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Word Prompt: Surrender


Joxer woke slowly but kept his eyes closed. The feel of the soft fur blankets were warm and silky against his skin. A male hand stroked his cock from root to tip then back down over his balls, it feels nice, Joxer thought. Joxer hissed as the man's fingers circled and caressed the head of his cock making pre-cum well up to a bead on the slit. A hand slid over Joxer's ass, down his thighs spreading them apart, ending with a teasing touch to his hole. Smooth lips surrounded by stubble, no, that was a full beard that brushed against Joxer's back, his current lover placed open mouth kisses along his shoulders and down his back.

"I know your awake, my dove," A deep husky voice filled the room with dark resonance. Joxer said nothing, only pushed his hips back into the hands touching him. "Do you want me to fuck you? I can if that's what you desire."

Joxer inhaled sharply at the word. It had been a long time since Joxer had been fucked in the way the other man was implying. Joxer grunted when the hand on his cock quicken it's pace and the man began to squeeze Joxer's balls gently.

"Your cock is so eager for my touch... Has it been so long for you? Surely you've had other lovers?" The word were purred softly into Joxer's ear.

Lovers? No. Joxer hadn't had a lover since Meg had started up her pleasure house. She had been kind enough to help Joxer learn about and fill his desires, mostly for free. Joxer sighed, loudly when a well oiled finger breached his hole. It pumped roughly but not painfully so, in and out of him in a steady rhythm.

Joxer cried out when a finger tip tapped against his prostate. It wasn't long before Joxer was moaning lewdly when a single finger became two then three. Joxer's hands clenched into the furs under him, when his lover stopped stroking his cock and removed his fingers from Joxer's hole. He could feel the strength in his lover's larger frame as he pushed apart Joxer's thighs and settled between them. Joxer could feel his lover's cock slid between the cheeks of his ass teasingly.

The other man grunted out a sigh, as he softly asked, "Do you want it," his lover's cock brushing against Joxer's hole. "Do you want my cock? you have to tell me, pretty one."

Joxer trembled at the thought of having this man's cock. To have the pleasure he knew a deep. hard fuck could bring. Joxer nodded his head, giving his consent for his lover to continue touching him. Joxer stiffened slightly as the man's cock pushed inside of him.

Joxer couldn't help it when the name of his God fell from his lips in broken gasps.


Joxer groaned, he rolled over and opened his eyes. He looked around the room of Meg's pleasure house. He was sore and sweat soaked in the best of ways. Meg's house offered only the best and safest pleasures for both the client as well as for the companion for the night. His friend always knew when Joxer needed his fantasies brought to life. Where she had found a man that looked, even sounded so much like him? Joxer couldn't even begin to guess but Meg had done it each time Joxer had asked for this fantasy to be brought to life. He ran a hand through his short sweaty hair. He was going to have to bath before he left. As much as he enjoyed nights like the last? The part he hated was the after, when he woke alone, hating the fact that his surrender wasn't to the one it was truly meant for.

Joxer shook off the depressing thoughts, he grabbed the robe that was at the end of the bed, shrugging it one.

Until we met again, a husky male voice filled with a dark resonance floated through Joxer's head, my dove.

Chapter Text

Word Prompt: Magic


Scott McCall didn't know what to think when he walked into his best friends bedroom with snacks so they could finish the video game they started with Isaac. He saw a dark haired, naked girl currently sitting astride Stiles lap, kissing the hell out of him. Stiles flailed on his bed under her, more from not knowing where to put his hands but other wise not fighting her off.

"Where did she come from?" Scott asked.

Isaac was sitting on the floor next to Stiles bed, he shrugged, "I don't know, Scott. Once moment we were talking the next Stiles has a naked girl in his lap. He must know her."

"What? How?"

"Stiles called her by name... Xander."

Scott blinked, exclaiming, "The only Xander he knows is his comic book crush. Xander Harris is a comic book character, Isaac!"

Stiles pushed Xander away from him long enough to mumble, "And a T.V. show..."before the girl reclaimed Stiles lips, growling slightly as she did so. Scott and Isaac watched as their friend was thoroughly kissed until the girl pulled away from Stiles.

Xander blinked at the two boys as if just realizing they were there. "Right shows over," Xander snarled at Isaac, eyes glowing green, when she noticed the curly haired boy was staring at her breasts.

"How about some clothes, whiskey-eyes," she asked Stiles who gave her a dazed look in reply. Before shrugging off his plaid long sleeved shirt, under it he wore a purple catwoman t-shirt. He held it out to her. Xander took it from him and put I on buttoning it up all the way as she moving off of him.

"Okay, there are three ways I could have got here. One: You summoned me with a spell."

Stiles groaned at the look Scott gave him, "Why are you looking at me like that," he asked, "You know Deaton will barely let me use Mt. Ash or so much as float a pencil! Let alone teach me how to do something like this!"

That was true, Scott thought. Deaton was wary of teaching Stiles how to use his Spark after seeing what the Nogitsune had done with it.

"Two: You boys pissed someone off."

The boys exchanged looks.

"Not lately," Isaac muttered.

"Yeah, we haven't made anyone mad since the Succubus." Scott said.

"That was an Incubus, Scott."

"But it tried to seduce you, Stiles."

"Trust me," Stiles stated flatly, "it was a guy."

"Three," Xander said looking amused at them, "some one said the W. word."

"Are there bad words that began with W?" Scott asked confused.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Xander means that there are beings in her reality and ours it seems that can grant people wishes."

"What like a Genie?" Isaac asked.

"More like the Monkey's Paw, " Xander told them.

"Oh, like if you wish for money but someone you know has to die in order for you to get it?" Scott asked.

Xander nodded, "The wish never comes out the way you want or expect it too."

"Stiles, if you knew things like that were real? Why didn't you warn us!" Scott accused him, "I know you've been lonely since Malia left but to do this-"

"Hey!" Isaac yelled, stopping Scott, "I said it! I-I just wanted Stiles to smile again." He looked down at the floor, "A real one. To babble about things only Lydia has any hope of understanding." He looked back up at Scott, "It was just a throw away comment, you know. That I whispered after reading that Buffy the Vampyre Slayer comic."

"Dude? Have I worried you that much?" Stiles surprised. Scott thought that his friend must not know how worried they all are about him and how quiet he was now.

Isaac nodded, "Ever since Al-Allison died," Scott watched as Stiles flinched at the girl's name, "You've shut us out. You don't even talk to Derek anymore, it worried him-all of us."

"Well, I did kill a lot of people, including Allison while possessed by the fox demon. It's not easy for a person to keep up a happy-go-lucky persona after something like that."

"You don't have too!" Isaac said, intently, "Just talk to us again."

Stiles gave him a look but said nothing.

"What are we going to do about her?" Scott asked pointing at Xander.

"Do we have to do anything," Stiles whined.

"Stiles, she can't stay here!"

"Why not?" Xander asked.

"Yeah," Stiles nodded, "Why not?"

"She is a freaking Primal Goddess! Don't look at me that way! I've read the comic! She is the last thing we need in this town!  Besides we don't need the bad luck she'll bring us. We have enough of that of our own. We have to get rid of her!"


"Right I'll call-wait? What?" Scott asked shocked that Stiles hadn't agreed with him.

"Isaac got her for me,"  Stiles pouted, "I'm keeping her," he stopped realizing how that must have sounded, he looked at Xander, "If she will let me?"

Xander smiled at Stiles.

"So why did you kiss Stiles when you got here?" Isaac asked.

Xander blinked, "He smells divine. Like cinnamon and cherries. I just had to see if he tasted as good too." She smirked at Isaac, "He does if you wanted to know."

Isaac grimaced, "I really didn't."

"Well, I don't know about you guys? But I'm staving," Stiles said getting off of his bed, "Let's go get something to eat."

"I really wish I had my own clothes  and weapons." Xander murmured mostly to herself, Scott thought.

Suddenly there was the sound of displaced air, two large duffle bags appeared and fell to the floor. Xander was up off the bed going over and threw the bags muttering how glad she was to have her battle-axe as she pulled clothes from one of the bags.

"Guys?" Scott asked but was ingored as Stiles and Isaac began to tell Xander how much she was going to like it here. "Guys?" That it was a lot like Sunnydale, only with werewolves instead of vampires. "Guys!!!"

Xander Harris in Beacon Hills? Scott thought, sarcastically, Yeah, it was going to be just magical.



Chapter Text

Gabrielle's green eyes stared coldly at the man, that had an arm around Joxer's waist. So far the bard was not impressed with the local warlord.


Joxer, much to the blonde's surprise had decided to take a break from trying to be a warrior but needing money had to do something so he sang for his supper. The people had loved the songs about love, hope, war and glory. So much so that they had stayed in town longer than they had planned. Tiberius was entranced with Joxer's voice. He soon had become very possessive of the lithe man much to her and Xena's dismay. Tiberius hadn't let her or Xena had a moment alone with Joxer. It was obvious to everyone that Tiberius was making Joxer uncomfortable with his actions.

Gabrielle turned to Xena, "That warlord is treating Joxer like...a piece of meat!"

Xena's eyes narrowed, she looked at Tiberius, who smiled smugly when he noticed her look. Xena grabbed Gabrielle by the arm when the blonde stood up and tried to go over where the warlord and Joxer were, murder plainly written on her face after seeing the man grab Joxer's ass.

"How dare he..." Gabrielle hissed, lowly but stopped when Ares flashed into the room wrapping a hand around Tiberius's throat, holding him about a foot off the ground.

The dark god growling out, "...Treat one of my followers that way!"

Gabrielle tried to go over to them again, but once more Xena stopped her pulling the blonde back into her seat, with a quietly spoken, "Wait, watch..."

"I've been watching you, Tiberius." Ares said, menacingly, "Did you think I wouldn't know how you've been treating Joxer? He is one of my most faithful. But I couldn't do anything until he invoked me..."

" ar..ou...tal-kingabot," Tiberius choked out.

"When Joxer sings...he sings to me." The dark god said, throwing Tiberius away from him. The warlord flew across the room and landed next to where Gabrielle and Xena were sitting.

"What is Ares talking about?" Gabrielle whispered to her friend. Xena stopped glaring at the man who was trying to pick himself up off the floor and answered Gabreille.

"Any mortal can call onto the Gods for protection but they don't have to grant it. It's different if the mortal was dedicated to the god in that case the mortal pretty much belongs to the god they were dedicated the eyes of that god and the other gods respect that claim. I'm pretty sure Dite got on Ares bad side with that bell stunt she pulled with Joxer. Anyway the god is duty bound to give their protection if called upon..."

"But," Gabrielle interrupted, "Joxer never said Ares name..."

"Blondie, here is right!" Tiberius said, finally standing up, "The moron never called your name. I don't believe he's so important to you that you know what he is doing all the time.

Ares got a look of disbelief on his face, "Did your mother drop you on your head? Or are you really just that stupid?"

As if yo prove Ares right, Tiberius said, "It was just a dumb song. I don't believe you heard it. Even the gods can't be everywhere at once!"

Ares shook his head, "Your right. But we still hear every prayer to us..."

As sensual beat of music began to play with out the taverns band having to pick up their instruments, then to the surprise and bemusement of the patrons of the tavern, Ares began to sing, "I'm a candle in the wind..."

Joxer smiled, his eyes shining with devotion to his god, "My future flickers before my eyes..." he sang counter to Aresturning the once simple song into a duet.

Ares, his gaze intent on the other man, carefully, in an almost predatory manner started to circle Joxer, "I'm to restless to be satisfied with silence..."

Joxer reached out a hand, trailing it down the black leather vest the god wore, slowly dragging his fingers down to the edge where it closed, "So, I'll push further through the night!"

One of Ares hands came up to rest on Joxer's waist, tightening on the white shirt that he had on. Ares leaned close and whispered in Joxer's ear, "Say you want to put me out," pulling Joxer to him until their crotches rubbed together, "and then I'm wrong!"

Joxer suddenly turned away from Ares, "No, I've hear those lies before..."

Ares grabbed Joxer by the upper arms, jerking him back until he touched Ares chest. Joxer swayed, rubbing his ass against the hard bulge his god sported, in time to the seductive music, pressed as close as he could get as the god sang, "Cause the fire inside, just keeps burning..." Joxer slowly slide down the god's front going almost to his knees, "Just won't stand it anymore!"

"You came along, you pulled my up,"  Ares matched Joxer's words with actions, " when I was down..."

Ares spun Joxer back around to face him, "The way you make me feel took me by surprise."

"I took your hand, " Joxer took Ares hand and kissed the palm of it, leaning close, "You stole my heart, you fed the fire," Joxer's voice was low and rolling with suppressed feeling.

Ares trailed the back of his fingers down Joxer's cheek, as they slowly began to dance with each other. Each trying to seduce the other with their movements, as Ares sang, "When you moved with me.... You gave me back my life..." Ares spun Joxer back so his back was against his chest once more.

Joxer's eyes fell closed as he raised an arm up and behind him until his fingers tangled up in his god thick, curly, locks of hair, clenching in it. "Let the spirit move me!" A strong arm tightened around Joxer's waist and Ares lust filled voice panted in his ear, "Let the spirit move me," Joxer moved against Ares in a blatantly sexual fashion, there was no mistaking what Joxer wanted from his god, as he sang, "Let your spirit move me..."

Ares hand trailed up and down Joxer's upper thigh, getting closer and closer to Joxer's cock, which everyone could see outlined by the thin brown doe-skin pants Joxer wore, Ares hand stopping bares inches from where it should be, "Let my spirit move you..."

Joxer could feel the seductive smile the god was wearing, pressed against his neck, as he was before turning to face Ares, when he opened his eyes it was to find the god's lips a hair's breath from his own.

"Let the spirit move us..." they both sang together softly, in unison their voices blending together in a lovely, dramatic harmony. As their lips touch they never hear the crowds roar of approval when Ares showed that he wasn't a dumb war god by any means and flashed away with his prize in his arms.

Tiberius, who had been stunned by the scene with the god and Joxer began to curse and call Joxer foul names but was cut off by a well aimed blow to the head with a staff that caused Tiberius to drop to the floor unconscious. Xena gave Gabrielle a look that said her action were wrong but amusing.

"So, that...that was..." Gabrielle started, stopped unsure how she felt about what she had seen, not sure she had the words for what she saw.

Xena nodded, getting up, "It was but I think we should get a room."

Gabrielle blinked in confusion, "Why?"

Xena smirked, "The spirit moved me," then she walked over to the tavern keeper to get that room. Gabrielle watched her for a moment, standing up to follow the warrior princess, a knowing smile came to the blonde's lips...perhaps the spirit had moved her too.


Chapter Text

Iphicles, King of Corinth, stoked the fire up in the fireplace with the poker until it was blazing. He had left their bed of furs only after he had brought Joxer pleasure twice. It was only the chill of the room that had force him from his lover.

"Have you no shame?" Joxer's voice muttered from the pile of furs a few feet from the fire place, "anyone one could walk in here and see you like that." The that in question was the fact that Iphicles was naked. Slowly the king made his way back to the furs, muttering under his breath about how cold the stones of the castles were as he slipped under the furs pulling the lithe man into his arms. His companion complained about Iphicles stealing all the warmth in the makeshift bed.

"Don't worry Joxer, I'll warm us both back up. Now," he flashed Joxer a seductive smile, "where were I...oh, yes, I believe my lips where, " he placed a kiss just above Joxer's nipple, "here," he breathed out causing Joxer's nipple.

"And I belive your hand was," Iphicles took his lover's hand placing it high on his own high, "here. Heading towards, "he pushed Joxer's hand over until it touched his hard cock, "there." Iphicles let out a broken sigh as Joxer's hand tighten around his cock, stroking down the length of it, firmly.

"Yes, yes, just like that," Iphicles whispered, before he wrapped his own lips on Joxer's nipple, sucking on it. Joxer's fingers tangled in Iphicles long locks of auburn hair. It wasn't long before the king found his pleasure by Joxer's hand with a loud cry.

After he got his breath back and the pleasured feeling was now just a warm tingling feeling, Iphicles trailed his fingers down Joxer's spine as he recovered his breath. When he was able to speak, "Marry me, Joxer."

Joxer hummed, sleepily. "Your not serious?" He raised up on his elbow, "Your the King of Corinth."

Iphicles frowned, "Why not? We're old friends we've known each other since we were youths training to be warriors..."

"I'm not of noble blood..."

"Neither am I, Joxer. I was given this kingdom because my brother didn't want the responsible of it. I was a second choice as king."

Joxer scowled, "Not in the eyes of the people of Corinth, Iphicles. Hercules was Jason's choice for king. You? You were always the peoples."

Iphicles looked uncertain at Joxer's words.

"You're a good king."

"You..." Iphicles said, eyes wide, "you say that like you believe that."

"Because I do."

"Marry me."

Joxer shook his head, "The Council will never allow it. You have to marry a woman so you can get an heir or a man who will bring wealth to the royal coffers. I can do neither."

"I can choose an heir from any of the noble families of Corinth. It's been done before. Wealth isn't only in money. I won't be the first to take a consort for love."

Joxer snorted, "You don't love me, Iphicles."

Iphicles was shocked at the statement. His feelings for Joxer had only been eclipsed by the ones he had for Rina. "Of course I love you, Joxer! You're my best friend. You were my first lover and the only man I've ever taken to my bed."

Joxer sighed, "Yes, you love me. Let me rephrase. You're not in love with me, Iph. There is a difference."

Iphicles frowned, exclaiming, "You always leave, Joxer! How can I fall in love with you if I know you are always going to leave! If you stay, I'm sure I can love you the way you want... I-I want that too."

Joxer gave him a hard look, "Are you sure, Iphicles?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Become my consort. Love me and I'll love you." The king all but begged the other man.

"Okay, Iph," Joxer smiled, "I'll marry you." Iphicles kissed Joxer deeply, pressing him back into the soft furs. Enjoying the feel, of the man who was soon to be his consort, against him.

 Neither man noticed the dark haired war god watching them with jealousy burning in his green eyes.

Chapter Text



“You can’t do this!” the Olympian God of Peace, once of the Grecian pantheon snarled that the three Powers That Be. Joxer may have grown up mortal during the height of the reign of the Greek Gods, so he never really understood a born god’s thought process…but anyone who could do what those idiots were planning…

“But we can,” said the dark seductive voice of the Power of Light, she had such a sweetly pretty face one would never guess just how cruel she could be. Her long blond hair glowed as if it were the symbol of her power; her bright blue eyes never missed a thing.

“He has done thing wrong! He only saved the life of his friend!”Joxer shouted.

Joxer had been keeping an eye on these three since they had been put in charge after the Twilight. Joxer never believed it was wise to give as much power to anyone as these three had over the mortal realms. Too many times their plots had almost destroyed humanity as it was…

“And we will…”purred the Power of Darkness, her short messy hair was the color of fresh blood, her cold eyes, the color of a starless night. “Its thrown poor Balance off his game.”

The Power of Balance gave a long-suffering sigh from his seat between the two female powers. He ran a hand through short, gravity-defying, bright sliver hair before a bland look settled on to his handsome face; his eyes were as hard as emeralds. “You have no jurisdiction here, petty god.”

Petty god? Joxer wondered, as if these three had any right to call him petty. What they were about to do to this mortal was an outrage! Joxer could not stand aside and let the ‘Powers that be wankers’ to quote Strife’s favorite mortal, cast this mortal’s soul into the Void just because other versions of the same mortal in other realities had proven to be a bit bothersome to the Power’s plans.

The boy seemed to delight in causing chaos, and it really wasn’t the boy’s fault, that he broke a prophecy now and then. It really was no reason for Fate and Destiny to hold such a grudge against him. The boy being a catalyst through out the multi-verse didn’t mean that this version in this reality should be punished for what his other-selves did…

“You can not convict this boy by virtue of what others did!” Joxer told the Powers.

“The boy must be stopped.” Darkness said slamming her hand down on the arm of her throne of skulls. “He has already started down a path similar to the others! The reviving of Buffy Summers after her death at the hands of the vampire master Henrick, is the way it always starts.”

“Jack O’Toole and his bomb would have restored the balance.” Light murmured.

“Oh, yes! Let’s kill off all of the champions for good in one go. Just to make sure one slayer dies as she is suppose too! That’s brilliant thinking there.” Balance said glaring at Light, who lowered her head to hide her smirk. Joxer had known it was just a matter of time before the three would begin to bicker among themselves.


At the sound of the young irated male voice all four higher beings turned to look at the dark haired and brown eyed boy who looked to be about seventeen to eighteen years old. He was bound in gold chains that wrapped around his bare chest and was hooked to a black leather collar. Leading down from the collar was a second set of chains that were sliver the chains end at the manacles at his wrists, from his wrist there was a third set of chains, they were bronze and stopped at the shackles around his ankles.

“Are the chains really necessary?” Joxer asked.

“Yes!” Darkness and Light said nodding unison.

Balance only shrugged, “He looks so pretty that way.”

That caused the boy in question to blush and mutter to himself about way anyone who thought he was pretty had to be evil. “You do know I have a name, right?” the mortal growled, “ and it’s not ‘boy’.”

“Of course you have a name.” Light snarled, making her pretty face quite ugly.

“You have many…”Darkness muttered darkly.

“And all of them well earned…Xander Harris.” Balance told the White Knight of Sunnydale. Joxer hated it when they did that. It was a mockery of how the Fates spoke and Joxer knew they meant it as such.

“It is one of the most feared names in the multi-verse. There are only a few who others who equal it.” Joxer said softly to Xander.

Xander’s eyes widen in confusion, “Is it because I’m evil? I know I become a vamp in that one reality…”

“By the Creator, no!” Darkness said with a laugh that had no humor in it. “If only you went evil in a few more realities…but even then chaos follows in your wake.”

“We’ve had enough of your interference!” Light said in a hard voice.

Xander looked shocked and the Peace God couldn’t blame the boy. After all it wasn’t everyday a person was told they were a menace to the multi-verse!

“These guys,” Joxer said pointing over his shoulder with his thumb, “want to blame some one for all their plans in Sunnydale for going haywire. They know that other versions of you in other realities are to blame for messing up those plans.”

Xander blinked in surprise, “ So…I’m what? Going to be punished for everything other Xanders have done? Could have done or would do?”

 'Never let it be said this boy is a fool.’ Thought Joxer at how quickly the boy grasped what was going on.

“In a word? Yes!” said Balance.

“That’s not fair!” Xander yelled.

“What a narrow point of view?” Light said leaning her head on Balance’s shoulder.

“One wonders what your basis for comparison is…” Darkness said slyly.

Xander made a disgruntled noise. Joxer wondered if the boy knew how precarious his position really was, or if he just didn’t care?

"Olympian,” Balance said his tone almost caused Joxer to flinch in surprise at being addressed, “You have pleaded this boy’s case since the beginning. You have be his champion when no other would dare… I warn you now, there is only one punishment that can be give in this case.”

“Xander is mortal! You will destroy his soul!” Joxer told them in outrage. Too many souls had been lost to the Void. For them to send a good soul, a soul that had championed humanity in other realities…was just wrong. “You can’t…”

“The chosen punishment shall stand.” Light said with a triumphant grin.

“Xander Harris shall be cast into the Void.” Darkness purred pleased.

“What happens after…”Balance said staring intently at Joxer, “…is none our concern.”

 That might be the only thing that will help me save Xander Harris soul. Joxer thought hopefully

Chapter Text

             'What do I want? What I've always'


The gravestone was pink marble, it shined in the moonlight and it stuck Xander as strange, was the thing, he noticed. It had been three days...three days since That Day. It wasn't because of Giles drinking himself into a stupor every night or Willow, who seemed to be searching very magic book that Giles owned...Dawn's silent or the way, Spike was hunting very demon he could find.

No. Anya had left Xander yesterday. She couldn't understand his grief. After all, it wasn't like Xander had been her watcher or he had been just her friend... and had he even been that? Xander sometimes wondered.

"She Saved The World...A Lot.' It was written with gold lettering on the shining pink marble. Who had come up with that? Dawn? Xander was sure it had been Dawn. In truth she had saved the world quite a few times. But she hadn't wanted to...No with her it had always been a burden to bare. Perhaps he was being a bit harsh. After all Xander hadn't been the Slayer. He didn't know what it was like to kill demons night after night...Oh, wait...He did know! Xander had been there...most nights right by her side. Whether she wanted him there or not. Even if it had been as bait more offend than not.

The gravestone was pink marble and said, 'She Saved The World...A Lot.' Still it shouldn't have happened...there had to have been another way...a way that didn't end with her death. Xander smirked to himself, she had been a such drama queen from the moment he met her so perhaps it couldn't have ended in any other way.

The gravestone was pink marble and said, 'Buffy Summers...She Saved The World...A Lot.'

"You selfish, Bitch." Xander whispered to himself before he turned, walking away from the gravesite knowing what he was going to do...break a promise his family had up held for centuries.


The Spike watched the Whelp as he left the graveyard. The others had been worried about the boy. They wondered how Xander would take the demon bint leaving him. It seemed like the boy hadn't even noticed. Spike decided to follow came as a surprise when he stopped on Kingman's Bluff.

Spike watched as the boy dropped to his knees...


Xander looked down at the ocean the full moon reflected in the waves the crashed against the bluff. He pulled out a pocketknife and flipped it open. Staring at it he remembered....

"Should you change your mind..." The man with the neatly trimmed beard it was dark as was his hair and eyes, leaned carelessly against the white wall making the black leather he wore all the more darker, "All you have to do is spill your blood and call my name."

"Sorry, I have enough weird in my life. Find someone else."

"Can't. It will be way or another. That's the thing about being me...I have nothing but time."

"I won't be the one to break the vow that my bloodline as keep for centuries!"

"We'll see..."he said before disappearing in a shower of blue-white sparks.


"The Slayer won't survive the Master, you know. Quite the bad ass that one."

"You again."

"You sound like you missed me. I'm flattered."

"Don't be."

"I can help you, but you know what you'd have to do..."



"Alcathla. Now he was a force to be reckoned with. Took an entire army of thousands to take him down. And you think only a handful of you can stop him?"

"We'll manage."

"No weapon forged by man can kill him!"

"Good thing most weapons are made by machines in this day and age, huh?"


"Use to know a woman like Faith. Bit of a cold fish really but when she got warmed up..."

"Shut Up!"


"You do know Faith has betrayed all of you, right?"


"And you're just going to let her get away with it?"



"Because she will show us the Mayor's weakness."

"Huh. Good plan. But you know..."



"That was just wrong."

"You again."

"One of these days you will admit you miss me when I'm not here."

"As if..."


"That First Slayer is such a bitch..."

"Go away!"

Xander pressed the blade to the palm of his hand, threw back his head and screamed,


Spike watched as Xander screamed out the name of one of the ancient gods. He watched in wonder as the black temple appeared before the boy. Spike watched as Xander stood up and walked up the steps of the temple, entering the building.


Xander walked in to the main chamber of the temple, he could see the throne that was sitting on a dais. The throne itself was black marble with red velvet on the back and seat. The dark god who owned the temple had a leg thrown over the arm of it. Xander watched as Ares, the God of War, drew a sharpening stone down the blade of the sword he was holding. Xander stood before the god, "You know why I'm here."

"Yeah, it seems that pesky little blonde off-ed herself."

Xander growled at the god's disrespect but kept silent otherwise. Ares put down the sword and stood up. He walked down the couple of stairs to stand in front of Xander.

Spike slipped into the temple. He kept to the shadows, watching as Xander talked to the god and wondering how the boy knew the War God.

"The Hellmouth needs protection." Xander told the god.

"And I should care, why?"

"If the hellmouth is ever opened the world gets over run by demons. And somehow I doubt that they would worship you. After all, it was because of the Olympian Gods that the Old Ones were banished, right?"

Ares looked a bit surprise but pleased at this, "You've been reading again, haven't you," he stated with a grin. Xander just stared at he god, who in returned sighed after a moment, "Again, why should I care."

"If you can provide the protection the Hellmouth needs...I'll break the vow."

Ares froze. He looked into Xander's eyes, " mean that."

Xander nodded, "I'll become the Champion of War...

Spike was barely able to contain his hiss of shock. There were many legends about the one who would become the Champion of War. From what Spike had read and the stories whispered in the Underground, when the Champion of War took up their mantle this would herald in a new age...or send the world into darkness.

Ares was hard pressed to contain his glee...A Champion...and this one...The Powers That Be must be kicking themselves over this..."Kneel and make your pledge to me..."

Xander knelt and thought for a moment. He had to speak carefully. Any thing Xander said he would be bound by...Xander squeezed the palm that he had cut earlier making the wound bleed, again, "I, Alexander, swear by the blood of my line... for as long Ares, God of War, offers protection to the Hellmouth and those who champion it. My service and loyalty are his to command, this I so swear." Xander turned his hand and let the blood drip; it sizzled when it hit the floor of the temple.

Ares held a hand to Xander's heart and let power flow threw the young man to cement his claim on Xander. Xander closed his eyes and swayed under the flow of knowledge that came to him. Knowledge of War, of battle, of death...of the true history of the world, human and demonic, he opened his eyes and stared at his god.

"Rise, My Champion..."

When Xander stood, he was changed forever it was reflected by the outfit his god had flashed on him. Doc Martens black, of course. Tight black jeans cut so he could fight in them comfortable, a black wife beater shirt and the long leather trench coat completed the outfit. Along with many weapons hid on Xander's person. Xander looked down at himself then back up at the god.

"Why I'm I dressed like a cross between Deadboy and Spike?"

Ares reached out and drew a finger down the edge of the leather trench coat that his champion wore.

"What can I say? I have a thing for having my champions dressed in leather." The god murmured softly. He then leaned close to his champion as he whispered, "You will serve me faithfully, this I know..."

Xander nodded.

Ares smiled, "Kill the vampire in my temple."

Xander blinked at the statement. He pulled the sword that was holstered in the sheath strapped to his back. Xander gave the sword a couple of experimental swings. The tip of it stopped just under Ares chin barely touching the god's beard.

"The will of Ares be done..."Xander said. Ares gentle moved the tip of the sword away with a finger. Then made a 'shooing' motion at his champion.

His champion.

Those two words were not going to get old any time soon. Ares thought.



No, this shouldn't happen.


This was the wrong thing to do.



The word repeated over and over in Spike's head as he watched the change come over the boy. Could see how different Xander was already simply by the way the boy held himself. Spike wanted to move, wanted to take Xander away, far away. When Spike heard the god say, "Kill the vampire in my temple." He let out a low hiss.

Spike knew he was screwed.

Xander turned to where he had heard a low hiss. He wondered what kind of moronic vamp would walk in to a temple that was so obviously that of the God of War's. It didn't make any sense unless the thing had followed him from the graveyard. But Xander thought that the magics that he used to summon Ares would have drove the vamp off.

Oh, well, he thought with a shrugged.

Spike felt the barest movement of air and ducked at the swing of the sword. The shadows cast on the walls by the torches also helped him see Xander's approach. The sword slammed into the pillar he had been hiding behind. "Oi, whelp! Stop!"

Xander froze, his sword raised to swing again. "Spike? What the hell are you doing here?"

Spike sighed in relief. Xander was going to talk to him and not kill him out right, "The girls were worried." Spike saw the frown come to the boy's face. Spike thought that maybe Xander was going to kill him, just not yet.

Xander let the sword drop with a sigh, "I'm fine. Go away." Turning away from the vampire. Spike grabbed the boy by his elbow stopping him.

"FINE!" Spike said incredulously, "You just made a deal with one of the most dangerous of the old gods, and you say, your fine?"

"I know what I'm doing, Spike. Just go."

"Yah, cause deals like this always work out so well."

Xander opened his mouth to answer when a dark voice spoke from behind them.

"I thought I said to kill the vampire."

Xander turned to see Ares leaning on a pillar braced on his forearm.

"Not this vampire. He fights for the projection hellmouth." Xander said ignoring the face Spike made at that.

Ares looked at them both for a long moment before muttering, "At least it's not a peasant girl with delusions of being a bard..." before disappearing in a flash of blue-ish light.


Spike followed Xander as they left Ares' black temple. All the while muttering under his breath about how only Xander 'freaking' Harris made deals with the old gods and just be 'fine' as a result. This was the same person who also dated an ex-vengeance demon and listened to her stories of male humiliation and torture with a shrug. Some of the stories had even made Spike flinch once or twice.

Xander sighed. Knowing that he would not get rid of the vampire any time soon unless he explain. "Go ahead."

Spike looked confused.

"Ask." Xander told him.

Spike lit up a cigarette nodding it wouldn't do to play dumb right now. Not if he wanted any answers anyway. "What the FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!!!" Spike exploded. "You of all people know how these things end!"

Xander sighed and scratched the back of his neck, "Look without Buffy we have no way to guard the Hellmouth successfully. You know that."

"We have the bot." Spike told him quietly.

Xander glared at the blond. Like that was going to happen, Xander thought with a snort. "Spike there is no way I'm putting the safety of the Hellmouth in the hands of your sex toy!"

Spike at that looked a bit embarrassed. The Buff-bot had not been one of his most brilliant ideals. And very one of the Scooby's let him know it. Dawn had been the took weeks for his hair to grow back.

"Look Spike, right know none of the others are in any shape to do anything but grieve. Giles is to lost in the bottle...he's been going over all the Watchers journals he has looking for ways he could have..." Xander trailed off. Both he and Spike knew that no other Slayer had ever come up against anything like Glory in the past. "And Willow, her searching in all of the magic books for way...she's convinced that Buffy is trapped in some hell dimension!"

Spike nodded he had heard Red whispering something like that to Glenda, but he hadn't known that Xander had heard it too. "Yeah, it's bad. But we could have called the Poof. You didn't need to make a Faustian deal!"

"Do you really want Angel in town?" Xander asked as he tiredly ran a hand over his face.

Spike shook his head, "But if..."

"No, Spike. No, what if...I did think about this, you know. I've done nothing but think about this for years! I just had no good reason to except Ares's offer before now. And yes, I do know that somewhere down the road this choice I made, will more than likely bite me in the ass."

"You should have said something to the me about this before running off and becoming the bloody God of War's goddamned Champion!"

"Oh, yeah I can see how that conversation would have gone... 'Hey guys, Ares the Olympian god of WAR has been hound members of my family to be his champion. He starts coming around when we come of age. How old, you ask? Oh I was fifteen when I meet him the first time. He asked me to become his champion shortly after the Harvest thing a few years ago. He bugs me a few times a year. Yeah, Spike that would have gone over well.

When Buffy decided to take her dive off that tower. I thought this was the perfect time to take Ares up on his offer. And thus being the first to break the vows that those of my bloodline have upheld faithfully for centuries!" Xander said harshly before walking away from the stunned vampire.


Ares sat on his throne slowly he drew the sharping stone down the edge of his sword.

The flash of light filled in his temple with it two figures appeared, one male the other female both had blue toned skin with silver markings and gold colored hair. They were dressed in Greek style their togas a dazzling white. The Oracles, Ares thought with a snort. The want-to-bes. The Oracles had been copying the Olympian style for the last several centuries. The war god sighed at how predicable the so-called 'Powers That Be' actually were.

"What do you think..." the male began.

"...You are doing?" The female finished.

Ares glared, "Stop that! I'm not some mortal to be wowed by you."

The male returned Ares glare. "Answer the question petty god."

Petty god, indeed, thought Ares. What right did this...this middle management have...Calling him that! The Olympian Gods had been around since the beginning. They were the second creations of the Great Maker. The archangels being the first, humans the third and the 'Powers That Be' being the fourth.

"What should have been done long ago. I'm going to clean up your mess."

The male frowned, "You are not even suppose to be on this plane, War God."

Ares smirked, "As long as there is war there will always be a God of War."

"You were not the only God of War." The female said.

"No, but I am the only one that has survived." Ares said darkly. "Many of the petty gods as you call us, chose to retire to the Great Makers realm eons ago. Except for us Olympians and a few others. Wonder why that is?" Ares asked seemingly unconsidered.

The male snorted, "Because the Olympians enter-breed with the mortals to the point of insanity?"

That sounded more like a question to Ares rather than a statement of fact. But it did have some basis, Ares had noticed that the thinner the blood ties to mortals the more willing the other Pantheons had been to leave this realm. Thank the Great Maker for Zeus, Apollo, and Hermes!

"Why have you taken our wild card as your Champion?" the female demanded to known.

Ares had always like the female Oracles. They were straightforward and to the point.

"We had plans for him." Said the male.

Ares leaned forward, bracing his sword on the floor, "Because I gave him a choice... And he said yes."

The Oracles exchanged a look between themselves.

"Free Will is such a bitch, ain't?" Ares told them not bothering to hide the glee in his voice.


Chapter Text

Xander Harris sighed as she opened the box of crystals. She wondered, not for the first time why, she let Rupert Giles, her step-father, talk her into running a Magic Box in Quantico, Virginia. Xander had been running the shop for the last year and to her surprise they were actually making money! Xander had to wonder why because the Magic Box franchise was basically a place employ baby slayers until they were fully trained and could be set loose upon the world. The lay out of the store was similar to the how the store in California had been. There were display cases and book shelves in many places in the store, rows of shelves with items like prayer beads, crucifixes and stars of David. There was a comic book section and fanstasy/sci-fi books. Also kits that taught what most people thought of as popular magic tricks. There was a slayer training room in the back and the basement was being used as a storage room for the stores products.

A pale skinned blonde girl came around a corner, she dropped other box on the counter, she was almost six foot and not yet eighteen. Xander glared at the girl because it was unfair that Kelsey could reach the top shelves in the store without a step-stool unlike Xander. Xander was barely five foot three and even then? Only if she wore high heels.

"I'm going on my break, Xan." Kelsey said.

"Seriously? Now? We still have stock to put out."

"Have Andy to it. The witch never does anything around here."

"She's renewing the wards to the store right now."

"I'm a slayer. Not a shop girl," Kelsey snapped in her clipped British accent, a cold look in her blue eyes, "I don't even want to be here."

Xander prayed for patients. She was getting tried of dealing with these slayer brats. At least the girls that had been called right after Sunnydale because a sinkhole, understood that they were the last line of defense for humanity. These newer ones all thought they should have all the perks of being a slayer and none of the responsibility of one. Xander blamed the natural entitlement the slayer spirit had.

"Kelsey, I don't ask you to do anything that I haven't asked the others to do or haven't done myself. You are being paid a good wage...earn it." Xander told her.

"As if I need it."

That was the problem. Kelsey was from old money in England. It was the reason she was here and not in Cleveland with Faith. The dark slayer had no patients with snobby rich girls. Xander didn't either but Buffy had sent Kelsey because Xander got all of the problem children.

"I'm not having this argument with you again. You can start pulling your weight here at the store and in patrol. I know you have been skipping them. You are lucky, Derek Hale and his mates were willing to take up the slack."

"Kelsey made a disgusted noise, "Why do you let that werewolf and those freak shows stay-"

Xander slammed a crystal onto the glass counter top hard enough to cause the glass to crack in a spider web pattern, "Enough! You are walking a dangerous line. Go on your damn break and when you get back you will finish putting up the stock by yourself."

Kelsey opened her mouth, but Xander cut her off.

"If you have a problem with it? I can and will send you back to England. I will also inform Giles," Xander watched as the blonde girl went pale at the name, "that you are untrainable." That was the term used for Slayers and magic users that were trained by the International Watcher's Council when they because mentally unstable or dangerous.

With an angry look Kelsey stormed out of the store nearly knocking over a couple of customers that were walking through the door. One was a lithe young man with ash brown-blonde wavy hair, he had skin so pale if it hadn't been day time Xander would have mistake him for a vampire and he also had bright hazel brown eyes with dark shadows under them as if he needed more sleep than he was getting. Strange though it didn't take away from his attractiveness. He was dressed in the absent minded sexy professor chic. The woman had pale blonde hair with hot pink streaks running through it, her emerald colored eyes wearing pink rimmed glasses. She was curvy and wore a brightly colored multi-patterned flowing dress with flowers on it.

"Stop being such a stick in the mud, Reid. I've heard good things about this store. It will be fun to get your cards here." The woman said.

"I could get them cheaper at Wal-Mart, Garcia." the man called Reid told her.

"Stick in the mud," Garcia sing-songed. Reid only got a long suffering look on his face.

"Welcome to the Magic Box. I'm Xander, How can I help you?" Xander greeted them. The greeting was in fact two toned, one for simple customers looking for fake magic items and the others for those in the know. Xander, was quite the name un the Underground. Xander and the other from Sunnydale have become so, yet the kids from Beacon Hills were gaining a reputation as well. It was the only reason Xander let Derek Hale and his mates help her out on patrols

"Polite," Garcia said with a grin, "I'm Penny and this handsome fella," grabbing on to his arm affectionately, "is Spencer. My friend is looking for cards."

Xander walked out from behind the counter, "Tarot, playing or comic," she snapped out, she paused giving Spencer a look, "or gaming? I prefer Yugioh myself," sighing out, "My love for Seto Kaiba is forever." Xander noticed the expression on Penny and Spencer's faces. "What?"

"I would have taken you a Joey Wheeler girl." Spencer said with a slight nervous smile.

Xander shook her head, "Smart, snarky and sassy have always been my weakness."

Penny laughed, "Glad to meet a sister geek. What are your opinions on Dr. Who?"

"River Song is made of win."

Spencer made a face, "She's a brain-washed sociopath assassin."

"No one is perfect." Xander said with a shrug.

"Yeah, Reid, you can't fight the awesome that is River Song." Penny sassed at Spencer.

Spencer rolled his eyes, "I liked Clara better. So, which doctor is better? Nine, Ten or Eleven?"

Xander tilted her head in thought then said, "Twelve," firmly.

"Seriously?" Penny asked, confused. "He's old!"

"Have you heard that man speak?" Xander asked, "His voice gives me shivers," with a small mock tremble.

"Okay, point," Penny agreed," He is something of a silver fox."

Xander laughed, "So what kind of cards do you need?" She asked Spencer.

"Regular playing cards."

"Reid can do magic!" Penny said, gleefully.

"Really?" Xander asked intrigued. Spencer didn't look like the type.

Spencer shook his head, "I mostly know some slight of hand tricks, that's all."

"Well, I've heard that sort of thing can be usefully." Xander said remember when a few well done slight of hand tricks had saved her life in the past. "You're in luck, the playing cards are on sale. Somehow they got over ordered. I'll show you where they are."

Spencer shook his head, "No, that's okay. I'll find them myself."

"You sure?"

Spencer nodded.

"There towards the back of the store next to the coffin. If you see the restroom sign you've past them."

"Coffin?" Spencer asked.

Xander grinned, "It used to belong to a friend's ex-boyfriend."

Penny giggled at Spencer's expression has he slowly made his way through the store. Once he was out of sight Xander turned to Penny and asked, "Tell me you are climbing that cutie like a tree."

Penny blinked, then laughed out loud, "No, it's not like that with me and Reid. We work together."

"What do you do?"

"We work at Quantico."

Xander narrowed her eyes, "FBI or the Marines," she asked mostly because she had dealing with both before.

"The FBI." Penny said, shortly.

Xander recognizing the signs of someone not wanting to talk about their job changed the subject to, "I noticed the pendent you're wearing. We have some similar pieces in our jewelry case."

Penny nodded and wander over to the case just as a Hispanic girl with her dark hair in small tight braids, walked into the room, "I'm going on break."

Xander shook her head, "You can't Kelsey went on hers, Andy."

"Are you kidding me! I got here before she did and was suppose to go twenty minutes ago I was just finishing up the-" Andy broke off when she noticed Penny at the jewelry counter, "Stocking in the basement. I don't get paid enough for this bullshit, Xander!"

"Then go work somewhere else." Xander said, flatly.

"You are the boss, be one!"

Xander sighed, "Get out of my store, Andy."

Andy smiled smugly, "Love you, Xan," she said as she headed for the front door.

"Bring me back a caramel latte!" Xander yelled.

"Will do boss-lady!"

Xander noticed Penny and Spencer had walked up to the front counter, "I hate being the adult." she muttered then louder as she walked back behind the counter to them asked, "Did you find everything?"

Spencer nodded and laid four packs of cards on the table as well as a pack of D.C. comic cards. "How long have you worked here, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Feels like forever. My step-father owns the Magic Box franchise. We have a store in Cleveland, Ohio, two in England, his homeland and another in Italy besides this one. I started in the one he opened in California but it closed due to a sinkhole."

Penny's eyes widened, "A sinkhole?"

"Yeah, the whole town was swallowed up by it about ten years ago." Xander told them as she rang up Spencer's card's on the old push button cash register. Spencer gave her the money for them when she told him the price and gave him back his change. "This store as been here for about two years now and I took it over a year ago."

"Do you like it? Running a shop?" Spencer asked, interested.

Xander shrugged, "It's not bad," she said while she bagged his things, "More profitable than I thought it would be and the customers are always a hoot." She handed Spencer the bag with the cards as he reached for it she pulled it back, "So, would you like to go for coffee sometime?"

Spencer blinked looking confused, then over at Penny, who only shrugged at him, then asked, "Me?"

"As pretty as Penny is," Xander said handing the bag back to Spencer and he took it almost but not quite clutching it to his chest, "yeah, you."

"A date?" Spencer murmured.

Like not one ever asked him out on dates. Which if that was the true? People were dumb asses. Xander thought.

"He says yes!" Penny said with a gleeful bounce.


"Reid, she seems nice and she's a business owner and very pretty!" Penny rambled out quickly. "I'll do the background check for you! It make you feel safer!" Penny turned to Xander and said, "His last few dates turned into kidnappings."

"Totally understand." Xander said. "There's a coffee shop right cross the street. How about Thursday?"

"Hum, my job..." Spencer mumbled.

Xander pulled out her cell phone from her back pocket, "Let's exchange number's and if something comes up just text me and we can do it another time."

"Okay," Reid said, shyly.

Once they exchanged numbers Spencer and Penny left the store Xander smiled to herself. Hopefully she would have a coffee date with a cute guy. Maybe this could be the start of a new romance and if not? Well, she would have at least made a new friend.

Xander would just have to see how the coffee date went.

Chapter Text

City Of Delphi...

Ancient Greece

"...Damn it," Joxer muttered as he walked through the streets of Delphi, the chest piece of his armor clanking together annoyingly. He really should replace it with some thing better, but he liked the fact that because of it, people underestimated him. True, he wasn't the best fighter. Compared to people like his brother, Xena or Hercules? Who would be?

Joxer had been disappointed that he missed the Festival of Dionysus. Joxer had heard that the orgies that Wine God threw were better than the ones that took place in Aphrodite's temples. He had been hoping to parsitapate and lose his virginity. It was distressing to be almost twenty-four and to have never had a lover of either gender. Sure, he thought he was in love with Gabrielle... No, he was. He was positive, he was... but the feelings seemed to fade when Joxer wasn't around her. Yet, he was planning to court Gabrielle to see if there was something really there...Joxer hoped so.

Of course, if that didn't work out there was always Meg. Though for all of Meg's talk? Joxer was pretty sure Meg didn't like physical affection. Meg had flinched the last time Joxer had just given the Xena-look-alike a hug. This trip might not be a complete lost. He could always go see the Oracle...

Joxer of Corinth,

You travel a path filled with danger...and choices. Save not the maiden, for the Sun will betray you. Great change will come for you but fear not War or Discord and Love will find a way. Trust in the Stone and the Wolf to guide you, With Tranquity, peace will come to Olympus.

Joxer left the temple of Delphi more confused about his future than when he went in. Joxer wondered if it was like that for everyone, who wanted a glimpse of their future? Luckily for Joxer the whole reason he came to Delphi had nothing to do with maidens. In fact a maiden was kind not what he was looking for, Joxer was shaken from his thoughts at the sight of two priest in bright, and slightly gaudy gold colored robes that all of Apollo's priests wore. They were dragging a young, pretty, blonde, girl between them. She was crying and begging to be let go, let me go! No, I don't want to be Apollo's bride!

"What is going on? " Joxer wondered.

It was the old woman standing next to Joxer that answered him, "Bad business that. Those girls keep getting younger and younger."

Frowning, Joxer asked, "What?"

"Apollo," the old woman, spits the name as if it's something foul, "every few years or so, a girl is chosen to be sacrificed to him at dusk."

"They'll kill her?" Joxer asked horrified, human sacrifice was rare for the gods to demand but it did happen if the gods were truly angered.

The old woman laughed, coldly, "If only. No, her fate is much worse. The god will take her. Apollo will ruin her. As he has countless others. The poor thing won't be able to bare a man's touch once he gets through with her."

"You mean he'll..." Joxer trailed off not even able to think it. He knew many of the gods thought nothing of forcing their pleasures on a mortal. He heard the stories...but they had been just that stories. Not to mention Joxer had met several god/goddess in his travels with his friends. For what he had seen? None of them would ever have to force a mortal to bed them. The act was a horrible thing to force on a man or woman, in Joxer's mind. No one had the right to violate the one thing that truly belonged to a mortal. Their body. That's what Joxer believed anyway.

"Yes," the old woman stated.

"How..."Joxer swallowed hard, "How do you know?"

"Because thirty years ago I was her." the old woman said bitterly, before walking away into the crowd.

Joxer looked up at the sun, he glance back at the priests dragging the girl into Apollo's temple, it was two hours until dusk. He was sure that was enough time to come up with a plan.

Wasn't it?

Joxer paced in the shadow of the temple. He had ditched his armor so he wouldn't make any noise. He was still mostly plan-less except for the 'save the girl,' part of it. Joxer had about thirty minutes until dusk...this was not good. He thought about what his friends would do and he couldn't do any of that...except maybe talk his way out of things... but no,-the priest from what Joxer could see they had already moved the girl into the main chamber of the temple. Joxer could hear their chants from where he was in the shadows. If Joxer was going to act at all? It was going to have to be soon. Just then a priest walked out of the temple and headed to the tree line. Joxer watched for a moment before following after him quietly.


Momma should have warned me there would be days like this, Teris thought as she twisted, testing the ropes that kept her bound to Apollo's alter. She should have known the handsome blonde man that took an interest in her was bad news. She had heard the rumors, she was the right age now...she just never thought... this is the last time I will ever trust a pretty face, I swear it by Zeus! Teris whimpered in fear and twisted the ropes on her wrists.

Teris noticed one of the gold clad priests with the hood of his robe up over his head, walking up behind the other three that were kneeling infornt of the alter. The priest quickly hit spots of two of the priest necks, causing them to fall to the floor the third priest looked up in time to get punched in the face and, he too, hit the floor.

The man pushed the hood from his head. He step up to the alter, pulling a dagger from his sleeve, "Come on," he said as he began to cut through the ropes, "I gotta get you out of here."

"Who are you?" Teris asked, sitting up rubbing her wrists. The man had light, short brown hair, pale skin and had a lean body type. He wasn't handsome but he was interesting to look at.

He gave her a sharp look before he said, "Some one that couldn't let this happen," he helped Teris off the alter.

"I meant your name," The man smiled brightly at her, and oh, Teris was going to have to re-think that whole thing about him not being handsome...

"It's Joxer. Let's get out of here!"

Teris nodded, "I'm all for that. I'm Teris."

"Nice to meet you, Teris." Joxer greeted her.

Teris followed Joxer out of the main chamber of Apollo's temple, down some steps until they were in the court yard. Running they made it to the end of it before Apollo's guards started to run after them.

"Why are you stopping?" Teris asked, when Joxer stopped suddenly throwing off the gold robe, as he pulled a sword from a sheath he was wearing under it, from his hip.

"Because someone has to stop them," Joxer said pointing the sword at the guards, "Until you get somewhere safe or out of Delphi!"

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine," Joxer said, Teris heard the slight shake in his voice, and thought Joxer, all the braver for it. Teris gave him a quick kiss on the cheek,

"For luck," she said before racing off into the darken streets of Delphi.

Joxer blinked barely bringing up his sword in time to block an on coming sword....

Block, block

Retreat a step, thrust, parry

parry, no-fool dodge!

Block, block, punch the guy in the face-yes!

No, no, too many, many, thrust, thrust, dodge...

Joxer paused, warily looking around for more opponents...and there were none. Huh? I won? He thought confused, but yes, all of Apollo's guards were on the ground. Joxer scratched the side of his head. He hadn't fought that good since the bell thing with Aphrodite happened. Xena said he had it in him... Maybe this meant he was a hero, now?

Joxer turned to leave, a large hand, was suddenly wrapped around his throat cutting off his air supply. Causing Joxer to drop his sword and struggle against the hand holding him. Looking up, Joxer almost lost what little breath he had at the sight.

The man...err no, god, had hair the color of sun light and gold colored eyes, he had a warriors build, and the strong thick arms of an archer as well as sun tanned skin. Around his neck he wore a gold torque with sliver half moons, a gold vest with his symbol of the sun and tight gold pants that left little to the imagination. The god was prettier than Aphrodite and far more handsome than Cupid...he even rivaled Ar- the hand tighten more around Joxer's throat. This had to be Apollo, Joxer thought vaguely.

"You are so going to regret," Apollo hissed, darkly, "your actions this day, mortal."

Joxer's last thought before everything went dark was, at least the girl got away.

One Week Later...

The young woman appeared in a flash of light, the voice of an enraged god echoing in her head, causing her to fall to her knees, startling many of the citizens of Thrace. The appearance of gods showing up out of nowhere while not common place was not too unusual. Getting to her feet the woman made her way to the nearby temple, stumbling through the doors, the moment they closed behind her...she could no longer hear the angry god's voice calling out threats anymore. She leaned against the door for a moment, letting out a sigh of relief. Before going over to the throne that sat in the middle of the room and collapsing on it. Hopefully she would be safe here...


Darius leaned against the stone wall of the temple. He reached down to rub his right knee, ever since he injured two years ago, the damned thing always ached. Darius stepped into the antechamber of the temple. This was not the life Darius thought he would have...being the High Priest of Ares main temple in Thrace but it was a good one. For that Darius gave a quick prayer to Aphrodite that he had his beloved Pillar once more. Darius looked around the room to make sure everything was in order for the afternoon prayers. He straightened his dark blue, red and purple robes, the marks of Ares were stitched in silvery-gray threads decorating it.

The shrines to Discord and Mischief were in diffent corners of the temple were neat and tidy, their offerings lined up in rows in front of the shrines. The alter had a clean red cloth on it as well as a couple of ornate swords while pretty to look at were actually unusable for battle but had had been the offering from the king so they had to be displayed for a few weeks at most, the naked woman on Ares throne...wait, what? Darius blinked sure he couldn't have seen...

No, there really was a naked woman on Ares throne. Her shoulders were shaking and Darius could hear her sobbing, slowly he made his way over to her. Darius could see her pale skin had small wounds that looked to have been made with a knife on her arms and legs, she had welts on her back that still bled and she was covered in a mired of bruises. Her long light brown hair was tangled and matted with dirt and blood,

"Miss?" Darius asked, softly.

The woman jerk sharply almost falling off the seat of the throne where she was curled up as tight as she could get. She's beautiful, was Darius first thought, his next was, and not human. Even as injured, bruised and blood covered as the woman was she had an otherworldly glow that only the Gods had too them. Darius's time in Ares service had caused him to see more than one of the Gods and a couple immortals. Frightened bright eyes, the color of iceles in the middle of winter, gazed at Darius.

"Can I help you, miss?"

She answered with a crazed laugh, "No one can help me!" She looked around the temple, "I-I had to get away...he-he wa-was..."she covered her mouth with her had to keep back a sob, "Why-why did he-he...What did Apollo do to me!" Her words ended in a shout before she once more covered her mouth.

This is so beyond my pay grade, Darius thought. He wondered how he was going to deal with an hysterical goddess, one who was running from Apollo of all gods. Darius sighed, pushing a hand through his short blonde hair, "Miss, why don't you let me take you into Ares private rooms. You can get cleaned up and rest. I'll get you something to wear and some food? Afternoon prayer will be starting soon and you can't stay here."

The goddess looked like she was going to refuse or worse, run. Then she reached out a hand and caressed Darius's cheek, her fingers gliding down his smoothly shaven cheek. Darius had shaved because Pillar preferred that rather than the full beard he had sported for years, he loved that woman but Hades take him if he ever understood her. Darius frowned at the itch in the back of his mind. It was familiar. Ares would do something similar to get information from him when the god was in a hurry. It didn't hurt. But it was always an unsettling feeling.

" won't hurt me." The goddess murmured, "you would never do that to a woman. You're a good man," she said her eyes widening at the statement. Darius blinked at the feeling of peace, more peace than he had known in years, even with his beloved Pillar by his side. Settled over him. Darius wondered if the goddess had even known what she had granted him? Darius took off his outer priest's robe and handed it to the goddess. She took it from him and wrapped it around herself. Darius held out a hand, "Come, you must be tired."

The goddess gave him another searching look before taking it and standing up.


Darius closed the door to Ares' private quarters. He had gotten a couple novices priestess' as well as Pillar's to help bath the unknown goddess and requested food to be brought to her. Once those things were done, the others left and Pillar gave him a look that said she expected to be told everything later about this. Darius left the goddess sleeping on the bed in Ares' chambers. He walked down the hall to the guest chambers and went into one of the rooms. Wondering how he was going to word his prayer?

Lord Ares? I hate bothering you, but about hour ago I found an unknown goddess curled up on your throne...she looked as if she had been tortured and is leery of anyone touching her...I don't know if you are missing any of your brethren... Darius prayer was cut off at the sound of displaced air and a brilliant white-blue light, with red sparks filled one corner of the room.

The god was tall with dark hair that fell in waves around his ears the length stopped just beneath them, his skin was a the healthy color of one who spend long hours training under the hot sun. The gods eyes were dark, dark, brown, wary and...tired. His black leather armor was blood covered in places, before he waved a hand, it was replaced by cleaner, black leather boots, pants, and a soft white linen shirt covered by a black leather vest with silver metal accents.

"Darius, if you were not one of my favorite priests I would blast you back to your creation," Ares growled, "I don't have time for this. Apollo is tearing up Greece looking for something and he won't tell the rest of us what he's looking for...the battle on the west side of Athens is beginning to annoy me. Discord decided now was the time to go on vacation with her Favorite...Strife won't crawl out of my son and his wife's bed long enough to be useful... I'm swamped, Darius. So this better be important."

"I think I may know what...or who it is Apollo is looking for..." Darius said slowly, "Let me show you," Darius said leading Ares from the room and back down the hall to the room where he had left the unknown goddess.

"You put an unknown god in my private chambers, Darius?" Ares asked raising a dark brow, at the priest.

"It was the safest place I could think of, my lord."

Ares pushed open the door and walked into the room, up to his bed where the goddess lay curled up under a thick black wolf fur. Ares knew her to be a goddess, an Olympian goddess, by her aura. Yet, Ares didn't know her... and he should. He knew all the gods and goddess as well as their powers. He never knew when one would become his enemy. Ares reached out and smoothed a lock of tawny hair out of out the pretty goddess's face. By Zeus she was something to look at. Not that Ares was swayed by mere beauty. Ares had bedded many a beautiful goddess as well as the most beautiful of all, Aphrodite. A small hand grabbed Ares wrist, the goddess's eyes opened... they were the crystallized eyes of a new born made god.

Yes, she was defiantly what his brother was looking for, because when their father found out? Apollo was going to be so grounded.

"Who are you?" Ares asked, coursity.

After the many times we have met, am I so different that even my own god does not know me? Ares heard the prayer echo in his head. While any mortal could pray and be heard by any of the gods, it was rare for a god to hear the prayer of another god. Though the gods could talk to each other mind to had a different feel from a prayer.

"Do I..." Ares paused as the goddess began to hum a simple tune but one that had made more than one hero and god want to tear off their ears in self-defense. "...Joxer!?" Ares said in shock, the young man had been dedicated to him as a child. Joxer was one of his... Ares began to grow angry..."Who did this to you?"

Joxer's eyes filled with tears, "Apollo. Why did he do this to me!" She exclaimed as heartbreaking sobs where torn from her throat. Ares pulled the newly made goddess into his arms.

"Show me, Joxer, show me what Apollo did to you," Ares whispered as he ran a hand through Joxer's long dark hair.


Joxer never knew that a person could suffer so much pain. Sure he had seen his father and brother inflict it on others but never to the extend that Joxer had suffered so far. They usually killed them before then. Blood pooled around his bare feet...he wasn't sure if a human could lose that much blood and survive. It was something Joxer wasn't sure he wanted to do anymore. Survive, that is. For the last three day's Apollo's priest had beaten, whipped, and starved him. He had been denied food and sleep.

"Do you know the months, no, years of planning you ruined for me, little man?" Apollo hissed at him. For the most part the Sun God had let his priests do the dirty work but the god had watched everything with a sharp eye. No, Apollo hadn't touched Joxer. Apollo liked to talk mostly about himself. Joxer would rather be tortured some more rather than listening to the god.

I'm sure he'll tell me all about it, Joxer thought, not like I can go anywhere.

Joxer had tried praying to Cupid and Aphrodite for help, hell, he had even tried Ares...but got nothing.

"Will you stop that!" Apollo growled, "Your prayers are useless. My temple is shielded from the other gods. They can't hear you! And even if they could? They can't get into my temple.

Well, there went that hope. Joxer thought, out loud he said, "You were telling me about the plans I messed up?"

Apollo glared at him, "That girl," he hissed, "I was going to make her a goddess. She was going to come my wife and bare me godly children." He stepped closer to Joxer until his mouth was at Joxer's ear, "Shall I tell you a secret, little man?"

"Sure, I'd love to heard your villainous monologue."

Apollo grabbed Joxer by the hair yanking his head back. "Careful, your bordering on insult."

"Only bordering?"

Apollo ignored that, and continued, "The Goddess of Prophecy and Destiny told my Oracles that an innocent would be the one to bare my children. Teris was an innocent." Apollo paused, a thoughtful look coming to his face, "I've asked the other gods about you. Cupid had the most to say about how, innocent, you are." Apollo ran a hand down Joxer's chest. Joxer flinched away at the touch or tried too.

"Come on, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Not knowing the touch of another or the pleasure on can share with someone else."

The gleam of something in the god's eyes worried Joxer, "A trait which we share it seems. I've heard you don't have much luck with women or men either."

A dark look flashed across the golden god's face, "I'm the most beautiful of the gods! I surpass even the Goddess of Love and Beauty herself! No on can resist me!"

"Yet, Artemis has." Apollo's obsession with his sister, the Moon goddess was well known even to the mortals. Many Gods and mortals alike had mocked Apollo with it before. So it wasn't a surprised to Joxer when Apollo slammed Joxer's head back against the stone wall of cell, the god hissing out,

"Do not speak her name!" Apollo snarled before flashing out of the cell.

Joxer let out a sigh of relief.


A few days later Joxer was dragged out of the cell and into Apollo's presence in the main chamber of the temple, by Apollo's priests. Apollo sat on his golden throne, looking bored. Joxer was thrown on the ground before him. Joxer sat up with a cough.

"That doesn't sound good," Apollo muttered as he snapped his fingers. A silver goblet appeared in front of Joxer. Joxer gave it a wary look. Apollo sighed, and the goblet floated over to him. Apollo took a drink from it. "It's only water," he said before sending it back to Joxer.

Joxer grabbed the goblet and drank from it greedily.

"Slowly, you don't want it coming back up," Apollo said softly, "You've had nothing on your stomach for almost a week now, little man."

Who's fault is that? Joxer wanted to scream at the god. When his stomach started to cramp painfully Joxer wondered if he should have drank the water more slowly? A strange itching at his chest started and his muscles began to ache as if they had been over used. Joxer's head began to spin and he started to feel foggy and tired. Joxer looked down at the goblet blinking, "What did you giver me?"

Apollo shrugged, "Just a knew creation of mine. It will turn a man into a theory."

"Theory?" Joxer gasped out, his voice sounding husky but not as deep as normal as the aches turning into stabbing pains. Though that pain light compared to the fire his cock was on...

Apollo nodded, "You are the first human I've tested it on. The tests went well with the pigs." Apollo stood and walked to Joxer, he reached out and caressed Joxer's pale cheek. "I decided your punishment, little man, is to take the place of the girl you saved." Apollo grinned darkly, "You will bare me many, many, children."

Before Joxer could comprehend what was happening to him, Joxer thankfully passed out from the pain.


When Joxer regained awareness, he found himself tied to Apollo's alter. To Joxer's horror he was also naked, he looked down at his, still injured from the torture he had suffered, body, well, his new body anyway. Joxer's skin was a pale much like his male body had been and he wasn't as thin as before but had actually hips where Joxer hadn't before. Joxer wondered if his ass was bigger? It had been small and compacted but well shaped before. If the girls of Meg's place were to be believed. He also had breasts.

Joxer had breasts.

He had breasts!!! Joxer took a deep breath, they weren't too big nor small. They would fill a man's hands well with little excess to them. Joxer flinched when he saw his sex...the place where his cock should have been...but wasn't. "My cock is gone," he asked himself stupidly because it was obvious that it was gone! Only dense dark hair much like before just without his cock! Joxer couldn't stop the distressed sob that came from his lips.

Apollo came into his view holding a golden goblet. He grabbed Joxer by the chin and forced the goblet to Joxer's lips. Pouring the liquid that was in the goblet into Joxer's mouth swallow or choke. "Oh, quit fighting. I'm trying to make you a goddess." Apollo said after forcing what was left in goblet into Joxer's mouth then made the goblet vanish.

Apollo walked to the end of the alter and looked at Joxer, he eyes going from Joxer's face to his breasts, flat stomach, to stare at Joxer's newly made female sex. Apollo shrugged off his gold vest. Revealing his toned tanned chest and thick archer's arms, with his thumbs he shoved his pants down over his hips. Apollo's cock sprung up fully hard, the tip of it glistening with pre-come.

Apollo crawled up onto the alter, between Joxer's spread legs, he trailed his hands over Joxer's thighs and up to Joxer's breast where he pinched Joxer's nipples hard. Causing Joxer to cry out in pain. Apollo stroked a hand down Joxer's side the way one would sooth a horse with his other Apollo stroke his own cock.

"I haven't told you all of my plan, yet, little man..." Apollo closed his eyes as he pleasured himself, pushing Joxer's thighs part. Joxer shifted uncomfortable at his touch not understanding what he was doing or why. "Since you will become my wife, you should know them."

"Once you have given me enough children?" Apollo's fingers, trailed over Joxer's shaking thigh, to his sex. Apollo dipped his finger into the newly made woman's pussy rubbing the inner walls of it with a light touch, that made Joxer squirm, trying to get away from it.

"I'm going to pull a Zeus and over throw the old man. I am his first born son. I should be the Heir to Olympus not Ares! I should be his favorite! Not Hercules! So you," Apollo's cock brushed against Joxer's inner thigh, leaving a trail of pre-come that felt like it burned Joxer's skin where it touched, "will bare my army!"

"No," Joxer whispered in horror, "NO! NO!"


Ares lost his balance as he was roughly shoved from Joxer's mind. He had asked Joxer to show him what had happened to her.

"Joxer..." he started carefully, for the newly made goddess was in a very fragile state of mind and he had no wish to make it worse but he had to know in order to help Joxer. "Did he- did Apollo..." because if Apollo had raped Joxer? Ares would kill the Sun God he didn't care if by doing so it plunged the world into the darkness forever.

Joxer shook her head, "No. I-hmm, No. My godly powers must have kicked in and I found myself outside of your temple. Before he could do anything more that touch me with his hands."

Ares let out the breath he had been holding. While that wasn't good it wasn't as bad as he feared. "Rest," he told Joxer, "Tomorrow we will go see the Fates-and find out more of Apollo's plans." Because that was something to worry about., "And if there is a way for you to be a man again."

Joxer nodded, settling more deeply into the bed. Ares pulled the wolf fur blankets around Joxer's shoulders. He moved to leave but Joxer's hand shot out and grabbed Ares by the wrist. "St-stay? Pl-please?"

Ares frowned.

"I fe-el safe with you."

No one had ever said that to Ares before. Not even Dite who knew him best had ever said that to him. War was not safe. This was a fact. But as Ares looked into Joxer's pleading eyes he knew he was not going to refuse her request. It was a simple enough one.

"Okay, move over a bit." Ares said. Joxer did so and Ares sat back down on the bed, "Go to sleep, Joxer. I'll keep watch."

Joxer gave the war god a small smile before closing her eyes. It wasn't long before the goddess was asleep.

Ares leaned over and stroked Joxer's hair, "I promise, I'll keep you safe," he whispered softly.

Darius watched Ares gently comfort the goddess from the doorway, wondering what sort of chaos the coming days would bring for his lord.



Chapter Text

February 2009

Outskirts of L.A.

Cheap Hotel...

"What are you doing here, Uncle Phil?" The question was asked by Xander Harris, the pretty dark haired girl, whom Phil thought of more like family than the people he was actually related to by blood. She was standing in the open door of the hotel, dressed in a man's white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, dark colored jeans and was barefoot. She was looking tired and her brown eyes had an expression in them maker her look a lot older than the seventeen/eighteen that she resembled. Phil could only marvel at how unchanged she was physically. At how she looked the same now as she did almost a decade ago when she graduated.

Blowing up your high school is always a memorable occasion.

Xander stepped back away from the door and walked over to the mini-bar opening it, Phil; followed her inside and closed the door. Xander pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and poured two shots handing one to Phil before tossing the other back in a quick motion. When she looked at Phil that's when he could see it more clearly...Her eyes. It was the same look that was in Romanoff's, Barton' his own. It was that of someone who had seen far too much...lived to hard... lost too much and had been through hell, yet... kept going.

Phil set his shot glass down on the table as Xander curled up on the black and gold striped sofa, "I heard you were at loose ends."

Xander gave a bitter laugh.

In 1999 Spike had died during the battle of Xander's graudating class. Phil remembered the blonde vampire who had worshipped the ground Xander walked on. Xander had been devastated at his death but carried on. Phil thought the girl had recovered from it. He had heard about her other adventures with her friends and family about saving the world.

Then a few months ago he got a call, from Jessica Giles-Ryane, Xander's mother had called Phil, worried about her daughter. Spike it turned out hadn't been dead, but a captive of a government group that had brain washed Spike turning him into an assassin for them...the group had been...well from what Jessica had told him it sound like the group was a small terrorist cell for HYDRA. But Coulson knew that couldn't be possible. HYDRA had been wiped out in the forties by Captain America.

Xander had, from what Jessica said, at time been traveling the US and some other countries, helping Faith Lehane and her husband Dean Winchester, later Angel Investigations, and other assorted supernatural hunter groups. Sometimes helping Jared Parker, with his crusade to take down the Center. And TJ O'Neill and Jack O'Neill for the last three years in a vain attempt to forget Spike.

From what Jessica had told him, too find out Spike hadn't died saving the small town from an evil man. Only too find out otherwise...Now his niece blamed herself for not looking harder for the vampire. Spike, who had been so endoctorated by HYDRA that Xander had staked him in order to free him from the terrorist group.

"I want you to come work for me." Phil told Xander, "Work for SHIELD."

Xander frowned and rubbed her eyes, "Didn't Mom threaten to remove parts of you if you made me that job offer again?"

Phil nodded, ten years ago, Jessica had in fact threatened to tear his balls off and feed them to him. But Jessica was so worried about her daughter, that she had been the one to ask him to make the offer to Xander.

Phil Coulson had seen the hero that Xander was all those years ago.

But Xander hadn't been ready then...or perhaps it was better said SHIELD hadn't been and maybe still wasn't ready for Xander Harris.

"I need a favor."

Xander looked up sharply, "You need a favor?"

Phil nodded.

Xander stared at him for so long Phil was sure the girl was going to refuse then she shrugged and got a far off look on her face, "What the hell," she murmured as her eyes glowed green.



May 2009, Brunete. Spain.

Bruce Banner sighed as he read the article on the back page of the newspaper in almost shouted the words in Spanish script.


It was accompanied by a picture of the Other Guy roaring and smashing a French tank.

After all this time why can't they leave me alone? Banner wondered throwing down the paper. He looked around the small bus station at all the people coming and going and never realizing the monster in their misted. His gaze stopped on a young woman with long dark braided hair, she wore a long black leather trench coat that looked like it had seen better days, a T-shirt with Catwoman on it, dark blue jeans and hiking boots.

While her clothes were dirty they were well worn. Bruce looked down at his own clothes which shown a similar condition. She was carrying a small duffle bag and she was, Banner could admit, very pretty with all the curves a woman was suppose to have where they should be but...she looked pale under her light tan and her cheek bones looked sharp as if she had missed a few more meals than she should have. She was staring at a maginze rack with a disturbed expression.

"Don't do it, Banner." He told himself as he picked up the newspaper and flipped to the front of it. The headline caught his eye, 'INTERNATIONAL WATCHER'S COUNCIL MEMBER STILL AT LARGE...'

The IWC had appeared six years ago, when a small town in California revealed that the supernatural was real via Reality TV. Vampires, Witches, Werewolves, and everything that goes bump in the night and the people who fought them, it seemed made for good TV watching. Most of the world's governments thought it was a hoax but to many people stared to come up dead from blood loss and others became missing. The governments realized it was true and that the IWC had cleaned up Sunnydale.

What really pissed of most of the governments was that the IWC was loosely affiliated with the Bristh and American government.

Banner thought the other governments were stupid for giving the IWC a hard time. The organization had been keeping the supernatural contained quite well. Since some of its' members were in high school when the worst of the shit was going on in Sunnydale.

Banner noticed the picture on the front page of the paper; it was of a blonde woman standing between two brunettes. The brunette on the left was the same woman standing by the maginze rack!

"You are an idiot, Banner." He muttered standing up when he saw the two Spanish police officers walk in and made their way over to the coffee shop. The article never said what the young woman had done...Banner knew the look of some one hunted though. Slowly he strolled over to her stopping just behind her and whispered in her ear, "There are cops in the coffee shop."

"Where else would they be?" she whispered leaning back against him. As the two officers he warned her about came out of the shop with cups. Banner slipped an arm around her waist asking, "What bus are you on?" as he lead her back to where he had been sitting to pick up his own duffle bag. He let her go and picked up the bag.

"The 418 to Madrid. What are you..."

"It you can stand faking being my girlfriend for the bus ride it might help you avoid unwanted attention." Banner knew the police officers weren't looking for the girl but just the wrong thing could bring attention to her...and him. "I hear Madrid is nice this time of year."

The young woman nodded and entwined her fingers with his as she said, "So have I."


Closing his eyes Bruce leaned back in his seat as the bus passed the Brunete city limits sign.

"Xander Harris, by the way."

Bruce opened one eye to look at the girl, "Sorry?"

"My name is Xander." She said with a sight smile. "You helped me so you should know my name at least."

To Bruce that sounded far to trusting. A lesson he learned quickly after the fourth person he tried to help betrayed him to General Ross. But something in the girl's eyes told him that a lie would not sit well with her, "Bruce Banner..." he whispered, trusting someone with his real mane for the first time years.

"It's nice to met you, Bruce." She whispered back to him before settling into her seat and closing her eyes. Bruce looked at Xander for a moment and did the same.


Xander had woken about an hour and a half ago she watched as Banner slept restlessly.

Damn it! she thought. It wasn't fair. The scientist had the same look in his eyes that Jared had when Xander had met the Pretender. That same hunted...haunted look. Xander wondered again for the thousandth time why, just why she let her Uncle Phil convince her to do this. It could blow up massively in her face.

Xander didn't really want to find out if she could take on a Hulk.


July 2009...Somewhere in Spain

Bruce wasn't sure why Xander was still around. She could have gone her own way a long while back. No one had ever stayed...not even before the Other Guy came along in his life. When he asked Xander why she stayed with him, she had told him, "You did me a good deed. I can't leave until I repay it."

Bruce had told Xander about the Other Guy because he had been worried about her safety and to explain why she found him naked and passed out in fields. He didn't want her hurt like Betty Ross had been.

Xander's response to that, "So, you have anger management issues. So does most of the world if you've noticed."

"Most people don't turn in to a big green monster."

"No, they become something much worse."


August 2009...Still somewhere in Spain...

When Uncle Phil told Xander armies would be after Banner...She hadn't thought her uncle meant actual Armies! Also Phil didn't warn he about how much of a bleeding heart Bruce was....

I swear! This is the last time... Xander thought. The people Bruce helps end up being the ones who turn him over to the governments! Xander growled to herself as she drove their get away vehicle out of town with Bruce passed out in the back seat.


October 2009...Ireland

Demon bounty hunters? Thought Bruce as he broke into the building Xander was being kept in. How was this is life again? Oh, yeah when he tested Gamma Rays on himself.

Sometimes Bruce wondered which one of them had the worst life.


November 2009...Canada

Hulk was mad... Hulk no like hurty things that hit him. Hulk roared...

A small fur covered female with glowing green...pretty green eyes...roared back...

Hulk shivered....Hulk was scared. Female scared him!


December 2009...Africa

Bruce had never met a woman who didn't mind roughing it. Xander though seemed to like the hard conditions they sometimes had to live with. Bruce had noticed a few other odd things about Xander. She didn't care about the same things other women her age did and if hit on by men Xander would politely rebuff them...or knock them out depending on her mood.

Bruce thought perhaps Xander preferred women until Xander told him about Spike, her lost lover. Then about Jared who Xander had a short relationship with before helping the man win over his childhood sweetheart.

Xander had drunkenly told him more about her changed timeline so she could save the world and that one of the changes to it was the fact she had a mystical sex change so she could be merged with a Primal (and perhaps demonic) Goddess. Which explained why her eyes glowed a green that was almost radioactive in color, and had fur, fangs and claws. They had yet to come against anything that Xander could not beat.

Bruce knew that was only a matter of time.


January 2010...Geosha.

Xander and Bruce swore to never speak of what was revealed to them on the island Kingdom ruled by Magneto and his Consort. Xander would lose what was left of her mind if she did. Because that? No, just no...


March 2010...Calcutta, India.

"We are being watched." Xander said, looking out the window of their small apartment.

"Aren't we always?" Bruce muttered distractedly, they were use to being watched. It just depended on which government it was and how long it would before they were attacked again.

"Yes, by never this blatantly. " Xander shook her head, "Something is going to happen. And soon if the Street Rats are to be believed."

"Do you?" Bruce asked looking up from his laptop.

Xander shrugged, "They have yet to lie to me. Yet for the right price they will. There are saying many men in suits are asking questions."

"They have to eat somehow." Bruce said as he turned to look back at his computer screen. "And the men in suits always find us."

"Yeah, well I worry more about the Armies they bring with them." Xander said quietly.


Xander watched the dark haired man followed the native Indian girl to the isolated house at the edges of the city. Xander shook her head, if she had told Bruce once she had told him a hundred times. Never take anything at face value. Sometimes Xander wondered just what went on in the good doctors head? Goddess knows he should know that by now.

Xander crept closer to the house she could make out the shadows of men surrounding it. Shadowy type men with weapons following Bruce Banner was never a good combination it always led damage.

On the edge of the wind Xander could hear...

"...Should have got paid up front, Banner." Come from the scientist sardonically. Bruce had a wonderfully dry and understated sort of sense of humor at times.

Xander frowned, there were at least ten to fifteen men inching towards the house. Not exactly an army but close enough to make a platoon. It made her wonder just who sent them. No, one should come after Dr. Bruce Banner with anything less than a total army. Xander moved through the darkness pulling her battle-axe from the harness she wore on her back but she left the blade protectors on it. She didn't want to kill anyone but Xander wouldn't let these people hurt Bruce. Uncle Phil would be so disappointed in her if she did.

Xander hit the nearest black clad man in the back of his head with her axe. In the low light of the moon she could make out the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem on his shoulder. That was odd. Normally SHIELD didn't want you to know who they were or why they were there what with it being a covert-agency and all.

 really need to check in with Uncle Phil more...Xander thought as she took out the next three agents in the same manner as the first man. Xander could see the silhouette of a woman though the curtain covered window. Xander could hear her say,

"You know, for a man who's suppose to avoid sure picked a hell of a place to settle."

Xander grabbed the next Shield agent this one was actually trying to sneak up on her. That was cute. She slammed him into a nearby tree knocking him out as well. When she heard Bruce's response to the woman,

"Avoiding stress isn't the secret."

No, shit. Xander thought, punching out the next agent a female this time that came too close to the house. As Xander slid closer she could hear the amused smirk in Banner's voice when he said,

"You brought me to the edge of the city, smart. I...uhh, assume you have the whole place surrounded?" The bastard sounded like he was trying not to laugh, Bruce knew Xander was out here and knew what she would be doing. He was mean like that.

"Just you and me..."said the woman.

Xander peaked into the window as saw the woman had bright Willow-quse hair and moved like a slayer. Liar, lair... Xander thought as she ties up the next agent she knocked out. Bored now... Really, Phil had said all agents went through a hell of a training course. Phil went on and on about it. Xander hoped Clint was in the trees somewhere he would be the only challenge she'd get it looked like.

"So, who are you?" Was Bruce's next question? Xander frowned at the tone of voice he used.

Is he flirting with her? Xander wondered in disbelief.

"Natasha Romanoff."

The last five agents raised their weapons and inched closer to the house.

Not going to happen. Xander thought.


"You here to kill me, Miss Romanoff? Because that's just not going to work for us." Banner said softly.

For a moment Romanoff wonder why he used the word 'us' but dismissed it. The man had what was the worst case of multiply personality disorder in the history of ever. She shook her head, "I'm here on the behalf of SHIELD."

"SHIELD? How did they find me?" the doctor walked around the room looking at the different things in it.

"We never lost you." Romanoff heard rumors about an agent that was assigned to Banner but that's all they could be not even SHIELD would want someone as close as the rumor said they were to the doctor. "We've kept our distance. Even helped keep other interested a certain General off your scent."

Banner frowned, "Why?"

"Nick Fury seems to trust you. Now you need to come in."

"What if I say no."

Romanoff gave a small smile, "Then I'll persuade you."

"...And what if the Other Guy says no?"

Romanoff shrugged pulling her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, "You've been more than a year without an incident. I don't think you want to break that streak."

Banner paused in front of an old-fashion baby bassinet. With a sad smile he gave it a small push with a finger and watched as is swung back and forth before glancing up at the redheaded agent, "We don't always get what we want..."

Romanoff slowly walked up to the table between them and opened the laptop sitting on it she brought up some files then turned the computer to face Banner. Intrigued he came closer to the table, which Banner could tell made the woman ever so slightly uncomfortable but be ignored her and looked over the files.

"What is that?"

"This is the Tesseract. It has the potential to wipe out the planet."

"What does Fury want me to do? Swallow it?"

"It's been taken. They Tesseract omits a gamma signature that's too weak for us to trace. We want you to help us find it. There is no one who knows gamma radiation better than you. If there was, that's who I'd find." Romanoff told Banner plainly.

"So, Fury's not after the monster?" Banner's disbelief of that was obvious. There wasn't any secret agency or government that didn't want the monster.

"Not that he's told me."

Banner looked down and muttered, "Wants me in a cage..."

Romanoff looked confused at this change in the doctor's otherwise clam demeanor, "No one is going to put you in a..."

Banner slammed his hands down on the table narrowly missing the laptop, "Stop lying!"

At the show of temper Romanoff pulled her gun and pointed at Banner. He inhaled in surprise at how quickly the female agent moved. "I'm sorry..." He said slowly breathing out to clam himself, "That was just mean of me. I just wanted to see what you'd do. Why don't we do this the easy way? I'm a big fan of the easy way." He had put his hands up to show how Romanoff had all the power in this situation, " Where you don't use that so the Other Guy doesn't make a mess and no one ends up dead? Okay...Natasha?"

The Agent looked into Banner's eyes for a long moment before, "Stand down, we're good." Romanoff said into her earpiece, responding to the voice on the other end. her gun steady on Banner. She wondered why he was smiling so soon after the out burst of temper he shown. Suddenly there was a crash and the black clad body of a Shield agent came flying through the open door.

And here the night had been going so well. Natasha thought.

"Just you and me, huh?" Banner asked amusement obvious. Natasha rolled her eyes at him. When a girl between seventeen and eighteen walked through the door dropping and ear piece on to the ground as she said, "Doc, unless it's a potential global catastrophe," she stopped and leaned against the doorway. "I think we should just cut our losses and go."

The girl, Natasha thought, looked like some one took a hyena's skin and painted it on her, the girl's hair started black at the root to chin then turned to a light brown with black spots through out the braid the girl had it in. The skin exposed by the black tank top she wore, was covered in fur in the same shades of color as her hair, though lighter it was almost a blonde-brown in color. At her fingertips were sharp, black claws. Her dark jeans and boots were made in so they could be fought in easily. It was the girl's eyes that were the most attention grabbing, they glowed green in a way that would remind you of how a predator's eyes would.

"I try to avoid those, you know." Banner told the girl, who growled at him in response. Romanoff to notice the fangs that protruded slightly over the girl's lower lip. "You took care of our friends outside, I presume?"

The girl blinked and Natasha tried not to let her amazement show when the fur morphed completely away to tanned skin and dark brown almost black hair, normal human brown eyes and the fangs vanished as well. Could the girl be a mutant?

"Yes, you know, I'm never bored around you. We get to meet so many interesting people. I'm Xander Harris, by the way. And you?" the last was aimed at the red haired woman.

"Natasha Romanoff, Agent of Shield." Banner murmured to Xander causing her sighed heavily at him.

"Did you just take out all the agents out there?" Romanoff asked trying to keep the glee out of her voice. It was so rare to meet another woman who didn't mind showing just what she could do and it would explain why Banner seemed less than stressed. He had back up.

"Seems so."

Romanoff frowned, "Did you kill them?"

"I don't kill humans if I can help it."

The answer wasn't as comforting to Romanoff as it should have been. What was there to kill besides humans? Demons? She wondered on that for a second before shaking the thought away.

"Are you done here, Doc?" Xander asked Banner.

Banner shook his head.

"Come on! Doc! People like them want to put you in a cage." Xander didn't bother to hide the rage in her voice. There had been to many close calls in the last few months for Xander to be comfortable with SHIELD's sudden appearance on the scene. She had been sure she had another year before Phil was ready for Banner to come work for SWORD.

"Weren't you telling me last week I have to start trusting..."

"Oh, now you choose to listen to me!"

"Xander they need help. My help. It's the right thing to do."

Xander sighed and shook head, By the Gods save me from heroes! "So when do we leave."

"She's not going!" Romanoff was almost shocked at the idea, lowering her gun. The breach of protocol alone would give Coulson an ulcer.

Banner looked thoughtful, "Mmm, then I'm not going."

Natasha nodded...wait...what? "What?"

"This as been fun and all but the Doc as spoken. See you around, Red. Or hopefully not." Xander said pushing off the doorway.

Romanoff couldn't let Banner leave and this girl had taken out all the agents sent with Natasha, she really didn't have a choice, did she? "You explain why she's there to Director Fury."

Banner nodded.

"Damn it, Bruce! Don't you have any sense?" Xander complained as she walked over to him.

The smile Banner give Xander was a fond one Romanoff thought as he said, "Come on. You've been complaining about the weather here..."

"When this comes to bite you on the ass I get to say 'I told you so', right?"

Banner nodded at Xander.

"Good, that leaves one thing." Xander said. Natasha sucked in a breath when Xander reached out and hit Banner on the side of the head. " 'That was mean? I just wanted to see what you would do?' Really, Big Guy do I have to explain what you do and don't say when some one is holding a guy on you?"

"It's not like it would hurt me." Banner muttered.

"That's not the point!" Xander hissed.

Banner then asked what the point was and Xander processed to explain that Banner was a moron.

'Why couldn't it have just been me and Banner?' Natasha wondered as she followed the bickering pair out of the house. But she knew things were about to get really interesting...


Chapter Text

Merlin gasped, fists clenching into the furs of the bed clothes as his Arthur's cock slowly sank balls deep into Merlin's well slicked asshole. Merlin hadn't been happy to have been made to Arthur, by the king for saving the prince's life After an assassination attempt. But Merlin wasn't unhappy being the prince's bed mate. Arthur was a kind and generous lover, Arthur always made sure that Merlin was well pleasure. In fact the blonde man took pride in reducing Merlin to a moaning, groaning mess.

When his prince has suggested this new act of pleasure to Merlin he had been unsure but he had liked everything he and Arthur had done up until now. He had no reason to believe this would be any different... and while it had been strange and uncomfortable in the beginning, Merlin felt the sweat running down his forehead, as the pleasure of Arthur's thrusting cock deep in his hole.

Arthur made a deep pleased sound before he began, thrusting cock slowly in and out of Merlin's ass. It wasn't long before the dark haired man under him began to roll his hips back to meet Arthur's thrusts. Arthur gripped Merlin's hips tightly as if he was afraid that the young man would try to get away if he didn't keep a tight hold on him. His thrusts turned almost harsh as Arthur began to pump his hips viciously into the tight clinch of Merlin's hole.

Merlin had been nothing but a tease for the last few days. Arthur had been ecstatic when his father had given the young man to him to be his bedmate. He had wanted the dark haired young man from the moment Merlin had back talked him. No one else had ever done such an thing. It had been very arousing to have someone stand up to him in such away.

Merlin moaned as Arthur struck something deep inside of him that cause his vision to whiteout from the pleasure. Arthur's thrusts picked up speed becoming more intent as he chased after his own pleasure.

Arthur hissed lowly at the tight squeeze of Merlin's ass around his cock. One of Arthur's hands slid around Merlin's hip and down to the dark haired man's nicely sized cock. Arthur grasped it firmly Stroking it in his hand tightly, causing the man under him to groan softly at the touch. Arthur began to stroke the other man's cock in time to his thrusts.

"You like that, Merlin? Do you like your prince's hand around your cock or my cock," Arthur thrust more firmly causing Merlin to yowl like a cat in heat, " or in your ass more?"

Merlin gave a incoherent mutter.

"Answer me!" Arthur demanded.


"Good," Arthur said lowly, " because this is where you will stay. In my bed, on my cock!" With a hard thrust of his hips burying himself as deeply in Merlin as he could.

"Arthur!" Merlin called in a pleasure filled shout.

Arthur closed his eyes letting the pleasure wash over him as he murmured, "Merlin," softly.

As their pleasures began to peak, Arthur's thrusts hasten and became more shorter. The hand he had on Merlin's cock quickened in pace causing Merlin to let out a another strangled moan as he came at the feel of it. Arthur managed to thrust into Merlin a few more times before his own climax overwhelmed him and he collapsed on top of Merlin, his cock still buried deeply in the dark haired man.

"Get off," Merlin mumbled after a few moments.

"We just did," Arthur complained.

Merlin growled, "No, you clot pole! Get off of me!"

"Merlin, I just gave you pleasure! You are suppose to be nice to me now!"

Merlin snorted, "Are you in the wet spot?"


"That's as nice as I'm going to get."

Arthur sighed, moving off of Merlin, looking at him in concern when Merlin winced as Arthur pulled out of him. Arthur almost asked if the other man was alright but the bright blush that came to Merlin's cheek's stop him. Arthur knew he hadn't hurt Merlin he had been careful enough to ensure that.

Merlin was still a bit sore because he was forced to share Arthur's bed. But Arthur had been nothing but kind to the servant. He had never forced Merlin to do anything with him, yet he always acted this way when they did any sort of love making.

Arthur had to wonder why he actually liked the servant so much?

"When I wake up?" Merlin said with a sleepily yawn, "I'll suck your cock until you think you're going to go blind."

Oh, that was why, Arthur realized.

Chapter Text

Yavanna was the daughter of Ares, the god of war and his consort, the god of peace, Joxer, last of the Grecian Gods of the Forgotten Realm. She was wife to Aule; she stood looking down over the edge of a balcony in the great Manisons of her husband. At the dark black abyss that plagues all of the Valinor. The abyss was a constant reminder of Melkor’s betrayal. It was an unnatural thing that seemed to feed Melkor power as it caused discontent among the gods. His hate for his fellow Valar was well known.

If Aule had found beauty in Melkor’s creations, would things be different? Would there be harmony? Or would things be worse with her husband entranced by the dark god?

The Maias exsistance outraged Melkor he saw them as lower beings given powers that by right only the gods should have, a slap in the face to him because of the insult the represented to him. That did not however stop Melkor from seducing Mairon. For Marion had been as beautiful as he was cunning. He who became Saroun, the great Enemy of the people of Middle-Earth.

The Valar, Yavanna’s adopted siblings feared Melkor and his sway over there mortal creations. For though they didn’t like to admit it their creations were…flawed. Starting with the Children of Iluvatar. The others had tried to convince Melkor this was not so…but even Yavanna could see that they were, but the other Valar rarely listened to her unless she was enraged.

Never was it more obvious that she was a daughter of Ares than when her temper was aroused.

Sometimes Yavanna wondered if she should have married Melkor instead of Aule. If that would have stopped the dark gods fall? She turned away from the abyss.

Knowing that to stare too long into it would bring madness.

Melkor’s hated of the Valar was not unfounded. He had been ill treated by them. Aule, (had been the worst of the offenders for all that he had loved Melkor well) had found an equal who shared a love of creating that few of the other Valar shared. Manwe was not included, (how could he be so cruel to Aule’s Dwarrow?) for he only loved his own creations.

The worst slap in the face Melkor suffered was that Yavanna was named caretaker of the lands of Middle-Earth. A place that had been created by the many trials and errors of Melkor and Aule. Melkor had seen the place as his and Aule’s alone. Then the other Valar had demanded their share of the lands. The Earth Goddess understood well the insult the Melkor felt. She feels it very time one of the other gods abuses Middle-Earth for their amusement. It was bad enough Aule in his children the Dwarrow, had at one almost mined her lands to death for gold, silver and precious stones.

The discontent of the gods was played out with their creations.

Man, Elf, Dwarrow…had lived in fear and mistrust of each other of so long now, Yavanna wondered if there was any hope for them. She was glad she had hid her own creations in the rolling hills of her valley. Her little ones (who she had originally created as companions for her husbands Dwarrows) only knew merriment, good will and peace but (as they were suppose to be companions for the Dwarrows) were hard working yet suspicious of outsiders. (For she never trusted the Dwarrows again after their abuse of her lands) Hobbits were the best of her creations.

Yavanna walked down a long hallway, passing doors that led to other places in her husband’s Mansions, doors that led to the Halls of the other Valar. She wondered why the paradises of Man, Elf, and Dwarrow were separated? What happened to those few, who learned to work, had friendships and even loves among a race not of their own?

Were they to spend the thereafter alone?

I must look into that, she thought. It wasn’t until she came to the doorway that led to her gardens when she saw it. It was just a plain wooden door with an iron lock and door handle. The ivy from her garden entrance had grown over the stonewalls and around the door framing it. She knew what was behind that door, though many of the Valar did not. It was one of the last secrets her fathers shared with her before going into the Twilight to be with their own passed on family.

Yavanna had been told never to open it, she looked covertly around as she dug a plain iron key from behind her he neckline of her green dress, it was attached to a well made but very old gold chain. She touched the door handle the iron was oddly warm under her touch.

“I would not do that. If I were you, my lady.”

The male voice startled her into letting go of the door handle. She turned to look at the man who spoke, he was tall with a warriors build, darkly tanned skin covered his bare chest but for the axe harness straps that crossed his chest. Dark black ornate tattoos decorated his chest, in her eyes at least, pleasing designs. His long dark locks of hair fell over his shoulders, sum of it held back from his face by small elegant braids. The scuff of his beard was neatly trimmed, but for the single braid on his chin. His cheekbones were high and sharp, his nose thin with eyebrows that were thick but not unruly. Though it was his deep, fathomless, dark brown eyes that Yavanna thought were the Stone God’s best feature. It was the kindness in them that convince her to marry him, all those centuries ago.

Aule stood few feet away from Yavanna leaning against wall with his arms crossed over his chest frowning deeply at her.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not you then.” The goddess said sharply as she glared at the god.

“The great god Ares—“

“I know who he was, you great oaf!”

Aule ignored her and continued, “He told us never to open that door. Not unless we were facing a great time of evil.”

Yavanna gave him a bewildered look, what did he think this was? “Melkor turned on the Valar. He had Sauron create those horrid rings of power and the Orcs are just unnatural,” she shuddered as she muttered the name of the foul creations, “Darkness is slowly enveloping Middle-Earth! Now my hobbits are in peril! The Manwe said because they are pure creatures that they will be useful in the fight! Fight? My hobbits were not created to fight! What will come? What they go through will destroy their souls! I’ll not have it, Aule! I simply won’t!”

Aule looked a upon his lady-wife, her skin was close to chalk white and she had dark bag from lack of rest under her eyes. A goddess of earth and nature she reflected the plight of the lands of Middle-Earth. It had been centuries since she had looked so sick. Why had be not noticed before?

“Do you even know what is behind that door?” Aule asked her, “Because I don’t. Whatever creature your fathers entrapped in there could be more dangerous than Melkor. It could be that thing that destroys us all.”

“Or it could save us!”

Aule knew by the look on Yavanna face that she made up her mind and there would be no agrueing with her. She pulled the chain from around her neck, placed the key into the lock turning it until she heard a small click, then pushed down on the door handle.

“My wife?”

Yavanna paused turning to look at her husband.

“Are you sure this is the path you wish to tread?”

Not really. “Yes, my husband.” Yavanna told him then turned back to the door pushing it open and walking through it. Aule heaved a sigh and followed after his wife.


Aule lit a torch that was on the wall by the entrance of the room. One by one the other torches came to life, the flickering flames cast shadows on the stonewalls of the room. Yavanna gasped at the sound of rattling chains. In one corner of the room Aule saw nothing but darkness, then came the glittering reflected green of glowing eyes inside shadows. Picking the torch off the wall he walked closer, keeping Yavanna behind him, much to his wife’s dismay.

Slowly the figure of a woman was revealed to them. A naked woman… Her lips were drawn back in a snarl revealing shiny white fangs that barely touched her bottom lip and her hair was long, knee length, black as onyx from top of her head to shoulder, then the color shifted to a brownish-dirty blonde with darker brown and black spots running through it. A collar of heavy iron was around her neck with thick ropes of heavy chain leading to the wall. From her shoulder to her fingers she had fur of the same coloration as her hair, at the tips of her fingers were sharp black claws. Her face, neck, breasts, and belly had lightly tanned skinned, though pale from not having seen the sun in so long. She was also furred from hip to knee her calf and feet were bare.

Someone had not wanted this woman to leave the room, Aule thought. Mostly because of the strong magics he could sense coming from the chains. Magic that was older than he was…perhaps even older than his siblings.

Who,” the woman coughed, voice horse from lack of use, “Who dares to enter my prison?”

Aule tried to stop Yavanna from stepping forward but she just shoved him to the side. He forgot how strong she was a lot of the time because she hardly ever used that strength.

“Yavanna, daughter of Ares god of war and his consort Joxer god of peace. The last child of Olympus, known as the Green Lady of Middle-Earth, wife to Aule, the Stone God. And you are Xander Harris, the last bearer of Ares’s battle-axe, his Champion.”

Aule wondered at the awed expression his wife wore, as like the beast-woman was a story hero come to life.

The beast-woman snorted, “For all,” she touched the collar at her neck, “that did me. My loyalty was well,” she sneered at them, “ rewarded, as you can see.”

Yavanna knelt down in front of the other woman, “I have heard stories of you, host to great Primal Goddess Shakarri. White Knight. Bane of the Powers That Where… Prophesy Breaker.

My fathers put you here so you would not hurt yourself or others until the madness that had claimed you passed. I don’t know it that has happened or not. What I do know is…I need you to serve the gods once more.”


Yavanna blinked and exchanged a look with Aule, who shrugged at his wife.

“I told Ares if he caged me never to reopen that door. I would be in no frame of mind to be useful to him.”

Yavanna grinned brightly, “It was a good thing that I opened the door then.”

Aule frowned, did his wife really think a smile and a turn of phrase was going… The beast-woman laughed coldly, but with real amusement in her glowing eyes. When the glow faded, bright green eyes, rimmed with dark brown stared at Yavanna, distrustfully.

Then Yavanna began speaking to the woman in a langue he didn’t know. He turned looking about the room. On the far wall there were weapons on display, a handful of daggers the blades made with different metals, gold, silver, iron, bronze some with mixed metals. A garrote that was made of metal wire, with small sharp barbs placed through out on it, the handles of it was a circle of metal and a thin straight piece that could be interlocked. But it was the axe hanging in a harness, with it’s blades covered that call to him. It looks very well made. He wanted a closer look at it he reached out…

DON’T TOUCH THAT!” The roaring words startled Aule he turned to see the beat-woman snarling, yanking on her chains as if to attack him. Yavanna gave him an unhappy look, one that he knew well…he would not be sleeping in their bed tonight, it seemed.

“Champion of My Fathers, please forgive my husband. Aule is a master craftsman as well as a warrior. He admires a well made weapon.”

“You admire with your eyes. Not with your hands!”

“You are correct, beast-woman, I offer regrets. It has been many a year, since I have seen the like of such a weapon. But I should have asked for permission to look at it closer.” Aule said softly, knowing his reaction would have been the same had another tried to touch his own weapons.

“Please say you will agree? To be my champion?” Yavanna said drawing the hate filled gaze of the beast-woman from Aule. “I will arrange for you to spent time in Imladris to learn about Middle-Earth. Lord Elrond will see to your education. Then when the time is right a Maia will take you to the Shire so you can train our saviors.”

“Will I get to know the names of these saviors I will have to teach.” The beast-woman asked sighing, and Aule knew she would do his wife’s bidding. Yavanna smiled but shook her head, causing the other woman to sigh again, “Of course not. That would be too easy.”

“Just train those who come to you when you get to the Shire. My hobbits may surprise you, I have no doubts about that.”

The beast-woman gave Yavanna a bewildered look, “What the hell is a hobbit? Is that like a rabbit? Can you eat it?”

A horrified look crossed Yavanna face, it took all Aule had not to burst out laughing because this was a plan not even the Old Ones would try…

“You don’t eat hobbits! Promise me, Xander that you won’t eat my hobbits!”

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. But how about some food, I’ve been in this room for…a few thousand years. I’m hungry!”

 Insanity, Aule thought, this was just going to be insane!    


After being giving a meal, Xander’s fur receded as she sank down into the hot water of the bronze toned colored tub. The hot water felt good against her skin. She watched the Earth Goddess flicked a braided lock her bright blood red hair, over her shoulder, as she picked up an ornate blue bottle. Yavanna poured some oil into her hands, and then ran her hands through Xander’s hair that was now a deep brown. She combed her fingers through it, pulling out the snarls and knots working through the clumps of that matted mane of hair.

Yavanna giggled at Xander let out a sigh of pleasure. Xander picked up a washcloth and a bar of soap and began to wash two thousand years of dirt and grime from her skin.

Yavanna’s hazel eyes shone with merriment that reminded Xander of Dawn when Buffy’s sister was up to mischief. Xander scrubbed harder on her arm, trying to shake off the memories. Xander had shed more than her share of tears for her lost family. There had been many a day where she had damned Ares for not letting her die when the final apocalypse came.

Having Narvi and Celebrimbor taking from her when they had found true happiness together was the last thing she could take. She had flooded that room she had been lock away in with her tears thrice over. She has mourned her family and past loves to the very point of insanity.

It was the reason why Ares had ended up locking Xander away. The madness that had come over her was not the type that let her function normally. The only thing that surprised Xander was it had taken so long for her to break.

“So, if I do this? Will my destiny finally be my own?”

Yavanna paused picking up a comb, “As much,” she used the comb to pick out a stubborn knot, “as it ever is.”

“Yavanna,” Xander let coldness seep into her tone of voice, “I was Ares’ champion. As you are the last blood relation of Ares, I ‘m bound to do your bidding, as I was him, “She paused, “I’m more suited to war as a result. Until such a time as you release me.”

“Warriors also guard and protect,” Yavanna told Xander softly, “I remember the stories my Fathers use to tell me of you. They were always the ones about how you looked after your friends and family. How loyal you were to them. I told my Fathers if I could be the half the person you were? All of the races of Middle-Earth would sing songs of my glory. Sadly I was not to be a hero but a lowly goddess, much to my disappointment.” She said with humor.

Xander slapped the water in the tub, “I’m not a hero,” she said spitefully. Yavanna gave Xander’s hair a hard tug making her wince in pain, “I just wanted to protect my friends and family so they would have a good, happily life.”

“And did they?”

Xander frowned. She thought about her family, her friends and how they lived their lives. “Yes, yes I think they were.”

“Then you full filled your quest.”

“But will I ever see them again, Yavanna? I don’t age. How I look now is how I looked then. I was between seventeen and eighteen when I became the host to the Primal Goddess who was with me until we merged into one being a several thousand years ago. Only my eyes are different. They use to be plain brown. They changed after the merge with Shakarri was complete.”

“Shakarri?” Yavanna always wondered where the name Xander chose to call herself came from, when they found sanctuary in Valinor, all those years ago.

“It was the name the Primal Goddess chose for herself.” Xander told her and winced when the goddess pulled on her hair again, “You know it would be easier just to cut it off. Knee length hair is not practical!”

Yavanna gave a shocked gasp, “Xander! No! Your hair is your glory!”

“Yavanna is correct.” The low male voice came from the corner of the room. Xander turned to see Aule sitting by an open window smoking a pipe. “Your hair should be a matter of pride.”

“Aule,” Yavanna said warningly, “the only reason I have allowed you to be here is because you think Xander is a danger to me. But you can only stay if you remain silent.”

Aule pouted as he put down his pipe. He picked up one of the weapons he had brought from the room Xander had been kept in. Xander had refused to leave the room without them. Wiping a whetstone over the blade of one the daggers he sharpen it back to a deadly edge.

Xander slid down under the water of the tub. She didn’t like the fact that once more she was at the mercy of the gods. Even more worrisome was that she was at the mercy of gods she didn’t know. She barely remembered any of the Vala. It was not a comfort that Yavanna was the daughter of Ares and Joxer, either. Both of them had known how to twist and turn Xander into doing what they wanted.

Xander had completed her merging with Shakarri, the Primal goddess, having done so to save them both from certain death. Xander had all of the Goddess’s power and knowledge just as she once promised and Xander’s personality remained. It was the voice that had whispered of primal power and pleasure, of knowledge and life.

And then that voice was silent.

It had been a kind thing Ares and Joxer had done taking her to Mt. Olympus when the last of her family had passed on. And cruel because they had dragged her kicking and scream away from their realm when it had been destroyed.

There was a sharp tug on her hair as Xander’s head was yanked out of the water.

“Please don’t try and drown yourself,” Aule said, Xander glaring up at him as water pour over her eyes, “You still have much to do.”


After Xander had finished bathing Yavanna, had against both her and Aule’s protests trimmed Xander’s hair to Xander’s waist and braided some of it into a thin plaid that ran along the side on Xander’s hair and neck, mostly to keep it from falling into her face. Then the goddess bought her clothing, doe skin pants, a white long sleeved shirt, a black leather amour corslet vest, and boots. Oh the boots were wonderful, made of dark brown leather, they laced up to almost her knee, and fit as if made for her, they were also a bit heavier that she thought they would be as well.

“That would be the steel in the toe.” Yavanna told her, “You were staring at them like you couldn’t figure it out. Aule can be quite the craftsmen when he puts his mind something. The leather and lace won’t degrade or the steel rust. So don’t lose them!”

Xander nodded as she packed up her weapons, the silver Chinese Ring daggers went into the belt on her waist. Her bronze-steel dagger went into a knife sheath in her boot. The steel daggers of hers went into sheaths just above her wrists that were hidden by the long sleeves of her shirt. She slipped on the long black leather trench coat that once belong to the most irrating bleach blond vampire she knew and had loved.

Xander’s the coat, weapons and the key to her shed (which had turned out to be a malfunctioning TARDIS that while not able to travel through time could move through different dimensions) were all she had from her old life. Once she had the coat on she put on the axe harness and shoved her battle-axe into it.

“You are ready?” Yavanna asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”


Xander followed the goddess into a room. An old man with long gray hair and matching beard, dressed in long gray robes stood in the middle of the room. In his hand he held a staff and on his head was a gray almost cone shaped hat that slumped backward over his head He looked not unlike the pictures that graced the covers of the many high fantasy books Xander use to read.

“This is Gandulf the Gray. He is one of the five Maia of Middle-Earth. He will see you safely to Imladris also known as Rivendale, to the peoples of Middle-Earth. Where Lord Elrond will see you are educated about Middle-Earth and such then when the time is right Gandulf will return and take you to my Shire.” Yavanna said.

“Green Lady, I will do so with the most haste.” His voice low and ruff, like that of a long time smoker, Xander thought.

Yavanna gave the old man a narrow eyed look then to Xander said, “A word of warning, when dealing with wizards, Shakarri Alexander,” Calling Xander by the name they had agreed Xander would now go by, “Never take anything at face value,” she leaned and whispered into Xander’s ear, “they are a tricky lot.”

Xander nodded and Gandulf held up his staff, in the blink of an eye they were gone.

Yavanna turned away from where they had been with a sigh. She saw Aule standing in the doorway of the room.


“Manwe requests our presences before him.” Aule said blandly, “And he is not happy.”

“Is he ever?”Yavanna asked with a snort.

Aule gave her a concerned look, “You know for all my protest I will stand with you in this matter.”

“Of course you do, husband.” Yavanna said. You know what I’ll do if the Valar push me to far.


Between one moment and the next Xander found herself standing in a clearing, she saw Gandulf off to the side with a couple of horses. She found herself wondering why he didn’t have a car…before she remembered.

Such things did not exist here.

“Come Shakarri!” Gandulf called happily, “We mustn’t dottle. We are still some hours from Rivendale. The Last Homely House will be your sanctuary until time to go to the Shire.”

Xander frowned, “I thought you were taking me straight to Rivendale with your magic? Yavanna said you are a wizard or something?”

Gandulf nodded as he petted the horse by his side, “Or something.” He agreed, “But why waste magic when a good horse,” he pats the horse’s flank, “can get you where you need to go?”

Xander in her long live had ridden many a means of transportation. And quite a few things that shouldn’t have been considered such. But…”I’ve never been on a horse before.”

“Well, now is as good of a time as any.”

“Is it a good time because you say it is? Or is it a good time because now is the only time?” Xander asked.

Gandulf blinked at her slowly before turned away and muttered to his horse, “I’ll have to watch this one.” The horse just chewed on a strand on Gandulf’s hair in reply. He then showed Xander how to mount her horse and told her its name was Tide.

Xander discovered that falling off a bolting horse hurt. A lot!

A few hours after the sun had set, Gandulf told her that Rivendale was just a couple of miles away, when she noticed that sounds of the forest had stopped, no owls hooted, no mice ran through the underbrush…even the crickets were quiet.

A howl broke through the dark.

“Those don’t sound like wolves.” Xander muttered, and they really didn’t. The cries were far deeper, and resonating. She could feel it then…the low cramping in her stomach. The rolling and sick feeling like sticky fingers on her skin with nails digging in. It was the feeling she always got when there was a vampire or demon nearby. And if she hadn’t got the feeling? The smell! Was enough to turn her stomach?

“No,” Gandulf said, “those are something much worst. We must hurry, Shakarri!”

They spurred their horses on until the broke over the crest of a small hill. At the bottom, Xander could see three beings with glowing, luminous skin, two women with brunette and red hair repectively, and a male with the whiteness blond hair she had ever seen on a man since Spike. Though from the way it glowed in was naturally that color and not artificial the way the vampire’s had been, he held two short swords in his hands. The red haired woman was swinging a sword and that the dark, humanoid creatures that were astride huge mutant wolf dog-hyena like animals. The two fighters were protecting the brunette female from the creatures, they were also out numbered.

“Orcs!” Gandulf hissed, “And Wargs.”

“We have to help them!” Xander said.

Gandulf looked at her, “Are you sure this is a battle you wish to fight? They have no bearing on us. We should use the distraction and continue on to Rivendale unheeded.”

“Stay here.” Xander growled, dismounting Tide, she could make her way down the hill faster with out the animal. “I’m going to help them.”

Gandulf ‘s expression was surprised and slightly worried, “Shakarri? Have you ever fought an Orc before?

“Nope,” Xander said slowly popping the ‘p’of the word, “But I’ve found if you cut the head of something off? It dies.” The thought of a certain musically incline green demon flitted through her mind, “Most of the time.”

Before Gandulf could stop her, Xander rushed off, pulling her battle-axe from its harness as she skidded down the hill. Once she reached the bottom of it she took a deep breath…


Legolas wondered just how this had gone wrong? He never should have let Arwen talk him into a late night walk in the woods with her and Tauriel. Though he could admit it had been enjoyable until the bloody Orc had shown up.

All he knew was that he had to keep Arwen safe. The last thing he need was a war between his father and Arwen’s because she got hurt while she was with him. Things had been shaking between their Houses since he and Arwen had broken their engagement five hundred years ago. Thranduil had finally begun to treat Legolas like his son again. Lord Elrond had never held the broken engagement as Legolas fault, so the elf never treated Legolas any different. He had however held Thranduil to task for his treatment of Legolas.

The Orc were very bold for attacking so close to Imladris, to Rivendale. Normally they only attacked humans settlements. So when the pale orc atop of the white warg demanded Arwen was shocking to him and Tauriel.

Obviously that was not going to happen.

And a fight ensued.

Legolas feared they would lose. There was just two many of them, and his damned bow, was to far from him. He shoved his short sword into the orc in front of him. He could see the bow leaning against the tree with the quivers where he had laid it. Now if only he could get to it…He was much better with it than a sword.

The sounding roar silenced the shrieks of the orcs and the howls of their mounts, suddenly. Legolas could feel a deep sense of soul shattering fear building up in him at the sound of it. Louder the roaring grew, so loud he, Tauriel and Arwen covered their ears in pain. He could see the same fear he felt mirrored in the two women’s eyes.

“What is that?” Arwen shouted.

“I don’t know.” Legolas said, “I’ve never heard the like…”

“Look!” Tauriel said pointing to a pair of glowing green eyes as a figure melted out of the shadows.

The wargs whimpered like puppies at the sight of the figure before some of them just bolted, others shook off their riders before, running into the woods. The orcs left behind seemed to be just as fearful of the roar before they began to hiss at each other, then turned back to the elves as on of the more brave orcs hissed out, “What in the name of Mordor are you?”

The figure, Legolas could now see more clearly was a woman with dark brown hair, she held a large black handle, gleaming silver, double headed battle-axe in her hands, she gave it, what Legolas thought was an idle spin before she said in a clear but husky voice, “Death to all evil creatures.”

The orc hissed and the woman swung her axe, the orc brought up his club in time to block the blow. Next to him, Legolas felt, Tauriel move as she shoved an orc that got too close to Arwen away.

Oh, the way to his bow was clear.


Gandulf sat in a nearby tree watching as the battle began once Shakarri began to fight the orc. He had wondered why Yavanna chose this girl as her champion. Rumor among the Maia was that Yavanna’s father had a fierce champion he had to lock away for the person had gone mad with grief.

It was obvious to Gandulf who the girl was once he saw her fight. He had met Xander Harris many a century ago. He had been much younger then and he had been struck by the very world wariness she seemed to carry on her shoulders as if she had seen too much, pain, and death.

He hadn’t understood it then, what he saw. Now though when he looks into a mirror he does. He avoids mirrors when he can. Taking a puff from his pipe he winced when Xander took a vicious hit to her ribs causing to drop her axe. The orc thinking the battle won raised his sword over his head for the killing blow when his expression turned shocked, then he fell over. Gandulf could see an arrow sticking out of the orcs back.

Gandulf watched as Xander gave the elf a nod of thanks before snatching up her weapon and moving on to the next orc. The young Mirkwood prince, turned back to the other elves. He bares watching, this son of Thranduil, Gandulf thought. For the boy hadn’t needed to turn his eyes way from his companions to help Xander.

Gandulf saw when the pale orc slinked away into the shadows. Azog the Defiler, was going to live another day, pity that, Gandulf thought. Things would be much easier if the orc had met his end here. Destiny might have been changed.. Perhaps it still could?

Gandulf turned his gaze back to the battle, he watched as the red haired elf woman rammed her sword into one the last standing orcs, arrows had downed the others and Xander…yanked her axe out of the abdomen of another orc. Black blood, guts and gore spilled from the creature.

Gandulf hummed to himself; if I hurry I can beat them to Imladris.


After the orc are dead, Xander looked around at the three others, it was then when she noticed just how beautiful all three were each in their own ways, the slight glowing was a bit weird and the pointed ears? “Are you all, alright?”

The blonde swung his bow over his shoulder and gave Xander a small smile. But it was the brunette woman, who spoke,

“We are well. Thank you for your help. I am Arwen, daughter of Elrond.”

Xander nods absently as she shakes the black blood from her axe. Were those orc-things made of tar? “Shakrri Alexander,” then muttered, “But you can call me Xander.”

Arwen smiled brightly, and Xander had to look away from the sight of her. That smile remaindered her of Tara’s after her hair turned white from the spell that had awakened the Potentials of the Slayer line. Xander shook that thought away.

“My companions are Legolas, son of Thranduil and Tauriel, daughter of Luingwen”

“Well met,” Xander gave them both a quick nod. “I think one of the orcs got away.”

“Yes,” Tauriel said, “The pale one.”

Xander frowned, as she looked around, where was, “Gandulf!” She turned back towards the hill, “GANDULF!” She yelled.

“Do you speak of Gandulf the Gray?” Tauriel asked concerned.

“Xander nodded, “He was taking me to Rivendale.”

“What business do you have in Rivendale?” Legolas asked harshly but not unkindly, Xander thought, from his expression.

Xander shrugged, “I’m suppose to learn about,” she paused and muttered, “What did Yavanna call it again?” Not noticing the looks of slight alarm on the faces of the other three as they exchanged looks with each other, “Oh, right! Middle-Earth.”

“How do you not know what realm you are in?” Tauriel asked at the same time Arwen asked, “You speak to the gods,” in an awed way.

“Only just Yavanna and Aule.” Xander said with a shrug.

“Just them?”Legolas stated his voice mocking. Xander glared at him as she knelt wiped her axe on the grass to rid it of what was left of the orc blood. “Yeah I was hustled out of the Mansions of Aule really quick like.” Xander got a worried look, “I hope Yavanna won’t get into trouble with the other gods for letting me out.”

Legolas shot her a wide-eyed look, “Are you insane?” then looked to the others, “She is obviously insane!”

“You are being rude, Legolas.” Arwen scolded the blond.

“Yes,” Tauriel drawled out, “Stop.”

Arwen turned to Xander, “You must forgive Legolas. When confronted with the unknown,” Arwen turned a glare on Legolas, “ he tends to act like his father.”

Xander shook her head, “He said nothing I haven’t heard before or won’t hear in the future.”

“We are from Rivendale.” Arwen told Xander, “We can take you there.”

“But Gandulf—“

“Is a powerful wizard. He will be fine. I’m sure of it.” Arwen said.

“Are you sure that is wise?” Legolas asked Arwen in their native speech of Sindarin.

“Gandulf was bring her to Imladris for a reason, Legolas- you know how that wizard is.” Arwen muttered the last in Common Speech.

“Rivendale is just twenty minutes away by foot,” Tauriel said pointing to the left, “that way.”

Xander stood shoving her axe back into the harness on her back, wiping her hands on the black leather of her coat, as an owl in a tree by near began to hoot. “We should get going then.”

They started walking, Arwen and Legolas together and Xander walked by Tauriel, with Legolas glancing back at them every so often.

“Your battle-axe is well made.” Tauriel commented, “I don’t think even the Dwarves,” Legolas snorted at the word, “ could make anything as good as that. Dwarven weapons are some of the best there is, they know their crafts well.”

“Tauriel as you can hear is enamored of Dwarven metal work.” Arwen said smirking slightly as Tauriel blushed.

“Yes, be careful, Tauriel you boarder on treason.” Legolas muttered darkly.

“Only in your father’s opinion!” Tauriel snapped back.

The conversation fell off then and Xander used that to get her own thoughts into order, Gods, Wizards, Elves, Dwarrow. All Xander need was some knights and dragons and the fairytale would be complete!







Chapter Text

Stiles was startled awake at the feel of suckling on one of his small breasts through the unbutton sleep shirt he was wearing. He gave a low moan at the sucking, his hand came up to cup the head that was at his breast, He weaved his fingers through the thick, soft, dark short hair. Stiles looked down to see Derek Hale sucking on his tit as if it was the best thing the other man had ever tasted or at least the milk Derek was sucking out of it was anyway. Stiles knew he should stop Derek, he really, really should, but it felt so good to have the pressure relieved by the older boy's sucking on it. It wasn't unusual for an omega to produce milk when having sex. Or with an Alpha the Omega was highly attracted too.

" shouldn't be doing that. It's unseemly," Stiles moaned.

Derek pulled off of Stiles tit with an obscene wet 'popping' noise. Derek laughed softly as he shoved up the night shirt up around Stiles waist. Stiles looked down to see his own cock was standing up begging to be touched. He could also see that Derek was wearing gray pants that were unbuttoned and Derek's long thick cock was hanging out as Derek stroked himself to hardness, he whispered to Stiles, "I'm going to enjoy filling you with my pup, Stilinski."

Stiles shivered from the feel of his breath against his neck, "You, you don't want me, Lord Hale. Please think about the scandal this will cause." Though Stiles words sounded upset all he did was lay there and spread his thighs apart for the Alpha on top of him. Revealing his dripping, wet, pussy for Derek's hot gaze. Stiles watched as the Alpha hitch his hips closer the tip of the Alpha's cock tracing the lips of Stiles' pussy. Stiles wanted nothing more than to be filled by this Alpha's cock.

Derek didn't care about some mythical scandal, bedding Stiles would cause. As the tip of his cock dipped into Stiles cunt.

"You shouldn't," Stiles said blandly, knowing it was what he was suppose to say because Derek's cock was so close to breaching him, Stiles wanted Derek even if that meant Stiles got filled with a pup.

Derek grinned, "You've been teasing me with that ripe scent of yours since you arrived at Triskelion. With that sweet smell." He reached out and cupped one of Stiles breasts, thumbing the pale pink nipple until it beaded up with a white drop of milk. "I want to put my cock in you, feel you milking my knot the way I would your breasts." Stiles groaned when Derek took him by his upper thighs settling more firmly between them. Derek's cock slowly sinking down into Stiles' slick, wet, pussy, as he said, "Then when you get big and round with my pup? I'd test your milk every day until you gave birth. I'd have to make sure it was worthy of my pup, you see."

"Please don't," Stiles whined, panting.

Derek bottomed out, his cock buried deep, in the wet, hot cunt under him, Derek's hands gripped Stiles thighs hard as if to keep the omega in place as Stiles whimpered, as Derek slowly began to thrust in and out of Stiles,

"I'll be... uh, ah, ruined!"

"Oh, yes! You'll be ruined, sweet omega." Derek muttered as he quickened his pace making the omega whine and cry out under him.

"Please...oh, god, don't stop!" Stiles cried out breathlessly but pulled Derek closer to him as he met Derek thrust with the wanton movements of his own hips. Derek's hands moved from Stiles hips to brace themselves on either side of Stiles' head as he began to slow his thrusts as he deepened them.

"Isn't this good? Does my cock please you, omega?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Stiles moaned out as he wrapped his legs tight around Derek's waist. "Gods above, yes!"

"I'm going to coat your cunt with my seed, omega." Derek hissed into Stiles ear.

"My, my cock, Alpha, let me touch my cock!" Stiles whined, breathlessly.

"No," Derek growled, "you come on my cock or not at all!" Derek's thrust gained more speed again knowing he was going to fill this omega's womb with his seed, plant his pup deep in this omega.

"Oh,!" Stiles moaned as Derek's cock swelled inside of him locking the Alpha in his pussy as Derek came with a low groan. Derek continued a steady humping rhythm as he could locked in Stiles as he was until the younger man cried out in pleasure and the omega's cock spurted with cum.

Derek rolled onto his back bringing Stiles with him until the omega was straddling his waist, laying exhausted on his chest. He looked down at the young omega that he had ruined this night on his mother's command. Derek petted Stiles back, "Do you think we've made the heir our families are hoping for, Stiles?"

Stiles let out a tired laugh, "If not we will just have to keep trying, won't we?"



Chapter Text

"You know, I think I find you more attractive now, that you are not trying to cater to my every whim." The beautiful, new Duchess of Kandima, Lydia Whittmore `nee Martin, told the man sitting at the desk before her, with an ironic smile, as she snapped open her fan. Lydia had paid a heavy price to get out of her previous engagement to this man...

Mieczyslaw Nyctimus Reddington Stilinski, Lord of Nogitsune, though his mother's line, heir to the title of Viscount of Beacon once his father passed away. Which wouldn't happen for years if his son had anything to say about it. He was known as Stiles to his intimate friends and family. Lydia had known her engagement to Stiles was a mistake, but it was one she needed to make in order to get Jackson Whittmore to make an overture for her hand. While Whittmore had flirted with her in the past and courted her lightly he never once spoke of marriage until she was beyond his reach as Stiles' fiancée.

Mistakes it seemed were made to be paid for, and how Lydia had settled and was still paying for breaking the engagement contract between her and Stiles. Why if it wasn't for Jackson's title? Lydia would not be able to attend any of the parties in the county! Lydia should have known how vindictive Stiles could be, adding to the fact that he was of higher rank than she was at the time of their engagement, Stiles' honor came into question.

Lydia had fled to Jackson Whittmore, the moment the Alpha had offered her a ring. As it was her family had paid her way out of her marriage contract with Stiles with most of her dowry, and then some and Jackson would continue to pay Stiles and amount equal to her dowry for the next four years or until Stiles himself married.

"Be still my heart," Lord Nogitsune muttered as he went through a pile of letters on his desk.

After Lydia had married Jackson, Stiles had disappeared to the wilds of the Emerald Isle, to the estate his family had on the borders of the island for almost two years! Now that he returned he was no longer the pale, weak, boy of sixteen that she had sought out to make Jackson jealous nor the eighteen-year-old that she had been engaged too, but a tanned, handsome, broad-shouldered man of almost twenty. Stiles had also come back with a darker mood about him. He cared nothing about the gossip of the gentry or noble families of the county. Nor did he suffer the company of those he had no liking for or did not have everyday dealings with.

The happy boy, Lydia had known been replaced with a dark, cynical stranger.

How intriguing, Stiles had become in his time way, Lydia thought as she walked about Stiles private study, the swishing of her skirts the only sound.

"Is there a reason you have graced me with your presence, Lady Whittmore? Or are you already bored with your husband and looking for entertainment? A new lover perhaps?" Stiles said in a flat, disinterested tone.

Lydia frowned, "Even if I was? I wouldn't consider you as a lover."

Stiles shook his head, "No, you never have," going back to the letters on his desk, he paused at one, looking at it with an odd expression Lydia had never seen on Stiles' face before, then the young man put the letter in the inside pocket of his jacket in a smooth, practiced motion.

"Are you going to the ball, that the Giles' is hosting tomorrow?" Lydia asked. Suddenly the tension in the air had become too uncomfortable for her to bare.

"No, I believe I'll be working on the estate books tomorrow."

"How boring."

"Yes, quite."

Lydia brightened, "In other news, the Hales are returning to Beacon County!"

The Hales were one the oldest families in Beacon County, in fact, only the Reddingtons beat them out for the honor of oldest. They were also a family riddled with scandals and intrigues dating back centuries to Queen Mary of the Scots. They say the first Hale was one of her bastard children she had with one of her lovers. Though nothing has ever been confirmed and the Hales themselves are not saying anything about it.

"I suppose you are going to throw them a welcoming party?"

"Of course! Jackson sees to all of the arrangements."

"Your Omega is whipped, Lydia."

"Jackson is an Alpha!" Lydia hissed in outrage.

Stiles snorted, "Jackson may have an Alpha's cock, but his manner is all Omega. It's the reason why you married him. So you could have control of your marriage and a knot for your cunt. No real Alpha would let you run over him the way you do Jackson."

Not shocked by the crude words, Lydia sniffed, miffed at them. Real as they were, she couldn't admit it. Least of all to Stiles. "We like the fact that I'm in charge of our relationship!"

"So you say. I give it six more months before he's unfaithful to you."

"Well," Lydia huffed, "I see your time away from Beacon County hasn't made you any less opinionated about things that are not your affair!'

"No, I fear it has made me worst," Stiles told her with a cold smile.

"You will come to the party for the Hales," Lydia coached.

"I'll think about."


"Lady Whittmore, you are about to wear out your welcome."

Lydia gave a mock gasp of outrage, "You never use to be so harsh."

Stiles stood up from behind his desk and walked over to the door of the study, opening it, "I once thought you would be a faithful, loyal wife to me, but you couldn't even be a faithful fiancée while we were engaged. I happen to be a bit bitter when it comes to you, Lydia. So I'm allowed to be harsh with you."

"Did I break your heart, Stiles?" Lydia asked with a smirk.

"Good-bye, Your Grace." Stiles not quite growled.

"Until our next encounter, Lord Nogitsune," Lydia purred as she walked out of the study. Her smirk got wider when the door slammed behind her. It was good to know she could still rile Stiles up. It meant he still had some feelings for her.

Feelings she could use against him when the time was right.


Stiles stomped into his room calling for his valet. When the blonde woman appeared, she took one look at him and knew he had just got through dealing with that woman, Duchess Kandima. The woman that had broken her lord's heart two years ago, the reason Stiles had fled to the Emerald Isle two years ago.


"Oh, pipe down. Your bath has already been drawn." Erica told him moving a screen to reveal the copper tub full of steaming water. "How you can stand that harpy after what she did to you..."

"Erica, be civil about your better," Stiles said more tired than angry.

"That bitch is not my better, Stiles! We share the same father! Only her mother is married to him." Erica snarled. The scandal following the Martins and the Reyes was not a new one. Two close friends, despite not being of the same rank, had been courted by the same man, both had let this man into there beds before marriage, one girl had actually been caught with Randal Martin, so that was the girl he married. Everyone in the county knew Erica was Randal Martin's daughter as well. That being known Randal Martin provided well for his bastard daughter, yet, would not claim her as his child. It was a point of irritation with Erica that even with the money he gave her she still needs to work, while that red-head got to marry a Duke and would want for nothing in her life. The blonde woman had been working for the Stilinski family for the last four years and was Stiles closest companion.

Stiles got undressed and stepped into the tub. Sinking down into the steaming hot water, Erica told him she was going to go get some more towels, but he knew it was so he would have some privacy. While it was usual for a woman to hold the position of Valet, it was overlooked in the Stilinski household mostly because Stiles had known Erica since they were small children and the fact that Stiles was an Omega. Though this wasn't something the rest of Beacon County had known until after Stiles engagement to Lydia had been broken. The one secret he had shared with his bride to be, she had shared with her lover, Jackson... Not long after that the rest of the county had known.

Stiles had fled to the Emerald Isle so he wouldn't have to deal with the fallout. Many in Beacon were disappointed that John Stilinski had let his son lie to them for so long. Yet many more understood why Stiles had lied about being a not being an Omega. Many people had always assumed that Stiles was a Beta from his looks alone. He shared very few Omega features, but for the fact, he was tall and lithe, yet more broad of shoulder like a Beta. While not stunningly beautiful the way Omegas were, Stiles was pretty in a fashion.

Stiles leaned over the tub and retrieved the letter from his jacket pocket.

He shouldn't read it. He shouldn't.

Stiles did not understand why every one of Derek Hale's intimates thought the Lord Triskele, was a stoic, steady, dull, Beta! Not when Stiles had a boxful...a boxful of letters, erotic letters from said Beta! Yet, Derek Hale had never once made an overture of any sort of courtship, despite the scandalous letters Derek Hale sent Stiles.

Stiles was startled out of his thoughts when Erica snatched the letter out of his hand.

"Another one?" Erica purred.

"Erica!" Stiles snapped, sloshing water onto the floor.

"My, my, another shockingly nasty letter from Lord Triskele. Who would have thought he had it in him," Erica paused, "or should I say what he wants to put in you!"

Stiles sighed, "Just put it in the box with the others."

"Oh, what a hardship it must be to read such words form such a handsome Beta," Erica said laughing.

"Just bring me my robe, Erica," Stiles said sinking back down into the water. He'd had enough conversation for today.


Stiles stepped out of the tub and dried off with the towels Erica had brought him before putting on his robe. He walked over to his desk where a box sat the newest letter from Hale laying on top of it. He picked up the box and walked over to his bed and crawled on top of it. After Stiles got comfortable, he picked up the letter.

My beloved Stiles,

By the time you get this letter rumors of myself and siblings to return to Beacon County should have reached your ears. We shall do so under the watchful eye of Uncle Peter, my parents choosing to holiday with the Deatons.


Impatiently Stiles tossed aside the first page of the letter to the second page. The first page of every letter was always about mundane things or ongoings of the Hale family, enjoyable to be sure but not what Stiles was interested in at the moment.


My Beloved, I can't wait to set eyes on you once more. Do you remember the days we would spend by the river, half-clothed, my cock balls deep in your sweet cunt? I remember those days fondly; my desires have never run as hot as they do with you. Do you remember the sounds of broken pleasure you would make as my cock would slide in and out of your cunt? I do. I miss the sweet clench of it around my cock. I miss seeing the stunned look of pleasure after you've cum so hard and well, from just the joy my cock gave you after you had bounced on it, stealing your orgasm.


Stiles wasn't going to let himself be swayed by pretty words Stiles wasn't going to touch himself to ease the arousal from those words. He wasn't. He tried to convince himself even as he slid a hand under his rode; his fingers brushed against his pussy lips before he decided to wrap his fingers around his cock. Gently stroking it as it got hard, his thumb rubbing over the tip. This was the reaction he always had in Derek's letters. Stiles knew he shouldn't let the short affair he'd had with Derek Hale, while he was on the Emerald Isle, to hold such power over him. It was not unheard of for a Beta to take another Beta as a spouse. Stiles knew Betas mostly took women as their spouses. Alphas and Omegas did as well too. But mostly an Alpha would choose an Omega to be their spouse. Betas didn't take Omegas as a spouse usually but it wasn't unheard of. Since Stiles Omega status had been revealed two years ago when his engagement to Lydia Martin ended the idea that he could or would be courted by a Beta was an unseemly idea in the eyes of society.


I've dreamed of you, My Beloved Stiles, since the day we parted. As I hope my letters have shown, my regard for you is most high and that my heart longs for you, during the cold, long lonely nights. Am I bold for writing such things? Yes, I fear that I am. But not once have you refused my letters and even wrote back just as passionately as I. How I wish you would put pen to paper once more.


Stiles paused in his self-pleasure. Stiles acknowledge that writing Derek back had encouraged this correspondence. Stiles missed the man. Stiles just hadn't been sure what he felt for Derek during his affair with him. Coming from his broken engagement with Lydia. Stiles had thought himself not to be emotionally stable to be making any decisions about any new romantic entanglements. Stiles explained this to Derek, and the man had understood. Yet it hadn't stopped Derek for perusing Stiles until the affair turned sexual. Something Stiles had enjoyed a lot but knew Derek would and did want more. More was something Stiles wasn't at the time ready to give anyone. For the last year, Derek Hale had been Stiles' lover, and he regretted not one minute of it. Coming back home was the hardest thing Stiles ever did. But he needed the time away from Derek to understand what he felt for the Beta. If Stiles feelings of affection were worth the fight, he would have with Society in order to have Derek as more.


I can but hope you share the same thoughts in your heart, mind and of passion, as I do. I remember the words you spoke to me our last night together as you rode my cock as if it was the last time you would even get to do so. As your cunt dripped wetly as you rode my cock for hours that night, I can still hear your voice as it breaks with cries of passion.

No sound was more dear to me than when you spoke my name after I spent my seed inside of you that last time. I will admit Beloved I-I was hoping it would take root and that your belly would swell with a child.

A hopeless dream I know.


A child? Stiles wondered, stupidly and ideas of self-pleasure were abruptly halted. He's never said such things, in his letters before. No, Derek's words had been written seduction. No mentions of children being the result of it. Stiles wasn't sure how he felt about that. But the idea of Derek's seed in his belly, of watching it grow, holding a child of his and Derek's was... Not an unpleasant thought.


You must think my words rash or desire drunk, but they are not. I fear my passion for you consumes me most ardently, My Beloved. That you would crave my touch, crave me as much as I desire you...

 I hope you shall be open to my courtship now, in the way you weren't before. I know you had your reasons then and even if I didn't understand or like them, I would respect them. I will court you the way I should have, the way you deserved to be wooed. I will win over your heart this time, My Stiles and not just your body.

 This I promise you, my dear Lord Nogitsune.

                                                   Ardently Yours,

                                             Derek Hale, Lord Of Triskele


Stiles dropped the letter down on the bed next to the box. He fell back onto his back with a heavy sigh. Derek Hale was going to be a complication he wasn't sure he wanted in his life but was one Stiles was sure he was going to need.

Chapter Text



Stiles coughed and turned over on the ground. The smell of the moist dirt of the forest floor couldn't cover the stench of blood, his blood. Slowly Stiles began to crawl through the forest floor. Crawling because that shit of a beta, Jackson and his fucking Banshee girlfriend had broken his god damned legs! Stiles could literally only pull himself up by one arm because that bastard had also broken his right arm. He couldn't even hear the sounds of the forest because that red-haired whore, had screamed and his ears were still ringing from the sound of her wail. Stiles was not going to let what they had done stop him. Stiles knew what he had to do, where he had to go... It was strange, how all he could think about, was how he was going avenge himself on those who had betrayed him, yet Stiles was filled with a startling sense of peace at the thought.

The Nemeton. Stiles thought was the answer. The Nemeton would be his salvation just as it had once been Jennifer Blake's. Never let it be said that Stiles couldn't learn from the mistakes of others. Stiles knew he could harness the power of the Nemeton. Being possessed by a Nogitsune and being reborn by its mouth as a Kitsune had been right for waking his spark to fire. One that would fuel his revenge...

"You're not going to make it, you know." The sound of the voice cleared the ringing in Stiles' ears it startled him into turning his head to the left to see a man. He had more of an interesting face than a classically handsome one, leaning back against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. The man had pale skin, light nut brown hair and caramel colored eyes. The man was dressed in a white long-sleeved linen type shirt you would see Shakespearian actor wear and a pair of dove gray stonewashed jeans with a set of brown hiking boots.

"You'll pass out, from the internal bleeding, from when the were-coyote broke your ribs before you get to that stump."

Thank you so much for that reminder, Stiles thought, he wasn't sure how Lydia had turned his girlfriend, Malia, against him. Lydia hadn't trusted him since Allison's death. Stiles knew the strawberry blonde blamed him for the huntress's death. Stiles had actually believed that Lydia had grown to care for him. Yet, having her watch with a cold expression while Jackson broke his legs disabused him of that notion.

Stiles shot the man a glare, "I won't," he muttered, "I'm a Kitsune with a spark..." he groaned and pulled himself over the ground, "I'm Stiles fun--" he broke off with a wet cough. Stiles wiped his mouth with the back of his hand ignoring the taste of blood that came from his lips. "--I don't give up."

"No," the man said with a sigh, "your kind never do." Stiles wondered, what he meant by that, then the man said, "There is another way to get what you want."

Stiles collapsed on the ground with a groan of pain, "What could you know about what I want?"

A knowing look crossed the man's face, "You want revenge." the man frowned, "Normally that's not in my wheelhouse, but I'm sure my brother won't mind if I cross into his territory just this will be for a good cause, after all."

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the man, "Who are you?"

"I'm known to you mortals as Pax, the God of Peace..." the man smiled brightly, causing him to shine with such a divine beauty that it made Stiles breath catch...or maybe that was Stiles's broken ribs? "But you can call me, Joxer.




Present Day.


Stiles Stilinski blinked the memory away as he walked into the coffee shop. He had just spent the last ten years fighting a war against terrorists. Stiles wasn't surprised at how rough his life was as the Champion of the God of Peace. Stiles knew his work was for the betterment of mankind, and the fact he was able to avenge Katrina, his girlfriend that had been killed in a terrorists attack, had brought him a much-needed sense of peace.

Stiles was glad his time with the CIA was over. Faking his death hadn't been as easy, one of the few drawbacks that technology had, was it made it harder to hide. Stiles was glad Joxer was giving him some breathing space before his next mission. Stiles had, much to his god's concern lost himself, in the role of Mitch Rapp, an undercover counter-terrorism operative. Stiles was having a hard time shaking off Rapp's persona.

Coffee, Stiles thought. He needs the black gold that had saved his sanity more than once.

Coffee was the drink of the god's, though Joxer had told him it really wasn't more than once.

In the last fifty years, Stiles had been in the service of Peace. Stiles still couldn't believe the god had chosen him to be the Champion of Peace. Stiles was the hand and voice of the god for the mortal realm. Though it was never an easy task it had to date been the most full-filling thing he had ever known. Without Joxer? Stiles wouldn't be alive today.

After everything with the Nogitsune had happened, Scott McCall-the biggest dickhead to ever have lived-had a freakout and cast Stiles from his pack of -the worst supernatural creatures even- if it hadn't been for Stiles they all would have died ten times over!!!

Scott had somehow convinced Noshiko Yukimura not to teach Stiles anything to do with the newly awakened Kitsune powers. That Stiles had gotten after the possession by the dark fox spirit, it had been Lydia Martin that had turned the rest pack against him, for Allison's death and had attacked him with the help of Jackson Whittmore, Theo Ranken and Malia Tate leaving him for dead in the woods of the preserve.

Stiles knew it did no good to think about that day. He just knew if it hadn't been for the actions that the McCall Pack had taken against him, Stiles would never have found out what he was-- a warrior for peace. Stiles sighed when he realized the coffee shop he walked into was a Starbucks.

He'd had such high hopes... Still, hot chocolate would be sweet, Stiles thought. He walked up to the counter, behind it were two young male baristas. One had blonde hair and wore a pair of thick black rimmed glasses, and the other had hair dyed a dark purple. There was one other customer, a young woman around Stiles age, who was glaring up at the menu board as if it had mortally offended her.

"Bueller?" The blonde asked in a monotone voice while holding out a cup, with a blank-eyed stare. Stiles wasn't sure if he should be amused or worried by this.

The purple haired guy only rolled his eyes and muttered, "I need better co-workers."

Stiles sighed, classics were classics no matter what decade you were in but he knew the kid was quoting from the remake and not the nineteen-eighties original movie.

The remake which had a female in the starring role. Not that it was a bad thing. It was actually one of the few gender role reversals that worked. With a girl conning the principal and getting her boyfriend out of school for the day with her male best friend?


And the fact that it was made with the newer takes one's gender and sexuality in mind?


The twist ending with the threesome though, Stiles was unsure if that worked, but it was better than the old love triangle, angle, so many movies still did. In fact, a lot had changed in the last fifty years when it had come to gender equality and LBGTQ rights. That's not to say there weren't still bigots but they were now far more outnumber but people who just didn't care who other people slept with. Stiles was far more comfortable with his own bi-sexuality now than he had been when he was younger and far more open about it then he would've been as a teenager.

Stiles stepped up to the counter, giving the woman a side-eyed glance because she was growling under her breath in an away Stiles remember one too many werewolves had in his old life when they were annoyed about something.

"Two hot chocolates, please." Stiles requested, before letting his eyes drift over to the woman she had long dark hair worn in a simple braid. She was gorgeous with the wholesomeness of the girl next door, but with a feral edge, that kind of reminds Stiles of the dearly departed Erica Reyes. The woman was dressed fashionable, yet functionally in jeans, boots and a long sleeved dark navy blue sweater.

The purple haired barista asked, "Would you like reduced fat, low fat, skim or whole milk?"

Stiles yanked his gaze away from the woman and back to the barista, "Whole milk."

"Milk chocolate, white chocolate or dark chocolate?"


"For flavors, we have an assortment: mint, peppermint, orange, lemongrass and pumpkin and-"

"You don't put those last two flavors in chocolate!" The young woman, hissed at the purple haired barista, looking upset at the very idea. Stiles could only agree. He wasn't a big fan of flavored chocolate, to begin with.

"No flavors," Stiles said, irritation leaking into his voice.

"Bueller?" the blonde barista said, blinking confusedly when he wasn't answered.

Stiles gave the guy a concerned look, "Is he okay?"

"Dray?" the purple haired barista, asked, "He's fine. He just needs to stop," he shot a glare at the blond," smoking so much weed before coming to work!"

"Bueller?" the blonde said again this time winking at Stiles when the purple haired barista couldn't see him do it. Causing the young woman next to Stiles to giggle. Stiles startled wondering when she had moved so close to him.

"Oil or cream?"

"What?" Stiles asked.

Purple Hair sighed, he held up a spray can of Redding Whip cream with one hand, "Cream or," he held up a blue and white container of Cool Whip, "oil?"

"No, you heathen! Marshmallows only!" Stiles exclaimed, horrified by the very thought of...Stiles shuddered, no, just no.

"Big, standard, minis or fluff?"

"Minis," Stiles said, through clenched teeth.

"Small, medium, large or ex-large?"

"Whatever size that will cost less than ten bucks for both of them!" Stiles snarled.

"Small it is," Purple Hair sniffed, "Cheapskate," he muttered before going to make the drinks.

Stiles let out a frustrated sigh, "I've been out of the country for a few years but when did it get that bad?"

"Two thousand and two," the woman next to Stiles muttered, then she asked, "Why were you out of the country?"

Stiles blinked, at the pretty dark brown eyes, that was a couple shades darker than his own, that she had. They sparkled with mischief that called to his inner fox. She was, Stiles realized, she was breathtaking. "I-I was stationed abroad."

The young woman's eyes narrowed, "Military?"

Stiles shrugged, "Something like that." Stiles could almost see the question the woman was going to ask, but thankfully Purple Hair came back carrying two cups before she could say anything, and set them on the counter.

"Two small hot dark hot chocolates, no flavors with mini marshmallows," Purple Hair gave Stiles a look, "I have been working here for almost five years. I can make anything sort of coffee, latte or tea. It too much to ask that you make my job more interesting. Hot Chocolate is so boring. That will be nine dollars and ninety-five cents."

Stiles dug a ten dollar bill from his pocket and slapped it on the counter, "Keep the change," he told Purple Hair with a mocking smile.

"Wow, big tipper, uh?" Purple Hair huffed.

Stiles growled wordlessly as he picked up the cups turning he held out one of them to the woman next to him, "For you, milady."

The woman blinked, "Really?"

Stiles nodded, "You looked like you really wanted something but the menu became the victim of your rage glare. And you can never go wrong with chocolate."

"Well, you're not wrong," she said taking the cup from Stiles, "though I was taught not to take things from strangers."

Stiles grinned and held out a hand, "Mitch Rapp," rolled off Stiles tongue as natural as breathing, he froze because that was not his name! You moron that was your undercover persona! Stiles thought to himself, but it was too late to take it back it would look strange if he did.

"Funny," she said, "you don't look like a Mitch," then took a sip of her drink, she sighed and frowned down at it, "it's never as good as my mom's was..."

"No," Stiles whispered looking down at his own cup for a moment, "it never is." He shook off the melancholy that was threatening to overwhelm him and smiled at her, "Well, now I'm not a stranger..."

The woman blinked before a light blush came to her cheeks, "Oh, right! Alexa Bane," she told him taking his hand.

"Do you want to join me?" Stiles motioned to one of the empty tables in the coffee shop.

Alexa's eye's widened, "I would really like to but I'm have to get to work-"

That was a rejection if Stiles had ever heard one.

"But do you have a phone?"

Stiles blinked and nodded dumbly, as he dug it out of his pocket and handed to Alex. Alex swiped at the screen and pushed a few buttons on the touchscreen.

"There," Alex said brightly handing the phone back, "now you have my number. Text me, and we can go for coffee some time. I really have to be going." She said walking towards the door, she paused and looked over her shoulder and gave him a small wave with her fingers before walking out of the door.

Stiles looked down at his phone and saw the contacted name, Hot Chocolate Girl.

Stiles thought for a moment before he typed out :Tomorrow at four? Here?

A couple of moments later he got a reply : Sure, see you then.


It wasn't until Stiles had gotten home when it hit him that he had a date. Stiles hadn't had a date since, well, Katrina. The woman he would have asked to marry him if it hadn't been for that day at the beach. Stiles shook thoughts of Katrina away, as he flopped down on his couch. He turned on the T.V. hoping for something mindless to watch. It wasn't long before his eyes grew heavy and he fell asleep.






"Why me?" Stiles asked Joxer. Stiles had spent the last seven years training under Joxer. The god was grooming him to be his Champion. It had taken that long for many of the mental wounds that the McCall Pack had inflicted on him to heel, even if the physical ones had only taken a couple of weeks.

"Why did you pick me?" Stiles had been sharing the god's bed for the last two years. Joxer was a kind and considerate lover and just fun to be around. He never treated Stiles like he was a bother or annoying. Not like a couple of his past lovers had.

Joxer smiled at Stiles was they walked through the Halls of Peace into a darker corridor, Stiles saw the décor, slowly shift from the whites and gray's that Joxer favored into blacks and reds. "You are one of the few people in the mortal realm that could understand what the Gods purpose was and weren't freaked out by it."

The Gods and Goddesses, Stiles knew got power from a mortal's prayers, but the gods and goddesses were also bound by duty to watch over and care for the mortals that prayed to them. For some of the gods this meant watching mortals from afar, for some, to be a part a mortals daily life but unknown to the mortals. Then you had those gods and goddesses that like mortals to know who they were and why they wanted to bother said mortals or mortal. These traits were not just something the Greek/Roman Gods did or do but many other gods, the Norse Gods, some of the Celtic Gods as well as the Native American just to name a few.

"No other reason?" Stiles asked.

"Seeking compliments, lover?" Joxer asked with a slight smirk. Stiles only gave a huffing pout at that. Joxer sighed, "You of all people know how hard it is to maintain peace. Look at Beacon Hills; it took so little to upset the balance and peace was lost."

"You mean the war that Kate Argent started among the Supernaturals when she murdered the Hales."

Joxer nodded, "The Hales were the best peacekeepers in that area and had been for generations. It was a painfully lost," the deep sadness and remorse shone in Joxer's eyes as he spoke of the Hale family.

The corridor soon gave way to a large chamber, in the middle of it was a throne made of black onyx, lined with blood-red velvet and had silver skulls and bones decorating the arms and back of it.

"Where are we?" Stiles asked, he had been nowhere but the Halls of Peace or in the mortal realm during this time.

"The Halls of War. " Joxer said softly, reverently.

"Why?" Stiles asked, confused.

As if in answer a male figure flashed into the room in a shower of black and red sparks, materializing on the throne. The god sat in the throne with one leg thrown over an arm, spinning a sharp, wicked-looking dagger in his hand. He was an imposing figure dressed in black leather pants, boots and a black leather vest with silver embellishments on it. The god, because what else could he be? Was very handsome, he had long, messy salt and pepper colored curls falling artfully around his face, a neatly trimmed goatee that had more black in it still than gray and his skin was tanned as if this god spent a good amount of time out under the sun. His eyes were a deep, rich, warm chestnut brown.

"Because my consort," the words were emphasized, by the dark god, "loves a lost cause."

Consort? Stiles wondered, "Consort?" He asked, Joxer.

Joxer sighed, "Ares," there was a warning tone to the god of peace's voice that had the dark god raising an eyebrow at. It made Stiles wonder if he was related to the Hales? Cause no one had eyebrow game like Derek Hale.

Then Stiles realized what Joxer had called the god. Ares. As in the God of War? Ares?

"Stiles is the first champion I've chosen in over four thousand years, be nice."

Ares looked offended, "I'm always nice to your champions."

Joxer gave him a dark look, "Gabrielle?"

"Oh, come on! She had that shit coming, Joxer." Ares muttered, "No one disrespects my consort. Champion or not."

Joxer crossed his arms over his chest, "You know want I want."

Ares snorted diversely at Stiles.

Rude, thought Stiles.

"Just because some bad things happened to him in the past? You think this guy as the mindset for this? To be your champion?" Ares shook his head, "I doubt he has what it takes."

"Double or nothing?" Wait, what? Who said that? Stiles realized it had been him.

Ares gave Stiles a once over, then rolled his eyes, to Joxer, he said, "The mortal thinks he knows things? Just because he's gone up against some supernatural creatures and beings? That he's a contender?"

Joxer narrowed his eyes at his consort, "If he can last in a fight with you for twenty seconds, you'll train him in a time bubble for thirty years."

"If he loses?" Ares asked.

" I'll have Discord or Strife train him. But I would rather have you do it, husband."

"Huh," Ares said tapping the dagger against his leg, "you only call me, husband, when you really want something. Fine, tomorrow at noon." He told them before disappearing in a shower of black and red sparks.

"What happens now?" Stiles asked.

"We hope everything you know and what I've taught you is enough."


Noon the next day rolled around sooner than Stiles or Joxer would have liked. After spending most of the night in a time bubble learning every dirty trick that Joxer knew and going over the many Stiles himself had picked up over the years. Stiles found himself in what looked to be a Grecian arena; the white marble shined with an otherworldly beauty. Stiles could see that many of seats were filled with gods, goddesses, and other immortal beings.

"Great, I always wanted the Gods to watch me get my ass kicked." Stiles moaned.

Joxer grinned, "You say that like we haven't watched that before."

Wonderful, Stile thought but said, "Any words of wisdom that will help me last longer than five seconds?"

Joxer frowned, he touched Stiles temple with a couple of fingers, Ares favors his left side, when in battle. Knock his weapon from his hands, and it will come buy you some time, from the shock of it if nothing else. Ares likes to showboat when fighting hand to hand. Also, he's less likely to kill you in hand to hand combat accidentally.

"If you two are finished?" Ares asked.

Joxer stepped away from Stiles glaring at his husband; he walked over to the white marble throne that on a dais next to a black one with a huff before sitting down on it.

"Chose your weapon, Kitsune, not that it will help you any." Ares smirked, "As the God of War and King of the Gods? I never lose."

Well, Stiles could see how his day was going to go.


A weapon, he needed a weapon, and he knew any sort of modern-day one was out. No guns or tanks or bombs...shame. He also knew his handy bat would be useless here. And a Katana was out. No way was he going up against the God of War with a sword. That would just be suicide. Luckily though Stiles had gotten pretty good with--

"Chinese Ring Daggers."

Ares raised an eyebrow, "Interesting choice."

A pair appeared in the air before Stiles. He had begun training with the weapons after Allison's death by the Nogitsune as a way to remember and honor his friend. Stiles reached out and took hold of the daggers. They were hefty, but also perfectly balanced and well made. He spun one around in his hand, oh, yeah, that felt right.

Joxer snapped his fingers, and a clock appeared hanging in the air, "Warriors?" He said getting Stiles and Ares attention. "You have twenty seconds, starting...Now!"

Stiles and Ares ran at each other.

Ares lunged forward with his sword; Stiles barely had time to block it with his daggers. Ares shoved Stiles back and almost off his feet. Stiles knew if he was going to have a chance he was going to have to...

Ares stumble back as the shadows on the ground began to wrap around his feet. Ares growled and stomped hard on one making it yowl. Ares looked up in time to see Stiles urge forward with his dagger; he hissed when it left a trail of blood on his bicep. He scowled when the crowd cheered. Ares glanced around and saw Stiles spinning one of his daggers lazily in his hand with a smirk but watchful eyes. He glanced back down at his wound then slowly back up and Stiles.

Stiles could see the rage in the god's eyes when he attacked with his sword. Ares punched Stiles in the face when he blocked the sword attack; he knocked Stiles to the ground.

That hurt, Stiles moaned to himself, before kipping to his feet.

"Ten seconds, have passed." Joxer intoned in a bland voice.

Stiles narrowed his eyes as he watched the war god shift his stands favoring his left side. Stiles got an idea. It would cause him to lose the fight, but there was no way he was going to win against the very being that was created to be the embodiment of the act of War. Stiles held up a hand, and...called down.




Ares dived out of the way of the first bolt of lightning. He could hear the crowd's cheers were getting louder now. He should have known better. Most Kitsunes could control some of natures elements. He had thought the shadows were Stiles foxfire abilities.

Ares had been wrong.

Ares frowned at the rumble of thunder, then smirked because two could play this game. Ares threw out his hand, and a bolt of lightning hit Stiles in the chest making the Kitsune stumble back with a shocked look.

"Did you forget, that I'm the King of the Gods, mortal?"

This is bad, Stiles thought as he ducked a sword swing, he stabbed at Ares' stomach with his dagger, but the god avoided the blow and kicked Stiles feet out from beneath him. Stiles landed on the ground hard enough that it stole his breath and he couldn't breathe for a moment.

"Fifteen seconds..."

Ares plunged his sword down, and it hit the dirt of the arena as Stiles disappeared suddenly. Ares frowned, pulling his sword from the soil. Slowly he turned in a circle looking for the fox. Then Ares felt it, the slightness stirring of the air behind him. Ares twisted quickly and in a backhand move of the sword blocked Stiles dagger that would have lodged beneath Ares shoulder blade if he hadn't.

"That was so cool," Stiles said.

"I know," Ares smirked at Stiles over his shoulder. Ares quickly swung the sword around and would have impaled Stiles in the chest if Stiles hadn't jump back as it was it left a deep score across Stiles' chest causing him to stagger back and collapse on the ground in pain. Ares pressed forward and raised his sword, the crowd went silent.

"Time's up!" Joxer exclaimed quickly jumping up from his throne. The crowd groaned in disappointment. Joxer knelt down by Stiles and placed a hand over his wound, healing it. He looked up at Ares, "Looks like you'll be training my champion."

Ares narrowed his eyes, "He didn't win the fight."

"That was never part of the terms. You said he had to last twenty-second in a fight with you and he did so, with a weapon no less. I'd say that was impressive."

Caught by his own words, Ares grimaced, as he said, "His training will begin at sunrise tomorrow," then he flashed away, angrily, leaving a trail of red and black sparks.

Stiles groaned, "He's going to kill me," as he sat up. He watched as the crowd in the arena slowly disappeared in a similar manner as Ares had.

"Don't be foolish," Joxer said, "You're only going to wish he had."

"Is it too late to change my mind about being your champion?" Stiles asked as Joxer helped him to his feet.

"Yes," Joxer said, flatly.