Hercules had made his way through the trees and reached the center of the grove. He pushed down his breeches, critically eyeing the body of water before him. *Enchanted, hm? Maybe I ought to wait till Iolaus checks that map.*

He completely ignored the boy who was sitting on a the big rock that jutted out into the water. He looked to be about fourteen or fifteen--old enough for the voice to begin to drop, but not quite up to shaving yet. He was very short and thin, but he still didn't appear frail. Instead exuded an air of lean, nervous energy. In fact, anyone seeing him would have been surprised at how still he was sitting. He looked like he should be at least fidgeting, if not bouncing off any available walls. He had gingery red hair that almost seemed to explode off his head, like dandelion fluff. Mint-green eyes were studying the newly arrived hero with acute interest. "What're ya thinking about, mister?"

Hercules didn't even glance at him. Hercules' voice was musing, "Enchanted spring, huh? Maybe I'd better wait till Iolaus checks that map."

A grin spread over the youngster's features. "Don't look like a spring to me."

"I don't even think that's a spring," Hercules muttered. "It looks more like a pond. Still..." he trailed off.

"Even if it is a spring, dont'cha think there's more than one in this neck of the woods?"

"Besides, there must be lots of springs around here. What are the odds that this is the one he's thinking about?"

"Yeah, and the old geezer who made up the map in the first place was whacko, right?"

Hercules didn't speak this time--but he thought. As for the question of the enchanted spring--he rather doubted it. Iphicles had informed him that the map of the area they were to visit was particularly unreliable. "The map is nearly thirty years out of date, and the man who drew it up was... fanciful, to say the least," Iphicles had admitted. "In fact, he spent the last few years of his life cultivating seaweed."

Hercules had shrugged. "That's a little eccentric, sure, but not necessarily crazy."

"He was doing it in his bathing tub. And about a hundred wash basins. And an assortment of damp sponges. Even that wouldn't have been so bad, but when he began to try to organize sea horse races in the Royal Garden's bird bath, complete with a betting system..."

The boy seemed to have been following Hercules' train of thought. "Right! And he would have used sea monkeys for jockeys. Look at it!" Hercules studied the water again. It was tiny, but pristine. The water was gently green, and looked incredibly cool and inviting. "Ain't that the most inviting thing you've ever seen? Wouldn't you rather dive into that than kiss a beautiful woman?" There was an almost infinitesimal nod. "Almost gotcha!" The boy tapped his chin. "What would be the clincher? Gimme an idea, mister."

"I suppose I could live with my own smell for another couple of days..."

The boy sat up straighter, eyes gleaming. "But what about ya friend--whatsisname? Iolaus? He don't like BO, does he? Smell ya pits."

Hercules lifted his arm, leaning down for a sniff. A spasm of dismay crossed his face. He headed right toward the rock where the boy was seated. The boy had to leap out of the way to avoid being trampled as Hercules dashed to the end of the rock and dived off. He wasn't a trained diver, but he usually managed to cut the water pretty cleanly when he tried. This time he did a belly flop.

The boy squealed, dancing back to avoid the fine spray that showered out. He danced around in a circle, as if suddenly energized. "Gotcha, gotcha, gotcha!" he crowed. "Oh, man, what a buzz!" He giggled as he watched the man swimming. "Now, aint'cha glad you gave in?"

Iolaus had reached the pond, map clutched in hand. He ignored the boy, too. "Look, there's no mistaking it--this is the spring. The mapmaker even indicated the grove, and..." He looked up. "You didn't!"

Hercules stopped to tread water, and shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry, Iolaus, but for some reason I just couldn't resist. Besides, nothing is happening."

Disgusted, Iolaus threw the map down. "This is a Tartarus of a time to lose your good judgment! You just don't mess around when it comes to magic, Herk."

The boy, who had been eyeing Iolaus speculatively, paled suddenly. He looked at the swimmer. "Herk?" He looked back at the irritated blond man. "Iolaus? Iolaus--Hercules? Oh, fuck!" Whim, God of Sudden Impulses, decided it was high time he started searching for hiding places, and disappeared in a shower of orange sparks.