CLICHÉ-O-RAMA: Standard Melodrama Angst Plot #37. Did it on a dare -- Findle's fault. If Findle jumped off the Acropolis, would I jump off too? Probably.
TECHNICAL COMPLAINTS: Wow, has this sucker been sitting in the outbox a long time. The Ego's been waiting for everyone to get back from vacation so they can flame it appropriately, but I finally persuaded (bullied) the Ego into accepting that the fewer people that are around to read it, the better. The story looks a little stupider than need be in threes -- it doesn't really split naturally at any given point, but it's technically too large for a single post. I split it arbitrarily into threes to make it smaller and more convenient to post, and larger and less convenient to delete.
CONTINUITY WEENIE: A little before Chin, I think (and between "Retraction" and "Waiting for Xena", if you're keeping track of that kind of thing). Vague spoilers for everything that has happened up until that point.

Gabrielle worked the point of her sai into the small crack, blocking what little light filtered into the cavern. Refusing to think about that, she sawed back and forth, trying to widen the tiny opening. It wasn't going to work.

"That's not going to work," said Joxer from somewhere behind her.

"You can't even see what I'm doing, much less tell me if it's going to work or not." Grimly she concentrated on digging.

"You're trying to dig out of here with that pointy thing."

"It's a sai," she said through gritted teeth.

"It's not a shovel. It's not going to work."

It wasn't, so instead of digging with the sai maybe she would just turn around and throw it at him. It wouldn't get her out of here, but it would make being in here a lot more tolerable.

Possibly Joxer knew what she was thinking, because there was a Joxer-noise behind her, the combination of rustle, squeak, and soft muffled clank that accompanied any move he made while he insisted on wearing that thing, and she sensed him move back toward the cavern wall. A louder thump and a muffled curse told her he'd found it. "Look out for the wall," Gabrielle said sweetly.

"It's too damn dark in here."

"It's a cave. It's supposed to be dark."

"Not this dark. If you would stop blocking the light..."

She pulled the sai from the crack and inspected it hopefully. Before she'd started it had been a tiny opening, barely as long as her hand and razor-thin. Now it was a tiny opening, barely long as her hand and razor-thin. A pathetic bit of dim light leaked into the cave and vanished within inches, swallowed up in the gloom. "This isn't working," Gabrielle said in disgust and turned around, forgetting that in order to get to the crack she had climbed some six feet from the floor.

She went down much faster than she had gone up, falling hard upon something which she hoped to Artemis hadn't been her sai. Joxer made no noise of even vague concern, which probably meant he was really mad. For some reason realizing this made her even madder. "Joxer," she snarled.

"Look out for the first step," he said.

Taking inventory, Gabrielle realized she had not impaled herself, and whatever she was lying on was not the sai but rather of a round and fist-sized nature. She picked herself up off it, wincing. "This," she said, referring maybe to the cavern, maybe to the fall, maybe to the round thing, maybe to her entire life, "is all your fault. If you weren't such a clumsy idiot..."

"I'm not the one who just fell."

"If you hadn't been such a clumsy idiot, and if you hadn't been all over me like, like a fungus, none of this would have happened."

"I don't think so," he said, enunciating each word carefully, the way he did whenever he was being really, really insufferable. "I don't think so. I think this time it was your fault."

"No way."

"I think if somebody hadn't lost their temper and drawn attention to us by screeching like an Athenian fishwife, the situation would not have gotten out of hand the way it did."

"Bite me." She hefted the round thing in her hand. It was slightly pointed at one end and slightly rough at another, and its not-quite-smooth surface felt vaguely familiar.

"And if somebody keeps carrying on, somebody is going to use up all the air in here, and then where will we be?"

"I don't know where you'll be, but I'll be a heck of a lot better off." There was probably enough air filtering in through the crack, and several smaller cracks like it that she had found, to prevent her having to find out. She hoped.

"Fine." She couldn't see him in the darkness, but she could easily visualize him leaning back and looking up in that incredibly obnoxious way he had. "Go ahead, deny you caused this whole thing, Miss-In-Charge, Miss I'm-the-Hero-And-You're-The-Sidekick, Miss What-Are-You-Going-To-Do-About-It."

Gabrielle's fingernails bit into the object, and a familiar smell came from it. Turnip. That's what it was, a turnip. Good enough. She fired it in the direction of his voice and was rewarded with a satisfyingly loud splat.

Peace and quiet. Xena shoved the thought away guiltily, but there it was again: peace and quiet, how wonderful. She concentrated on mending the loose stitching on Argo's bridle, small careful stitches of the kind that were impossible to do when people were wandering around talking and bickering and yammering and -- and just ruining the peace and quiet. Xena gave up feeling guilty and just enjoyed it.

Argo, hobbled a few yards away, whinnied conversationally.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," Xena told her.

Which wouldn't be long. Gabrielle and Joxer should be back before nightfall. Xena had seen the look in Gabrielle's eyes this morning when she'd left for town on the supply run, and there was no doubt whatsoever that as soon as she and Joxer got back the nice peace and quiet would be totally gone.

"I like this. No noise, no confusion, no action. Just you, and me, and-- " Xena patted her rounding belly-- "whoever."

The mare snorted.

"Just wait till she or he gets born. No more peace and quiet for anyone, not for years."

Argo stamped a foot, and resumed grazing.

No more peace and quiet once Gabrielle returned, anyway. Having her hapless suitor following her around all day probably hadn't improved her mood much, and she'd be complaining all evening. Then on top of that Joxer would probably be argumentative and need disciplining; or worse, if Gabrielle had really lit into him, shell-shocked and Xena would have to waste time coaxing him back to the fire with bits of food. Either way there would be confusion and noise and irritation and this wonderful peace and quiet would be shot all to hell. "I should send him away," Xena said, holding the bridle up in the late afternoon light and studying the stitches with a critical eye.

Argo, who had heard this before, whickered disdainfully.

"No, I mean it this time," Xena said idly. She did mean it. She had meant it for years. She would get around to it one day. Maybe not today, though, because the afternoon was so fine and the breeze so warm, and the peace and quiet so satisfying. Of course, maybe if she waited long enough, she wouldn't have to. Gabrielle was growing tense lately, and Gabrielle's tension had never bode well for poor Joxer. Xena had a growing feeling that Gabrielle was about to take care of the unpleasant task for her.

Xena spread out the bridle in her lap and pulled on the straps, satisfied. Some things mended so easily. "I hope she doesn't hurt him too badly," she said to Argo, who flicked an ear but made no other comment.

"You probably killed me. I hope you're happy now."

"You're not killed. You're too loud to be killed."

"I could have a concussion here. I'm probably going to keel right over and die. Just look at this."

"It's almost pitch dark in here," Gabrielle explained carefully. Joxer always needed to have the obvious spelled out for him.

"I might be bleeding to death."

"You're not bleeding. It was only a turnip."

"It was like a rock. I've got a lump out to here -- You can't go around throwing vegetables at people, you could put somebody's eye out."

"Weren't you dying? How about if you hurry up about it?"

"My head feels like -- You know, your aim is pretty good. Considering how dark it is and everything."

Gabrielle hadn't really wanted to be reminded of that. "The sun's going down."

"I thought you said Xena would be along any minute."

"I'm sure she will be," said Gabrielle, although with less confidence than she might have said it an hour earlier. The small amount of light was gone and the distant noise had almost ceased, meaning it was approaching nightfall -- and it was a new moon, which made night travel almost impossible. If Xena couldn't get to them in the next hour or so, they might stay trapped in here all... No, she couldn't bring herself to think it.

"She doesn't even know where we are," Joxer said.

This was annoyingly close to Gabrielle's own thoughts on the matter, but at least she knew better than to say it out loud. "Don't talk stupid," she snapped.

"Well, all I can say is if I was Xena, I wouldn't think to look for us here."

"If you were Xena, we wouldn't even be here."

"You wouldn't be throwing turnips at me, anyway." His voice climbed into its nasal complaining register again. "I'll probably be scarred for life, you know."

"Joxer, would you please just shut up about your stupid imaginary bump?"

"It is not imaginary."

"It is so. Quit whining. You're always whining."

"Quit complaining about me whining. You're always complaining about me whining, which I don't whine anyway."

"You do so. Every little thing is a major crisis with you."

"Well, maybe if a guy didn't have to be practically dead or something to get a little sympathy around here, maybe he wouldn't have to ask for any."

"Well," Gabrielle shot back, "maybe if a guy stopped feeling so damn sorry for himself all the time, maybe he'd get some."

"Hah! Look who's talking."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

Joxer stopped saying whatever it was he was about to say just in time to save his life. Instead he muttered, "Nothing. Forget it."

"Fine," she snapped.

"Fine."

There was a silence for a few moments. Gabrielle tried to enjoy it, but for some reason could not and found herself speaking into it. "Xena has to have missed us by now," she said, as much to herself as to him. "I'm sure she'll be along to bail us out any minute now. Any minute," she repeated, as if saying it would make it so.

The peace and quiet had unexpectedly lasted throughout the afternoon and into the evening, and here it was nighttime and still no sign of Gabrielle or Joxer. Xena lay on her back and looked at the stars. "Beautiful night, isn't it?" she asked Argo, who was not one for stargazing and didn't reply.

Really, she enjoyed nights with no moon. Too dark for enemies to be about, massively pretty star-spangled skies, and tonight this wonderful bonus of silence. She pushed back the mild uneasiness she felt about Gabrielle's continued absence. She and Joxer must have remained in town too late and because of the dark roads been forced to stay over. Xena decided she'd go into town first thing in the morning and meet up with them. Obviously her earlier fears had been groundless as well. They hadn't gotten into one of those silly knockdown fights they were more and more prone to lately. They'd probably just had a nice afternoon talking and poking around town and lost track of time. Kind of sweet, when you thought about it.

Gabrielle had abandoned the fruitless digging for a couple of hours of equally fruitless shouting for help. Now not only was it dark and cold, but her throat hurt, too. I'm lucky I don't get an ague, she thought sourly, slumping against the chill wall.

"This isn't gonna work," Joxer croaked. "Don' think anybody heard us. Or if they did, they didn' care." He had been mildly helpful -- loud was something Joxer was good at -- but the additional volume had proved pointless. Gabrielle rubbed her throat, trying to free it up enough to speak, and only half-succeeded. "We're not getting out of here tonight," she said in a tone that was annoyingly close to a squeak. She coughed and tried again. "We're stuck here until the morning anyway." Even though she knew she shouldn't, she found herself adding, "I hope you're happy now."

For a minute she hoped Joxer wouldn't pick up the gauntlet, but he said, "You know, you're awful hostile lately."

"Yeah, well, maybe I have cause to be."

"Maybe you're just cranky."

"Maybe you're just impossible."

"What am I doing that's impossible?"

"Well, sticking to me like a six-foot tick, for starters."

"I am not."

"You are so. Ever since you got this, this stupid notion into your head..." She caught herself before she finished the sentence and hoped he wouldn't pick up on it.

Unfortunately he did and said in a cool, brittle voice, "What 'stupid notion' was that?"

A very odd tone from Joxer. He sounded like he was getting mad, but Joxer never got mad, not seriously anyway. He was bluffing. She called it. "This stupid notion of yours where all of a sudden you imagine you're in love with me."

He was silent for a moment and when he spoke he surprised her. "'All of a sudden'," he repeated dryly, and was quiet again.

She'd been expecting outraged protest and bitter arguing over the phrases "stupid notion" or "in love", but not "all of a sudden". That part was obvious. It had been all of a sudden. Joxer was given to overreacting when he was nervous, and people being dead and everything had made him a little twitchy, so he had obviously all of a sudden projected his fear of abandonment on her, and that's how he had come up with this stupid notion of his, and it was making her really mad that she was the only one who could see it. Even Xena seemed to have been falling for the line and kept wanting to talk to her about it, a conversation which she'd continually refused to have because the whole thing was absolutely ridiculous.

Still, Gabrielle had a feeling she shouldn't have touched on this subject, which made her feel guilty, and the guilt made her feel defensive, and now she felt bad and it was all his fault, so her reply was louder and sharper and -- she realized after the fact -- nastier than it needed to be. "You're driving me absolutely crazy, me and Xena both. You're totally impossible lately, and Xena won't tell you because she has other things to worry about, so I figured it was up to me. Why do you think I let you come with me today, anyway? I wanted to get you away from her so in case you had one of your hysterical fits when I told you to shove off so we could get some darn peace and quiet for a change it wouldn't upset her. I..."

Her words trailed off into an awkward silence as she realized, a little too late, that she had gone too far, and she waited nervously for a reaction. She didn't get one. Instead, the silence deepened and intensified, and the cave seemed to grow a little colder.

Gabrielle shivered, and waited while the silence drew out, longer and longer and... "Well." She shook her head in a nervous gesture that was totally wasted in the darkness. "We're not going to get anywhere tonight. Might as well try to get some sleep, and we'll think of something in the morning." This cheerful observation was met with more silence. Suddenly very glad she could not see, she turned about and groped for the wall, carefully feeling her way along it until she was sure she was as far away from Joxer as possible; then she slid down against it, pulled her knees up to her chest, closed her eyes, and started berating herself fervently.

She wasn't sure at what point she had fallen asleep and woke slowly, disoriented and out of sorts. Her neck was stiff and her back was stiff and there was mud on her cheek where she had been leaning against the wall of the cavern, and she felt cold and cramped and grouchy as hell. She sat up straight, painfully slowly, trying to rub the kinks out of her neck. Far above she could see the feeble light filtering through the cracks. Morning, then.

"How did you sleep?" Joxer asked from somewhere on the other side of the cave.

Her first instinct was to feel around for another turnip. How do you think I slept, she almost started to stay, stuck in this stupid damp hole in the stupid ground? -- and stopped herself. Okay, it had been a dumb question, but he hadn't meant anything by it. That was the problem with Joxer. Well, one of the problems anyway. He kept going around acting like a jerk, but he wasn't a jerk at heart, and she knew it. Why couldn't he just be a jerk and make everything simple? That was the other problem with Joxer. He made everything too complicated.

She said none of this. Instead she said, "Lousy."

On top of the cold and the damp and the dirt there had been the guilt. Loads of guilt. Much more than the situation warranted, she told herself fiercely. After all, he had been asking for it and he had deserved it, and she just had been a little blunter about it than she'd meant to be. That was all. "How do you think I slept?" she asked, feeling irritated again. "I was sitting up all night and I have a crick in my neck and it's too cold and I woke up too early and you have to start talking before I can fall back asleep. Nobody around here ever lets me sleep in." Somehow she sensed him going very quiet and still at that last statement, as if it was entirely the wrong thing to say. Odd.

Still, just about everything was the wrong thing to say at this point, so she swallowed any apology she might have started to make, hugged herself tightly against the chill, and leaned back against the wall.

Xena drummed her fingers on one of the few remaining tables in the ruins of the tavern, and tried not to betray what she was thinking. Outwardly she was calm and focused. Inwardly she was cursing herself with great invention.

"You're lucky you came from the west," said the innkeeper. "And you're lucky you came today, instead of yesterday." He leaned on his broom and indicated the wreckage littering what used to be his common-room with a wave of a hand.

"What happened?"

"What didn't happen?" The man shrugged. "Bandits came through again. They've been holed up north of town for about a month and come down every few days for food and... entertainment. The magistrate thinks they're probably waylaying travelers on the north road and either killing 'em or selling them to slavers. He left a few days ago to get help from the towns at the foot of the mountain, but he should've been back by now and he isn't. They probably nabbed him too, I shouldn't wonder."

"Two friends of mine came into town here about noon yesterday and didn't return last night."

"Well, if they came from the west they should have been fine. As long as they didn't try to leave by the north road. Or the bandits didn't carry 'em off." He swept more broken crockery out from under the table and pushed it into one of the growing piles of clay fragments and dust on the floor. "Three hundred dinars' worth of pottery I lost yesterday, can you believe that? Three hundred dinars. No one stayed here last night. For obvious reasons."

Inwardly Xena cursed some more, and considered the possibilities. They could have found some other place to stay and left already, but then she should have met them on the road. Unless they took the wrong route by accident. Or on purpose. Chasing bandits -- that would be just the kind of reckless, irresponsible thing Gabrielle would be likely to do, just to prove she could take care of herself. And of course Joxer would follow her. Or the kind of incredibly stupid thing Joxer would be likely to do, just because... just because he could be so incredibly stupid sometimes. And of course Gabrielle would go along to keep him out of trouble... "These bandits, does anyone know where their base is?"

"Everyone," said the innkeeper, sadly regarding the pile of pottery shards. "There's an old mine about a league from the town. You can see the ruins from the main road, can't miss it. Although Zeus knows why you wouldn't want to. You're not going after them, are you? I mean, in your condition and all."

"I don't really have any choice."

"Suit yourself." The man shrugged and returned to his sweeping. Apparently amidst the excitement of bandits and slave raids and missing magistrates and expensive bar fights, the spectacle of a pregnant woman charging out to raid an armed camp singlehanded was too mundane for more than passing comment. Which suited Xena fine.

She went outside. Argo stood, bored and inert, at the hitching-post; she swung her head curiously toward Xena and flicked her ears forward.

"Problems," Xena told her briefly. She swung into the saddle with somewhat less grace than usual -- her belly was definitely large enough now to throw her balance off -- and it took her a minute to regain her equilibrium. Argo stamped. "Big problems," Xena said. "Geeyup."

Argo shook her head, champing the bit fretfully for a moment, then moved off. So much for the peace and quiet, her demeanor suggested.

"Yeah," Xena agreed. "Nice while it lasted, though."

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