It's Not True

This story answers the July 2002 Challenge to incorporate six of the following list items: dusty scrolls, a ladder, helmet of invisibility, a basket of eggs, a long blond wig, the sentence "sorry it keeps getting in the way", a Phoenician urn, stuffed grape leaves

Author's Note: This story was meant to be a lighthearted farce. It is not the author's intention to insult or offend anyone. This is also not a slash story in any shape or form, but it does contain a hefty amount of sexual inneundo via a series of misunderstandings. If you are upset or easily offended by such circumstances, it is recommended that you skip this tale. Comments or criticisms are always welcome, and as always, I claim no ownership of Herc or Iolaus, although I do have shares in the Cercopes.

My apologies to Seinfeld for stealing one of his classic bits. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Aphrodite was not a goddess to judge. Well, to be perfectly honest, she did quite a lot of judging. But never where love was concerned. As she was quite fond of reminding anyone who would listen, “love is blind”. And often never more blind than to the ones who were in it. So, sometimes, they needed a little push, an inspiration, if you will, to make them see what was in front of them. And that inspiration often came in the most unlikely of places. In this case, it came in the form of a half mortal son of Zeus and his scruffy, yet charming, companion. Aphrodite knew all she needed to do was set the pair on their course, and everything else would work itself out.

However, the two heroes in question had been busy dealing with godly machinations of a much more sinister persuasion, which came in the form of a giant worm with even gianter slicing jaws. For a few moments, things seemed very dire as the brave Iolaus got caught up in the monster’s deadly coils. But with a Herculean act, the daring demigod managed to free his partner, and working together in perfect synchronization, they ended the beast’s reign of terror once and for all. Although Iolaus had been liberally slimed, neither hero had been hurt during the encounter, and they triumphantly left the dead worm behind for the vultures and the wolves, in mutual agreement that Hera was officially out of ideas.

After such a harrowing encounter, looking death directly in the eye... Well, not the eye, exactly, since the creature was ocularly compromised, but Iolaus had definitely looked death in the gaping jaws. Naturally after such an experience, the golden hunter was looking forward to a little down time, and he convinced his friend to agree to a delightful afternoon of fishing.

However, he had just gotten settled along the stream bank, having attached his fishing line to a heavy stick and cast it in, when Hercules and his ill-timed sense of humor intervened. Having found a large earthworm as he pawed through the leaf litter for bait, the demigod crept up behind his drowsing friend and placed the annelid on his shoulder.

With a scream that rattled the very depths of Tartarus, Iolaus instantly awoke in a vertical leap of impressive distance. Unfortunately, his fishing pole went sailing in a more horizontal arc, hovering for a split second before it disappeared underneath the rippling water of the stream. Hercules was instantly sorry and apologized profusely for his shenanigans, but the poor golden hunter was inconsolable. He had already been tired and hungry, on top of getting slimed and looking death in the gaping jaws. Being the butt of a practical joke and losing his fishing rod were just too much, and the normally sunny Iolaus entered a sulk of momentous proportions. Finally, to placate him, Hercules proposed a solution.

“There’s an inn not far from here where we can spend the night,” the demigod cajoled his stone faced partner. “Aphrodite told me about it. Come on, it’ll be my treat. What do you say?”

“Aphrodite?” the hunter asked, breaking his self-imposed silence. “Since when does she give you tips on where to stay?”

“Who better to know all the trendy hotspots?” Hercules replied with a shrug and a grin, happy that his friend was at least speaking to him again. “She says that I’ll just love it.”

“Which means you’ll hate it,” Iolaus wisely concluded.

“Probably.” The demigod’s grin got bigger. “But there’s sure to be food and girls, so I’ll wager that you’ll love it.”

“All right,” the hunter agreed with a martyred sigh. “I suppose it’s the least you can do to start making it up to me.”

“One night, one meal, and we’re even,” Hercules informed him. “And you can never use this incident to blackmail me into anything else again.”

“One night, dinner and breakfast tomorrow morning, and I can use this against you once more,” Iolaus negotiated.

“One night, dinner and breakfast, and you get first pick of any lady that strikes your fancy,” the demigod countered. “And then this matter is closed.”

“Deal,” the hunter told him as they shook on it. “And now that that’s settled, you and your money pouch can lead the way.”

As promised, the inn was not far away and the duo made it there just as afternoon began to give way to the approaching evening. It was a large establishment, but as they entered, both heroes were suitably impressed. Everything was spotlessly clean, down to the floors which gleamed with a high polished shine. And while the decor may have been a bit fancy for the simple warriors’ needs, they both agreed that the tapestries and the pottery and the flowers all blended together to create a tasteful, refined atmosphere.

“Hey, Herc,” Iolaus grinned, picking up a richly decorated piece of pottery. “How much does a Phoenician urn?”

“Stop that,” the demigod hissed, taking the piece from him and returning it to its stand. “And behave yourself.”

As they approached the counter (bar seemed too vulgar a term for the dark, flawless wood and meticulously arranged glasses) they were greeted by an elegantly dressed man, tall, fair, and wiry with warm brown eyes and an even warmer smile.

“Welcome to the Cercopes,” he enthused. “How may I help you gentlemen?”

“Well, we were hoping to get a room for the night,” Hercules told him.

“Then you’ve come to the right place. My name is Philemon, co-owner of the Cercopes.” He pulled out a scroll, glancing at it briefly before he started scribbling on a piece of parchment. “Our rooms offer all the comforts of home, but if you find anything lacking, just say the word and we’ll do our best to accommodate you. We’ll be serving dinner in about half an hour, and we feature fabulous nightly entertainment here in the evenings.”

The man began to take down their information, impressed but professionally reserved when he found out he was dealing with Greece’s legendary hero and his stalwart friend.

“You’re all set, Hercules,” Philemon told him, handing him a small key. “I’ve put you in room seven, and I hope everything is to your liking.”

“I’m sure it will be just fine,” the demigod assured him.

“Do you have any baggage?” the man inquired.

“No, we tend to travel light,” Iolaus answered.

“So I see. Well, let me just get my partner, and I’ll have him show you to your room.” He disappeared momentarily behind a swinging door and then reappeared with a hulking man whose size rivaled that of the demigod, dressed in leathers much like the two heroes. He was full of muscles and had the posturing of a warrior, and it would have been natural to be a bit afraid of him, as his shaved head and dark beard in conjunction with his impressive physique gave him a bit of a menacing air. But his dark eyes held no trace of malice and he sported a friendly grin as he greeted his guests. “This is my fellow co-owner,” Philemon introduced him.

“Ceyx,” the man told them, giving them each a warrior’s shake in turn. “It’s an honor to meet you both. Now if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you upstairs and show you your room.”

They dutifully obeyed, and he led them upstairs to room seven, waiting for a moment while they entered to make sure everything was satisfactory.

“If Phil or I can be of any service, don’t hesitate to let us know,” he instructed, before closing the door and heading back downstairs.

“Was the room to their liking?” Philemon asked him.

“Sure,” Ceyx replied, sliding onto a stool across the counter from his friend. “They struck me as ‘no frills’ kind of guys. They aren’t going to get hung up on the trappings. You know, I still can’t believe it. Hercules and Iolaus staying at our place. Those two are legends. Back in my soldiering days, they were our inspiration. We’d all tell stories we’d heard about their courage in the face of danger, and we all wanted to be like the mighty Hercules and his friend. What is so funny?”

“If you only knew what you were saying,” Philemon snickered.

“What?” Ceyx demanded, utterly perplexed.

“Hercules and Iolaus are... Well, they are.”

“Are what?”

“You know.”

Ceyx looked at his friend blankly for a minute, then realization set in.

“No way,” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“I’m telling you, they are.”

“Have you been dipping into the ale again?”

“Look, when they came in, Hercules introduced him as his partner.”

“So, what?” Ceyx argued. “I introduce you as my partner.”

“Yes, but we are business partners,” Philemon reasoned. “We have a legally binding partnership. Documented, on parchment. I think their definition of partner is something entirely different. Besides, don’t you think that it’s a little strange that they only got one room? With one bed?”

“Maybe they can’t afford two rooms.”

“Oh, please,” Philemon snorted. “They’re heroes. They must get offerings all the time for their labors. And Hercules was acting awfully possessive of Iolaus. Had his hand on his shoulder the whole time.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” Ceyx told him. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being...that, but they just can’t be. This is Hercules you’re talking about. He’s been married before.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Philemon declared loftily. “Did you see the way he and Iolaus look at each other? Just watch them together tonight. You’ll see what I mean.”

The two heroes had indeed been happy with their room, finding it had the comforts of home and then some. But after a brief exploration, they decided to quickly clean up before going on to dinner. The Cercopes was fortunate to have a natural spring bubbling up from the ground behind it. In a feat of engineering, Ceyx had channeled the water, designing a system where it flowed through a pipe, branched off into three separate, enclosed baths, and then flowed out again into another pipe that led off to the river. So although it was cold, each bath had a constant supply of clean water running through it. No strangers to bathing in cold water, Hercules and Iolaus were just happy to have the luxury of soap and towels and no fish nibbling at any exposed areas. However, two of the baths were already occupied, so they decided to share the empty one, as they were both hungry and in a hurry to finish up so they could eat. Good natured squabbling ensued as they jockeyed for position in the bath, with Hercules finally shoving his partner into the shallower end, arguing that he was littler.

Ceyx had been busy bringing stacks of clean towels to all the baths, but as he entered the dressing room of bath number three, he paused as he placed the towels on the bench. He’d never meant to eavesdrop, but he recognized Iolaus’ voice floating above the splashing and he froze as he heard the blond’s words.

“I’m not little,” the hunter was insisting loudly. “I’m average, thank you very much. Things just seem small in comparison to your mutantly large size. Besides, size isn’t everything. It’s what you do with what you’ve got. And you have to admit, I’m very good with what I’ve got.”

“I don’t know,” Hercules replied absently. “You’ve been slowing down lately. Just walking through the drill. I don’t think you’re really trying anymore.”

“Slowing down?” Iolaus’ voice was an indignant squeak. “Get over here, big guy, and I’ll show you who’s slowing down!”

Ceyx dropped his towels and bolted out of the bath, walking quickly back to the inn, wondering if Philemon could have possibly been right.

“No way,” he muttered, shaking his head. “They just can’t be. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

When they arrived in the dining room, the two warriors were dismayed to find that all the tables were full. Philemon bade them to have a seat at the bar, promising it wouldn’t be long until a table became available for them. So they decided to sit at the counter and have a drink while they waited.

“I’m starving,” Iolaus whined pitifully as he slid onto a stool. “I told you we were late, Herc. If you hadn’t taken so long...”

“Me?” the demigod yelped. “You’re the one who just had to have a bath. I wanted to come straight to dinner.”

“Well, excuse me,” the hunter pouted as Ceyx set a mug of mead before him. “I’m sorry I wanted to clean up a little first. But may I remind you that it was your fault that I was covered in sticky goo to begin with?”

“How was that my fault?” Hercules asked, taking a sip of his own mead. “I tried to tell you it was coming. You just didn’t get out of the way quick enough.”

Blushing in spite of himself, Ceyx darted through the swinging door, almost colliding with his partner.

“What’s with you?” Philemon asked.

“Nothing,” he stammered, not wanting to admit to his friend that he was starting to think Phil had been right about their guests.

“Well, take this out to Hercules and Iolaus,” Philemon instructed, handing him a plate. “Our compliments, to compensate for not having a table for them.”

With a sigh, Ceyx took the plate and went back out to the counter where they were still bickering.

“We would have been here earlier,” the demigod was reminding his friend. “But you just had to stop for a little afternoon delight.”

“There was no delight in it,” Iolaus grumbled. “You made me drop my rod before either of us had any fun.”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d freak out so much over seeing my big worm.”

“Come on, Herc, you know I’m sensitive, especially after this morning’s adventure.”

Ceyx almost threw the plate of stuffed grape leaves at them.

“Compliments of the Cercopes,” he stammered, turning and fleeing back through the swinging door.

“This place sure does keep them running,” Hercules observed, watching his host speed off before he could thank him. Iolaus, his mouth full of food, did not comment.

“You’ve been watching them pretty closely tonight.” Ceyx jumped at his friend’s voice low in his ear. “What have you decided?”

“I’ll admit, you had me wondering,” he told his partner. “But I still think you’ve been sniffing too much floor polish. Hercules and Iolaus just aren’t. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But they aren’t.”

“Ceyx, Ceyx,” Philemon sighed. “You poor deluded man. You need to quit believing all the myths you read in those dusty scrolls and see what’s before your eyes. When I served them dinner, Iolaus took the rabbit off Hercules’ plate and gave him his asparagus.”

“You call that proof?” Ceyx scoffed. “That’s pathetic. Look, if they were, then why would Iolaus be flirting with that woman?”

“That’s no woman, my naive friend,” Philemon told him. “That would be a man, in last year’s gown and a hideously bad blond wig. And look, Hercules is jealous and he’s coming to break it up.”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” the demigod inquired of his enraptured friend.

“Now?” Iolaus murmured, barely looking away from his latest conquest.

“You’ll thank me for it later,” Hercules promised, grabbing his partner by the arm. “Excuse us.”

He pulled the hunter off into the corner where they entered a very animated discussion. Iolaus did not seem to be agreeing, until the demigod finally pointed to his throat. The hunter glanced back at the willowy woman who had captured his fancy, taking a good, long look. An expression of horror came over his face as his hand unconsciously went to his own adams apple. After another quick conversation, he returned to his new companion.

“Hi,” the hunter told her nervously, giving a bit of a wave. “Umm, my friend over there needs my help with something, so... I have to go.”

“That’s too bad,” she purred demurely. “I was looking forward to getting to know you better, Iolaus.”

“Oh, I’m really not that interesting,” he insisted. “Believe me.”

“Well, how about a goodbye kiss before you go, Sugar?”

“I’d love to, I really would,” the hunter spluttered. “But, you’re, uh, so tall. I’d need a ladder to get up there, and just my luck, I don’t have one on me. But I’ll definitely take a raincheck, ok? Bye.”

Iolaus ducked out of arm’s reach and hurried over to where his partner was watching with a decided smirk on his face.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hang around for awhile?” Hercules asked him.

“Not unless you happen to have the helmet of invisibility on you,” the hunter sighed, running a hand through his golden curls. “No, the way this day is going, I think it would be safer to just get a bottle of wine and go to bed.”

“Leaving so soon?” Philemon asked as they stopped by the bar to request the wine. “The entertainment is about to start.”

“Yeah, well, something came up,” Iolaus muttered.

“I’ll bet.” The innkeeper gave him a sly grin. “I’ll send Ceyx down to the wine cellar to get you one of our best bottles, and he’ll bring it up to your room.”

They thanked him and departed, heading back up to room number seven. Philemon tracked down his partner and relayed the request of the two heroes.

“Why can’t you go get the wine?” Ceyx asked.

“You know I never go down into that cellar,” he replied with a shudder. “That place is crawling with spiders.”

“All right,” the larger man agreed. “I’ll go down and get the wine. But you have to take it up to them.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m busy.”

“You’re stacking coasters,” Philemon pointed out. “Why don’t you want to go up there? Are you afraid of catching them in the act of something?”

“No,” Ceyx answered through gritted teeth. “Fine, I’ll take them the damned wine.”

Up in room seven, Hercules and Iolaus were comparing the strains from their latest battle. The hunter’s back and ribs were a little sore, and the demigod was feeling the pull in his left shoulder. Hercules offered to work out the kinks for his friend if Iolaus would reciprocate. And the hunter eagerly agreed, flopping down on the bed and declaring he was going first.

Ceyx trudged up the stairs, determined to just hand over the wine and get out of there. But as he reached door number seven and raised his hand to knock, he plainly heard Iolaus’ loud protest.

“Herc, you’re using too much oil.”

“I have to compensate for friction. You want me to hurt you?”

“Oh, you know what I like. You’ve got it way too slippery. I’m not even going to be able to feel it.”

“Feel that?”

“Oh, that’s good,” the hunter groaned. “Harder. Come on, put some of that half god strength into it. Show me why they call you the legendary Hercules.”

Turning a shade of scarlet previously unknown to mortal men, Ceyx pounded loudly on the door. After a few moments, Hercules opened it, bare chested but fortunately wearing pants. Ceyx thrust the bottle at him, and the demigod took it after wiping off his hands on a towel.

“Are you all right?” he asked the flustered innkeeper.

Not trusting himself to speak, Ceyx merely nodded and turned to go.

“Don’t think you’re just going to roll over and go to sleep, little buddy” Hercules threatened as he turned back into his room and pulled the door shut behind him. “You have to do me next.”

Ceyx bit back a yawn as he climbed into the hen house. He’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, not sure why he was so bothered by the thoughts that Hercules and Iolaus might be... Well, there wasn’t anything wrong with that. Maybe it was the fact that Philemon had been right all along, and he just didn’t want to admit it. But as he reached underneath the protesting hens, Ceyx decided that there had to be another explanation. He just could not believe that the two legendary heroes were...

“Herc, come on, you have to pull me in closer!”

“I can’t when you keep poking me in the stomach with that thing.”

“Sorry, it keeps getting in the way.”

“Well, why don’t you take care of it?”

“Because we’re going to need it later.”

“You can get it back later, but for now let’s just try to figure out the right positioning to make this work or else I’m going to hurt you.”

“I give up,” Ceyx whispered in resignation. He gathered up his basket of eggs and climbed out of the henhouse, plodding back inside the inn.

On the back side of the henhouse, Iolaus unstrapped the sword from his waist, tossing it aside as he executed a running leap toward his partner. Hercules caught him, letting his momentum carry him as he tossed his friend through the air where the hunter performed a graceful flip and landed lightly on his feet, some distance away. They ran through the move a few times to get the feel of it, then Iolaus put his sword back on and they practiced until they could do it flawlessly, without the sword jabbing the demigod. The hunter was even able to seamlessly draw the sword from his sheath mid flip, and both warriors were confident that the next giant worm they encountered would be no match for their newly patented Cercopean Maneuver.

“Where’s Hercules?” Ceyx asked as he slid a plate of eggs in front of the hunter.

“He’s enjoying his morning run,” Iolaus replied, eagerly diving into his breakfast. “He’ll be along soon, but he’s not a big egg fan. He’ll probably just want some fruit and nuts.”

“I guess you guys have been... friends for a long time.”

“Oh yeah, we’re longtime companions.” The hunter craned his neck over the counter. “Do you have any goat’s milk back there?”

Ceyx produced a bottle and poured some into a mug for him.

“Well, you two seem very... happy together.”

Iolaus snorted into his mug.

“Hercules’ mother tells us we argue like an old married couple.” The hunter thought about it for a moment, then shrugged and went back to his eggs. “Well, I guess she has a point.”

“His mother?” Ceyx gave him a look of surprise. “She approves of your... partnership?”

“Sure. Well, maybe in the beginning she wasn’t too happy with her son getting involved with the likes of me, but it didn’t take long to win her over. And now she calls me her third son.”

“Wow,” the innkeeper murmured. “What about your family?”

“Mine? Well, I can’t say my mother was ever very happy about my lifestyle choices. I guess that’s why Herc and I always spend the holidays with Alcmene.”

“Iolaus,” Ceyx began hesitantly. “I have to ask. How? I mean, how did you and Hercules... Do you know what I’m saying?”

“I’m not sure,” the hunter told him, draining his mug.

“How did it happen?” Ceyx asked, refilling his mug. “How did you guys get to become... partners?”

Iolaus took another bite of his eggs, chewing slowly as he thought about the question.

“I suppose we just always felt we were meant to be together,” the hunter said. “I know I’ve always felt a connection with Hercules. We have a lot of fun together, and whenever things get hard, he’s there to give me a hand. And there’s nobody I’d rather have at my back. From the start, he was the only one I ever wanted to be my partner, and once I realized that, I wasn’t about to let him get away from me.”

Ceyx nodded, thinking about what Iolaus had said as he disappeared into the kitchen to see what fruits they had available to offer the demigod when he came in.

“Are Hercules and Iolaus gone?”

Philemon looked up from the books he’d been going over in the small room they used for an office.

“Yes, they left a few minutes ago. Why?”

“They just got me thinking about something,” Ceyx explained, pacing nervously around the room. “Phil, do you ever think about...? I mean, have you ever thought that...? Did you ever wonder if...?”

“Ceyx, what in Tartarus are you trying to say?”

Giving up on words and drawing on Iolaus’ inspiration, Ceyx decided to follow his heart. He crossed the room and leaned over the desk, planting a firm kiss on his stunned partner. Philemon sat in shock for a moment, but then a broad grin crept over his face.

“Hercules couldn’t have done it any better.”

“I hate to admit it, but Aphrodite was right,” Hercules announced as they set off down the road toward Corinth. “I did enjoy the Cercopes.”

“Yeah, it was a nice place,” Iolaus agreed. “Although the girls left something to be desired.”

“Philemon and Ceyx were great,” the demigod continued, deciding against making a comment concerning his partner’s taste in women. The hunter had regained his former good cheer, and Hercules had no desire to tempt the Fates. “They were the perfect hosts.”

“Yeah.” Iolaus shot his friend a sideways glance. “They are, you know.”

“Are what?”

“You know.”

Hercules stared in confusion at his friend, until the hunter provided him with a clarifying gesture.

“Oh, come on,” the demigod argued.

“They are,” Iolaus insisted.

“And how do you know that?”

“Oh, please, Hercules, it’s so obvious.”

“Obvious to you? You can’t even tell a woman from a man in a dress.”

“Fine, don’t believe me,” the hunter pouted. “But I know what I’m talking about.”

“I think you’ve taken one too many hits to the head,” Hercules told him. “They aren’t. No way.”

They walked in silence for a few moments, then the demigod looked back at his partner.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

Finis

Disclaimer: No giant worms were harmed during the writing of this story although two innkeepers were outed.

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