to it, and..."

Joxer held out his hand. "Give it here."

Ares handed over the cat with a look of relief. "I have to go. The men think that I had a summons from Zeus. If they found out I was doing emergency service for a cat..."

Joxer waved at him. "Go. I'll handle this."

*Flash*

Joxer held the kitten in one palm, cupping the other hand over it. "Well, its eyes are open, and it can stand up, but it definitely isn't weaned yet." His expression softened. "It's trembling. I think the first thing to do is get it warmed up..." He sniffed. "And, uh, cleaned." He offered the cat to Strife. "Hold it for a minute."

Strife took the animal. "Sure. Cats are mine, too, ya know." He held the kitten up so that it was eye-level. "What's new, pussycat?"

*hisssss!*

Strife burst out laughing. "Oh, you an' me are gonna get along." He held the kitten's upper body, letting the bottom dangle, and peered between its legs. "Gotcha a little tom here, Jox. If it survives, ya won't hafta worry 'bout kittens, but everyone around ya who owns a queen cat will." The kitten was squirming. *hiss* *rooowr!* "He's cussin me out in kitty language."

"I'm not surprised. Stop looking under his tail--it's rude."

"Joxer, are ya familiar with cats? They show tha world what's undah their tail."

Joxer materialized a shallow basin of warm water, some soft soap, and fluffy towels. "Okay, I'm ready."

Strife handed him over. "Bathin a cat? Yer braver than I am. Watch out. He's got his claws, an' he ain't afraid ta use 'em."

"Ouch. So I see. Luckily he's still small enough that he can't do much damamge." He dipped the kitten in the water. *rooowr!* *splash* *hisss!* *slopsplash* *arrrrow!* "Now I know what they mean by a hissy fit. Hold still."

*grrrrrrrr*

Strife laughed. "That wasn't a purr. I think that meant 'fat chance'."

"I'll be quick." *lather* *rub* *rinse* *lift* *dripdrip* *wrap* *rubrubrubmassagerub* "Done." He gently set the kitten down on the bed. It wobbled a few steps, then turned and glared at him. Standing stiff-legged, skinny tail standing up like an exclamation point, minute ears flat against round skull, the kitten proceeded to spit like water sprinkled on a hot griddle. Then it sat down and began to groom itself.

Strife cocked his head. "Seems in pretty good shape ta me. I think if ya can figure out how ta feed 'im, ya won't have any trouble."

"Oh, that's easy." Joxer went over to the table and started picking among the breakfast remains. "Whip up some warm milk, with a beaten egg in it, would you?" Strife materialized a small bowl of the requested ingredients, while Joxer got a napkin and tied a chunk of bread about the size of a fingernail in it. He went to the bed and sat down.

The kitten stopped licking his paw and eyed Joxer warily. Joxer said quietly. "Look, I know it's been a rough morning, but you're in a safe place now."

*snort* "I'm sorry, Jox, but hearin tha Halls of War refered to as a safe place..."

"Hush. Kitty, kitty, kitty." The kitten backed up a couple of steps. He'd dried off enough for his fur to fluff, and he did, puffing up to at least an extra third in size. The kitten was completely black, and his wide yellow eyes and gaping pink mouth (complete with very tiny, but sharp, teeth) showed up dramatically. "You're just going to have to trust me."

Joxer reached, and managed to grab the kitten as it tried to scamper away. *hiss* *rrrr* *arrow* *hiss* "Hold out that bowl." Strife did, and Joxer dipped the tied up bread into the warm, white liquid. Then he took a firm, but careful, grip just behind the kitten's skull and pressed the milksop against his mouth. The kitten was just opening his mouth to say something nasty, and the little wet bundle slipped in. He tried to spit it out--then got a taste. Immediately his jaws clamped shut, and he began to suck. His eyes squeezed half shut in bliss. After a second he spit out the now only slightly damp cloth and began to complain loudly, pawing at Joxer's hand. "Stay calm. There's plenty more where that came from."

He let go of the kitten and reached to dip the cloth again. The cat tottered over to his side and managed to rear up on his hind legs, bracing his front paws on the side of Joxer's leg, fussing loudly. "Okay, okay--greedy." He offered the milksop, and the kitten latched on again. Again the eyes squeezed happily, and a tiny throbbing noise started up. Joxer looked at Strife delightedly. "He's purring." The kitten was flexing his paws. "And he's working his claws in my leg. Ow."

"Hey, look at it this way, Jox. If ya keep 'im, he'll be good trainin fah bein a parent. You'll get ta deal with feedins at all hours of tha day an' night, messes, bein pestered. Lotsa practice."

Joxer was stroking the top of the kitten's head with one finger. "He's awful cute. I hope Ares won't mind."

"Are you kiddin me? Joxer, he brought 'im to ya, din't he? He hasta figure you'll be good fah each othah. Besides, it ain't like he's gonna deny ya anythin in his power right now."

Joxer grinned. "I sort of figured that, but I'd rather it wasn't just because he's trying to humor the pregnant man." The kitten had finished his meal. He used the hold he already had on Joxer's pants to drag himself up onto the god's leg, then curled into a small ball of black fur and fell asleep, purring with every breath.

"I don't think that'll be a problem. An' judging from that lil booger's attitude, he might be able ta knock Greagus back on his ass a time or two, once he gets his full growth."

Ares was later than he'd thought he'd be. He was irritated, and a little worried, by the time he finally appeared in the Halls of War. The worry and anger drained away the moment he saw Joxer, leaving him with nothing but that sense of contentment and peace that was fast becoming more familiar.

His lover was dozing, stretched out on a couch. Something looked a little odd, and it took Ares a moment to realise that the kitten he'd brought home was sleeping, curled up almost precisely on Joxer's adam's apple. Ares couldn't help smiling as he moved to stand over his husband. "Joxer," he said softly.

"Mmf?" Brown eyes opened, warming as his gaze fell on Ares. "Hi. I fell asleep."

"So I see. That's good, though. If you need to rest--rest." He pointed. "I see the infant has survived."

Joxer carefully stroked the kitten, his hand covering it completely with each stroke. It opened its eyes and squeaked sleepily. "I think he'll be fine. He's a lively little fella. You should have seen him trying to chase a ball of paper. I laughed so hard I almost wet myself--not that it takes much to cause that these days."

Ares pulled a chair close and sat down. "So you'll be keeping him?"

Joxer looked at him. "If you're not, like, allergic, or anything--I'd like to."

"No. It's just that if you thought it might be too much trouble, I could bring him to Heccate. She loves cats--says it's a witch thing."

"No, I want to keep him." He rubbed the kitten behind the ears, getting a purr. "He needs me."

Ares reached out and laid his palm against Joxer's cheek, his thumb stroking the faint pink line left by the hydra blood that had marked him when he saved Ares' life. "A lot of people need you. Some of us are lucky enough to know it." He pointed at the kitten. "What are you going to name it?"

"I dunno." Joxer lifted the kitten, bringing it nose-to-nose. "What would you like to be called?"

The kitten blinked at him. *mjau*

Joxer and Ares laughed, and Joxer said, "I guess that answers that question. Welcome home, Mjau."