What They Dont See
General Disclaimer: You already know they arent mine. Im not doing this for money, only for adoring emails ( email@example.com for those of you who want to start adoring now). I do thank Renaissance et al., the producers and everyone involved for inventing such wonderful women for us to admire, lust after and respect. I also thank LL and the ROC for just being. Theyre a pair of stunning actresses who brought life and love to a couple of worthy characters.
Subtext Disclaimers: Well, it wouldnt be X:WP if there wasnt sexual ambiguity, but as things go along, the sex gets less ambiguous. In fact, it gets decidedly lesbian. I think Aphrodite would, like, approve.
Copyright and Spoilers: This is mine, mine, all mine well, except for all the stuff I disclaimed above. Dont plagiarize me and pay me if you find a way to publish it because its copyrighted and Ill hunt you down. This contains spoilers for "The Convert"
"What kind of warrior kills somebody then has nightmares about it every night?"
Joxers words repeat themselves in my head over and over as I walk the perimeter. Id seen the look Gabrielle had given me, but ignored it. I knew exactly what kind of warrior did that: me. Problem was, no one would believe my answer but her. Shed held me through so many nightmares, mine and her own.
"Xena," her soft voice doesnt surprise me. I knew shed follow once she got her charges resettled for the night. Some things in life you can count on, no matter what. Gabrielle following me for a sensitive chat is one of them.
"Here," I answer, coming up behind her.
She whirls instantly, already in the defensive posture, staff or no staff. We both grin as she read my mind.
"Youre too good a teacher," she shrugs.
We fall in step together, continuing my circuit.
"Are you all right?"
"Of course," I smile it off, but know I dont fool her.
"He didnt mean anything by it," she offers. "He doesnt know..."
In a gesture so habitual I doubted she even notices what she does, she curls her hand around my arm, and her fingertips brush unconsciously over the thin white scar on the outside of my bicep. I feel that touch to my very core. A Persian sword had sliced me there in that frenzied defense of the armory roof. I hadnt even noticed at the time, but later-- a lifetime later-- she had. And shed touched it often with gentle hands or tender lips, as if to remind or reassure herself of everything that wed survived, everything that wed promised. It had always brought me to tears... or climax.
I stop and shake myself loose.
She frowns. "I didnt realize you were still angry."
"Im not angry," I lie casually. "I said my piece."
Her look says she knows Im lying and that shed expected more than that from me. I am amazed at how defiant that makes me. She thinks Im just jealous, that my ego wont stand her interest in someone whos bested me in battle. And she is partially right, but that isnt all.
Part of me is jealous as Hera, but a bigger part is actually mad at Gabrielle, not Najara, and at myself. Her for trusting that nutcase fanatics stupid conversion story and me for being angry that she still-- even after everything-- wants to see the best in everyone she meets. Where would I be, I ask myself, if she didnt? She would never have followed that embittered, uncommunicative ex-warlord out of Poteidaia; she would never have forgiven me for trying to kill her in Amazonia; and she would never have sacrificed her life for mine in that temple. And I? I would never have known what true love felt like.
"Xena," she sighs. "I didnt come out here to start that whole argument over again."
"Then whyd you come?" I hear the sharp edge on my voice.
"I came because... because I miss you."
"Gabrielle, we havent been apart in weeks."
"Weve been apart since Najara reappeared," she counters, her eyes daring me to contradict her.
I, who have stared down gods and warlords, look away first. "Its hard with all these people around," I mutter, lying through my teeth.
She sees right through it. "It never used to be."
"Is sleeping on the other side of camp. And Im sure youre not worried about Najara hearing us." Her hand rises to my cheek. "Youd probably score big warrior points if she did, right?"
"Gabrielle..." That warning tone, low in my throat, used to make men wet themselves. I see her catch the smile before it curls her mouth, but it sparkles in her eyes as she looks up at me through her lashes.
"Xena, youre not going to make me beg, are you?" she whispers, her voice deepening as well.
I have no defense for that voice. It halts me in my tracks every time, loosening my jaw and sending my brain into some limbo, the same limbo where I first kissed her, first heard her say she loved me.
She is against me before I can retreat, and her strong, soft arms twine around my neck, pulling me down.
"Baby," I whisper against her lips and feel her melt and sigh. That sigh is my undoing. Its been too long and she knows me too well. Sexual tension, between us, seldom goes this long without release. I need her now.
This woman owns you, warlord, some deep, hidden voice chuckles, and I try to disentangle myself, try to withdraw gracefully, try to find some reason not to do this, but Gabrielles hands move across my cheek, down my throat, under the shoulder straps of my leathers and Im trembling as much as she is.
"We shouldnt," I argue, even as my fingers find the edges of the sari top and begin to work under it.
"Well make it fast," she grins, stripping my shoulders, laying her mouth against the newly exposed skin.
It is rather hasty, but tender and loving nonetheless. Afterward, we take a moment to lie together, cuddled in the debris of discarded clothes. She teases a fingertip across and around my nipple, watching it stiffen, then relax again.
"I love you," she whispers.
"Still mad at me?"
"Nah . You?"
She smiles. "No."
"It worked then," I comment, giving her a knowing smile and she crinkles her nose at me.
"It always does," she shrugs.
We laugh and climb to our feet, sharing a last kiss before heading back to our crowded camp.