DRAMATIS PERSONAE:

Xena: Warrior Princess
Gabrielle: Warrior Bard (Hey - it's true!)
Joxer: Warrior Spunky Man (That's true too).
Mirimai: Total bint, no sense of self-reliance.
Harlan: Long suffering husband (For some reason I envisioned a young Dennis Quaid in this role *shrugs*)

Chronology notes: After Chakram, sans Amarice (some of you will be happy to know) and I'm totally dismissing any notions of fitting into the series or continuity. It's just "some time in the 5th season".

Joxer stumbled through the undergrowth, swearing as he tugged at a stick on the floor. He glanced to the woman next to him, smiling timidly. Her blonde hair flipped about in the brisk breeze, and as she glanced up to catch his gaze, her green eyes almost seemed to glow.

"Thanks for helping me Gabrielle," he said, "You really didn't have to..."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes, flicking her head back to rid the short slivers of hair from her eyes.

"Xena is in a real mood today," she said, "It's times like this you just accept it and find somewhere else to be..."

"Oh," Joxer pressed his lips together nervously, "You don't think it's like - you know - her - uh..."

Gabrielle chuckled softly, "Uh, no I don't think so Joxer."

"Oh," the man blushed, laying another length of branch down in his arms, "I wonder why she's so sick..."

"I wish I knew," Gabrielle said. Worry flickered in the pretty bard's features. Her eyes locked on something on the ground, "There's a good one," she pulled up a stick, "I think we have enough... let's head back to camp."

Okay, change of topic. After all they'd been through, it didn't suprise him. Gabrielle was fervently set to the task of taking care of Xena, which was strange because normally Xena would have no troubles taking care of herself. But since she had been brought back from beyond... something had changed. Something so slight. Both Joxer and Gabrielle had sensed it, even after Xena had her dark half returned to her. She was - more somehow.

Joxer yanked up his stick and tried to move his mind onto other things. He watched the bard for a moment, her lithe but curvaceous body twisting down to pick up a particularly thick fallen branch.

It surprised Joxer how well Gabrielle had taken his declaration of love. He had expected things to be terribly uncomfortable between them. It had been - at first - but it soon melted away to a silent understanding. He knew she was pouring most of her energy into protecting Xena, and he would do what he could to help her. The most beautiful thing was that she didn't ever question what he did - she just accepted his actions like she did before. Joxer grit his teeth, feeling his heart warm more. Geez, he thought, I just fall harder and harder.

A hand caught his arm and he looked to Gabrielle.

"What?"

She gripped his arm, her eyes glancing about, "Can't you hear that?"

Joxer stopped. There was a faint cry, like a mew of a cat. He pouted, nodding.

"Yeah I hear it," he whispered, "What do you think it-"

"Hello... is there anyone there? Someone help!"

Gabrielle clenched her jaw determinately and dove into the undergrowth, heading for the noise, Joxer close behind her. As she burst through to a clearing, it became apparent what was the problem. Under a large knotted branch was the body of a man, a woman next to him.

"By the Gods," gasped Gabrielle, diving down to help the woman, Joxer soon following, "What happened?"

"Harlan!" the young woman sobbed, "He was cutting down my favourite tree - and I wanted to stop him!"

"Favourite tree?" gasped the man under the branches, "You've never seen it before in your life! We need wood for the stove you idiotic woman!"

Joxer frowned, glancing up at Gabrielle who sighed.

"I sat under it as a child!" she protested, "And you go to chop it down! You great brute!"

"Uh, maybe we should talk about this later?" Joxer said, "Harlan's leg doesn't look too good."

Gabrielle nodded, "We'll need help - uh - "

"Mirimai," the woman said, "I'm Harlan's wife."

Gabrielle smiled, "Nice to meet you Mirimai - can you help us lift this?"

Mirimai sighed, "Yes I suppose - let's just hope it doesn't put my back out - I'm trying for a child you know!"

Joxer winced, not really wanting to think of such things. With an agreeing glance to Gabrielle, they heaved at her nod, pulling the branch up, the woman edging her husband out from underneath.

"Got it?" Joxer rasped.

"Got it!"

"Eeeugh!" Gabrielle set the branch down again, wiping her brow with the back of her hand, "There you are..."

"We should take 'em back to Xena," Joxer said, licking his lips, "Uh - you know - she knows stuff about healing."

"You're right," Gabrielle nodded, "Can you walk?"

Harlan shook his head wearily, "I only feel fire - I can't move my toes..."

Mirimai sighed, shaking her head, "The Gods were punishing you for killing my favourite tree..."

Joxer glanced to Gabrielle. She rolled her eyes, and she positioned herself at Harlan's side, draping his arm over her shoulders, Joxer at the other side. After nodding to eachother they set off towards the camp.

Xena sighed, lying back on the pelt, stealing a moment's rest. The others had insisted she lie down but she had been refusing all day - mostly out of stubborn pride. Once they'd left, she rolled out the pelt and collapsed onto it, snuggling down into the furs and resting herself for the first time in blessed weeks. Gabrielle was intensely worried about her, even though Xena's dark half had returned completely intact. Probably something to do with the fact that she had been feeling terribly weary of late, also vomiting at the choicest moments. She wondered if that inn keeper would ever forgive her for ruining his prize bear-skin rug.

The thing that worried her most is that it was all so startlingly like when she had been pregnant with Solan. What a ridiculous thought! She hadn't been with a man in months! She sighed, tilting her brows up. Damn... she hadn't been with a man in months... Not that she was actively after a man... but oh it would have been nice.

She shook herself out of such thoughts. Too many other things in life were important, more so than getting laid. She sighed, looking to the blackened ditch where a fire would soon be.

A rustling grew not far off, and Xena leapt from the pelts, digging around for her sword but forgetting she didn't have one anymore. She pulled out her chakram instead, pulling it in two and pretending to examine it.

"Xena!"

Xena looked up, attempting to look laid back.

Gabrielle looked up from under the weak man draped over her, and a look of relief flashed on her face.

"Oh good, you rested!" she said, glancing to the twisted pelt. Xena's look darkened, and she got up.

"Who's this?"

"Harlan," Joxer said, sitting the man down at the non-existant fire. The young woman behind him held a bundle of sticks, a prissy look on her features.

"These sticks are hurting my hands!" she grumbled, dropping them indignantly.

Joxer sighed, jumping to the sticks and arranging them at the ditch in the ground.

"What happened?" Xena asked and Gabrielle sighed.

"Harlan was chopping down a tree when his wife broke his concentration... he didn't see it falling in his direction and he got caught under it..."

"Oh," Xena cocked a lip, "That gotta hurt - Joxer, don't break up too many of those sticks - we might need them."

Crouching next to Harlan she pulled out her chakram, slipping it in half she slid the pointed edge down the leg of Harlan's pants, exposing the broken leg.

"That's a good clean break," Xena said, "All I have to do is set the bone, and make a splint. It's gonna hurt - you!"

Mirimai frowned, "My name is Mirimai!"

"Mirimai," Xena said with a dour expression, "Hold his hand - he'll need your support."

Mirimai huffed, sinking down next to Harlan and putting his head and shoulders in her lap.

Xena grabbed at a straighter looking stick Joxer had given her, Gabrielle digging in the saddle-bag and pulling out some rags. She put her hands at the leg. The shin was fine, but the upper leg had been broken quite obviously. There were deep gashes in the leg, making the injury look worse than it actually was. She deftly grabbed the leg and pulled.

"EAAAARGH!"

"Shhhh," Xena soothed, watching Gabrielle shove a swab of cloth into the man's mouth. His screams were mostly muffled then, his teeth bearing down on the swab. She felt through the flesh, bringing the bone ends together, and snatching the sticks she pressed them against the injured man's thighs, taking the bandages Gabrielle had brought and wrapping them around the leg firmly. Harlan panted, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Mirimai sighed, her eyes welled with tears.

"My darling," she sobbed, "Will he be okay?"

"We won't know for a while," Xena said, "How far is your house?"

"It's on the edge of the forest," Mirimai said, "Not far from here at all. You're welcome to stay the night."

"Thank you," Xena said, "Gabrielle - help me load Argo - Harlan here will be on the back of her."

Gabrielle nodded.

"I'll take the kindling and wood," Joxer said.

Mirimai helped Xena gather Harlan up, his eyes opening and closing slowly, delirious from the pain, partially conscious.

"Thank you Joxer," she said, "Let's hurry. The sooner we have Harlan in bed and rested, the sooner his body can begin to heal."

Xena gathered up the blankets around Harlan, the fire at the hearth of the room crackling healthily. The cottage where the couple lived was a small affair. The woman, Mirimai, was a weaver, evident from the loom in the main living area and the great tapestries and fine linens hanging around the house and stored in corners. The woman had proudly shown Xena her efforts after Harlan was put to bed, boasting of her skills. Apparently the town they lived close to was proficient in weaving, many of the women there skilled in the art. Mirimai was a part of a society of weavers, dedicated women whose lives revolved around weaving reams of fabric and decorating them with fine stitching. Xena tried hard to sound impressed, and she was in a way, but she knew the type all too well. Gossiping girls with too much time on their hands, all candy and smiles in public, but poison-tongued harpies when they gathered in small groups of less than 4.

She was quite aware of Mirimai's more selfish tendecies. Obviously this woman had no idea how hard her husband had to work to keep the house in repair, and to hunt enough to keep the business of weaving running. From what Mirimai had said, though her tapestries and linens sold for high amounts at the markets, the time to construct them was long, so money came into the household in sporadic bursts. To keep food in their bellies, Harlan hunted wild boar and goats, selling furs and meat at the market daily. She wondered if the woman really understood all that Harlan did for her.

Harlan now slept, and Xena had come back to check on him. Luckily, his temperature was normal. It was a good thing that Joxer and Gabrielle had found them when they did. Any longer and serious infection could have spread.

She smiled. Gabrielle had taken to the forests to harvest some of the wood from the felled tree Harlan had chopped down. Joxer had insisted that he help her, and now the two were off in a big thick forest on their own. Her smile slipped to a grin.

"You go boy," she whispered to herself.

Harlan stirred, and his eyes flicked open.

"Ugh..."

"You should sleep," Xena said, "Your body needs to recuperate..."

Harlan just pursed his lips together, a hand clamping over them. Grabbing a wooden bucket, Xena held it out for him, and he snatched it. With a lurch he began to wretch, his stomach emptying it's contents into the bucket with a sickening splatch. The lurches didn't abate, bile dribbling out till finally, he coughed, spluttered, swallowing back with relief.

"Here," Xena gave him a mug of water, "I thought that might happen."

"Thank you," Harlan rasped, "I'm so hungry..."

"Mirimai has some broth on the boil," the warrioress said, "Should be ready soon..."

"Oh," Harlan swallowed, "The leg - it feels better than it did before, it's not burning..."

"I stitched up the gashes in your leg, put a little salve on - to stop any infection."

Harlan nodded, "Thank you," he said, "I think I would have died if your friends hadn't have come along..."

"That's okay," Xena smiled gently, "I'm just glad we could help."

"I don't think I caught your name," Harlan said.

"Xena," she said, trepidation rising within her. Even though she'd been serving good for years, fear still took her when she said her name. Her dark deeds of the past left deep scars in the minds of her victims, and those who had seen them.

"Oh," he smiled, "Like the Warrior Princess?" He chuckled, "Funny."

"Why funny?" Xena rose a brow.

"You're a sweet-faced pregnant woman," Harlan chuckled, "The name doesn't seem befitting..."

Xena frowned, "I'm not pregnant..."

Harlen blinked, "Oh - so that man isn't your husband?"

Xena tried hard not to laugh, a smirk creeping at the corners of her mouth, "Hardly! He's just a friend..."

"My mistake," Harlan said, "How are you so skilled at healing?"

Xena narrowed her eyes in a knowing smile, "Well, I've been in a few battles, and when you got injured men on your hands you learn a few tricks fast..."

The man's smile faded, his eyes showing a realisation, "You - you are her aren't you? The Warrior Princess?"

She nodded, a sadness in her eyes, "Yeah, that's me."

"It's strange," he said, "I expected you to have a harshness in your eyes, or for you to be larger than life..."

She rose a brow with a smirk, "I'm not?"

"No," Harlan shook his head, "I only see peace, and wisdom."

"You're probably just reading how tired I am," she said, "We've been on the road for days."

"I'm sorry we don't have many rooms," Harlan sighed, "Just one spare. But we have a barn... for our two horses..."

"The barn should be fine," Xena said, "We were expecting the open air tonight - a warm barn is a welcome change."

Harlan nodded.

"You should get some sleep," Xena said, rising from the chair next to the bed, "Let your leg heal."

"Yes," Harlan agreed, "Listen - I'm sorry about Mirimai. She's always complaining and she's never happy. She's probably made things difficult for you..."

Xena sighed. "Oh, we were fine," she said, "I'm sure she has reason to be unhappy."

She had said that to be polite, and she could tell Harlan saw that. He chuckled.

"I wish she did!" Harlan sighed, "That woman only ever seems content when things are bad for her. Sometimes I feel like she's only happy when it rains!"

Xena shrugged, "Some people just need drama in their lives."

"Well she has plenty of it now," Harlan said darkly, "I can't hunt. I'll be weeks off this leg. She's going to have to support herself for the time being."

"Can't she just sell some of her tapestries?"

"Yes," Harlan nodded, "But she has to get into town first."

"You got a cart, that isn't hard."

Harlan chuckled, "She won't drive a cart! She'd rather be seen dead!"

"What?"

Harlan rolled his eyes, "Men drive carts - women ride in them! Or so is her belief."

"I see," Xena nodded, "Never mind Harlan - this experience will teach her a thing or two."

"I swear," Gabrielle growled, chopping the axe into the wood over and over at a frenzied speed, "If I hear that woman complain one more time I'll scream!!"

Joxer rolled his eyes, crouching low and placing his hands on Gabrielle's shoulders.

"Gabby - woa - Gab - yikes! Gabrielle!"

"What?!" she hissed, spinning around. Joxer ducked again, licking his lips nervously.

"You're not doing any good chopping like that," he said softly, "Long lazy swings, okay?"

Gabrielle frowned, looking down to the axe in her hand.

"Okay," she mumbled, bringing the axe up and taking a longer swing than before.

Joxer watched her for a moment, concern stirring his stomach. He swallowed, a pout on his face.

"Gab - are you okay?"

Green eyes flashed at him as she brought the axe down, "I'm fine."

He let silence roll by, and he shook his head, "It's Xena, you're worried about her."

She narrowed her eyes, "How'd you know?"

It was a cold look he received, and he blinked softly, knowingly.

"I'm worried about her too."

Gabrielle nodded, looking back to the log she was chopping. Cracks resonated throughout the clearing, and Joxer cleared the stump, placing down another chunk of wood.

"What do you think of her Joxer?"

"Who - Xena?"

"No," Gabrielle sighed, "Mirimai."

"Oh her," Joxer shrugged, taking to the large branch with his own axe, "I've seen women like her - high Corinthian society is real similar. Mom had friends like her - they used to visit her house and she'd brag about her rare 'imports'. I don't think they really knew Dad was a warlord, but they had their suspicions. Either that or they just didn't think about it."

"Everything that comes from her mouth is a negative comment!" the bard sighed, "It's as if she enjoys being down like that!"

"Maybe she does," Joxer said, "Some people prefer to smile in the dark - it's her way."

"I just don't understand how her husband can put up with it," she said, "I mean - life's hard enough without complicating it with melodramatics!"

"I know what you mean," Joxer agreed.

"She's abusive too," Gabrielle continued, "Did you see the way she barked at her husband?"

"Yep."

"She just wouldn't shut up! I wonder if she realises what a great guy he is? I mean helping her live so she can do her weaving..."

"He probably just loves her."

"How could you love someone like that? I mean - she just takes him for granted!"

"I don't know."

"I just thank the Gods none of us are like that," she sighed, kicking aside a chunk of wood and pulling up a new one.

Joxer couldn't help but smile. He shook his head, slamming the axe into the branch he was portioning into smaller peices for Gabrielle. She frowned at him, watching him a moment.

"What?"

"Nothin', nothin'," he chuckled, "Just a private joke..."

"Well," Gabrielle tilted her head, "Tell me anyway."

Joxer looked up. There was challenge in the bard's eyes, and he pursed his lips.

"Don't worry about it Gabrielle, really it's just - it's nothing."

She nodded, looking back down to her axe resting on the stump of tree. She blinked, and then glanced back to Joxer.

"Joxer, tell me."

For some reason, this tickled Joxer's funny bone and he let out a chuckle.

"No!" he drawled through a snicker.

"I mean it..."

"I know," he giggled, "Just chop your wood!"

"I can't!" she sighed, "Not when you're laughing like that and I don't know why - it's killing me! Please - just tell me!"

"It's not even that funny!" Joxer protested with a grin, "You're just gonna be disappointed!"

"Try me..."

"I'd rather not."

"Joxer!"

"What?"

"Don't what me, tell me!"

Joxer couldn't help it. He let go of the axe, his chuckles bursting into thick giggles that wouldn't let up. Every time his eyes met Gabrielle's annoyed glare he felt himself lose all control, laughing helplessly.

Through set jaw Gabrielle shook her head, "That's it!"

She abandoned her own axe, leaping over the wood-pile to the giggling man, his body limp from the laughter wracking his body. Her actions seemed to fuel him more, and tears streamed down the man's face.

"It's not worth it - Gabby - what are you doing?"

Gabrielle's arms shot to Joxer but he jumped back. She bolted after him and he skittered around the wood pile, away from her. She started in the other direction to cut him off, and he leapt back to go the other way but his feet tangled themselves in a mass of discarded tree branches and he fell over with a strangled yelp.

He was still laughing, his face rosy red. Gabrielle ran up to him, straddling his chest and pinning his arms down in the mean time. She licked her finger, and turning his head aside she threatened to niggle his ear canal with it.

"What's so FUNNY?"

Joxer shook his head, chuckling.

"Joxer, TELL ME!"

"Okay okay!" Joxer sighed through his giggle, swallowing down more, his face aching wonderfully. Gabrielle brought her hand back, wiping her finger on her skirt. "It's just - you were annoyed with her complaining - and you were complaining about it yourself and wouldn't let up..."

Gabrielle blushed.

"Anyway," he smiled, hid chuckled calming, "It's just - when Mirimai complains, she's annoying as all Tartarus but when you complain it's -"

He stopped, the grin fading to a smile at the woman above him, her weight against him.

"It's what?" She frowned, concern in her features.

"It's adorable somehow."

Gabrielle gazed at him, the soft look on his face haunting her. With a sudden breath in she pulled herself up off Joxer, striding off to her pile of wood.

"I think we better get back - we've got more than enough for the time being..."

He sat up, a frown on his features, "Gabrielle..."

"Joxer," she said shortly, raising a hand to silence him, "Don't worry about it okay? I just - I asked for that - you're right it was a private joke. Let's just - let's get this wood and forget about it."

"Okay," he nodded, rolling onto his feet and gathering up the axes into the wheelbarrow, "We'll forget about it."

Gabrielle glared at him. He met the glare. What was she so angry about? He'd never seen her look at him like that before.

"I'm not like her!"

Joxer nearly fell over right there and then. He giggled, pressing a hand over his face.

"Joxer - stop laughing at me!"

He peeked out from behind his hand, the smile sliding off his face. Hurt was in her eyes.

"Gabby?"

She grit her teeth. He thought she was past such self doubt. It was moments like this her beautiful self-insecurities showed themselves. She hadn't had the opportunity to have a simple moment of self-doubt in such a long time, but seeing her go through one was endlessly refreshing. He tried to stop himself being so amused - she was obviously upset.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, his arm outstretched for comfort.

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head, Joxer stepping closer.

"It's okay," she lifted her hand, "It's okay..."

He nodded, holding the upper of her arms gently.

"I'm sorry I upset you," he said softly, "I'd never want to hurt you."

She looked up, brown eyes regarding her.

"I know," she breathed. She took a long breath in, taking up the axe. "Come on - let's gather up the wood before it gets dark..."

"Okay," Joxer nodded, bending down and collecting the wood chunks compliantly.

Gabrielle watched him a moment longer, his silly armour creaking a little as he loaded the wheelbarrow. That stupid armour. Secretly, she smiled.

Conclusion >>>