Rating: PG
Violence: Slight - one serious owie, but nothing fatal.
Sex: Nope - darn.

This story has been carefully examined, in fact, every nit has been picked, by Chris Shultz. Thank you so much. I seriously couldn't do this without your help, Chris. You manage to be both fan and constructive critic, and that makes a great package.

This one started out because I wanted to try a Jett story, then Nebula wandered in to make things interesting. She just demanded to be here - and who was I to argue? Enjoy, friends...

Bad boys in leather, Xena thought, what exactly is wrong with me? She looked their prisoner over carefully. He was looking at the ground, and didn't seem to feel her hard stare. As far as bad boys went, he certainly qualified. In fact, she was fairly sure that they were taking him to his own death sentence for one of his crimes, although she might have something to say about that when they reached their destination. Not that he didn't deserve it though, if not for this particular crime, then for one of the many others he had committed. No, she had personal reasons to try and commute the sentence. She owed it to her friend...

The strange thing was, he didn't look like her type, really. In spite of the leather, he was cool, elegant even. He moved with the grace of a dancer, and held himself like a prince. Most of the men she had found, uh, interesting, were big, burly types - heavily built and about as subtle as a team of oxen. Even the more polished ones, like Marcus or Hercules, would never be called lean, as this man would. But she knew that under the black leather he wore were the muscles of a panther - long and smooth, but nonetheless powerful. And she knew that he could be dangerous - very dangerous... and there was something about this that interested her. Although she knew that, like Marcus or Draco, if she could get close enough to this man, she would try to convince him to change, to live for the greater good. She lived for the challenge.

She pulled her gaze away, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction her thoughts were traveling. She looked across the fire at her best friend, noticing that she too was studying the prisoner with interest, although her face wore a more puzzled expression. The Warrior Princess could understand why. It was a little like looking in a mirror, and seeing someone else in your own eyes. She shook herself when she realized - Gabrielle had already done that once, having seen the stranger in her own reflection. Now she was seeing something foreign in another familiar countenance.

The bard couldn't understand how this man could look so much like Joxer, yet be so little like him. How they could even have come from the same family, let alone be identical twins, was an idea beyond her comprehension. His eyes - they were so much like Hope's. The eyes were hard and cold. Although not entirely like Hope's, she mused - there had been no humanity hiding in her eyes, while Jett's still held a lingering trace.

Jett had felt them all studying him, but didn't want to give them the satisfaction of a response. Now though, he raised his head, and looked the little blonde right in the face. He almost laughed out loud, watching her desperate attempt to relocate her gaze, to appear to be looking at something, anything else. He glanced over at Joxer, who shook his head sadly and frowned. Jett scowled. He didn't know how good he had it, did he? He seemed to look sad most of the time - when he wasn't acting stupid. His blind devotion to the little bard was sickening - all the more so because it was obvious he couldn't see that she cared about him, too. But that was Joxer all over - he'd rather have the bad thing he was sure of, than take a chance on something better. His brother had always refused to give up on anything that worked, no matter how poorly. Jett realized, in a brief flash of empathy, that if their family had treated him the way they had treated Jox, he'd have been long gone well before the age Joxer was when he finally left. But his idiot brother had figured this was his home and family, and he'd best stick with it. At least he seemed to have found a new family - and while they didn't exactly pour their love out on him, there seemed to be true caring and affection between them. In any case, it certainly was better than the boys had growing up.

Do I really care if they execute him? Joxer thought briefly, watching his brother torment his beloved. Yeah, I guess I do. But he couldn't worry about that - Xena had promised him that she'd work it out. When summoned by Cleopatra to bring Jett to Egypt, she had contacted Joxer right away. They all knew that once Cleopatra regained her throne, one of her first exercises would be to rid the world of as many of her enemies as she could reach. Jett was not terribly high on the list at first, but his name had finally reached the top. Right now, as he sat beside the fire, wrists and ankles bound in chains, the assassin still managed to look as if he owned the world. Of course, getting him out of that ugly prison garb had helped. Joxer had never really understood why he kept that black leather suit he bought before he ran into Jett the last time, but now he knew. His brother just didn't look right in rags.

Jett cleared his throat. "Um, I need to use the," he jerked his head towards the woods, "forest." Xena lifted one eyebrow, her expression blank. She looked him over, then turned to his brother.

"Okay, Joxer, take him and stand guard." Jett rose carefully to his feet. There was enough play in the chains on both his wrists and ankles that he could get around adequately, just not enough that he could run or do anything else that would give him freedom. Joxer adjusted his makeshift armor, and the brothers clanked and rattled off together into the dark woods, Xena's eyes following them until the shadows drew them in. She turned her gaze upon the bard. "So," she asked, "what do you think?"

"About what?" Gabrielle stalled, not sure how to answer the question.

"The last time we saw him, we didn't get to compare them much, did we? They sure are different - they can't possibly share the same blood. Jett could really be a hero, if he chose to go that path - he at least has the skills."

Gabrielle rallied to Joxer's defense. "Wait a minute! I know Joxer is no Hercules, but you yourself said he had the heart of a lion! He could be a hero too," she slowed a bit, thinking, "as long as it didn't require strength or cunning." She looked a bit sad, realizing that she was damning him with her faint praise. Still, she knew in a way she couldn't verbalize that her previous statement had been true - Joxer was worth a thousand Jetts. She just couldn't explain why.

Xena smiled briefly. It was hardly a ringing defense, but it was good to hear that Gabrielle cared enough about Joxer to speak out for him. This was progress. She got kind of tired of the two playing what appeared to be children's games with each other - both trying to see how far they could push the other emotionally without actually making contact. Gabrielle would push Joxer away to see of he kept coming back, and he would push his feelings at her without either ever coming out and talking about them, leaving both confused. She turned her thoughts back to the original subject of discussion.

It did bother her that this man looked almost exactly like the sweet and courageous would-be warrior that was so often a part of their team. She cared a great deal for Joxer; of that, there was no question, at least in her mind. She might never tell him, though, simply because she didn't feel he needed to know about her feelings. Xena wanted him to stay around - that was enough sign of her affection in his eyes, and she knew it. She always felt as if she were taking care of younger siblings - first with Gabrielle, who had finally grown up some, and now with Joxer. In her heart, she felt as if were helping her mother with Lyceus all over again, but this time she was bound and determined to keep her little brother alive.

Part of what bothered her about the thoughts she had about Jett were a result of being even slightly attracted to someone who looked like her new "little brother." Although the thing that had initially drawn her, that animal essence inside, was almost completely absent from Joxer, and as a result, she rarely noticed the physical resemblance. Still, when it did display itself to her, it was disconcerting. And Egypt was not nearby. This was going to be a long trip, and she needed to deal with this problem, soon.

Joxer stood discretely aside while his brother took care of things. While he still had his back turned, Jett asked him, "So how much have you told them?"

"About what?" Joxer asked, already irritated by the fact that he had to share his closest friends with his cruel brother. He wasn't sure he wanted Jett to get enough information about their life together, such as it was, to use against any of them. He loved his brother, but he sure didn't trust him.

"About our family, idiot. Do they know what Dad did for a living? How about Jace?" Jett loved to watch his brother squirm, and he obligingly did so.

Joxer's voice was so low, the assassin had to strain his ears. "They know about Dad - generally. You know we aren't supposed to talk about Jace." It was bad enough that they thought he had a twin brother like Jett - how much worse if they knew that they were really triplets, and what the third one was like. Jett saw his brother's expression, and filed the knowledge for future use. Blackmail was a handy tool. Trying to change the subject, Joxer suggested, "Why don't I take you down to the stream to wash your hands?"

Jett grinned. "Still Mr. Tidy, huh?" He marched on, singing, "Joxer the tidy, always plays insid-ee..." Joxer rubbed at the beginning of a headache he was suffering, and followed his look-alike.

Back by the fire, the two women sat lost in their thoughts. Suddenly, Xena jumped up and drew her sword. Gabrielle stared at her. "I hear someone coming," Xena said, softly.

Gabrielle answered, annoyed, "It's only Joxer and Jett." Still, she matched the warrior's volume and tone.

"No," Xena insisted, "A deaf man could hear them. This is someone who's trying to be very quiet." She turned suddenly, and pointed her sword in the shadows.

"Whoa, honey, I don't need any new parts of me pierced," a sultry female voice protested. The owner of the voice stepped out of the shadows, and Gabrielle couldn't help but staring.

"Cleopatra?" she choked out. If it was, this was a new look for the Egyptian ruler. She was wearing tight leather pants and a skimpy matching top, adorned with gold jewelry and several visible weapons. "We're bringing him to you, why are you here?"

"Ya know," the mysterious woman mused, "Somebody else told me I looked like her. That information really could be useful some day. Would you put that sword away, girl?" she fussed at Xena.

"Not until you tell us who you are, and why you're here." Xena knew this wasn't Cleopatra, but the coincidence of her look-alike appearing while they were on their way to see the queen greatly disturbed her sense of order. Why did it seem that everyone she ever knew had a twin?

"Name's Nebula. From what I've heard and seen, you must be Xena. We have a mutual friend - Hercules." Nebula's confident expression faltered, and Xena wondered what had happened between her and Hercules. From what she had heard, his life had been difficult recently, and she wondered if this woman had something to do with it. Nebula continued. "I've been away for a while, but I missed the freedom I used to enjoy, so I was thinking about getting back in the pirate business. I was traveling to the coast to find myself a crew - you two interested?" It sounded more like a challenge than an invitation.

Gabrielle never enjoyed a conversation that might end up on board a ship. "We have a job to do, Xena. We can't do that."

Xena was thinking. Although she knew the bard's dislike of water travel, logic dictated they make the best possible pace. "Gabrielle, you know traveling by water would take less than half the time it would by land." She turned to Nebula. "We couldn't be your permanent crew, but we sure could use your help. Do you already have a boat?" The pirate nodded. "If we help you round up a crew, would you take us to Egypt?"

Nebula only had to think a minute. "Y'know, I'd like to get a peep at this Cleo chick, anyway. She must be quite a looker." The dark woman flipped her hair back over her shoulder. "Sure, why not?" Just then, two very similar men emerged from the shadows on the other side of the camp, one dressed in black leather with a nasty smile on his face, and the other, dressed in ragtag leathers and furs and dented armor, looking sullen. Nebula stared in surprise. "Who are these guys, Yin and Yang?"

The one in black went pale, if it were possible to get such a light complexion any lighter. "Cleopatra?" he gasped, fear showing on his cocky face.

The pirate turned to Xena. "I may get real sick of this, real soon." She looked at the two men. The dark one was regaining his composure, which it looked as if he was not used to loosing. He had a hard look to him, like someone to whom compassion was a just a word. He was, Nebula noted, manacled at the wrists and ankles. "Is this the 'he' Blondie said you were bringing 'me'?" she asked Xena. "What'd he do, or do you just like your men kept under control?" She smiled suggestively at the shackled figure. "He doesn't look so bad. Can I play, too?"

She turned her gaze on the other one, who looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head. He reminded her of a little boy who occupied an overgrown body- his face just glowed innocence, and although she had the feeling he was no coward, he was no mental gymnast, either. His armor was absurd, particularly the helmet. Still, something about him reminded her a little of Iolaus when they had first met. Her cheeky smile faded. She still missed him so much...

Xena chose to ignore the last few comments. "Joxer, Jett, this is Nebula. She's going to help us get to Egypt." Jett scowled. "We're going to be part of her crew."

Joxer moved to the blonde girl's side. "Gabby, 'crew' means a ship. Are you okay with this?" He put his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, not entirely happily, shrugged and nodded. He squeezed her shoulder and turned to the Warrior Princess. "You in a hurry to get my brother executed, Xena?" he asked, his voice harsh.

Nebula noticed shock in the faces of the other two watching. The tall woman glared at him, but he only backed off slightly. "Joxer, I'm going to let you get away with that because I know the strain of this situation has frayed all our nerves. But don't ever question my plans like that again." Her voice sunk to a growl, and the man suddenly seemed to wake up and realize the position he had put himself in. He retreated nervously to the edge of the camp - the other edge of the camp, far away from Xena.

His twin laughed humorlessly. "Amazing. I can't believe you had the ba... lughh." His sentence was cut off when the warrior woman grabbed him by the throat.

"Your brother risked his neck standing up to me over you," she snarled at the startled assassin. "The least you could do is show a little respect."

Nebula sidled over to the small blonde woman. "All a bit touchy, aren't we?" she whispered.

"It's a very weird situation," the bard whispered back. "Come with me, I'll explain."

By the time the dusky woman and the blonde returned, the camp was set for sleep. "Nebula, you take the first watch," Xena commanded. Normally, the pirate would have argued with her tone, but after the complicated tale Gabrielle had shared, she figured she'd wait and play King of the Hill with this woman some other time. Things were tense enough among this group already. She noted with some amusement that the assassin's chains had been drawn tight around his ankles and wrists, removing most of his mobility. Even so, he had still managed to regain his expression of superiority. She had to admit, it sounded as if he had an impressive resume. He could be a man that would prove useful. She sat down before the fire, watching the others settle in for the night.

Gabrielle lay on her back, staring at the stars. She couldn't sleep. What possessed Joxer to go after Xena earlier? she wondered. What did Jett say to him in the woods? Her mind went again to the contrast between the two. She had always thought of Joxer as rather a fool - loyal and harmless, but annoying at best. She hadn't stopped to examine her changing feelings about the would-be warrior before, or the changes he had experienced. But being faced with his brother, the antithesis of everything he was, made her appreciate the gentle man who followed her and Xena. She knew her sister had a crush him - she'd all but admitted it by her actions at Gabrielle's birthday party. Her parents even seemed to like him. Xena allowed him to travel with them, and the bard knew that meant a lot. Other people seemed to care so much for and about him - why had she never felt that way?

Or, had she never felt that way? Her life had been a swirl of pain and confusion lately. She often wasn't sure how she felt about anything anymore. Still - she thought of her failed "Way of Peace" - you had to admire a man who was raised with nothing but hatred and bloodshed as his example, and still he had kept his heart pure. Even his loss of blood innocence wasn't accompanied by the same loss of real innocence she had suffered. She had become a shell of the naive girl who took off after Xena, talking her way into her companionship. So much had changed since then. She had loved and lost, more than once, hardening her heart with each new failure. She sighed. She wondered if she would even recognize real love if it stared her in the face, anymore. Xena loved her. Could Joxer? Did she want him to? All she knew for sure was that she couldn't stand looking at Jett when she knew how much his very existence tortured Joxer's soul. It drove her crazy to see how much the assassin enjoyed making his brother uncomfortable. And she supposed that meant she cared about Joxer after all. Alone with her thoughts, she finally fell into a restless sleep.

It was a quiet group that headed for the coast the next morning. Gabrielle was morose, lost in some thought that consumed her. Joxer was more skittish than usual, keeping his distance from the Warrior Princess, who wore a grimly determined expression. Nebula decided the only person worth walking with was the assassin. She strode beside him in comfortable silence, waiting him out. Finally, her curiosity got the best of her. "So, what makes a guy like you become an assassin?" she asked, conversationally.

"What makes a girl like you become a pirate?" he shot back.

She laughed. "I guess I just didn't want to go into the family business," she replied, lightly.

He nodded. "Well, I did."

Seeming satisfied with the answer, the pirate woman nodded. "Ever consider another line of work? Your brother seems to do pretty well traveling with these two." She motioned to the group ahead.

Jett grunted. "My brother is only still alive because they take pity on him and protect him. On most days, he barely has enough money for essentials, and nobody knows or cares who he is. I live the good life, my name is well known, and I don't owe anybody anything."

"So why are you in chains, and he's free? Doesn't sound like you got the better deal here."

Jett looked down, silent. As much as he had tried to convince himself that he preferred his own existence to Joxer's, he really had to concede the point. His foolish brother, the wimp, the clown - he had a life to be envied. He was doing what he really wanted to do - traveling with both the woman he loved and the most famous warrior for good that ever lived (besides Hercules). People didn't know or admire him, but they rarely hunted or despised him, either. He was content with his simple lifestyle. Jett had already seen that there were things here money couldn't buy, things he had never noticed, or missed before. Things like companionship and affection - although he knew his presence among the group was already beginning to strain some of those very things.

Nebula studied the contemplative criminal. She knew the paths his mind wandered, having walked them herself so recently. It was a hard decision as a pirate to start cooperating with a hero like Hercules - their goals weren't terribly similar. But she had found satisfaction in working beside him. Enough satisfaction that when Iolaus had died saving her, and she had to decide whether or not to stay and reclaim the Sumerian throne, which was rightfully hers, the choice seemed clear. The right thing was to try to bring her country back from the mess her brother had placed it in. But things were going well again, and she had good advisors and aides. When she chose to leave them in charge and come back to her former life for a while, partly to find a way to get over the loss of Iolaus, she knew where her real place was. She belonged on her throne, and she would go back there again, she was certain. Jett had nowhere to go, and no one who seemed to care much, either. His brother, maybe, but it was clear where Joxer's heart belonged, and it wasn't in helping his twin build a new life. Left on his own, she was sure the assassin would go back to doing what he did best, and that wouldn't be a good thing. He needed new options...

The pirate queen would have been surprised if she had known how her thoughts were paralleling those of a certain Warrior Princess. Xena was sure that, unless Jett had a serious change of heart before they reached Egypt, the chances of Cleopatra showing mercy were even less than zero. Even if he did, it was going to take some serious diplomacy to get her to allow him to go free. Normally, she would assign the "talking" part to Gabrielle, but she noticed that her friend seemed to dislike even looking at Jett. She probably wouldn't be the best choice for his defense. And as for assigning the job to Joxer, well, the whole idea was to save Jett, not give the executioner a two-fer. There was Nebula, but Xena really didn't know her well enough. Well, she thought, if you want something done well, you always have to do it yourself. But first she needed to work on Jett's character.

They were each so absorbed in their own thoughts that none of them ever heard the highwaymen approach until they were around them. There were only four, but they had the element of surprise on their side. Gabrielle gripped her staff while Joxer and Xena unsheathed their swords. Nebula pulled a good-sized knife out of her boot, stepping in front of the manacled assassin. The robbers hesitated only slightly, but decided to go on, a decision they could only hope they would live to regret.

The battle was fast and furious. Jett, feeling fairly helpless, tried his best to avoid getting in the way of any of the heavy fighting. This, for a man of action and violence, was perhaps the worst punishment of all. He hadn't really minded the chains, since he was still fairly mobile, until now. In his frustration, eyeing an approaching thief, he swung his clasped hands at the attacker, whose chin snapped sharply up, and that threat was no longer.

Before long, Xena was hovering over the only remaining conscious thief, having applied the neck pinch. Her concern was that this had been a sponsored attack, disguised as a mere robbery. The terrified, gasping thief assured her that it had been a simple case of bad judgment - his. "We looked you over and figured - hey, three women, a dork and a guy in chains - how hard can it be?" Xena released the pinch, and the man regained his breath and then scurried away.

Xena looked up at her traveling companions. "Everybody okay?" she asked them. "Hey, where's Joxer?"

Jett's head snapped up, and his dark eyes started searching the road. No bodies, he thought, good. Then he turned toward a sound in the shrubbery beside the road. Moving nearer, he watched as his brother stumbled out, clutching a bloody wound on his arm. His face was pale, and his eyes a bit glassy. He reached the road, where he fell to his knees. Gabrielle appeared from nowhere at Joxer's arm, and Jett knelt down on the other side.

"Joxer, what happened?" the bard cried out, trying to peel his fingers away so she could examine the wound. "Please let me look." He relaxed his grip, and she gasped slightly when she saw the depth of the cut.

"It's only a scratch," the young man said, with bravado, but quickly followed the statement with a small whimper. "It just hurts so much."

Jett reached out, his hands moving almost together due to the chains, and took his brother's good hand in both his own. "That's way more than a scratch, Jox. It needs to be cleaned and bandaged. It's probably going to hurt pretty badly. Just squeeze my hand if you need to." His gruff voice was soft, filled with affection. Gabrielle, who had moved in front of Joxer to give Xena room to work and to hold his injured arm steady, looked up in surprise. The voice she heard didn't match the man she thought she'd been seeing the past few days. Joxer stiffened as Xena began her ministrations, and Gabrielle turned her attention back to the wounded twin.

Conclusion >>>