"Aw, c'mon. Just a grape."

"No."

"I peeled it for you."

"Scriiiiibe..."

"Crap. I get up for one second..." whack "That's my seat, hero! Up."

"Hey, if you leave it open, it's up for grabs."

"Like heck it is! Move, or..." I dropped my voice and whispered, "I'll tell Iolaus what you said about Joxer's ahem 'equipment'."

Hercules turned pink, a rather alarming sight. "You heard that?" I grinned evily. He got up, gazing at a relieved Joxer with great, sad eyes.

He went and sat next to a glowering Iolaus, who quickly turned aside, nose going up in the air. "Oh, man. All the mature sexual dynamics of a junior high girls' locker room." I sat next to Joxer. "I told you to put your fork in the seat to keep him from sitting down."

"What's a fork?"

I blinked. "Ooo, crap, that's right. They won't be invented till the Renaissance, or is it the Middle Ages? No wonder everyone's fingers are so greasy. I suppose I should be grateful." I took a napkin and wiped my arm. "A barbarian tried to grab me on the way back and I just kinda squirted out of his grip. So I take it the hot-to-trot spell is still in effect?"

"He offered to spit polish a certain part of me."

"Yup. Sounds about his speed. As socially graceful as an elephant in clogs." I started eating bread.

"I thought you were going to get some stew?"

"They wouldn't identify the beast that sacrificed itself to add protein. I gave up eating mystery meat when I graduated high school."

Joxer ate a few bites, then said, "Um... what was it that Hercules said?"

I gave him my best innocent look. (Hey, he didn't know me well enough yet to be suspicious.) "About what?"

"My... uh... my 'equipment'."

"I have no idea, but I figured that he must've said something. Guilty consciences are wonderful things. Remember that if you ever have kids."

Hercules sidled over to the table. "I was thinking... Iolaus and I need a room, and Meg said your group got the last two. Scribe, how about if you go in with Gabrielle and Xena, and..." Calf eyes again. "Iolaus and I can bunk in with Joxer."

Joxer had a mouthful of wine. He managed not to spray it, but he had a coughing fit. Hercules perked up. "He's having trouble breathing! Aschelpius told me about this method he saw in the Halls of Time where you put your mouth over the mouth of the person who can't breath, and give them your air."

He was reaching toward Joxer, who was wheezing and making frantic waving motions. "Don't sweat it, sweetie." I batted Hercules's hands down. "Yeah, right! How would you get the air into Joxer with your tongue in the way? No way, José. And I can really believe that you actually suggested that to Xena and Gabby."

"Not yet, but I figured if it was all right with you..."

"It's not. Sleep next to Gabby?" I gave a full body shiver. "Please. I have problems enough with my insomnia."

Hercules grumbled and stalked off. He ended up sitting next to Gabrielle, both of them staring at Joxer and I (Joxer and me? I'm never sure about that) with matching scowls. I decided to ignore them.

A brief conversation between Hercules and Gabrielle. Yeah, right, it breaks form. So? This is my story. I know because they have scrying mirrors for almost everything on Olympus, and I got to snoop around later, 'kay?

Hercules: "Dammit. Hades only thinks Cerebus is a good guard dog. I'd put that wench up against him any day of the week."

Gabrielle: "I don't get it. He hasn't fawned over me once since she arrived. He's supposed to be in love with me."

Hercules: frowns "I thought that irritated you?"

Gabrielle: "It does, but who does he think he is, dumping me?"

"Hercules: "Uh, Gabby, he can't dump you if he never had you." Pause "He never did have you, did he?"

Gabrielle: Eeeeeeew!

Hercules: "Sorry. It's her fault. I need to get rid of her so I can get my hands on Joxer. Help me, Gabby."

Gabrielle: "Why should I? Why should I get rid of her if you'll just slip into her space?"

Hercules: thinkrationalizethink "Hey, I'm a guy. It wouldn't be like he was in love with another woman, would it?"

Gabrielle: thinks slowly "You know, you're right." (I never claimed she was great on logical thinking, folks. I just report it.) "How can I help?"

Hercules: "Give me information. I need to know her weak points, her secrets."

Gabrielle: "Oh, I don't know. She claims to be from the future. Joxer says she just appeared out of thin air in Ares's temple. Oh, and Ares came around the camp looking for her."

Hercules: "Why?"

Gabrielle: shrugging "Search me. He just said it was important, and we should notify him if we saw her."

Hercules: "Ahh..." An unholy gleam comes into Hercules's eyes

(Meanwhile, back at the ranch.)

"Okay, Joxer. Aphrodite seems to be a bust as to getting me back home. Who else could we try?"

He sighed, scratching his head. "I don't know. Y'see, even the gods aren't supposed to mess around very much with time. There's too big a chance of paradoxes. Gaia and Hera keep a pretty close eye on all the travel methods. Frankly, I'm puzzled. Ares usually deals pretty much with the here and now. Well, he can plan a few years ahead for wars, but you know what I mean."

"Frighteningly enough, I do."

"Let's see, who else could we consult? I'm on pretty good terms with Cupid and Strife, but Cupe is Ares's son, and Strife is his right hand man."

"Scratch Cupid and Strife. Who else?"

"Well... um... Gee, Goddess Scribe, the rest of the Pantheon isn't all that helpful."

"Wonderful."

"We could try Apollo, I guess, if we can get his attention away from his muses. He kinda does the prophecy thing now and then, and he's one of the biggest gossips on Earth or Olympus." Joxer looked around warily. "You won't tell him I said that, will you?"

"He make you nervous?"

"Scribe, he's a god. Duh? Besides, I burn easily, so I don't want to piss him off."

"Okay, we'll drop by his temple tomorrow and try." I peered at the table top. "Why is there a peeled grape sitting on the table?" Joxer sighed.

The customers started to pile in about dusk. When you aren't interested in drinking, fighting, or carousing, there really isn't much incentive to stay up late in a tavern/whorehouse. I mean, there's no foosball, no pool, no satellite television. Just drunk, horny barbarians, mercenaries, and village louts, and I was beginning to think that they were both eternal and universal--the only real difference from my time was clothing and language. Oh, and most of the louts in my time had at least a nodding acquaintance with deodorant. I was glad I used Dial. I wished everybody did.

Joxer and I waited until Hercules was getting another tankard of ale from the bar and sneaked upstairs. Xena and Gabrielle had disappeared before. I paused outside their door and gave it a considering look. Than I shook my head. "Nah. It would be fun, but she'd probably gut me."

Inside the room I was happy to see that there was a sturdy bolt on the door. I shot it, wiggling it to be sure it was firmly in place, then looked around the room. There was a lamp on the table, and Joxer had lit it, so the room was illuminated. "Well, it isn't Holiday Inn, or Best Western, or even Motel 6, but it'll do."

Joxer nodded. "Meg always keeps fresh linen. She believes in giving the customers that little extra."

"Bet she charges for it."

"Well..."

"Right. Let's go to bed, kiddo. I'm still jet lagged from that trip. Or should that be temporally lagged?" As I spoke I withdrew both arms inside my shirt (which was very loose, thank God for recent fashions). I reached up behind myself and unhooked my bra. "I'm not sure of the proper terminology." I slipped both arms, one at a time, through the straps. "But then, I don't suppose the grammar Nazi's are going to break down the door." I worked one arm back through its sleeve and took hold of the bra, pulling it out while I put the other arm through its sleeve. Then I tossed the bra on a chair. I noticed that Joxer was staring at me. "What?"

"What did you just do?"

"Oh, I forgot that this age was lingeriely challenged. I just took off my foundation garment."

Joxer examined it. "It looks like a double slingshot."

"I have heard them called over-the-shoulder boulder holders. That particular on is a Sears brand. Unfortunately for my dainty feminine side snort Victoria's Secret doesn't have much in my size." I rolled my eyes. "And a pastel flower print would just do wonders for my self-esteem." I pointed at him. "Get rid of the hardware, Jox." I spread my fingers on my chest and batted my eyes at him. "Ahm delicate. Ah cai-unt stay-und harsh things next to mah skin." I batted harder. "Of coa-ahs Ah don't mean you-all." I dropped the accent. "Damn, Joxer, if you blush that hard we won't need the blanket."

He took off the plating, leaving himself in a loose shirt and tight brown leather pants. "Should I take off the pant's too?"

"Depends. You got on some Calvin Klines under there?"

"Pardon?"

"Boxers?" I looked again. "Nah. Those pants are so tight you'd have a panty line. Briefs?" I grinned. "Thong?" All I got was a confused look. "Leave 'em on."

"Okay."

"You can take the shirt off, though."

"Are you sure?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'll be strong. I'll resist."

Joxer pulled off the shirt. He was smooth. I figured it was natural because one, I hadn't seen a single hair/nails/tanning/waxing salon since I'd arrived, two, the safety razor hadn't been invented and I would have learned to live with chest hair if being smooth meant having a straight razor around my nipples on a regular basis. And Joxer struck me as a game guy, but I didn't think he'd go the tweezer route. Ouch! Excuse me, had a brief empathetic moment there.

There was a rap on the door. "Joxie?"

Joxer winced, and I shook my head. "I think he heard your shirt hit the floor." I raised my voice. "Go away, Hercules."

"I'm not talking to you, Scribe."

Joxer raised his voice. "Go away, Hercules."

taptap "Aw, don't be like that, snookums."

"Ignore him," I whispered.

taptaptapTAP

"Hercules!" I snapped.

"Room service. I have that wine you ordered."

Joxer started toward the door, but I stopped him. "Joxer, wine isn't the type of room service you're likely to get at Meg's, is it? Nice try, Herc."

mutter raprap "House detective. I hear you have a woman in there."

"Oh, get over it! The strange thing in this place would be if he didn't have a woman in here."

"Dammit." pause taptaptap "Candygram."

I started to open the door. "Wait a minute! Candygrams aren't invented till Blazing Saddles. Will you go downstairs? Go molest a barbarian or something." I shook my head. "I used to wish someone would be madly infatuated with me, but now I can see that it can be a pain in the ass."

BANG!

Joxer covered his rump protectively, "Literally, for some of us."

BANGPOUNDPOUNDBANG!

"Oh, for heavens...! I'm gonna cool his jets." Meg was a conscientious businesswoman--there was a wash basin on the table. I grabbed the jug next to it and filled the basin. "Open the door."

"What? Scribe, if you want to watch people have sex you just have to go downstairs. Leave me out of it."

I carefully picked up the basin and stood a couple of feet in front of the door. "Trust me. Open the door and stand back."

Joxer reached up and put one hand on the bolt and the other on the knob. He closed his eyes, and I think he whispered a little prayer, dunno to who. It might have been a good thing. I had just started to consider what the sight of a shirtless Joxer might do to the already inflamed Hercules. In one quick motion he shot the bolt and jerked the door open, jumping back.

BA--

Hercules was in mid-rap. I heaved.

Sploosh

You know, he looks good wet, even gaping.

"I'm surprised that steam isn't rising. Now, go downstairs! If you absolutely, positively have to hump someone, try kissing up to Iolaus. From what I gather he's your main squeeze anyway, and you're acting like a dog!" I slammed the door shut and bolted it again.

There was muttering from outside, but no more banging. Finally we heard him stomping off down the hall, then down the stairs. I sighed, putting the empty basin back on the table. "Maybe now we can get some sleep." I laid down. "C'mon, Joxer." He slowly started to climb into bed. "Blow out the lamp, hon."

He hesitated. "Are you sure you want to be alone in the dark with me?"

I sat up. "Day-um, man! How badly has the world been kicking you around?" He looked at me. I sighed. "Don't tell me. I guess the world hasn't changed much from now to my time. It's still filled with short-sighted idiots who wouldn't know a decent, worthwhile person if they ran up and bit them in the butt. G'wan and blow out the lamp. I haven't needed a nightlight since I was five." He stared at me. "Oh, all right. But I got rid of the Snoopy nightlight when I went to college."

He blew out the lamp. A minute later I felt the bed dip. After a moment I said, "Joxer, it feels like you're about to fall off the bed. Are you hanging on by your fingernails?"

"I'm thin--I don't take up much space."

"Uh-huh." I reached out and grabbed. He squeaked. "Oops! Sorry." I let go and grabbed again. This time I got an arm and pulled him closer. "It's not going to kill either of us if we bump into each other, unless this will be just too tempting for you."

"No, I'll be all right."

"Thank you."

"No, that's not what I meant! I mean you're not like a woman to me..."

"Thank you very much."

"No! I mean, you're like a sister to me."

"Joxer, if I remember my Greek mythology correctly, that wasn't all that much of a deterrent among some sets."

"No, I mean you're my friend, and I wouldn't... I don't..."

I laughed. "If you know me long enough you'll figure out when I'm teasing you, Joxer. I understand. I happen to believe that it is possible for a man and a woman to be just friends."

He sighed. "That's a relief, because I was getting a crick in my back, letting my legs hang over the edge of the bed."

"Great. Now get some sleep. We're going to need all our energy to sneak past Hercules tomorrow to get to Apollo's temple."

"Okay." He was quiet for a moment. "Scribe?"

"What? You want a glass of water? A story?"

"That would be nice, but I just wanted to say that maybe you shouldn't have doused Hercules like that."

"Why not? It worked."

"Yeah, but he was awful mad at you."

"So? He's a hero, he won't hurt me."

"He won't, like, beat you up, but I'm kind of worried he'll pull something devious."

"He strikes me as being about as devious as white bread."

"Maybe. But I really didn't like that 'mmmwhaaa haaa haaa haaa' that floated back up when he went downstairs."

I snuggled into the bed. "Don't worry, kiddo. I watched years and years of cartoons. I've studied the techniques of Wile E. Coyote, Oilcan Harry, Dishonest John and Snidely Whiplash. I should be able to out-sneak one Greek demi-god hero."

Vanity, thy name is Scribe.