An hour or two after Cupid left, Hermes appeared in the Halls of War. He was talking before the sparks of his arrival had a chance to settle. "All Tartarus has broken loose, Ares. Strife is..."

"In deep crap--I know," said Ares. "Why should now be any different than usual?"

"Oh, but he has both Zeus and Hera..."

"They're both pissed, because he messed up the wedding of a couple of their favorites. Hermes, you could have saved yourself a trip. We already know the gossip."

"Ah, but do you know what Strife's punishment is going to be?" Ares and Joxer exchanged silent looks, and Hermes nodded smugly. "Thought not." He pulled a scroll from his belt. "This is the official communication from Zeus, but let me just give you a hint..."

"Why don't you give me the scroll instead?"

"I will, but it's no fun to just hand the message over. Being the messenger to the gods is a boring job, Ares. I have to amuse myself somehow. Anyway, here's the hint--" He paused.

"Hermes, if you don't get on with it, I'm peeling off one of those winged sandals and cramming up your ass."

"Touchy. You thought that Cupid was frustrated and irritated? Wait till you see how he is after having to work with Strife for a while."

Ares, sitting on the sofa with Joxer, sat forward abruptly. "What?"

Hermes nodded, finally handing over the scroll. "This is from Zeus, officially ordering you to give up Strife's services for an undetermined period of time--more specifically, until the Anieli/Damara fiasco has been settled to the satisfaction of the involved parties."

Joxer blinked. "Until Anieli and Damara are happy with their situation?"

Hermes waved dismissively. "Not the mortals. Pfft. Who's worried about what they think? No, until Hera and Zeus are satisfied."

Ares had unrolled the scroll and been reading it. Now he dropped it on the floor, and rested his forehead in his hand. "Fuck. I'll never get him back."

Joxer patted his back. "Oh, come on. If those two really love each other, it shouldn't be all that hard to show them..."

"Joxer--we're talking about Hera and Zeus being happy with the same thing. And we're talking about Strife bringing this about. Compared to that Sisyphus has an easy task."

Joxer frowned. "You don't have a lot of confidence in him, do you?" Ares just looked at him quizzically. "Ares, have you, or have you not, told me that Strife is a good second-in-command?"

"Well, he's... adequate."

Joxer snorted. "Like you tolerate adequate."

Ares decided not to discuss this with Joxer. His lover was always tenderhearted, and the pregnancy was obviously making him even more sentimental. Ares didn't want to upset him by arguing Strife's merits or flaws. The fact that he was having a bit of trouble coming up with really strong arguments (aside from the usual one that Strife was a bit nuts--which was sounding a little lame at the moment) had nothing to do with it. "Eris can take up some of the slack, but it looks like I'm going to be even busier for the next week or so. Maybe I can get Hestia or Demeter to move in while..."

"No."

"Joxer, don't be so abrupt in your refusal."

"Okay. No way. Ares, things are going terrific. Ace says the baby isn't due for over two weeks. I have a horde of concerned priests, yours and mine, if I do so much as squeak, and I'm getting a lot better at that mental summoning trick. If anything at all even looks like it's going to go wrong, believe me--you will know about it."

"Maybe I could just have Hestia over during the day."

"No. She's a great gal, but you might as well just tie me hand and foot and swaddle me in lamb's wool. I don't mind being pampered, but I can live without being smothered. Besides--the last time she was here for more than a half-hour she rearranged my kitchen. I'm not having it."

"But..."

"Ares?"

"What?"

"No."

*sigh* "Why couldn't I have fallen in love with a nice, docile, obedient airhead?"

"You'd have been bored to death in a month."

Ares smiled wryly. "Not half full of yourself, are you?"

Joxer shrugged. "It's your own fault. Keep telling someone how wonderful they are, and it's bound to happen."

Late Afternoon, the Next Day

Joxer was examining a tiny pair of black boots, finely stitched out of butter soft kid leather. "These are quite possibly the cutest things on the face of the earth."

*mjau!*

Joxer glanced down at the kitten, who was swishing his tail. "All right, I'll rephrase that--these are quite possibly the cutest inanimate things on the face of the earth. Satisfied?" The kitten sneezed and stalked off.

Ares, sitting beside him, was staring at the booties. "How the hell does Hestia get the stitching so tiny and even?"

"Goddess thing?"

"Probably. It seems a little silly, considering the fact that the baby will have outgrown those by the time he can actually walk."

"That doesn't make a difference. Strife once said that in the future parents will pay dinars and dinars for infant shoes, just because they have the name of the Goddess of Victory on them."

Ares shook his head. "I wonder what Nike would make of that?" *Flash* Cupid stood before them, a glower on his face. Ares sighed. "Just when I think I'm going to have a whole day without trouble. What is it?"

"We need to have a talk, Dad."

"What's Strife done now?"

"And that's exactly what we need to have a talk about."

"Look, he's your problem right now. Believe me, I'm not unsympathetic, but I don't think Zeus and Hera want much intervention on this."

"Why do you think I'm here because Strife screwed up?"

"Two reasons--your expression, and... this is Strife we're talking about."

Cupid pointed at him. "And THAT is why I'm here! You just assumed that Strife had to have done something stupid, crazy, or incompetent. Actually he's been doing quite well--much better than I expected..." Some of the irritation went out of his expression, and he drooped a little. "And I'm going to have to deal with that about myself."

"Cupid, what are you going on about?"

Joxer laid aside the booties. "He's talking about the way Strife has been treated here on Olympus."

Cupid nodded, and Ares frowned in puzzlement. "What do you mean? He's treated no differently from everyone else."

"Dad, please!" snapped Cupid. "Can you name one other god or goddess who has been treated with such a consistent lack of respect, if not downright hostility? It's shameful. I guess I can see where it would happen with most of the others--a lot of them are too shallow to see beyond his godhood, but I would have thought you of all people..."

Ares was frowning. "Cupid, I'm your father--you don't scold me. I don't know what you're getting so upset over. All right, so I haven't exactly bent over backward to make him feel like a swell fellow and a prince of a god. It isn't my job."

Cupid was quiet for a moment, then said, "Since when has family relations been considered a job?"

Ares didn't exactly flinch. That was a sore point with him. The world at large saw him as cold and ruthless. His head-butting with his half-brother, Hercules, was no secret, and the strained relationship between he and his father would be the stuff of myths. But he did care about family. He'd been a good father, to the extent he was allowed by Cupid's placement in the House of Love. "I took him in when Eris couldn't cope. I trained him. You know that I don't waste my time training people unless they're worthy."

"I know that, but I'm not sure Strife has associated that with himself. I'm pretty sure he sees all that he's gotten so far from anyone in his life as a reluctant obligation." Cupid sat in a chair, and rubbed his face. "He acts surprised every time I'm the least bit considerate, or... or decent." He threw his hands up angrily. "Fuck, I'm as guilty as you are! We were friends when we were little, then when his godhood started manifesting it just sort of... drifted. It never even occurred to me to try to keep him close."

"He doesn't exactly make it easy..."

"He's afraid to. If you think for sure someone is going to push you away, you don't make the first move, do you?"

Ares, for one of the few times in his life, was feeling at a loss. He hadn't often questioned his own actions, and he didn't want to now. But it looked like he was finally having that 'talk' that Cupid, Dite, and Joxer had been threatening him with. "All right, so I didn't tuck him in and tell him bedtime stories. I looked after him. I kept his guts inside his skin till he could take care of himself. Believe me, with his godhood, that wasn't all that easy."

"Ares?" Joxer said quietly. "Sometimes simple survival can be over rated."

"Look," said Cupid, "I'm going to tell you something that you might not have the easiest time dealing with, but you're going to have to. Deal with it--I mean. I have feelings for Strife."

"He's your cousin. I'd be surprised if you didn't."

*sigh* "Dad..."

Ares stood up and started pacing, not looking at Cupid. "All right, he's in deep shit with Hera and Zeus right now. I can understand you being worried about him and wanting to help, but don't go confusing pity with love. You could find yourself stuck in a situation that would be very awkward. I mean, you and Strife..."

Joxer stood up, not an easy feat for him at this stage, and he rested his hand on his bulging belly. "So this is the result of pity?"

Ares stopped abruptly, shocked. "Joxer, how could you think...?"

"Ares, shut up for a second and listen. I've been considered pale, skinny, and not too tightly wrapped. Sound familiar? You took charge of me because I'd been hurt helping you--" Ares started to speak, and Joxer talked over him. "Yes, it grew into something a lot more. But let's be honest--how many people would have thought that there could be anything between us but obligation?" Ares scowled, looking down, and Joxer put a hand on his shoulder. "Isn't it possible that this could be the same sort of thing? That there could really be something here? Maybe there isn't, but you can't just deny even the chance, simply because it doesn't fit your concept of the universe." He smiled faintly. "I've learned recently that there are very few absolutes in this world."

Ares looked at Cupid, expression still almost sullen. "What do you want from me?"

"Lighten up on him a little," said Cupid instantly. "I think you really do care about him, and it wouldn't kill you to let him know occasionally. I'm going to be trying. I'm just hoping he'll let me get close enough to see how I can really help him."

Ares grunted. "I can't promise anything, Cupid."

"Just look at him with fresh eyes, Dad. Leave yourself open to seeing something other than what you expect to see."

Ares grunted again. "I need to go check over some strategy."

He left. Cupid shrugged. "That's Dad. Never one for prolonged good-byes."

Joxer grinned. "Oh, I don't know about that." Cupid caught his significant look, and they shared a smile. "Well, since he's feeling uncomfortable, he probably won't be back till you leave. Can you stay for a while? I'm more-or-less temple bound right now. I love Ares, but I lived among mortals all my life, traveling, and I'm starved for some variety in my company."

"Sure, I can stay for dinner. Strife is watching Bliss."

Joxer's smile was soft. "He'll like that. He loves children."

"I noticed that. He's one of Bliss' favorite people." Cupid shook his head. "And if Joy likes him, how come other people can't see what he does?"

"He's a child, Cupid. His eyes are still innocent, they haven't been clouded by the expectations of the world."

The next day Ares was broody. Joxer didn't say anything, because he knew that Cupid had given the War God a lot to think about. He quietly left Ares to his contemplation, just making sure that he took care of himself, did everything he should, and nothing he shouldn't, so that his husband would have nothing to distract him.

They were relaxing together on the sofa, Ares sitting behind Joxer, chin on his shoulder, gently stroking his belly, when a shower of blue sparks announced an arrival. It was Strife, looking just a trifle unsteady and green, for just a moment. Joxer said, "Hello, Strife. Are you all right?"

He gave Joxer a quick grin, ready to deny any problems. "Yah, I'm fine."

"You're supposed to be with Cupid." Ares made it sound like an accusation.

"He's comin. I thought I'd just drop in a little early an' say hey." He gave them a little wave. "Hey."

Joxer smiled back. "Hey."

"Unc, I was just thinkin... Ya know, I still haven't gotten that ambassador in a twist yet. I was gonna do it tha next day, but tha manure hit tha blades of tha rotatin aeration device..."

Ares gave him a 'what the Tartarus are you talking about?' look, and Joxer explained, "Shit hits the fan. One of Salmoneus's inventions. You don't wave the fan, there are a lot of fans attached to a central wheel, and it spins by..." Ares quirked an eyebrow. "It's kind of complicated, and it was more trouble than it was worth, but believe me, what he's talking about is a big mess."

Strife started speaking rapidly. "Anyways, I'm sure if ya had a talk with Zeus he'd give me some time off, an' I could get it taken care of. He's gotta state banquet today, an' that would be tha perfect opportunity." He giggled, obviously pleased with an idea. "He's gonna make a speech, an' I'm pretty sure I can get him ta screw up when he goes ta say 'I wanna honor your ancestors' an' say instead 'I wanna sleep with your mothahs'."

Ares was nodding. That would be good, and impossible to trace back to the House of War--classic Strife. The thought surprised him a little. Strife really was good at his job. The fact just didn't occur to Ares very often. But after Cupid had left, Joxer had made it very clear that Strife's time with Cupid was important, and not just for the Mischief God to straighten up the mess he'd made. "It can wait."

Strife looked disappointed, but continued, "Well, ya got that rebellion scheduled in tha Sixth Battalion of tha Praetorian Guard. If they aren't gonna think yer directly responsible, I need ta get started now, an'..."

Ares waved away the protest. "I can send your mother."

Strife was protesting that Eris would be more likely to start a massacre, and Ares was assuring him that she'd be directed to show restraint (which was a rather ridiculous concept--Eris and restraint didn't go together).

*Flash*

Cupid appeared, holding Bliss in his arms. "Gran'pa!" The little boy immediately started squirming till Cupid deposited him on the floor, then he came pelting toward the sofa--toward the heavily pregnant God of Peace. All the men in the room were well aware of just how hard those little feet could be when Bliss tried to climb up on someone. He was moving like a charging bull, and everyone started making frantic warning noises. Ares was tensing to move and block the child, but it was all unnecessary. Bliss came to a complete halt, then moved forward slowly and gave Joxer's legs a soft hug. "Hi, Joxie. Can I see the baby?"

Joxer laughed in pleased relief. "Sure, Bliss."

The little boy spread his small hands on the globe of Joxer's belly and pressed his ear to the swell, listening intently for the baby's heartbeat--and maybe something more. Ever since Bliss had announced to the world that 'Joxie gots a baby in his belly', the God of Joy had seemed to have a special connection to the unborn child.

Bliss informed the room that the baby's heart was bumping along steadily, then began, "Stwife was..."

Strife interrupted abruptly, and that was unusual. Oh, not the interrupting--he did that all the time--with adults. But was always willing to let a child have their say, very patient and attentive. And Bliss was his favorite, so for him to step over the little boy's speech--that was odd. "I was gonna teach tha kid ta recognize loaded dice, in case Zeus decided ta pluck him, an' I don't mean feathahs." Everyone in the room gave him a look--puzzled, amused, or irritated. "What?"

Ares growled, "Strife, I swear, if you teach my grandchild how to cheat at dice..."

"Dad." The single word from Cupid was cold, and Ares forced himself to bite back the threats he'd been about to issue.

Ares saw a significant look pass between Joxer and Cupid. "Love, help me stand up, would you? I think I'll take my milk out in the garden today." Ares gently helped Joxer to his feet an' materialized a big goblet of milk, handin it to him. "Thank you." Joxer ruffled Bliss's hair. "Bliss, I always give Mjau some of my milk. Would you like to come watch him? He's been trying to catch butterflies in the garden the last couple of days."

"Yeah!" Bliss looked around eagerly. Being Joy, baby animals were more or less in his realm of influence. He raised his treble voice and called, "Mjau. Here, Mjau!"

Ares was shaking his head. "Calling a cat by name. I think they don't come just to spite us."

Bliss raised his voice again. "Kittykittykittykittykitty!" Mjau sauntered into the room and looked at Bliss. *rowr* Bliss pointed at Joxer. "Milk." The cat trotted over and began to rub against anyone available, purring and chirping.

Strife nodded. "Yep. Tha kid has learned that bribery can be very effective."

Joxer gave his hand to the little boy. "Strife, come keep us company." Strife looked like he was going to object, but then he looked at Ares and Cupid, who were eyeing each other. He shrugged, and followed Joxer and Bliss out into Joxer's garden.

Strife thoughtfully zapped up a comfortable chair, complete with footstool, for Joxer. "Thank you, Strife. Now, I'd better give Mjau what he was promised." He materialized a saucer and dribbled some of the milk into it, then handed it over. "Put that down, will you?"

Strife put the saucer on the grass, then he and Bliss sat beside it and they all watched as Mjau busily cleaned the plate. "Gotta hand it ta ya, Jox. I wasn't sure that lil booger was gonna make it, but he looks as healthy as Pegasus now." Strife reached down and tapped the kitten on the head. Mjau instantly stood on his hind legs and boxed at him with his paws, whiskers bristling fiercely--but he kept his claws in. Strife chuckled. "Course the fact that he's feisty might have somethin ta do with it. Mjau," he pointed, "Lookit." Mjau turned his head and spotted the tiny yellow butterfly that had lighted delicately on a nearby blade of grass.

*pounce* *mutter* The butterfly had flitted out of the way at the last second. Now Mjau was after it, leaping crazily. Bliss jumped up and joined the chase, giggling happily.

The two men watched the mad chase for a little while. Then Joxer reached down and stroked Strife's spiky hair. "Cupid gave Ares what for about you yesterday." Joxer, eyes fixed on the two playmates, felt Strife flinch. "Oh, don't worry about that. He had it coming to him." Strife twisted his head to look up at Joxer doubtfully. "Strife, I love Ares, but I'm not blind to his faults. He hasn't been very nice to you over the years."

Strife looked away. He plucked a blade of grass, and started to shred it nervously. "He wasn't so bad. He took care of me."

"Strife," Joxer's voice was gentle, "you know what my family life was like. I can recognize screwed up when I see it."

"Yah, I guess ya can. But it coulda been worse. Even at his worst, I knew he loved me. He's just..." He blew out a breath. "Well, he's Ares."

"Yeah." Joxer settled back to wait. He didn't feel it was his place to say any more. He hadn't been a god for long, but he'd already learned that there were some things people had to do for themselves. Settling the dynamics of a relationship was one of them.

Inside, While the Above Was Happening

"Now that all the children have left the room," said Ares dryly, "is there something you want to say to me?"

"It's about Strife."

"Why am I not surprised? Cupid," he held up his thumb and forefinger, close together, "aren't you getting just a little obsessed? Why are you so worried about him? You're acting like I've been emotionally abusing a ten-year-old girl. Strife is tough. He isn't as fragile as you seem to..."

"Dad, will you just shut up for a minute?"

Ares jerked back at the afront. "You'd better have a damn good reason for talking to me like that!"

"I do. Do you remember a warlord called Cezanno?"

Ares wrinkled his forehead in thought. "Cezanno... Cezanno..."

"The Cruel?"

Recognition smoothed Ares' expression. "Him. Yes, I remember him. He was an effective warrior, at least at first. He lost it later in his career, though. All he was interested in was how much damage he could inflict on anything or anyone. But he's been in Hades' realm for decades. What about him?"

"Strife." The single word almost vibrated with barely leashed emotions.

"I don't get it."

"You gave Strife to him."

Ares snapped his fingers. "Yes! I remember now. Strife pulled some stunt that made him look stupid in front of his men--made his horse toss him in a manure pile, or something. After winning a particularly strategic battle I wanted to reward him. He already had control of a large section of land, and all the people and goods on it. I expected him to go for the usual jeweled sword, but he said all he wanted was Strife under his complete control for a night." Ares lifted his shoulders. "Strife had been sort of full of himself, so I figured a good beating and a night in chains couldn't do him any serious harm..."

Cupid moved suddenly, clearing goblets and plates off the nearby table with a single sweep of his arm. The resulting crash startled Ares. "Cupid! What the Tartarus..."

"No serious damage!" Cupid's voice was shaking. He was trembling so hard that his feathers rustled like leaves in a breeze.

Ares was shocked. He'd never seen Cupid react so violently--not even when Psyche had hurt him so badly. "What is it you think you have to tell me?"

"Telling won't get it," growled Cupid. "You have to be shown." He stepped over to Ares, who stiffened instinctively. "I found out something about Strife last night, Dad. He didn't tell me--he never would have. I had to look for myself. I sort of promised him I wouldn't tell anyone, either, so you'll just have to find out the same way I did." He leaned close. "Look, Dad. Look into my mind." Ares studied him. He was serious about this. He slowly lifted his hands to press against Cupid's temples. Just before Ares closed his eyes, Cupid said softly, "Dad? Be ready. It's... it's bad." Ares closed his eyes and reached out, moving into Cupid's mind. What he found there made him bite his lip bloody to keep from screaming.

There was himself, binding Strife with the chains forged by Hephastus, telling him of his punishment, ignoring the Mischief God's pleas and protests that he'd just been doing his job--telling him he deserved what he was getting. There he was handing Strife over to Cezzano--a hard, scarred man with disturbingly blank eyes.

All else he remembered of the incident was retrieveing Strife the next morning, finding him bruised, and bloody-nosed, but apparantly not much the worse for wear. He'd released him, telling him he hoped he'd learned something from this. And Strife had just looked at him, without the resentment or anger Ares had expected, and said, "Yah. 'Scuse me," and gone. And been very, very, very quiet for a long time afterward.

Now, though, Ares saw what had come between those personal memories.

He might have used the excuse that part of it's awfulness was because it had been compressed and condensed, hours of abuse into a few minutes. He didn't lie to himself like that, though. He had a feeling that it probably seemed less awful, since it didn't have to be endured for so long. Humiliation, disgust, pain moving into agony, then surpassing agony. Burning, cutting, beating, violation after violation, and a continual litany of derission and abuse. Ugly, stupid, worthless, dirty, useless, repulsive... 'This is all you're good for. Always remember, this is what they all think you're worth.' And near the end... doubt, despair, and, heartbreakingly, belief.

Ares broke away from Cupid, stumbling back till his legs bumped the sofa, and he sat down abruptly. Ares was pale faced and sweating, gasping. Cupid silently sat beside him, materializing a goblet of wine. Ares took it and drained it in a single gulp. Then he threw the goblet across the room and put his forehead down on his knees.

After a few moments, he felt Cupid patting his back, and sat up. Turning dark eyes to his son, he whispered. "I... I did that?"

"No, Dad," said Cupid quietly. "No. Cezzano did it, and he's paying." A ghost of a smile flitted over Cupid's face. "Strife saw to that himself. But Dad," he took his father's hand, squeezing it. "You made mistakes. We all have, with Strife. And we need to change. I am. I love him, and I'm going to do everything I can to help him be whole again, but I can't do it alone."

Ares wasn't crying--he wasn't--but his eyes itched, and the wiped them quickly. "You won't have to." He stood up quickly. "I have to talk to him." He hurried out to the garden, Cupid close behind him.

Strife was sitting on the grass near Joxer, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them. Ares came up behind him and just stood there for a moment, looking down at his nephew. He had so much to say, and he'd never been good at words. He was a man of action, damn it. Strife sensed him, and looked back apprehensively. Ares took action. He bent down and hugged Strife. Strife stiffened, and then the words came. "I didn't know. Strife, I swear to Zeus I didn't know. I thought he was just going to slap you around some, maybe break a bone at the worst. And later when he started being more open with his... his atrocities, I'd forgotten. And you didn't seem so bad afterwards, and you never said anything. If I had known..."

Strife tore himself away from Ares, his expression pained and incredulous. He stared at Cupid. "You told him?"

Cupid shook his head. "I showed him. I just told him to take a look in my mind. It's there now, too, Strife."

"Shit!" Strife screamed. He dropped to the grass, rolling up into a tight ball, starting to shake. "Get Bliss outta here! Get him out, before I contaminate him, too!"

Ares was horrified. Strife was worried that he'd hurt Bliss? He'd never... And then Ares remembered his own concerns about Strife around Joxer, and added shame to the unpleasant emotions he was already feeling. "Strife..."

Joxer had gotten up. "Don't, Ar," he whispered. Mjau had jumped up on the chair for a better view of what was going on, and Joxer plucked him up. Cupid had sunk down to sit beside Strife, watching him with sad, worried eyes. "Get Bliss and let's go in. They need to be alone for a little while."

Bliss had come from across the garden when he heard Strife yell, and now he was buried in his father's wings, peeking out at Strife, his tiny face scrunched up, near tears. Ares gently tugged him away. "Come with us, Bliss."

"But Stwife..."

"Strife is upset. He'll be all right." Ares picked him up and started for the temple.

"Daddy take care of him?" Bliss asked plaintively.

Ares glanced back. Cupid had laid a hand on Strife's back, and was stroking him gently. Ares could see that the Mischief God's shaking had already begun to lessen. "Yes, Bliss. I think your Daddy will take good care of him." He turned and carried Bliss in. "Better care than he's ever had before."