Scribe was sitting on the steps of Apollo's temple, partially covered by cats, when Strife came along. "Hey, Strife." She plucked a kitten out of her cleavage and set it down in front of a mama cat, who immediately started licking it. "Simone, remind me later that it's time I clipped your babies' claws." The cat mewed. "Because they insist on crawling on me, they haven't developed your technique yet, and I'm very fond of my skin. You know I don't want to show Jett any new marks. He gets either pissed or excited." She turned her attention back to the Mischief God. "Where you off to?"

"Hall o' Time," he said.

She considered this. "Business, or pleasure?" He giggled. "Yeah, I know. You love your work. Let's see--last time you were goading the generals into making that attempt on Hitler's life." He made a face. "Not your fault they screwed up. I'd have liked to have seen how things turned out if they hadn't, though. What are you up to this time?"

He shrugged. "Cupe's busy, Bliss is spendin mosta his time with Accord, a commonah just got elevated ta nobility in tha Greek court, so Imp is busy with all tha envy flyin around. I'm bored."

She pursed her lips. "Oo. Dangerous. Yes, better you're off somewhere and somewhen else when you're in this mood. Any idea of when and where you might land?"

"I figured I'd go back ta yer old stompin grounds."

She quickly grabbed his arm. "Promise me that you're not going to interact with any member of my family--no how, no way."

"Please! Would I do that?"

"You told my elderly aunt that I'd won the Best Smut Featuring a God or Goddess Prize for last year. I think it wasn't the smut bit that brought on the palpitations, but rather the 'god or goddess' bit. She's a church lady."

"I said I was sorry about that. She oughta wear wunna those medic alert bracelets warnin that she's allergic ta theological discussions. Anyways, family is off limits. Promise."

"Good. Now, if you should want to go hassle any of my former employers save for my very first one at Pizza Inn, feel free. Not while I’m at work, though. Unless you already have?" She squinted at him. "Considering some of the shit that went on at some of my jobs, I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find out you were around."

"Not me, kiddo. Ya weren’t even on mah radar till ya got here. I gotta go if I wanna get home before Cupe n’ the kids do."

He started away and Scribe called, "Bring something back for me!"

Ah, last words...

Scribe was busy the next few days. There was a small village that was trying to ban all forms of erotica, and as Scribe said, "While I agree that the adult stuff should be kept out of the hands of the kiddies, they arrested some poor slob who wrote about a man groping a woman above the waist while they kissed--and they were a married couple." She worked with Joxer to keep the more radical protesters from foaming at the mouth, and Accord to help set up a reasonable compromise.

"They'll never learn," she said wearily after things were settled. "The one sure way of arousing a kid's curiosity about something is to make a huge fuss about how horrible it is. Accord, what's that song you've been humming for the last couple of days?"

Accord stopped humming. "I wasn't even aware I was doing it. I think I picked it up from Bliss."

"Hm. Sounds a little familiar. Oh, well. I suppose it'll come to me eventually."

She found herself humming the song while she took her bath. "Da da da... We are strong. No one can tell us we're wrong..." *Sounds like a teenager song, all right. I know this thing. It was a girl singer. Brittny Spears? Nah. I don't think I know any of her songs. I know she sang something called Oops, I Did It Again because it was used as a punch line so often. Well, I'll forget about it for now.*

Easier said than done. Bliss dropped by the next day. Apollo had persuaded him to visit occasionally. Several of the Muses had synched periods, and things could get rather tense, so either Bliss or Joxer would drop by for a few minutes and spread joy and peace respectively. Scribe, passing in the hall, heard Muse giggles and dropped in for a moment. Everyone was chatting, and Bliss found himself looking at Scribe. "That song you're humming sounds familiar."

"It should," said Scribe. "I got it from Accord, and he says he got it from you."

"Oh, yeah," said Bliss. "I got it from Dad. Darn. It was stuck in my head for three whole days. I thought I'd finally gotten rid of it, but now..." He sang, "But if we get much closer, I could lose control. And if your heart surrenders, you'll need me to hold..." He stopped singing and spoke. "I only know bits and pieces, and it's driving me nuts."

"Yeah," Scribe agreed. "If you can sing it all the way through, it usually gets it out of your head."

"It'd help if I knew the chorus," said Bliss.

"Well, let's go find out."

They walked over to the Temple of Passionate Love, and located Cupid in his workroom. They stood back quietly till he finished fitting the head on one of the arrows. They weren't about to risk startling him into nicking himself. Things were complicated enough without asking for trouble. He was whistling as he worked, and Bliss and Scribe exchanged looks, nodding. Same song, second verse. When he was done he turned to them with a pleased smile. "Two of my favorite people. What's up, guys?"

"My blood pressure," said Scribe. "We've both got a tune stuck in our heads, and it's driving us nuts."

Cupid grimaced. "Would it be..." He whistled.

"Exactly! What is it?"

"I have no idea. Strife was singing it when he came back from the Halls of Time. I caught it from him."

Scribe rolled her eyes. "I should have known. It has to be something he picked up in another century. Well, I'm chasing his butt down and getting the lyrics from him, so that I can make it stop taking up space in my brain."

She stomped over to the House of War. One of the priests told her respectfully that the God of War was in conference with the God of Mischief, the Goddess of Chaos, and the King of Assassins, and they might not take kindly to being interrupted, so if she'd like to have a seat in the salon and perhaps take some refreshment... He was dumb enough to make the suggestion, but he had enough sense to get out of her way.

Ares, Strife, Eris, and Jett were gathered around the blueprints of a fortress, discussing the best way to foment a rebellion that would grow into a small battle, but not spill over into an actual war. Jett, not surprisingly, was lobbying for a surgical strike assassination, Strife was pushing bad food, faulty equipment, and hints of betrayal, and Eris favored just showing up and throwing a few fireballs, then telling both factions that it had been done on behalf of the other side. All four looked up with varying degrees of frowns when the door opened without a knock. When they saw it was Scribe they relaxed a bit. "Thanks," said Ares, "but we don't need any dirty graffitti written on the fortress walls."

"Got news for ya, Ares," she said, coming in. "I've seen the fortress you're dithering over. Even if I was interested in doing it, the camp followers got there first. Their guild is really pissed off at the soldiers stationed there, ever since they passed along a lot of gilded lead coins in payment for nookie. And that's not why I'm here."

"Well, why are you here?"

"To do this." *smack*

"Ow!" Strife rubbed his head. "There've been many times in mah life when I deserved wunna those, but whatha fuck brought it on this time?"

"What were you doing when I came in?"

"Um... consultin?"

"And what were you doing while you were consulting?"

"Um... breathin?"

"You were humming," said Eris. "You were humming the same thing you've been humming ever since you got here. In fact, if she hadn't smacked you I was considering taking off one of my gauntlets and stuffing it in your mouth." She hummed a few bars. "Now I can't stop thinking about it."

"Well, I'm glad I'm not the only one," said Ares tartly. "It was getting to me, and you know how I am about repititious songs." Everyone nodded. Everyone on Olympus had, at some point, been exposed to the Joxer the Mighty song. And while it generally had the effect of making people want to sew their ears shut, Ares deeply loved the one responsible, so he was a little conflicted.

"I kind of like it for some reason," said Jett.

"What is it?" said Scribe. "I need to know so that I can exorcise it."

"Exorcise?"

"I"ll burn candles, throw holy water, and chant if I have to. Strife? Tell."

"Ah, geez, Scribe," said Strife. "It ain't like I did it on purpose."

"Suuuure."

"Nah, really. Ya know very well that mischief just follahs me around sometimes. Ya think you're sufferin? I've had it evah since I got back. Okay, when I went back, I figured I'd shoot fah a year when ya were too young ta be out workin, so I settled on 1984..." *mph* Scribe had grabbed his ears and kissed him soundly. "Not that I'm complainin, but what was that for?"

"For thinking that I'd be too young to be out working in 1984, you flatterer. Jett, put the damn dagger back in your belt. Go on, Strife."

"As I was sayin. I went ta wunna those indoor market places ya have all ovah. Ya know, tha ones with all tha glass an teenagers?"

"Malls. I'm familiar with them."

"An I remembahed ya wantin me ta bring ya somethin, so I went ta this candy store..." *mph* "Lemme guess--that was fah tha Godiva. Scribe..." He pointed.

She whirled around and glared at Jett, who resheathed his knife, looking sulky. "You drive me crazy. I could almost understand you wanting to stab me when I do something like that. Why want to stab the guy?"

He shrugged. "I don't love them."

"I swear, I'm hauling your ass to a twenty-first century sensitivity training class. Strife, how do you get from a candy store to a hellishly clinging bit of music?"

"There was a music store right next door, an they had wunna those picture boxes in tha window."

"Television."

"An it was playin music, too." He giggled. "Ya know how pissed Artemis was when tha humans started trompin around on tha moon? Well, they had a picture of that, but tha guy's flag said MTV."

Scribe blinked slowly. "This begins to come clear."

"An they had these lil mini movies with songs. Tha one I got this tune from was about a gal runnin away from home an' she ends up as some sorta dancin courtesan, but all her fellow tarts rebel, an' they dance in tha streets, singin..."

"Love is a Battlefield."

Jett perked up. "Battlefield? I knew there was some reason I liked that."

"Pat Benetar--you have a lot to answer for. Okay, now that I know what it is, I can get rid of it. I heard the darn thing so much in 1984 that I memorized it, and I'm sure I can dredge the lyrics up if I try. Once I have 'em written out I'll pass them around to anyone who needs to get it out of their heads."

"Thanks," said Eris. "I was going to have to kill something soon."

"Well," said Scribe. "Let's look on the bright side. It could always be worse."

"How?" said Ares.

"He could have set down in 1988. Then we might have had to contend with The Song From Hell."

"Nothing could be worse than this."

"Oh, yeah?" said Scribe. She sang, "Here is a little song I wrote. You might want to sing it note for note. Don't worry. Be..." She stopped abruptly, eyes going wide in horror as she clutched her head.

"Nooooooooo!"

*Well,* thought the priest. *I warned her.*

The End

Love is a Battlefield

We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
No promises, no demands
Love is a battlefield
We are strong, no one can tell us were wrong
Searchin our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love is a battlefield

Youre beggin me to go, youre makin me stay
Why do you hurt me so bad?
It would help me to know
Do I stand in your way, or am I the best thing youve had?
Believe me, believe me, I cant tell you why
But Im trapped by your love, and Im chained to your side

We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
No promises, no demands
Love is a battlefield

We are strong, no one can tell us were wrong
Searchin our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love is a battlefield

Were losing control Will you turn me away or touch me deep inside?
And before this gets old, will it still feel the same?
Theres no way this will die
But if we get much closer, I could lose control
And if your heart surrenders, youll need me to hold

We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
No promises, no demands
Love is a battlefield
We are strong, no one can tell us were wrong
Searchin our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love is a battlefield

We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
No promises, no demands
Love is a battlefield

We are strong, no one can tell us were wrong
Searchin our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love is a battlefield

Written by: mike chapman & holly knight