Same Time Next Week?

The campfire was almost extinguished, its faint crackle mingling with the rustle of leaves, the clicking and trilling of cicadas, and other sounds of the night. Xena pulled the blanket up and turned on her side, thinking about the past few days' events. She was glad that Glaphyra and Darnell seemed to be on the right track; maybe, together, it would be easier for them to stay on it. All in all, the mission had gone pretty well; except for the two convicts who hadn't taken the second chance she offered them. And except for the fact that her faithful sword now lay in two pieces, shattered when it hit the armor of one of Agathon's soldiers -- the armor made of Hephaestus' supermetal, which Ares had given to his protégé.

Damn Ares and his games. Xena turned over, scowling. Her thoughts drifted to their face-off in Agathon's ill-fated armory, to the way he looked at her with a mix of cool amusement and admiration; a look that told her that they understood each other perfectly and he knew it, and that when it came to the game they were playing Agathon was way out of his league.

Ares hadn't just stood by and left Agathon to his doom; he had given her the key to beating him, telling her that Agathon had kept his troops in his castle. Xena wondered if he had knowingly tried to tip her off, under the pretext of trying to scare her away. She thought of their conversation in the woods under the moon-flooded trees. He had reminded her of their time together; the time when she was a warlord in his service and under his tutelage. She didn't like to think about that. There were awful memories of conquest and carnage -- a part of the guilt she would always carry around with her -- but there was also … more.

Her mind flashed back, all too vividly, to a night in her tent years ago -- to Ares' hand brushing over her hair and her shoulders, making her suppress a shiver; to his voice saying, huskily, "Come back to bed." She sat on the edge of her fur bedding buckling up her gauntlets, her leathers already on, with Ares sprawled behind her naked, his skin copper-tinted in the candlelight.

"Not now." She smirked as she buckled the second gauntlet, the heat of recent pleasure still lingering deliciously in her body. "I've got things to do." She didn't want, back then, to make herself too available.

He sat up and kissed her shoulder; and again, higher. "Things better than this?"

"Things I need to -- ah -- " Her voice faltered because he lapped hotly at the soft skin of her neck, then trailed upwards to her ear.

"Come back to bed -- " this time he whispered it into her ear, his hand lightly stroking her arched neck, then moving downwards to her chest, to the hollow between her breasts under the armor. She leaned back and moaned, her eyes closed; it seemed as if her skin glowed where he had touched it, where his fingers had left a trace.

Giving in, to herself more than to him, she turned around and faced him, her fierce kiss taking him by surprise so that he moaned in turn; especially when her fingers sought out his cock, closing around it, and it stiffened and swelled even more under her touch. She pulled back and looked at him, his face flushed and helpless with passion, and the knowledge that she could have this effect on the God of War made her dizzy; made her want to laugh. She grinned and leaned in to kiss him again, and as he swept her in his arms her clothes and armor were gone, a light breeze gliding over her skin as she was left naked. Having surrendered, she was now determined to take control, to push him down on his back and straddle him and ride him; but he pushed her down first. There was a growl in his throat as he claimed her lips in another long kiss; then, he slid down to let his mouth roam over her breasts and suck at her nipples, teething them a little, the tiny sting of it making the pleasure more intense. As his kisses trailed down her stomach, her hips arched in anticipation of the slow caress of his tongue --

Damn.

Xena sat up with a jolt. Those memories, which she had no business revisiting, had had an entirely predictable effect on her body. The heat between her legs made her squirm; as she sighed and lay down again, it did not abate but demanded relief. She glanced sheepishly in Gabrielle's direction; knowing how soundly her friend slept, it was probably a safe bet that she wasn't going to wake up. She hesitated, wanting to slide her hand under the covers and angry at herself that thinking about Ares would get her so hot and bothered she'd have to --

Before she could do or think anything else, there was a new sensation; or rather, a familiar sensation, the tingling in her spine and on her skin which signaled, unmistakably, that Ares was around. Not a good thing at all, in her present state.

She got up, the soft breeze of the summer night cool on her bare shoulders and legs, and walked to the edge of the trees and into the forest, finally stopping in a spot where a small clearing left the grass and the ferns mottled with moonlight -- a spot much like the one where she had talked to Ares the other night.

"Show yourself," she said harshly, and was taken aback by the impatience in her own voice.

There was a brief silence, filled only with the cicadas' persistent chorus. Ares' presence was gone. What in Tartarus -- ? Then she felt him, overwhelmingly, behind her. She whipped around and found herself standing face to face with him, so close they were almost touching; so close that when he said, "Hello, Xena," she felt the warmth of his breath on her face. His eyes twinkled in the moonlight.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, trying to sound as pissed off as she should have been; which wasn't easy when unwanted thoughts kept intruding in her head about how it would feel to pull him toward her and kiss his full lips, to feel the heat of his body against hers, to push up his vest and hear him gasp when she bit his nipple --

"Actually, I've got something for you," he said, in a mock-gallant tone. She stared in shock as he held up his hand; there was a sharp flash of light in the night air that became a silvery shimmer, and then solidified into the shape of a sword. Her sword, in fact, whole, unbroken, with no sign of the recent damage.

"I believe this is yours," he said, holding it out to her. She snatched it and inspected the blade, running a finger along its edge. It was definitely her sword, not an exact replica; she recognized all the little dents and scratches that had been there before, but she couldn't even tell exactly where it had snapped in half.

"Nice job. Did you fix it yourself, or was this a special order for Haephestus?"

"Aw -- you can't expect me to give away all the tricks of the trade." He smirked. "I could have just gotten you a new one, but I figured you'd have a sentimental attachment to the old thing."

"Thoughtful of you," she said wryly, lowering the blade.

"Is that all the thanks I get?"

"Thanks?" She raised a mocking eyebrow. "It wouldn’t have been broken in the first place if you hadn't given your golden boy some toys he wasn't ready to handle!"

He grimaced. "Sure, rub it in. All right, so maybe Agathon wasn't the brightest idea I ever had."

"Agathon!" she snorted. "Come on -- without your help, he couldn't have taken over a roadside tavern -- let alone Greece!"

He was still standing very close to her, a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. She looked down for a moment; moonlight was sparkling in the studs of his vest, gleaming in the pendant on his chest and in the hilt of his sword. Her gaze slid to the laces of his pants, long enough to notice the swelling there; startled, she raised her eyes and held his stare, suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was wearing only her linen tunic. She wondered if he could see how stiff her nipples were.

He cleared his throat. "I think you -- underestimate Agathon," he said, a new husky note in his voice. "He gave you a pretty good run."

"Just a light workout," she said casually. The heat between her thighs was rising again, pulsing and spreading to her belly, threatening to turn her legs to water. She had to collect herself and go back to the campsite before she did anything stupid.

"I'll admit" -- Ares moved even closer -- "he could have never replaced you." He looked, quite shamelessly, down at her breasts. "In -- more ways that one."

"Really," she parried, with a last effort to steel herself. "And what would those -- "

Before she could finish, his mouth covered hers and his tongue slid hotly between her lips as his arms closed around her waist. She let go of the sword and heard it thump dully on some tree root on the ground. He drew her toward him and she felt the heat and power of his body against hers, the hardness of his cock. Her hands flew up and instead of pushing him away she sank her fingers into his long thick hair, drawing him even closer, gasping for breath when he released her mouth, arching into him.

His left arm still around her waist, he freed the other one to fumble at his belt; she heard it fall to the ground, and then his hand was under her tunic, moving up her thighs. He was about to find out how aroused she was; by now, she didn't care. He touched her through her soaked undergarment and she shuddered.

"Sweet Olympus," Ares murmured hoarsely, "you're -- "

"Shut up," she hissed, pulling his head down to kiss him again. As his tongue thrust against hers, he ripped away the flimsy piece of fabric, parted the wet curls and touched her cleft. Xena tried to still her moans as he stroked her, toyed with her; his fingers circled and rubbed her bud until she was exquisitely on the brink of release, then slid inside her, parting and caressing her folds; then moved back to her bud, this time teasing it with flicks that made her feel as if tiny flames were darting through her body yet were too light to tip her over the edge. She writhed against him and cried out; her knees buckled, and he pulled her down on a fur spread that most surely hadn't been there before.

He tugged at the hem of her tunic, and she arched to help him take it off. He paused to look at her.

"Beautiful," he said. "I've missed you -- "

"Ares," she growled impatiently. He leaned down to kiss her breasts, his hand sliding down her stomach and between her legs to resume the tantalizing caress. She spread her legs wider and bucked toward him, the tug of his mouth and teeth on her nipples driving her even wilder than before. As he continued stroking her, almost-but-not-quite hitting the spot where she wanted it most, his mouth traveled upward, and with his lips almost touching hers he whispered, "I love watching you come."

"Oh yes," she gasped, "yes -- "

He kissed her hard and finally stroked her bud, his rhythm matching the jolts that shook her body, the heat inside her tightening, spiraling up and outward, past an unbearable point where it burst into the ripples of an orgasm so intense that when it was over, it took her a while to catch her breath and open her eyes.

Ares was kneeling over her, his eyes wide and blurry with desire; and, somewhat to her dismay, she knew that she didn’t want it to be over yet. She wanted to caress his chest, to touch his cock, to feel him inside her -- to see him as overwhelmed by pleasure as she had been.

She sat up, still gasping for breath. He looked at her expectantly; wondering, no doubt, if she was going to be in a friendly mood or very pissed off at having let this happen. Maybe she should have been pissed off; but she didn't want to think about that right now. She reached over and stroked his chest, slipping her hand inside his vest, tweaking a hard nipple. He shuddered and drew in a sharp breath, throwing his head back, and then, with a hasty movement, undid the hooks on the vest and shrugged out of it, letting it drop to the ground.

Xena dove down to kiss his nipple and sucked on it, scraping it lightly with her teeth. His gasp became a moan. She kissed her way up to his neck, running her tongue over the tender skin there; and, unrelenting, slipped her hand down the front of his pants to clasp his swollen cock, relishing its heat and its silky hardness and the way it twitched in her palm.

"Xena -- " he groaned, his hand clutching convulsively at her hair.

She brought her mouth to his, gently parting his lips with the tip of her tongue. Slow at first, their kiss grew almost brutal, tongues thrusting and parrying at each other, her teeth nipping at his lower lip. Her finger brushed over the moist tip of his cock and she felt him shudder violently, the strangled sound he made vibrating in her throat. She pulled her hand away and he made that sound again, his hips bucking desperately toward her.

"Shh," she whispered, pressing her forehead to his; and then, tugging at his waistband, "Take these off."

Still on his knees, Ares undid the laces and she helped him slide his pants down over his hips; freed at last from its confinement, his cock leaped and jutted upwards, and Xena felt a new flush of desire. It seemed to her that in their years together she had never seen him so hard. She let one hand roam over his chest and his taut belly while the other stroked his cock and then cupped his balls, velvet-soft and heavy and full. She watched the effects of her touch reflected in his face, his eyes shut in bliss, his mouth gasping for air.

"You like that -- hmm?" she whispered, stroking him.

"Oooh yeah -- " he managed.

She pressed her hands to his shoulders and pushed him down on his back. "It's about to get better."

He kicked off his boots and his pants and was now naked as she was, as beautiful as she remembered him; his body racked with small tremors as his hips jerked helplessly in anticipation.

She straddled him, trapping his cock underneath her, and slowly rubbed herself against him until they were both moaning a little; then, finally, she leaned forward and lifted up her hips and let him guide his cock inside her. She took him in slowly, gasping at the sensation as he pushed deeper, leaning down to brush her breasts against his chest, to see little spasms of pleasure run across his face as his eyes widened. Once he was completely inside, she stayed still, relishing that exquisite fullness -- "Ooh that feels good," she breathed, and he grunted in assent, his hands grasping at her hips. She kissed him again, lightly and teasingly, and started a slow rhythmic motion that he matched; then stopped, pinning him down so that he couldn't move, and worked her inner muscles to squeeze his cock.

"You're incredible," he gasped. "You don't know how much I've missed this -- "

Me too, she thought. She moved again, riding him faster as his hands roamed her back and clutched at her shoulders; and then, when she least expected it, he flipped her over and she found herself on her back, with him on top, driving into her. She wanted to protest but a new tide of pleasure was already rising inside her, and she met his thrusts and wrapped her legs around him and returned his frenzied kisses, the jousting for dominance forgotten as their breaths turned to moans and their shudders to convulsions, until that warm tide crested and swept them both away.

They lay still for a few moments, Ares' face buried in her hair, his own dark locks scattered over her shoulder; she could hear his long shuddering breaths, could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest, mingling with her own heartbeat. Finally he rolled off her and drew her into his arms, pulling her up for another kiss; a kiss so tender that she might have believed he loved her. She wondered how she could lie with him like this, as though he weren't an adversary, and why, even now that she was no longer consumed with physical craving, she still wanted to stay in his arms awhile. Raising herself on an elbow, she searched his face, his dark and deceptively gentle eyes, as if she could find an answer there.

He reached over to fondle her breast, his finger making light circles around her nipple, causing her skin to tingle deliciously. Xena pulled back, knowing that if she let him continue she would soon be lost again. It wouldn't do if Gabrielle woke up and noticed her gone for a long time.

"I, uh -- I have to go," she said gently.

She sat up, looking for her tunic; Ares handed it to her and she slipped it on. She got up and swept back her hair, and in the next instant was startled to find him standing next to her fully dressed, though she should have remembered those tricks of his from their time together.

"So," he said. "Are we on for next week?"

She glared at him. "You're crazy. Do you think this changes things between us?"

He shrugged. "Who said anything about changing things? I'm just talking about a little good time in between you thwarting my evil plans."

In spite of herself, she laughed. "You are something else."

He caught her hand and pressed his lips to her palm, suavely. "Oh -- so are you."

Then they were grinning at each other, and it was she who leaned forward and drew him into one last greedy kiss.

"So," he said, catching his breath. "Next week?"

She shook her head, chuckling. "You are crazy."

He cocked his head, looking at her with a small smile, and gestured toward the ground where a piece of metal gleamed blue in the moonlight. "Don’t forget your sword."

"Oh." she said, bending to pick it up. "Thanks for that."

"I guess I owed you," he said.

"Hmm, I guess you did." She smirked at him. "You'll work it off next week."

He blew her a kiss and dissolved into a flash of bright blue light. The fur spread, she realized, was gone as well.

She twirled her sword and tried out a few moves, slicing across the shadows and the patches of moonlight. Then she headed back toward the camp. As she walked, she caught herself smiling.

Nothing was going to happen next week. No, of course not. But right now, she felt good.

THE END