Disclaimer: The characters are the property of Universal/Renaissance Pictures/MCA. I have used many lines of dialogue from the episode "Amphipolis Under Siege," and those remain the property of the original authors. The Alejandro Sanz song is available through iTunes; the English translation is mine.

Content: Nothing more suggestive than the ep itself. Occasional bad language.

Note: This is my attempt to fill in some gaps in "Amphipolis Under Siege."

Special thanks to Tango1 for beta-reading!

Within Reach

By XenaAmber

Show me those hands of yours,

With which we once caressed each other

And today we use to hurt each other.

-- Alejandro Sanz, "Show Me Your Hands" (Enséñame tus manos)

The sky is darkening as I make my way back from the Amphipolis market, which has been serving as a source of food, medical supplies and sundry other items since Athena's attack began. I went to pick up some more swaddling for Eve at Cyrene's request, but it also offered me the chance to assess the villagers' reaction to the day's events. Athena and her chosen commander, Illainus, had almost defeated the assault I led against them; fortunately, Xena arrived just in time and I escaped unscathed. Well, mostly unscathed, I think, wincing as yet another muscle in my body starts to ache. Xena had added a few last-minute improvisations to our plan, chief among them the explosion of Greek fire from the tunnels beneath the battle. It had been uncomfortably close to me, and I can feel the tightness of my skin where the flames had almost touched me. Luckily, the force of the blast had thrown me clear away from it and I avoided any more serious injuries, though the fall left me with a number of bruises and aches.

The market had been buzzing with chatter about the battle, friends and neighbours asking if each other's loved ones were all right, and speculating on how long it would take for Athena to grow bored of the siege or for Xena to find some way to end it. None of them seemed to think it would last much longer, a day or two more at most. As I glanced around the market building and noted the meagre food supplies, I hoped that was true.

The tavern is hushed as I walk inside, in deference to the various sick and injured lying on pallets all over the main dining room. I nod at the women acting as nurses and head towards the room Xena, Eve and I are sharing. Normally Cyrene offers me my own room, but with so many wounded after today, we need all the extra space we can get. Eve is asleep in her little crib, and Xena is sitting on her bed polishing her sword. As she looks up at me, I see the weariness in her face. I don't think it's noticeable, really, but I know her so well now that the slight furrow in her brow, and the way she is blinking more than usual, give her away.

"Did you get everything?" she asks, rubbing the oil-dampened cloth along the blade of her sword.

I hold up the bundle of swaddling fabric in response.

"I still can't believe Cyrene didn't have any here," I say. "I was expecting her to stock up on baby supplies from excitement."

"Yeah, well. She probably didn't think we'd be here this long."

"So you definitely aren't thinking of getting Eve out of here?" I know the answer, but I decide to try my luck one last time. Earlier I had suggested to Xena that she and Eve could escape from the village after dark disguised in some of the armour we had captured from Athena's soldiers. She had dismissed the idea then, and her face hardened again now. But instead of the immediate "no" I expected, she remained silent for a moment.

"I am," she finally responds. "Just not by running away."

"Xena, it's not running away, it's saving your daughter," I interrupt, hurt that after everything I did today she is suggesting that I want her to take the coward's way out. Give me some credit: I know that's not her style. Surely her daughter's welfare is worth something, though. But she doesn't register my defensive tone, and I see the look she gets when she is developing a plan she knows I won't like: the eyes are calculating, but she's biting her lip slightly as well.

"Gabrielle, listen to me for a moment," she says. "Our problem here is that we're surrounded by enemies on all sides. We have limited food, and the water supply is poisoned." At my gasp, she pauses for a second and then explains that she had a visit from Athena while I was gone. "We don't have the strength to fight our way through her army, and I don't want to risk any more people than we already have."

"They will still fight," I tell her.

"I know. I just don't want them to if there's a better way to solve the problem," she responds.

"And is there a better way?"

She takes a visible breath before she answers. "Ares would help us. He doesn't want Athena to take this village."

As soon as she says his name, my heart sinks. I don't know exactly what she's thinking yet, but from the little she's told me of their recent interactions, I really don't want Ares to be involved. The last time I saw him, they were both ready to kill each other, in the aftermath of Ares' murder of Eli. Since then, I've asked her if she thinks he will pursue her and Eve along with the rest of his family. I suspect he'll be conflicted about it, but in the end his instincts for self-preservation will win out. But all she said was that things had changed since that day when they were holding the Dagger of Helios to each other's throats. She changed the subject after that. I assumed then that she meant Eve's birth and Zeus' death, but the suggestion of asking Ares to rescue us makes me wonder if there was something else.

"How do you mean?" I ask. "I know he doesn't get along with Athena… but surely if his whole family is in danger, they would be working together."

Her face is distant now. "If he had the right offer, he would side with me against her, family or not."

Now I am completely confused, and I'm sure my face shows it. She looks over at me again, and I notice that she has put the sword down and one of her fists is absently clenching and unclenching.

"When we were down in Tartarus," she says slowly, "Ares tried to tell me that he loved me." She raises a hand to stop me from responding, and I close my mouth again. "And while I was fighting the gods on the way to bring the poison antidote to Joxer, he came. He saved Eve from them. And I think he would do it again if I can strike a deal with him."

"Are you saying you believe him?" I ask, trying to process what she had just said. I hadn't known they had been talking that much; though now I think about it, when she called for him on the road into Amphipolis, he barely acknowledged Eve, so he must have seen her since the birth.

"I'm saying I think he will make a deal with me," she says simply.

"Xena, you're going to have to spell it out for me a little more than this, I'm afraid," I mutter, a little more sharply than I intended. "What exactly are you going to offer him?"

"He helps me save Eve, he gets me. Is that clear enough for you?"

Now I'm not confused; I'm incredulous. My initial reaction is to start spouting off about all the things Ares has done to her – and me, for that matter. Killing Eli is just the tip of the iceberg. But even as I take a breath, she turns away from me slightly. Her face is set and her lips are pursed together, and she leans over to check on Eve, who is still sleeping, oblivious to the chaos surrounding her. The movement is enough to make me pause for a moment. She knows him a lot better than I do, and I doubt she needs a laundry list of all the wrongs he has done. As I awkwardly exhale again, she speaks.

"I've been thinking about it, Gabrielle. And trust me. I know how to handle him. I can get us all out of here and stop Athena from slaughtering these people, and that will be that. No strings." Now she's looking right at me, trying to convince me. Would she go through with this anyway if she can't?

"I just don't understand why you trust him," I finally say. "How do you know he wouldn't just give Eve to Athena anyway?"

"I trust him to look out for himself, and he's got more of a chance of coming out on top with me than with Athena."

"That's way more of a mental image than I need, thanks." The words come out before I can stop them, and I can see the different reactions on Xena's face: shock, some well-hidden amusement (that corner of her lip trying not to smirk is the give-away there) and – is that a little blush?

"Anyway, that's the plan. I'll talk to him tomorrow," she says, opting for matter-of-factness instead of continuing the conversation my jibe had opened up.

She is uncomfortable discussing Ares with me, as I know from the times I've tried to talk about him to her over the years. I don't know the details of their history, and I can barely guess exactly how they stand with each other at the moment, but then, I don't think Xena quite knows right now either. What I know is that my own feelings – that he's a duplicitous son of a bitch most of the time, and disarmingly sincere every now and then – are not the whole picture.

She's up and moving around in preparation for bed now, putting the sword and cloth away, and kissing Eve goodnight. The subject is closed, so I stand up and begin to change out of my leather fighting outfit.

After she blows the last candle out and we are both drifting off to sleep, I ask her one last time if she would just take Eve and slip unnoticed out of Amphipolis.

"This is the best way," she responds quietly. "Trust me."

As soon as I step into the temple, any vague thoughts I had that this would be easy slip straight out of my head. After the turmoil of the village outside, the temple is serene; or at least it would have been if I hadn't come stalking in through the heavy wooden doors, shouting for Ares to show himself. No point waiting around.

Sure enough, it doesn't take long for him to appear. I feel that familiar shiver a second before he materialises. He's obviously expecting me, because he makes a wisecrack about how badly I am losing against Athena. A number of responses spring to my lips, but I content myself with a curt "thanks" for his mock-chivalry.

He shrugs extravagantly. "So?"

He knows exactly why I'm here, that I can tell, but it looks like we're going to do things the long way. Just like always. "Cut the crap," I interrupt him. "I'm ready to bargain. You fight beside me and we can defeat Athena."

Even as I listen to him ramble on about the ramifications of the deal for his position on Olympus, I can see in his eyes that I have him. He's going to agree, and we're going to beat her, but he has to satisfy his ego by making me wait while he decides that for himself. I keep my face blank and wait.

"Oh, I'm still interested," he concludes. "I just want to know – what's in it for me?"

"What's in it for you?" I repeat, and I slide my hand inside his vest. My eyes glance down to follow the motion, and then I look back up at him. "Me."

Gotcha.

Before he can respond, I run my finger over his lips. "You help me defeat Athena, and I'm yours."

"You're mine." He swallows slightly, and something in his tone sends a new shiver down my spine. It doesn't sound the way I would have expected, coming from him. Not possessive, just thoughtful. I can see the implications of my offer dawning on him even as he speaks the words. Then again, he's not really been acting the way I've expected, lately. A memory of our conversation down in Tartarus jumps unbidden into my head, of his mute glare at me when I called his bluff and told him to admit he loved me. I had turned away then, and he yelled some smart-ass comment after me. But I would be lying if I told myself I hadn't heard the hurt in his voice.

That's neither here nor there, though. Right now, I have a deal to strike.

"For years, you've been wanting me to be your Warrior Queen. Well, I'm offering you my sword – and the body that wields it." I lean even closer towards him, and now I can smell the leather of his outfit mingled with the indefinable, but instantly recognisable smell of him.

"That's – very tempting," he manages to get out, and I note with a little smugness and a touch of excitement that I am having the same effect on him as he is on me. It takes me a second to realise he asked me a question. Get a grip, I admonish myself.

"Olympus is doomed. Zeus is dead," I say. "And whatever happens here, their reign is over." When did he go from being one of them to one of us?

That's a question for later, I think, and before I can hesitate, I play my trump card. My other hand comes up and grabs his vest, pulling him to me. "Look, you want immortality? A child is immortality. A legacy. A lineage. You help me save my daughter, and you will be her father."

Considering that just a short time ago, he was the one suggesting to me that having a child with me wouldn't count as "real" immortality, he sure looks like he's interested. We were standing in a tree during that conversation, and I called him out on his sudden desire to have a child with me now that he feared his own end was approaching. He looked at me and asked me, straight out: why not me? I pushed him aside, called him names. Tried to forget my dream, where he saved Eve, and then—

But that question had stuck in my head, long after he had saved her in reality as well. Why not him?

"Through her we can live forever," I whisper.

It didn't sound the same as when he had made that suggestion to me. When he said it, my first reaction had been to look for the trick, the deception that always lurked behind his words. When I couldn't find one, I goaded him into a predictable burst of anger. But when I said it to him, I remembered how small Eve had seemed in his arms when he saved her from the battle, and how I had wondered if she would have looked different if she had been his daughter.

"Xena—" he interrupts me, but it's too late for that now.

"I'm offering you everything you ever wanted," I insist, wondering if that's true. "Take it."

And then my mouth is on his, or his is on mine; I'm not sure who started it, but it doesn't really matter. The contact is agonisingly light for a moment, but then I pull his head towards me and a small moan escapes me as his tongue slips inside my mouth. He feels the same as he did in my dream. The soft lips are familiar, but more immediate, more urgent. In the dream, we had all the time in the world. But now, as I surrender quietly to my need, he wrenches himself away from me and stumbles back, putting some distance between us.

"No!" he barks, a contrast to our quiet tones a moment ago. "No, you don't."

My eyes are locked on him, and I can see the desire in his face, barely masked by a frown of suspicion. I am short of breath, and for once, not sure what he is thinking.

"What?" I gasp.

"You're up to something." He nods his head as if to convince himself. I'm sure his frustration is reflected in my expression. Normally when we spar, verbally or physically, the adrenaline brings a smile to my face that I can't always conceal, but this is different. The rush from the kiss is seeping away and leaving me stunned.

"I have desired you from the very first moment I saw you in battle," he says, taking advantage of my momentary inability to speak. "And now? After all these years, after all these games, the cat and the mouse, will-I-won't-I – 'Ares, I'm yours, take me'? Well, I'm sorry, it's too easy."

But damn him, he still wants me. That's as clear as day.

"I am offering you a deal. And I don't go back on my promises." That's all I can offer as a way to salvage this deal, a last-ditch attempt to invite him to team up with me. To let him enter my daughter's life. Enter my life. If there's any chance of that at all, he has to believe me here, and recognise that far from being too easy, it's one of the bigger risks I've taken in my life.

He walks towards me again, staring me down. "No, no, you don't. But you always come up with some way to mess with my head." And just like that, the window disappears, and his face hardens into the same mask I've used so many times against him, when I don't want him to see he's scored a hit on me. I suppose he probably saw through me as easily as I see through him now.

He disappears abruptly, and I take a deep breath. I can feel him on my mouth still, and the conflicting emotions are making me dizzy.

So, he's not one of us after all. Should have known better, really. Well then. I take a few more breaths to calm myself, and walk back towards the door of the temple. The plan will still work. Only instead of being my co-conspirator, Ares is going to be one of the victims.

I don't know if it's the sudden stench of the war-torn village that causes my stomach to clench violently as I open the temple door, or if it's my regret.

As I end my tirade against the two villagers discussing whether to surrender Eve to Athena, I am aware that I have overreacted. They were only talking; did I really need to lose my temper in front of the whole guard that way? I have established some credibility as a leader after the previous few days of fighting; otherwise I would expect them to be somewhat sceptical of me. But it seems that I'm more intimidating than I thought, and they all look surprised and not a little chastised by the end of my speech.

I will need to speak to them all again soon, to inform them about the change of plan and Xena's orders for another attack on Athena's army. She found me earlier in the day, and explained what she wanted in clipped, curt tones: at the appointed time, we should set off explosions of Greek fire to begin the attack, and then I should lead the villagers into battle. Oh – and she would need a doll.

I asked her why we had to include Ares in the deception about the doll, and when I saw the look on her face, I wished I hadn't. She told me that he hadn't agreed to her offer yet, but I was going to be the secret weapon to persuade him to cooperate. She figured that if I tried to talk Ares out of the whole scheme, in his usual contrary way, he would probably turn around and play right into her hands. All I had to do was convince him that it was a bad idea.

And that's why I'm standing here, a short distance away from the rest of the villagers, calling Ares' name and feeling like I'm about to do something I shouldn't.

He appears in his trademark burst of blue light, quipping about how popular he's been lately. Easier than I expected, actually, to summon a god. He eyes me inquiringly.

"I'm not here to play games," I say, launching into my part. "I know that Xena made an offer to you."

His expression doesn't change, but his tone is sarcastic. "You're telling the story."

"If you lay a hand on her, I swear— " I try and bring back the anger I had felt a second ago towards those two villagers, but when I say the words to Ares, they feel hollow. He seems to notice this too, and I have no answer when he asks me exactly what kind of threat I could make to him. I try to think what my younger self might have said to him if we were having this conversation a few years ago. "If you accept, you will destroy Xena. You will turn her into exactly what she used to be, a vicious killer!"

"Yeah, well, I kinda liked that Xena," he replies, but missing the taunt in his voice that I'm accustomed to hearing.

"Did you? Then why are you so obsessed with who she is now?" I respond without thinking. That question gets his attention. The intensity in his eyes is making me nervous, but he doesn't say anything. "Tell me you don't feel anything for the real Xena, the good Xena," I say to fill the silence. "Ares, if you make her do this, she will never love you."

I hadn't planned to say anything like that, and my first thought was that I had misunderstood Xena's reaction to whatever had happened earlier in the temple, and he was going to laugh in my face at my overactive imagination. But the look on his face confirms my gut feeling: far from laughing, he is considering my words. His eyes are glittering, but his usual cockiness has fallen by the wayside for a second, and I remember walking with him when he was mortal, and joking about Xena's steely gaze when she's trying to intimidate someone.

"Do you think she'd really give herself to me to save Eve?" he asks slowly.

"Has she ever said anything she doesn't mean?" I reply. We look at each other for a moment, and then he grins at me enigmatically.

"Thank you," he says.

"Don't do it," I whisper. He looks at me, sighs theatrically, and disappears.

It occurs to me then that I have just ruined our plan. I was supposed to talk him into the deal with Xena, but I've guessed his feelings too well. I have just told him he will never have a chance with her if he goes through with the deal – but we need him to help us save Eve and Amphipolis. I hit home with him for a second there, but I get a sinking feeling in my gut as I wonder how much that moment of honesty is going to cost us.

I don't get chance to talk to Xena, because I am too busy preparing for the second attack in as many days on an army far more powerful than our own. I look for her, but can't find her to warn her about my screw-up earlier. And while my most immediate concern is for the battle and the fate of everyone in Amphipolis, a part of me is glad I don't have to explain exactly what I said to Ares. I feel guilty and just a little embarrassed for talking about her to him, not because I think that I'm mistaken, but I fear that I'm not. I can only hope that Ares didn't listen to me, and he bought the deal, and right now she's—with him. I shake my head to clear it, and resolve to stop thinking in circles about this whole crazy situation. All that matters right now is that we need Ares to save the village, and if a deal with Xena is the only way to convince him to do that, then so be it.

We have calculated the timing so that the explosions announcing the start of the battle will begin as the heat of the day starts to ease, and I get so wrapped up in the details of the battle, and my concern about Xena, that the hour arrives before I know it. The explosions grab everyone's attention as they go off simultaneously, and I know that on the other side of the village, one just went off next to a wall of Ares' temple. But thanks to my big mouth, Ares and Xena probably aren't there to hear it.

The fight itself is a blur. I direct the villagers; I twist, block and strike against Athena's soldiers; and I notice with growing dismay that their numbers seem to be increasing despite our efforts. The villagers don't know about the whole plan, of course, but I have told them that Xena has something up her sleeve and they should not fight recklessly before she appears. But it's still a fight, and we have suffered some casualties, including the younger of the two men I had been shouting at earlier in the day.

Suddenly Xena is there, walking through a gap in the lines of fighters. She's cradling the doll, but it's easy to forget that small detail when I look at her stony face, and I can hear the genuine hurt in her voice when, as planned, she rejects my plea not to surrender Eve. I'm not the only one to stop fighting; I hear Illainus halting Athena's troops from her post at the goddess's side.

After a brief, inaudible exchange with Xena, Athena raises her sword over the doll. But as she moves to strike, I jump as Ares suddenly materialises to block the downward slash of her blade. Maybe things aren't quite over yet.

And then all Tartarus breaks loose: Xena signals for me to relaunch the attack, and I shout to the villagers. Ares and Athena duel viciously, and the various lightning bolts and other noises from their godly battle punctuate the burst of activity that breaks out across the field. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Xena moving towards Illainus. The battle is short, but brutal, and I end up with a few cuts and one blow to the stomach that knocks the wind clean out of me. Athena's dismayed scream suddenly echoes louder than everything else, and I spin around to watch as she holds her fallen champion in her arms. Xena steps away from the pair, her bloody sword still poised to defend her, but as she catches my eye, we know that the battle is over.

"Take a good look, Ares," Athena shouts to him. "We're next, all of us!" She disappears with Illainus' corpse, and I glance over at Ares' sombre face.

The villagers cheer at their sudden victory, and Athena's soldiers, looking around at each other, retreat. A man claps me on the back as I move towards Xena. She has crouched down to pick the doll up from the ground, where it has been all this time.

"Xena, are you okay?" I ask.

She straightens up, and I can't tell from her body language whether everything went according to plan or not. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Did you and Ares—?" The sinking feeling about my words to him earlier has returned now I am with her, even though I know from his actions on the battlefield that they have worked out some kind of arrangement.

"No," she replies, but she is looking past me.

"Not yet," Ares clarifies, approaching us. He's grinning at her. "Shall we conclude our transaction, Xena?"

So I needn't have worried about his interest in the deal… looks like he heard what I said about his feelings for the real Xena and decided that he didn't care after all. Should have guessed it wasn't worth trying to appeal to his morals. I exhale, hoping my face isn't reflecting my emotions. I suppose I should be happier than I am that he came through with his side of the deal.

They exchange a few more words, and then Xena abruptly throws the doll she has been cradling all this time at Ares' chest. He catches it, and when he realises how light and – not human – it is, he unwraps the cloth and reveals its wooden face. He raps on the head a couple of times, confirming it's hollow.

They look at each other, and I can't pick up on what they're thinking.

"Why do you continue to deny us?" he asks. I wonder if he cares that I am standing there with them. "We had a deal! When we were fighting side by side, it was like we were one. Back there in the temple, can you tell me you didn't feel anything?"

She had looked at me while he was speaking, and now pauses for a long second before answering the question. Then she says, flatly and deliberately, "I felt nothing."

Ares looks at her, and he seems amused, but he can't hold her gaze, and I wonder if this act he's putting up is fooling her any better than it's fooling me. Ares wouldn't be Ares without his bravado, but it looks like he's talked himself into a corner this time. I catch his eye and smirk. If he wants to pretend our conversation didn't happen and all he cares about is his side of the bargain… let him. It did happen, and I know that isn't all he cares about.

"This isn't finished," he tells her, still in that same forced tone. "As long as your child lives, they'll keep coming. And then you're gonna have to come to me for help."

He disappears without letting her reply, and she closes her eyes. She looks very tired, so when I see Cyrene and the real Eve heading our way, I move to greet them. But not before I hear her say to herself, "I felt something."

I know then that I am not going to tell her about my conversation with Ares. She is angry with herself about going back on her side of their deal, and even though I regret that, I cannot tell her that Ares valued a quick roll in the sack with her more than any chance that she might one day love him back. On balance, the remorse is going to hurt her less.

She's trying to distract us by laughing and joking about the plan, and causing Cyrene's eyebrows to raise as she fills her in on the whole plan. We walk back to the inn, and I ask her if she did say she'd felt something, to see how she describes the situation when we are in private. She jokes around with me as well, and I decide to let the matter drop for the time being.

The last embers of the campfire are burning out as I awake, out of habit, to check on Eve. She's still sleeping; she goes through the night sometimes, now. Gabrielle is huddled under her furs across from us, despite the warm night, and I can hear her deep, steady breathing. The stars are bright above my head.

I sit watching my sleeping daughter, and pondering the journey ahead. It's been two days since we left Amphipolis, more hastily than my mother wanted. After the battle, I decided that it wasn't fair to risk any other gods coming to finish what Athena had started there. Now we're on our way to the Amazons, where Gabrielle thinks we will be safe under her protection as queen. I am not so sure. Still, it's a long journey and I suspect the gods will attack us again before we reach them, so it may not matter in the end.

Speaking of gods.

"It's a little late for you, don't you think?" I mutter, before glancing at Gabrielle and walking into the shadow of the trees surrounding our campsite. I'm surprised, frankly, that Ares has taken this long to find me. I suppose we've both had wounds to lick, though. Part of me has wanted to talk to him ever since the battle, to tell him – what? Thanks for saving Eve, and sorry for screwing you over? Because he did save her, twice now, no matter how I try to rationalise it. Even though we both know what the prophecy means. He took the risk, and sided with me against his sister, and even though he did what I wanted, we still parted as enemies. That's why I haven't spoken to him since.

But now he's here and I have no choice.

He's waiting for me, smirking slightly. "So, how do you cope with the lack of sleep on top of all the other – maternal responsibilities – you have now?"

"You just keep reminding yourself it's all for a good cause," I reply.

"Even the Warrior Princess has to make some sacrifices for the cause of the god of Eli," he says nonchalantly, and the irritation flares up before I can clamp down on it.

"Ares, did you want something, or are you just—?"

He grins at me. "I'm just. Is that allowed?"

I glare at him.

"Actually, I kinda wanted to see exactly where we left off before." His brown eyes are suddenly too close to mine. I remember exactly where we left off: our bodies entwined, the taste of wine on his lips, and an explosion that went off right on time, yet seemed much too soon.

"Did you?" I say, caught between conflicting urges to step back or move closer to him. I settle for holding my ground, and I can see a little twitch of amusement in the bastard's face.

"You never have liked not running the show, have you? Lucky things worked out well for you this time." He touches a lock of my hair, which is tousled from sleep. Now I am fully awake, though, and not surprised at the turn the conversation is taking.

"Ares, if you're here to follow through on our deal, just spit it out, would you?" I try not to sound too frustrated with him. Then again, he can be incredibly frustrating, especially when his hand moves from my hair to my shoulder, an ever-so-light touch that carries the weight of anticipation and memory.

He raises an eyebrow at me, but doesn't move. "I thought we didn't have a deal? Since I saved your dolly and not your daughter, remember?"

"We could have had a deal," I say quietly. Now I'm not thinking about the sham I concocted with the furs and the couch and the rose petals. I had fooled us both with that one: he thought we had an agreement, and I lost myself in the moment and forgot for a while how hollow my little victory over him would feel. We could have made a deal the first time I offered him one. A pact, without the tricks and games. But he didn't believe me, and I had come up with a deception to confirm his doubts in the end.

"A deal generally means both people follow through on their promises, but in theory, yes we could," he comments wryly.

That's too much for me, and I move in an instant from guilt to anger. I step closer to him and I barely need to speak for him to hear me. "All right, so I owe you a fuck. Does that make you happy?"

He grins at my outburst. "Well, not the owing part, exactly."

"Do you want to fix that right now, then?" I hiss. "If I fuck you right now, will you let this go?" I'm trembling just a little, and since I'm all but standing in his arms, I can feel that I've startled him. The hand that had been lightly caressing me stills, and grips my shoulder.

But his expression somehow remains relaxed, amused, and he cocks his head at me without replying. There's nothing else I can really add, so we stare at each other.

"Hm," he finally breaks the silence. "Quite a choice."

"Is there a choice?" I reply when that's all he seems to want to say.

Next thing I know, he is kissing me, a deep kiss that robs me of my breath and leaves me reeling for a second before I can respond. His mouth is harsh and insistent, and he's gripping my waist now, so hard I wonder if he actually is going to throw me down on the ground and—

And then, seemingly quite calm, he pulls back, still holding me, and smiles bitterly. "Let's just say there was no deal and I did you a favour, shall we?"

"What are you talking about?" I breathe, my legs locked into place, unable to manufacture a witty retort.

"Maybe I just felt charitable and saved Eve without expecting—payment. I did get the pleasure of fighting with you against my sister, after all. Maybe that's enough."

I shake my head at him incredulously. "You, charitable? Yeah, right."

"Or maybe it's just my turn to mess with your head for a change. Whatever you want to think."

Then, slowly, carefully, he takes my hand and lifts it up between us.

"Or maybe I felt like practicing the daddy gig, just in case things ever do work out." He kisses my hand, an achingly familiar gesture, and disappears.

The dawn is on its way. Soon we'll be heading out, and I'll need to put my confusion and anger and lust and guilt to one side again. But for now the dark sky envelops me, and I sit alone in the forest, and hope that despite all my suspicions and his protestations to the contrary, maybe Ares is one of us after all.

THE END