Do They Know it’s Christmas

by sHaYcH

Disclaimer: These ladies aren’t mine. Just borrowin’ ‘em for a brief bit of storytelling levity. Please enjoy. Do not fold, spindle or mutilate the writer, as I am broke and do not taste so great with ketchup.

Assumptions, presumptions and other umptuous words: This story presumes that Xena and Gabrielle are lovers. This story also presumes that somehow, Gabrielle was able to revive Xena the Soul Savior of Japan and return her to the state of being also known as life. Of course, Gabrielle is just thrilled to have her honey buns back, and Xena’s just as thrilled not to have to smell one more demonic fart. Those things really stink, you know?


It was a clear, cool day, full of the kind of rare sunshine that makes winter mornings gleam like a thousand jewels. Three companions slowly meandered their way up a road, their breath painting foggy patches in the air before them.

"Brr. I’ve never seen it so cold without a recent snowfall, Xena," Gabrielle commented as she rubbed her arms. Dressed warmly in a long patchwork coat, heavy brown tunic and thick linen breeches, the bard still shivered involuntarily.

Stopping to rub down the horse’s quivering flank, Xena grunted brusquely in agreement. The warrior’s clothes were as warm as the bard’s — heavy tunic, leather breeches and a fur cloak were worn in place of her usual battle dress.

"I hope we find a town soon," Xena said as soon as Argo was ready to walk again. "Argo’s so cold, she’s barely able to keep moving, and I really don’t want to see her founder."

"Do you want to drape her in our bedroll? I can stand a little horsiness if it’ll make her warmer," Gabrielle said, moving to untie their roll of blankets.

A thin smile creased the warrior’s mouth. "Sure, can’t hurt." Together, they wrestled with knots stiffened by cold, untying and unrolling the blankets. Argo’s ears twitched as the two women settled the blankets over her flanks, but otherwise, she did not move.

Almost immediately, there was a change. Argo let out a pleased whuff of air and whickered lightly, as if thanking them.

"Guess that did the trick," Gabrielle said, smiling slightly. Wish I could be so easily warmed. I am so looking forward to a warm inn and a soft bed tonight.

"I guess so," Xena replied, reaching out to ruffle the bard’s short blonde hair. "Thanks. Guess I forget sometimes that fur isn’t everything." She’s really cold. I hope this next town has something more than a taproom and a weak fire.

Gabrielle patted the warrior’s stomach lightly. "It’s okay, Argo forgives you," the bard said in a syrupy tone, trying to look as serious as possible.

"Ha-ha, funny, Gabster," Xena replied evenly, tilting her head down until her nose brushed the bard’s. "Real, real," she licked tip of Gabrielle’s nose, earning a squawk of surprise, "funny." Chuckling wickedly as the bard clapped her hands over her nose and began rubbing it furiously, Xena winked at Argo, who was observing the proceedings with her usual indifferent patience.

"Ew! Ewww! Xena! Ew! That was my nose you just put your tongue on!" The bard was still rubbing her nose, making goofy faces that the warrior was hard pressed not to laugh at.

Xena shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, I knew that. Doesn’t take a warrior princess to recognize a bardic nostril." I’m not going to laugh. I swear, I’m not going to laugh.

Gabrielle glared at Xena. Xena only raised one dark eyebrow as if to say, ‘go ahead, I dare ya’. The bard rolled her eyes, sighed and turned away to begin walking down the road once more.

"Heh. Xena: one; bard: zero," Xena whispered, then began to whistle a jaunty tune. I got you, babe, the warrior thought as a smirk rippled across her face.

"I heard that, warrior princess. Don’t plan the victory celebration yet," Gabrielle called back warningly. She got me! Again! That’s twice in one week! Who would have thought that she’d be so into joking around?

"Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it," Xena replied lightly. The warrior’s smile grew larger as she imagined a cloud of fog around Gabrielle’s head growing bigger, as if steam were venting out of the bard’s ears. Hmm, cute, shapely, sweet little ears that I’m going to spend all night nibbling on... she mused, as her smile took on a decidedly wicked edge.

As they traveled, the day warmed by increments, and though their breath still wreathed visibly around their faces, it was not as thick a fog.

"I need new mittens," Gabrielle complained sourly, rubbing her hands together to try and chafe some warmth into them. "My fingertips are numb."

Xena stopped and took the bard’s hands into hers, kissing the cold extremities softly. "Better?" she asked, smiling as she looked down into Gabrielle’s half-closed eyes.

"Mm, yeah, much," the bard murmured, leaning into Xena’s warmth.

"Good," the warrior replied, letting go of her lover.

Gabrielle let out a shriek of outraged surprise as she staggered into Argo’s flank. "Ooo, Xena! You insensitive beast!" She tackled the warrior, knocking her down.

They rolled about on the cold ground, laughing and tickling each other senseless, until they were both breathless.

"Whew," Gabrielle said, standing and brushing herself off. "That’s one way to warm up," she finished, reaching her hand out to help the taller woman stand.

"Works for me," Xena said nonchalantly as she unlimbered their waterskin from Argo’s pack. Thoughtfully, she weighed it before drinking. At the rate we’re sucking up this water, we’ll need to find a stream if we don’t reach a town soon, Xena mused as she sipped slowly. "Drink?" she offered, as they started walking again.

"Sure," the bard replied, accepting the skin. With deft hands, Gabrielle squirted the last of their water into her mouth. "Damn, I’m sorry. I’ll dip next time," the bard said as she handed the empty skin back to Xena.

Xena shrugged it off. "When you thirst, drink, Gabrielle."

"I know, I know," the bard said. "It’s one of the first things you taught me about the trail, Xe. I just didn’t want to seem like a little piggy."

Xena gave the bard a long, lingering look, letting her gaze follow Gabrielle’s every curve. "Small chance of that, love. It’s no worry. We’ll either find a town or I’ll go find us a stream. Either way, we’ll have plenty of water."

"You know something, Xena? You can be rather useful sometimes," Gabrielle said offhandedly as they wandered down the road.

"I try," Xena replied dryly.

They had walked for another five miles when suddenly, Gabrielle stopped and put up a hand. "Hey, Xena, do you hear what I hear? " They had just crested a rise and were looking down on the beginnings of a small village.

"Yeah, sounds like a real party," Xena replied.

The bard shook her head ruefully, and laughed. "Well, at least it’s not yelling, and screaming."

"You got that right. I need a vacation," the warrior quipped.

"A vacation, you? Now why would you say that?" Gabrielle asked, slipping her arm into Xena’s as they headed for the village.

"Oh, I dunno — death, resurrection, death, resurrection, death... sensing a pattern here, dear?" Xena’s tone was light and teasing, but Gabrielle could sense an underlying tension.

"Mm, could be. Or maybe it’s just that someone’s trying to tell you something," Gabrielle suggested lightly. Hug your sweetie, Gabrielle. She’s feeling each and every one of those resurrections today. The stray thought caught the bard off guard, but looking into her lover’s eyes, she realized that it was true.

Xena pondered that one for a moment before shaking her head. "Naw, I’ve been losing my religion for so long now that I doubt anyone out there would bother trying to talk to me." The warrior’s shoulders drooped just slightly.

"There’s always Aphrodite," Gabrielle said warmly as she wormed her way under Xena’s arm and gave her a snuggle. "She likes talking to us."

"No, Gabrielle. She likes talking to you. I’m sure she’d rather not have to deal with ‘tall, dark and deadly’ any more." Xena held no illusions about how the goddess of love felt about her. But then, she supposed she wouldn’t like herself much either, if she’d been the one responsible for the deaths of most of her immediate family, as well as several distant cousins. Being a godslayer did that to a person, you know.

"Oh, don’t be such a pooh-pooher Xe. Tell you what, next temple we see, I’ll go in and ask her," the bard promised, giving the taller woman a sturdy hug. "Believe me, it’s true," she whispered. "Aphrodite doesn’t hate you."

Xena pulled the bard against her tightly, kissing the top of her head. I only hope you’re right, my love. It took Argo turning to her mistress with a reproachful look and a soft whicker before Xena murmured, "Shall we get going? I can hear a warm bath calling our names, followed closely by the familiar voices of the soft bed and the hot meal."

Gabrielle cocked her head toward the village and listened. "Nah," she said after a moment. "It’s just the partiers."

Xena laughed and they made their way into the village.


The entire community was festooned as if for a festival. From every eave, fence post and tree hung a myriad of brightly colored bits of twisted fabrics, and ropes of sparkling beads. Wreathes of woven branches graced every door and every other bit of free space was taken up by tinkling, chiming and jingling bells of every shape and size.

Even the animals were adorned. Collars and harnesses dripped with tiny silver ornaments shaped like little stars.

Only one building stood out from the chaotic blizzard of festivity — the inn. Set off to the side of the road, with not even a single candle’s flame glowing in the window, the sturdy two-story building seemed almost deserted. A sign tacked to the front proclaimed that the place was the Cracked Kettle, and that Fyne Spyryts could be had within.

From the center of the village, the women could hear the strains of brightly cheerful music and laughter. By silent consent, they passed up the inn in favor of seeking out the people. It didn’t take long to find them, laughing and dancing joyously in the village square. The entire town appeared to be a part of celebration. Groups of four to six dancers formed a spinning wheel and each wheel turned and spun around the others gaily. Along the edges of the square were vendors from all over the known world, hawking everything from raw wool to fine parchment.

Oh boy, shopping, Xena thought dryly as she and Gabrielle passed several older women as they roamed the merchant’s row. Betcha I’m gonna have to dig out the dinars later.

"Pardon me, but, what are you doing?" Gabrielle asked a young man who stepped out of one circle of dancers to catch his breath.

"Why, we’re celebrating, of course," the teenager replied, blinking in surprise. "You’re free to join us."

"Celebrating what?" Xena asked. There were so many different decorations in the village, she couldn’t tell if they were about ready to sacrifice a twin headed goat to Odin or sing paeans to Hestia.

"The twelve days of Christmas!" the villager replied promptly, smiling brightly. "There’s only three days left."

"Until?" Gabrielle drawled the word slowly, smiling prettily.

Cocking his head to the side, the man patiently said, "Why until Santa Claus comes and brings us snow. There must be snow for the kids to play in or it will not be winter."

Xena’s eyebrows shot up and she quickly asked, "Is Santa Claus some new god or something?

The young man’s gaze slipped down the warrior’s body and landed on her chakram with an almost audible thump. Swallowing heavily, he said, "Oh no, no, no. Santa’s not a god. He’s just a, guy, who, um, you know, comes once a year and dumps a bunch of snow on us. Sometimes, he um, even, brings neat things to the kids. Toys, clothes and the like."

"How nice of him," Xena remarked drolly. "I suppose he does all this for a modest fee?"

"I, um, he’s never charged anything that I know of," the youth said helplessly. Just then, a young woman’s voice called out.

"Fidello, come dancing!"

Gabrielle caught sight of a curly haired, apple-cheeked girl who had both hands on her hips and one foot tapping along with the beat of the music.

"Be right there, Elda, my sweet," he called back. Nodding politely at Xena and Gabrielle, Fidello turned and jumped into the circles of dancers, executing a neat twist and slide maneuver.

"Hey, that was pretty good. I should see if I could use that sometime. Might work well for a disemboweling motion," Xena muttered softly. Gabrielle only rolled her eyes. The warrior nodded to herself. "Jump, then the twist, followed by a long slash and slide, yeah, that’d work," she murmured thoughtfully.

"Why don’t we go see about stabling and a room? I’m a little bit hungry and I bet Argo’d really like to get out of the cold," Gabrielle suggested, taking one of the warrior’s hands and tugging her away from the town square.

Still working out the new move in her head, Xena calmly allowed herself to be led back to the inn.

After Argo was seen to, the women settled inside the Kettle’s dim, chilly taproom, waiting for service. Xena actually allowed a full quarter candlemark to pass before searching out the innkeeper.

No one was behind the counter, so she slipped under the bar and headed for a doorway outlined in the pale glow of lamplight. The warrior stopped just outside of the door and listened. From inside, she could hear the rhythmic sounds of dough being kneaded.

"This must be where the owner’s hiding out," she muttered to herself, and pushed in the door.

Warmth and light spilled out of the room. Xena stood in the doorway and observed the interior. Standing in the room, staring morosely at a table full of rising bread dough, was a thin, pale woman whose dark circles had dark circles. The warrior cleared her throat noisily.

"Excuse me, but we’d like —"

She was rudely cut off. "Sorry, no vacancy, no ale and no food today," the woman said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Taken aback, Xena frowned. "Your common room is bare, your stable is empty and you’ve a table full of food. Don’t turn me away before I can show you the color of my money."

The woman shrugged listlessly. "I’m the owner of this place and I say there’s no room at the inn. Now get out!" The first real emotion the warrior had seen from the innkeeper erupted with extreme vengeance in her final statement.

"Wait just a mark here lady," Xena said, stepping into the room. "I don’t want to argue, but we’re paying customers, not some drifters come to wreck your taproom. We’ve got good dinars to trade for a room, stabling and meals." The warrior’s voice was soft and even, yet there was an underlying edge that made the innkeeper look up and meet Xena’s gaze.

Pale, colorless eyes met cerulean blue. "I said, there’s no vacancy. I don’t do holidays. There’s nothing here to deck the halls, and no place for you to do it either. This is my time, warrior. Now please, go."

Time for a strategic retreat, warrior, before you get angry too. Seeing no other alternative, Xena turned and stomped out of the kitchen. "C’mon Gabrielle. We’ll have to find our shelter elsewhere. The inn’s closed for self pity."

"Do you want me to see if I can do something?" Gabrielle asked softly as she stood. "See if I can’t sweeten the deal?" And I really don’t feel like going back out into that cold, either.

Xena shrugged indifferently. Taking the bait again, love. You know I hate the sensitive stuff. "Dunno. She’s pretty much all gloom, doom, and leave me to my little room. I’m not sure that soft and fluffy’s going to make her any more likely to let us stay, love. I’m sure one of the villagers would be more than happy to let us sleep in their barn."

Gabrielle looked at Xena, turned a longing eye to the stairs that led up to the second floor and then looked back at her lover. "Give me a shot at least, hmm, Xe? I’d really like that bed." All right, I’ll do the sensitive thing, honey. The bard’s eyes sparkled merrily.

"Whatever you want, love." Xena gestured toward the kitchen. Thanks, love. I owe you one. "She’s in there. Waify sort with colorless eyes. Can’t miss her. I’m just going to sit here, and brood." Fitting actions to words, Xena slid back into the chair, set her feet on the table and crossed her legs. Adopting an appropriately morose expression, the warrior folded her hands behind her head and settled in to wait.

Gabrielle chuckled, ruffled her lover’s hair and headed for the kitchen. The door was still slightly ajar, so she knocked on the frame, catching the attention of the woman inside.

"Go away. No vacancy," came the sullen, toneless response.

"That’s what you told my partner," Gabrielle said as she walked into the room. "But I really wanted to talk to you." She favored the woman with a sunny smile. "You see, it’s really cold out there, and we’ve been traveling for quite some time. We’d really like to stay here, please?"

The woman silently eyed the bard as she spoke. The day candle burned for a long while before the woman said, "I don’t want anybody around right now. It’s a bad time for me."

A puzzled look crossed Gabrielle’s face. "Really? I’d think with the festival..." Here fishy, fishy, fishy. Take the nice bait now, please.

"I don’t do the festival," the woman barked, her voice taking on shades of feelings that had been lacking before. She shuddered involuntarily. "My grandma got run over by a reindeer at one of these crazy festivals."

"Gee, that’s kind of a drag," Gabrielle admitted. "How long ago was it?"

"Ten winters ago," the woman replied acidly. "I’ve mourned her for ten long winters and I’ll do it for ten more if I feel like it. Now please, just leave."

Oh gods, not the dreaded ten winters curse. Oy, Gabrielle. Time to whip out some bardic magic. The bard whipped out her super-duper, extra friendly, bursting with mega-watts, dimply smile. The one that endeared her to children and goddesses of love and had the power to make even the evilest of warlords turn into puddles of mush. "Well, you know," she turned up the wattage, "maybe it’s time for you to let the past be the past. Go with the flow, and get into the now of things. I mean, it is a holiday celebration out there. Lots of people who look like they have plenty of money to spend on good food, good drink..." the bard let her voice fall into a cadence, lulling the woman with her words.

The innkeeper drew in a single, shuddering breath. Gabrielle stepped closer to her, reached her hand out and laid it on the woman’s shoulder. "It really is okay to let it go. I’m sure she would understand," she whispered.

"Gramma!" the innkeeper wailed sadly, collapsing in the bard’s arms. Tears quickly soaked the fabric of Gabrielle’s tunic as the woman sobbed. "Why’d you have to go hunting on Christmas eve, grammy, why? Santa needs all his reindeer," the woman whispered brokenly.

Not knowing anything else to do, Gabrielle just held the woman and let her cry.


That they were allowed to stay at the inn was a given. The fact that their stay was free was a bonus that both women were only too happy to accept. As flush as they were with cash now, each knew that somewhere along the road, they would need those extra dinars.

Added to their bounty was all the oven fresh, dripping with seasoned olive oil bread that they could stomach, as well as warm baths and the promise of a hearty stew for supper. All of this was pressed upon them by an overly grateful, somewhat embarrassed innkeeper named Hilda.

The woman had cried for nearly a candlemark, but when she was finished, she had stood, wiped her face and solemnly thanked the bard for her forbearance. Gabrielle had only smiled and offered the innkeeper a gentle hug.

In the morning, Xena and Gabrielle found the innkeeper buried up to her knees in piles and piles of ancient holiday decorations.

"So this is what you do for the holidays around here?" Xena asked sardonically as she helped Hilda scoop up a pile of garland and dump it onto an empty table.

"Yes, of course. The bright decorations draw the attention of Santa’s favorite elves," Hilda explained patiently. "Then they send the snow and keep track of which children are good and which ones are bad. The bad children get stones in their stockings while the good children get toys and new clothes and sometimes, coal for their fires."

"That’s similar to what we heard yesterday," Xena said as she sat down at another table.

"Yes, we also heard that there was a special Christmas festival happening right here, right now, and that there were just three days left," Gabrielle added as she gathered a handful of decorations and began untangling them.

Hilda smiled sadly. "The snow must be pretty thick out there, then. I’m sorry I was so bestial to you, yesterday."

"Snow? There’s no snow out there," Xena said bluntly. "Is there supposed to be?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Her butt kicking alarm went off and she got ready to put on the warrior princess attitude.

"No snow? But, there’s always snow!" Hilda jumped up and ran to the door, throwing it open. Outside was clear and very cold, but not one flake of snow drifted inside. "Oh, this is bad. This is very bad. The children will be so sad if there isn’t a white Christmas."

The rapid fire popping of knuckles cracking filled the common room. "So, I take it that this is an unusual situation?" Xena asked, as she stood, drew her sword and gave it a practice twirl. There was a gleeful, feral grin spreading on the warrior’s face as she worked the blade around her in flashing, metallic arcs.

Hilda, mesmerized, only nodded.

"Well then, I do believe I hear that shouting and screaming you were missing yesterday, Gabrielle." The women exchanged gazes — Xena’s anticipatory and Gabrielle’s amused. "Shall we?" The warrior indicated the door.

"We shall," Gabrielle replied, taking up her staff. "Keep decorating, Hilda. We’ll look into the missing snow."

"Okay," Hilda agreed as the two women stalked out into the daylight. "Who’d steal our snow?" the innkeeper wondered as she shut the door.

In another realm, parallel to Xena’s Ancient Greece, but not quite a part of it.

"Mm, I just love fresh snow cones, don’t you, Cerby?" Ares said as he took a big bite of a brightly colored pile of flavored ice. Cerebus, his favorite dog, only whined happily as he chomped his way through a monstrous bowl of the stuff. "Yeah, the humans’ll never miss this stuff. Who needs a buncha snow anyway?"

Cerebus growled softly.

"Of course, we do!" the god laughed. "Snow cones, slushies, and snowball fights are just a few of my favorite things!"

"Rah-roo!" one of Cerebus’ heads barked in agreement.

"Of course, I also enjoy a good disemboweling, beheading and who doesn’t love to watch the Romans crucify people? Not me, that’s for sure!" Ares threw back his head and laughed uproariously.

Back in Greece.

Xena and Gabrielle stood outside of the temple doors. Gabrielle looked up at her lover and smirked impishly. "Guess I’ll get the chance to ask sooner rather than later," she said as she pushed open the door to Aphrodite’s abode.

"You don’t have to," Xena protested softly as they entered.

"Of course I do, Xe. I promised and a promise is a promise," the bard replied tartly.

Inside, the small, but lavishly appointed temple reeked of expensive incense. Xena coughed at the overpowering smell, but did not say anything.

"Hello? Aphrodite? Can we talk?" Gabrielle called out softly.

In a glimmering shimmer of sparkling motes of light, the beautiful goddess appeared. "Gabs! By myself honey, it’s been too long. Don’t you look so deliciously winterlicious in that coat." The goddess and the bard embraced warmly.

Xena coughed again. You know, I love ‘Dite, I really do, but sometimes she’s just a little too friendly for me. Especially when it comes to my bard!

"Oh and hey, it’s tall, dark and deadly. Xena, you’re looking marvelously murderous today," said Aphrodite as she looked over the warrior’s leather and fur outfit. "Near barbaric, in fact." She considered the warrior’s appearance for a long moment. "You know, I think that I might like it, but really, my favorite is that lovely little two piece number you got in Jappa. Any chance you could model it for me?" The blonde goddess batted her eyelashes prettily.

"It’s ashes, Aphrodite. I was cremated in it," Xena replied evenly.

Aphrodite clapped her hands to her mouth. "Oh, that’s right. I forgot. How silly of me. Well then, now that the pleasantries are done, what’d you bring me from Jappa?" She looked at the women expectantly. "Come on, I know you brought me something, so I’ll be good and close my eyes — I promise I won’t peek..." she closed her eyes almost all the way, "too much, at least."

Gabrielle’s laughter filled the temple. "Yes, ‘Dite, I found something for you." The bard rummaged around in her satchel for a moment and then withdrew a single round cake of a dark material. Reverently, the bard handed it to the goddess.

Aphrodite’s eyes snapped open. Inquisitively, she looked at the cake, which was pressed into a palm-sized circle and embossed with a strange, curving design. It was slightly flaky and very aromatic. The blonde goddess brought it up to her nose and inhaled. "My, that smells divine, Gabs. What is it? Soap?"

"Tea, Aphrodite. That is one full cake of Golden Dragon Tears. I’m told it’s a delicacy," the bard said. She did not mention the fact that she had taken it from the body of one very, very dead ronin. Just the thought of him sent chills of remembered anger over her. It’s over, Gabrielle. She’s not dead and he is, and that’s all that you have to worry about.

"It’s a lovely gift and I shall enjoy it always," the goddess promised. "Now, what brings you two here?" Aphrodite meandered around her temple, perusing her offerings absently.

"There’s no snow," Xena said succinctly as she rubbed watering eyes. What the hell do you call this mishmash of odiferous odors? Essence of temple? Bah, more like stench of Hades!

"Well, bully for you," the goddess said. "I’m guessing the roads are mondo easy right now."

"That may be," Xena said, "but this town relies on its yearly snowfall to mark the passage of one of their holidays."

"Christmas, I know," the goddess said, nodding quickly, making her curls bounce prettily. "It’s always so much of a blast. On the twelfth day of Christmas, there’s toys and dancing and feasting and an ice sculpture contest... I always enjoy this place. It’s almost like going home for the holidays."

Gabrielle smiled warmly. "Well, it hasn’t snowed around here for four weeks, ‘Dite. Do you have any idea why?"

"No, I don’t think so," Aphrodite replied absently as she fingered a bunch of dried flowers.

"Is there anyone you can ask?" Gabrielle suggested.

The goddess laughed. "You mean like Santa? What should I do, hop a wave to the North Pole and knock three times on the door to his workshop and say something like, ‘Heya Santa baby, can you like, make it snow?"

Xena rolled her eyes. "No, ‘Dite. We’d just like a little hint — a direction to go. Are you sure you don’t know who might have taken the snow?"

"Well, I..." the goddess chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. "Hmm. No, it couldn’t be. He should have gotten his fill by now..."

"Who should have?" Xena asked darkly.

Aphrodite made a moue. "I think you can guess. He’s tall, dark and deadly — kind of like you, only more into the leather."

Xena rolled her eyes. "You two chit chat. I need to go find me a god and kick his ass."

"Should I watch?" Gabrielle asked, her eyes sparkling merrily.

"Nah, you’ve seen me do it so many times I’m sure that you could call out the moves blindfolded," Xena said, stepping up to give her lover a hug and a brief, but fierce kiss. "I’m not planning anything new this time, he seems to fall for the same double flip and strike trick every time, anyway."

"Okay, but hurry back. That bazaar out there is just calling my name. I need to shop, Xe," Gabrielle said, shaking a finger at the warrior. "I’m almost out of ink."

Xena groaned.

Aphrodite perked. "Shopping? Like, for presents? For me?"

"For all of those that I care about," Gabrielle assured the goddess. "And maybe for some decorations. I’m not so sure that Hilda’s are going to make it in time." The bard briefly described the tangled mess of things that the innkeeper had strewn about her common room.

"Bells," the goddess said. "You should buy her some jingle bells. Jingle bells rock."

"Of course. We’ll have plenty of bells — with all the bells that are in the village, you’ll be able to hear the carol of the bells for miles."

"Oo, I wonder if I can ring them bells?" Aphrodite mused impishly, stroking her chin with her thumb and forefinger.


Xena stepped out of Aphrodite’s temple and jogged into the woods. When she felt that she was far enough from the village, she stopped, caught her breath and called out, "All right you worthless lightening slinger, get your butt out here or I’ll have your chestnuts roasting on an open fire!" The warrior projected her voice both inward and outward, visualizing her old nemesis as she shouted.

It took only moments for him to respond. Wildlife scattered as a brilliant flash of light filled the forest glade. Reality bent, tearing open a hole large enough for Ares to appear directly in front of Xena.

"You rang, my sweetness?" he murmured sexily, oozing up to the warrior. Now here is someone I’d gladly trade all of my snow cones for, forever.

Xena eyed the god. His face and chest were glistening wetly with a pinkish substance. "No, I called, you came. Now, clean yourself up and listen good. You’re hogging the snow. Give it up or I’ll teach you how to sing in a whole new octave," Xena said, her eyes flashing darkly.

Ares smiled gamely, licked his lips sensuously and said, "Xena, Xena, Xena, I just love it when you talk dirty to me."

"I don’t have time to play around, Ares. This town needs the snow — go fetch yours elsewhere," Xena ground out from between her teeth.

"Or? Come on Xena, hit me with your best shot," the god taunted.

"Ares..." Xena growled. Then, the warrior moved. Faster than the wind, she stepped into Ares’ personal space and shoved her sword up under his chin. "I said, I don’t have time for this." Two gazes locked as a battle of wills ensued.

A heartbeat later, Ares looked away. "Damn it, Xena," he growled and his body flickered as he used his powers to move away from her. "You know what that does to me."

Xena smirked. "Yes," she purred, "I do. Do I look like I care?"

The god cupped his chin thoughtfully, appraising the warrior. "Come with me, Xena and I’ll go anywhere you tell me to," he offered sincerely. "And then this place can have all the snow it wants."

Once again, Xena stepped toward the god, menace oozing from her posture. "Ares," she snarled, lowering the blade to belt level. "I think we’ve had this discussion before..."

The saturnine god blanched and began to back away. "Now, wait a minute here, Xena. Let’s talk about this..."

The warrior’s sword inched closer to the god’s belt. Ares swallowed convulsively. Yeah, he could probably fight her. He might even beat her, but one thing for sure was the fact that by the time he was done throwing his favorite warrior around, she would be extremely pissed off and every last drop of his double cherry-pineapple-mocha snow cone would be melted. Maybe I should just pretend to have mercy on this backwater little place? And then, when they least expected it, bam! Slide in and steal all their excess snow. Yeah, that’s it. I’ll just let her have some now, and take it all back when she’s gone...

"Meanie! There he is, get him!" Tiny voices echoed through the forest. Suddenly, the god was pelted by dozens of large, wet globs of thick, viscous mud. Stunned by the surprise attack, Ares could only stand there while the wet earth dribbled from his body.

"Take that, you snow hogging meanie!" One of the voices called, pegging Ares in the face with a particularly large clump of mud.

"Hey!" Ares said, flashing from one side of Xena to the other. "Stop that this instant!" He got hit again. "Do you have any clue who I am, you crazy little bastards?" Sparks fizzled from his clenched fist.

Tittering laughter echoed all around him. More mudballs peppered the air, liberally coating the god.

Roaring with anger, Ares threw lightening bolts all around him, flattening several trees and scorching a bush or two. Conveniently, he avoided hitting Xena. Not even a good temper tantrum was worth blackening her hide. Angry bard was not something that even the god of war was keen to handle today.

"You know, if it was snowing, it’d be snow they were hitting you with, not mud," Xena pointed out solemnly, though a smile tried to fight its way onto her face.

Ares rolled his eyes. "No, it’s mine, all mi-glurk!" A well timed mudball caught the god with his mouth wide open. Spitting and coughing, he snapped his fingers twice. "Fine! You win. Let it snow! I won’t stop it anymore."

"Yay!" tiny voices cheered. Suddenly, the forest was full of little people running, jumping, laughing and dancing.

Xena’s eyes bugged out at the sight of the elves. Each was dressed in a green tunic, green hose and green cap. Tiny, curly-toed shoes decorated their feet and each of the little people carried an instrument. Even the smallest of them carried tiny drums.

Ares growled at the elves. Fastening his eyes on one of them, he stepped toward it.

"Hey, you — little drummer boy — yeah, you. Move, kid, before I turn your sticks into charcoal." The god of war glared at the elven child until he burst into tears and ran to hide behind the trees. Ares smirked. "Yep, still the biggest bully on the block."

"Oh yeah, that’s you, Ares. Notorious. Get outta here before I sic my girlfriend on you." Xena sheathed her sword and began cleaning her nails with her breast dagger.

Ares sighed. "If you could just see your way clear of that whole girlfriend thing and come back to me, Xena. I swear, I’d be so good to you..."

The warrior sighed. "Not a chance, Ares. I’m done with that life, too many times over now." She looked into Ares’ eyes and smiled wryly. "Go home, enjoy what’s left of your snow and cuddle up with Cerebus," Xena said without rancor.

"After I bathe," he said, wrinkling his nose at the mud that still liberally stained his clothes. In a flash, he was gone, leaving a large pile of mud behind.

"Well, that was easy. Thanks for the help guys," the warrior said, addressing the frolicking elves. "I could have handled him, but it was nice not to have to get all sweaty."

"Our pleasure," one of the elves piped up shyly.

"Great fun," said another.

"Oh yes, wonderful, wonderful. Now there will be snow for the children," chimed in a third.

Xena smiled as the three elves tumbled and danced around her. "So, who are you guys, anyway?"

"I’m Noel the third," piped one impish little man as he pirouetted on the tip of his toes.

"And I’m Noel the second," said another, doffing his cap and grinning a gap-toothed smile that made the warrior chuckle.

"Which makes me," said a third, slightly taller and much heftier elf, "the first Noel." He executed a deep, back breaking bow.

"We’re the Snow Noels," the three said in unison.

"We make the snow for Christmas," Noel the first said proudly, indicating the other elves who were still celebrating their victory.

"Well," said the third Noel, "at least until his big meanieness came along."

"But it’s okay now, because you helped us make him stop," said the second Noel.

"And now we can do our jobs," added the third Noel. He turned to Xena and said, "We’d like to stay and play, but we have work to do. There’s so much to catch up on, you know."

"But wait... what about Santa Claus?" Xena asked. "I thought he made the snow?"

Noel the third smiled mysteriously. "There is no Santa, warrior. Only the generosity of parents and friends. Santa is everyone."

"Of course," said the warrior numbly as, suddenly, the forest was no longer filled with elves, but with flurries of snow.


Gabrielle and Aphrodite were power shopping. Merchants from far away had come to this little village to peddle their wares and Gabrielle was bound and determined to find something special for Xena.

In the middle of the shopping trip, the two women stumbled upon a garishly dressed young man.

"Hello, ladies. I am Percilious and I am a professional shopper, and I guarantee that no loved one is too difficult for me to please with a gift," the youth declared proudly.

Gabrielle had instantly snagged the man’s arm. "You’re hired. I’ve got to find a gift for an ex warlord with redemption issues and a penchant for resurrection, got any ideas?"

Percilious rubbed his goatee thoughtfully. "Hmm, that’s a toughie, but not impossible." He linked his arms with the bard and the goddess. "Now, shall we raid this bazaar?"

Aphrodite laughed, a marvelous tinkling sound. "I like him already."

They stopped at a booth that was filled with bolts and bolts of exotic fabrics. Aphrodite was instantly entranced by reams of whisper thin silk while Gabrielle was drawn to a heavy emerald brocade. Percilious pranced through the entire booth, holding up one bit of cloth after another.

"Holidays in color — so much more entertaining, don’t you think?" Percillious asked, holding up one vibrantly hued piece of fabric after another. "Green, pink, orange, ah, here we are!" He draped his find over his shoulder and strutted up to the bard. "Isn’t a blue Christmas just my color?"

She laughed and shook her head. "I dunno, Percilious, I kind of liked that purple one," she said, touching the fabric that was a pale echo of her lover’s eyes.

He sighed and let the fabric drop to the table. "Ah well. Another holiday, I suppose. Now, let’s see about your warrior friend, shall we?"

He meandered away from the fabric and over to the weaponsmith.


"A story! Tell us a story, will you Bard Gabrielle?" one of the children in the crowd called out.

Xena had returned and with her came the snow. After telling the bard what had happened, the two lovers had spent an afternoon browsing the wares of the marketplace. Though she had been asked to join them, Aphrodite chose to "catch a white wave" and magically flashed away. Later, several of the town’s children reported seeing an incredible sight — a beautiful woman riding a board down the side of a mountain! No one believed them, of course, but it made for an entertaining story.

Near evening, Gabrielle dragged the warrior to the town square. When the warrior had protested, saying that she was tired, the bard smiled and said, "But Xena, I want to dance with you first."

Unable to resist her lover’s request, she had laughingly jumped into the snow covered circle. So they danced cheek to cheek until the snow liberally coated them.

Now everyone was packed into Hilda’s newly decorated Cracked Kettle Inn. Not one inch of space was bare of a smiling customer. At the very front of the common room, right next to a warmly crackling fire, was Gabrielle, telling story after story.

Gathered in front of the fire were the town’s children, all dressed in their favorite sleepwear as they eagerly listened to the bard’s tales. This was the night before Santa’s fabled visit and all were impatiently waiting, driving everyone wild with their antics. It was the warrior who had suggested that Gabrielle entertain them with stories until their parents were ready to go home.

Gabrielle laughed at the children’s enthusiasm. "In a bit, perhaps. I need to get something to drink. Maybe someone else would like to give it a try?"

"Oh! Me! Me! Me!" one child practically vibrated out of his skin.

"Go for it, Thadeus," Gabrielle said, stepping away from her spot to allow the child to take it.

He began to speak shyly, telling the story of Rudolph, a brave young reindeer whose nose was bitten off by the fearsome monster, Thistlehair the Christmas bear and had to be replaced by a magical, glowing red jewel. Of course, Santa thought this was just wonderful and hired Rudolph to help tow his magical sleigh around the world.

"Now, I didn’t always believe in Santa," Thadeus said softly. "But then, I saw it!"

"What’d you see, Thaddy?"

"I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus," the boy whispered gleefully.

A gasp, followed by much giggling met his statement.

"It was last winter — I woke up ‘cuz I was thirsty and there they were, next to the hearth!" He gazed out at his circle of round-eyed friends.

"What happened?" One little girl asked fearfully.

"Nothing, I crept into the kitchen and got some water and by the time I went back to bed, no one was there," Thad said, shrugging. "But I saw him!"

The children cheered.

The boy then sat down and another child took his place. Nervously, he began to speak.

Gabrielle, snuggled up next to Xena, listened to the second child for a moment and then just shook her head, covering a laugh with a fake cough. "He’ll be better with practice," she commented softly, indicating the child who was stuttering his way through a story. "But young Thad’s got the makings of a good bard in him. I bet that sometime in the future, silver and gold will fill his hat."

"Yes, I suppose a story should have a more auspicious beginning than, ‘It came upon a midnight clear, in a town without any cheer’," Xena said just as softly, then brushed her lips over the bard’s forehead.

"Mmhmm," Gabrielle murmured, tipping her head up so that her lover could kiss her. They stood there, in the shadows, exploring each other’s lips gently. "Nice," the bard said, a little breathlessly. "I love your kisses," she said, which promptly earned her several more.

Gabrielle was called to perform several more stories before the night was over. Because of the heavy snow, Many of the townsfolk decided to stay at the inn, filling it to capacity. Gabrielle and Xena helped the innkeeper hand out all of the extra bedding she had, making the warrior and bard grateful they had plenty of their own in their travel supplies. Even the common room floor was covered in drowsing bodies.

In the very front of the room, lying down by the slowly flickering fire was the boy, Thadeus. He had curled onto his side, facing the flames. A tiny cloak was balled under his head for a pillow and he had pulled his arms inside of the body of his tunic.

"Here you go, Thad," Gabrielle said, kneeling to give the boy a heavy blanket. "Are you here by yourself?" she asked, when she didn’t see anyone near him.

Thad sat up and pushed his arms out through his sleeves, then tucked the blanket around himself. "Uh huh. My mom stayed home tonight with my sister Rana. She’s got the cough and can’t go out for two more weeks."

"Oh, I’m sorry." Gabrielle’s smile flickered into a frown. "Are you okay here? Or do you need someone to walk you home?"

"No, I’m fine. Mom knows I’m here," he assured her with a sleepy smile.

"Okay, if you’re sure. Do you need anything else?" the bard asked.

"No, but... would you tell me a story? One for just me?" He looked so hopeful that the bard couldn’t deny him. Softly, she told him the tale of her first Solstice with Xena.

"So the orphans got the toys they wanted?" he asked dreamily. He was lying on his back, looking up into the blonde bard’s eyes.

"Yep," Gabrielle said, brushing stray hairs from the boy’s face. "And I got this really neat little wooden lamb." The bard’s hands shaped the size of the lamb.

He smiled. "I really want a Rudolph. Trapper Jay makes them out of fur scraps, but because Rana’s sick, my mom can’t afford one." He sighed sadly.

"Well, maybe things will change," the bard said, as a plan germinated in her devious little brain.

The boy began to nod off and Gabrielle moved to stand.

"Is it true?" Thad’s sleepy voice halted the bard.

"Is what true?" she softly asked.

Yawning mightily, the boy mumbled, "That Santa Claus is coming to town."

A gentle smile lit the bard’s face. "Of course it is, Thadeus. Just you wait — it’ll be a nice, silent night and all of the silver bells will have grown still and then, he’ll be here. With a whoosh and twinkle, up on the housetop and down through the chimney he’ll go, leaving..." Gabrielle’s voice trailed off as a soft snore reached her ears. "Plenty of special toys for special boys," she finished with a whisper. Tugging the blankets over the sleeping child, the bard stood and went upstairs to join her lover.


Xena was more than amenable to Gabrielle’s little plan. The very next day, several of their hard earned dinars found their way into the pockets of many of the town’s merchants. Not even the sudden advent of a storm had shut down the busy marketplace. The streets were swept clean of snow and heavy canvas tarps were hung from booth to booth, creating a covered walkway for shoppers to stroll under and still remain dry.

At even intervals, heavy tripod pits put out spheres of warmth. Next to these fires were vendors selling everything from spiced cider to meat pies.

For most of the rest of the day, the two lovers wandered the streets of the little village, which they had learned was named Hercatea. The Hercateans were a bright, friendly people. The snow which had been absent for so long now flew in thick flurries, but that did not keep them from celebrating their holiday. At each of the houses, the two women stopped and dropped off a small package, saying only that the gifts came from Santa Claus.

When pressed for an explanation, Xena smiled mysteriously and said, "I helped him out with a little problem." While she was speaking, Gabrielle would scoop up a ball of snow and toss it back and forth in her hands. That was all it took for the happy villagers to accept their story.

All day, the town square was transformed from a dance circle to a playground filled with strange and wondrous snow-creatures where the children played for candlemarks. Only when their parents called them home for supper did they reluctantly abandon their new snowy wonderland.

That evening, the inn was vacant, except for Xena, Gabrielle and Hilda. The innkeeper was already fast asleep, leaving the lovers to sit by the fire, enjoying its warmth.

"Think she’s sleeping deep enough now?" Gabrielle asked softly.

The warrior cocked her head, listening. With a little chuckle, Xena said, "Yeah. She’s sawing some pretty hard logs in there."

Gabrielle snickered and grabbed her satchel. Out came two good-sized bundles of fabric which she placed on the mantle above the fire. In the dim light the fabric glittered. Heavy silk brocade in hues chosen to enhance rather than detract from Hilda’s pale features had been the bard’s choice of a gift to thank the innkeeper for her hospitality.

"I hope she likes them," the bard said, touching the fabric one last time before stepping away from the hearth.

Xena slipped up behind her and wrapped her arms around the bard’s waist. "I think she will. If not, she can always use them for rags."

"Xe!" Gabrielle elbowed the warrior. "Those are heavy brocade silks, not washrags."

"Then she will surely love them, my bard," Xena said, trying hard to keep from laughing.

"Ooo, I’m gonna get you..."

"Yes? You got me something?" Xena purred into Gabrielle’s ear as she slid her hands up to cover her breasts.

"Uh, never mind. I think we have a bed somewhere around here, right?" The bard’s head lolled to the side as the warrior began to nibble gently on her very, very sensitive ears.

"Oh, I think so..." the warrior murmured.

"Find it, now," Gabrielle ordered, as she spun around and kissed the warrior hard on the mouth.

"Right away, ma’am," Xena said, saluting saucily as she ran up the stairs to their room.

"Gods I love her," Gabrielle said to no one in particular.


The next day was Christmas day and it dawned clear. The town came alive with children who were delighted by the miracle of a gift from the real Santa Claus.

Xena had left Gabrielle to sleep in, with a special note attached to the bard’s gear. She had plans for later, but for now, she wandered Hercatea and enjoyed the laughter of the children.

"And the big bad monster comes up and bites his nose off! Run, Rudolph, run!" Xena recognized the voice of Thad, the junior bard. From around a pile of snow came the little boy, clutching a comically overstuffed reindeer tightly. A bright red glass stone demarked the toy’s special nose while tiny bells tinkled on the animal’s harness.

In his other hand was an even bigger stuffed bear. Fake claws that had been painted a lurid red matched the wide open mouth that was filled with several fierce looking teeth. Xena smiled indulgently. No bear that she had ever seen had appeared so monstrous, but the story of Rudolph required a beast to eat the poor animal’s nose, so the villagers had decided that it was a giant bear.

Setting his toys on a stretch of snow, Thad knelt and started making the bear chase the reindeer. The boy’s normally high pitched voice changed dramatically as he took on the monster’s persona. "I’m gonna eat you up, Rudolph the red nosed reindeer!" he growled deeply.

"No! No! No! Don’t eat me up, I’m Santa’s friend!" The boy’s voice had switched into yet another tone, and Xena had to laugh, thinking that this is what Gabrielle must’ve been like at this age.

"Yeah, you tell him, Rudy," Xena said softly, watching the boy run through the play area with his toys.


"Okay, over the river and through the woods, around the stump and to the — whoa! Cave, very, private cave. Good call, Xena, good call," the bard said, smiling warmly as she ducked inside of the cave’s entrance. A single icicle hung from the ceiling, slowly melting in the warmth generated by a merrily flickering fire.

As if Christmas day signaled some unseen gatekeeper to leave his post, Hilda’s inn had become so busy, that neither Xena nor Gabrielle had time to think, much less spend time with each other. In short order, the town was overrun with people. Relatives from outlying farms, travelers from nearby towns and villages as well as a group of priests on their way to Athens had all but pushed the two women out of the overflowing inn.

So Xena had arranged for a little getaway for the two of them — a true vacation. Argo would remain boarded at the Kettle’s stables while the women had some alone time.

The note Xena had left earlier that day contained directions, which the bard had followed to this point. On the edge of the forest between the village and the mountains, was a small river. It was here that Xena had found the cave. Candlemarks of work had made it a nice little home away from home.

Inside, candles lit the darkness and a small but warm fire pushed back the cold. As soon as the bard cleared the entryway, Xena pushed a large stone over the opening, blocking them from view without cutting off their air.

"There," she said, brushing her hands off. "Privacy, security and you. I could not ask for more."

"How about a present?" Gabrielle teased, drawing a cloth wrapped bundle from her satchel.

"Oo, I like presents," Xena drawled, accepting the gift with a smile. They moved over to the fire where the warrior had set up a thick pile of furs and easily settled down, Gabrielle leaning against Xena.

"So open it," Gabrielle prodded impatiently.

"I’m getting there," Xena said as she carefully untied the twine that held the wrapping in place. With two deft twists, the string came free and drifted onto the bard, who tossed it aside. Inside of the cloth was a miniature portrait of the warrior’s daughter, Eve. Xena gasped. "Where’d you find this?"

A grin crept over Gabrielle’s face. "Nope," she said.

Perplexed, Xena repeated, "Nope?"

"Not gonna tell ya. Just enjoy it." I owe you one, Percilious. The power shopper had, indeed, lived up to his word. Tucked away in the back of a curio seller from India’s booth was this little portrait of the woman that Gabrielle had grown to think of as her own child. Painted by a deft hand, the bard had know that this was the perfect gift for her lover.

"I will, I do. Gods, I love you, Gabrielle," Xena said, drawing the bard into her arms for a long, sweet kiss.

"My turn," Xena said when they parted.

"Oh Xe, you didn’t have to," Gabrielle said as the warrior handed her a package wrapped in brightly colored paper. "All I want for Christmas is you." This earned her another lengthy kiss. "Pretty paper," the bard commented moments later. "Almost too pretty. But, I’m just too curious." With gleeful abandon, she ripped into the package, catching her breath at the sight of an ebony writing box. "This is gorgeous," she whispered, turning the box over in her hands. Inlaid with spiral patterns of mother of pearl, the box was smaller than a travel desk but large enough to house the tools of a bard’s trade.

"Open it," Xena suggested softly.

The bard slowly lifted the hasp and opened the box. Inside were inks, pens and nibs, all ready for use. Tucked into little pockets in the lid were a stone for mixing the ink powers on and a tiny knife for trimming feather nibs. "I love it honey," Gabrielle said, turning her head up for another kiss.

"I thought you might," Xena said, smiling gently.

They snuggled close and Gabrielle sighed contentedly. "Well, another week’s work well done, I’d say. Everything turned out all right in the end. Santa visited the town, the children got their winter wonderland and we have this nice, cozy fire to share. Can’t really complain about that."

"Happy Holidays, Gabrielle," Xena said, kissing the bard’s temple.

"Happy Holidays, Xena. Now, what’s for dinner? I’m starving!"


All I Want for Christmas is You — Contest # 01

Blue Christmas — Contest # 02

Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire — Contest #03

Deck the Halls — Contest # 04

Do You Hear What I Hear — Contest # 05

The First Noel — Contest # 06

Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer — Contest # 07

Home for the Holidays — Contest # 08

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus — Contest # 09

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear — Contest # 10

Jingle Bells — Contest # 11

Jingle Bell Rock — Contest # 12

Let it Snow — Contest # 13

Little Drummer Boy — Contest # 14

Over the River and Through the Woods — Contest # 15

Pretty Paper — Contest # 16

Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer — Contest # 17

Run, Rudolph, Run — Contest # 18

Santa Claus is Coming to Town — Contest # 19

Silent Night — Contest # 20

Silver Bells — Contest # 21

The Twelve Days of Christmas — Contest # 22

Up on the Housetop — Contest # 23

White Christmas — Contest # 24

Winter Wonderland — Contest # 25


Again — Janet Jackson

Alive — Pearl Jam

All the Way — Earth, Wind & Fire

Alone — Heart

Always — Saliva

Amused — Grapes of Wrath

Anger — Marvin Gaye

Anything — Seven Mary Three

Aphrodite - Ash

Argue — Matchbox20

Around the World — Red Hot Chili Peppers

Attitude — Kinks

Bad — U2

Bare — Heather Nova

Beautiful — Joydrop

Beginnings — Chicago

Believe (2) — Cher

Believe — Disturbed

Bent — Matchbox20

Between — Mercedes Lackey

Blanket — Imogen Heap

Bother — Stone Sour

Bounce — System of a Down

Bound and Determined — Marshall Tucker Band

Breathless — The Corrs

Bully — 7 Seconds

Carol of the Bells — Traditional

Celebration — Kool & the Gang

Chance — R.E.M.

Change — Melissa Etheridge

Cheek to Cheek — Fred Astaire

Circles — The Who

Closer — Nine Inch Nails

Clue - Frente

Cold — Annie Lennox

Come Dancing — The Kinks

Cracking — Suzanne Vega

Crazy — Patsy Cline

Crucify — Tori Amos

Cry — Angie Aparo

Curse — Recoil

Dance With You — Live

Dancing — Wang Chung

Dare — Willa Ford

Darkness — Disturbed

Daylight - Coldplay

Deadly — Flesh-N-Bone

Deal — Grateful Dead

Divine — Korn

Don’t Turn Me Away — Bryan Adams

Do Something — Macy Gray

Do They Know its Christmas — Band Aid

Down — Stone Temple Pilots

Dream — The Everly Brothers

Dress — Treble Charger

Drifted - Symphorce

Easy — Lionel Richie

Echo - Incubus

Elsewhere — Sarah McLachlan

Emotion — The Bee Gees

Empty — Janet Jackson

Entranced - Discarnate

Essence — Lucinda Williams

Evening — Pat Benetar

Everything — Stereofuse

Expression — Salt N Peppa

Familiar — Incubus

Fee — Phish

Feelings — Morris Albert

Fingertips — They Might Be Giants

Fire — Pointer Sisters

Free — Alana Davis

Fresh — Kool & the Gang

Funny — 3LW

Giving — Collective Soul

God — Tori Amos

Go — Pat Benetar

Go Ahead — Tina Turner

Go Away — Crux Shadows

Goddess — An Pierle

Goddess of Love — OMD

Go with the Flow — Queens of the Stone Age

Have Mercy — The Judds

Hair — The Cast of the musical, "Hair"

Happy Holidays — Bing Crosby

He — The Righteous Brothers

Heartbeat — Don Johnson

Heavy — Collective Soul

Hello — Lionel Richie

He Said — Edie Brickell & the New Bohemians

Hiding Out — Pete Townshend

Hit Me With Your Best Shot — Pat Benetar

Holiday — Madonna

Honey — Mariah Carey & Puff Daddy

Hope — Sublime

Hungry — Eric Clapton

Hurt — Nine Inch Nails

Icicle — Tori Amos

I Could not Ask for More — Edwin McCain

I’ll Be — Edwin McCain

I Got You Babe — Sonny & Cher

I Guess — Crystal Lewis

Illusions — Destiny’s Child

I Love You — Heart

I’m Here - Kai

Impossible — Nat King Cole

I Need — Meredith Brooks

Insensitive — Jann Arden

Inside — Peter, Paul & Mary

In Particular — Blonde Redhead

In the Crowd - Jam

In the End — Linkin Park

Into the Woods — From the Musical, Into the Woods

I Owe You One — Aaron Neville

I Swear — All 4 One

I Try — Macy Gray

It’s Over — Run D.M.C

Joking — Indigo Girls

Jump — Van Halen

Kind of a Drag — The Buckinghams

Kiss — Prince

Kiss (2) — The Lovemongers

Knock Three Times — Tony Orlando & Dawn

Lamplight — The Bee Gees

Laugh — The Monkees

Laughing — Goo Goo Dolls

Laughter — Des’ree

Leather — Tori Amos

Leave — Matchbox20

Let the Past be the Past — 25 Ta Life

Long Ago — Mariah Carey

Longer — Dan Fogelberg

Losing My Religion — R.E.M.

Lover — Ella Fitzgerald

Lovers — Babyface

Magic — Olivia Newton John

Maybe — Janis Joplin

Mesmerized — Celtic Frost

Miracle — Whitney Houston

Missing - Evanescence

Mistress — Disturbed

Money — Pink Floyd

Motion — Front 242

Mouth — Bush

Move — Zuba

Move Away — Culture Club

Music — Madonna

My Favorite Things — Julie Andrews

My Time — Warrior Soul

My Turn - Madcap

Need — Leslie Fish/Mercedes Lackey

Needs — Collective Soul

Never — Heart

No One — Marc Anthony

No Room at the Inn — Anne Murray

Notorious — Duran Duran

Now — Days of the New

Now (2) — The Carpenters

One — Metallica

On the Edge of the Forest — Meg Davis

Open — Meg Davis/Mercedes Lacky

Outside - Staind

Parallel — Bad Religion

Pardon Me — Incubus

Patches — B.B. King

Patience — Guns N Roses

People — Barbra Streisand

Playground — XTC

Please — Elton John

Pleasure - Nightfall

Pockets — The Beautiful South

Promise — Violent Femmes

Promised — The Walkabouts

Puzzled — Nasty Savage

Rapid Fire — Judas Priest

Redemption — Anouk

Resist — Melissa Etheridge

Responsible — Rainbirds

Resurrection — Misfits

Retreat — Luscious Jackson

Right Here, Right Now — Jesus Jones

Ring Them Bells — Heart

Rise — Disturbed

Sacrifice — Elton John

Santa Baby — Madonna

Screaming — IQ

Searching — Inxs

Security — Vanessa Williams

Self Pity — Lucifer

Sensitive — O-Town

Shelter — Greenwheel

Shimmer - Fuel

Shut the Door - Fugazi

Silently — Caught in the Act

Silver and Gold — Burl Ives

Sincerely — The Moonglows

Sing — Carpenters

Sister — Creed

Situation - Godsmack

Sleep — Imogen Heap

Slide — Goo Goo Dolls

Smile — Eric Clapton

Softly — Lone Star

Something — George Harrison

Somewhere Along the Road — Cathie Ryan

Soon — Tanya Tucker

Sparks - Coldplay

Special - Garbage

Spinning Wheel — Blood, Sweat & Tears

Stand — R.E.M

Stand (2) - Jewel

Stay — Shakespeare’s Sister

Stop — Meredith Brooks

Storm — Blackmore’s Night

Suddenly — Olivia Newton John & Cliff Richard

Sunny — Cher

Surprise — Stereophonics

Surprise (2) — Luscious Jackson

Sweetness — Skindive

Talk Dirty to Me — Poison

Talk to Me — Scandal

Tangled — Maroon 5

Tell Me A Story — Hillary Duff & Lil’ Romeo

The Beat — Elvis Costello

The Gift — Annie Lennox

The Temple — From the musical, Jesus Christ Superstar

The Trees — Rush

The Twist — Chubby Checker

The Warrior — Scandal

Thick — Tonic

Thistlehair the Christmas Bear — Alabama

Three Days — Jane’s Addiction

Tired — Toby Keith

Together — Connie Francis

Toys — XTC

True — Spandau Ballet

Until — Joydrop

Vacation — The Go-Go’s

Vengeance — Carly Simon

Voices — Electric Light Orchestra

Wait — White Lion

Wait a Minute - Ginuwine

Waiting — Chantal Kreviazuk

Walk — Gary Barlow

Walking — Donovan

Want — Dido

Water — Take 5

Whatever — Godsmack

What Happened — The Unseen

When She’s Gone — Hootie & the Blowfish

Whisper — Evanescence

Why — Annie Lennox

Warrior — Meg Davis

Wicked — Korn

Winter — Tori Amos

Without — The Exies

Women — Def Leppard

Wonderland — Angie Aparo

Wreck — Paradise Lost

Yesterday — The Beatles

You — Capercaille

Zero — Smashing Pumpkins


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