"Joxer... I'm going to kill you..."

Joxer turned, looking at the set of legs protruding out from under the chariot now parked outside the Inn stables where Xena had settled down in for rest. He felt the corner of his mouth curl up, his whole face feeling deliciously numb as her legs tensed and ran against each other. The legs were joined abruptly by it's owner, wheeling herself out on a flat wooden repair trolley. The wheels lay next to her, discarded and grey from exposure to the elements, the chariot up on blocks a couple of feet up off the ground.

"What?" he smiled, the a dreamy look smacked all over his features. She growled.

"The bottom of this chariot is almost rotted out! Didn't you look before you bought it?!"

Joxer frowned, crouching down next to her, "Of course I did, I thought the wood would be easy enough to replace. I found a wood mill that sells planks real cheap!"

Gabrielle sighed, running her hands through her cropped locks, "Okay, okay. The chassis is in good condition. A nice light iron frame with brass reinforcement."

"Yeah," Joxer nodded, "That's the main thing that made me bought it. Most other cheap chariots are terribly clunky and heavy."

She looked to him for a moment, his eyes roving over the chariot's surface, the fingers rubbing back peeling paint.

"Man, I can't get over that frame," he shook his head, "That curve in the axle is lethal!"

"Huh?" Gabrielle frowned.

"I mean, it's really good!" He pointed at the bend, "See, this will cause the axle to have some spring."

Gabrielle still looked confused, "I've never seen that kind before..."

"Okay," Joxer moved over the top of the driver's platform, and planted a foot on the top of the axle where the rotted wood was, "See this?"

He took his whole weight and bounced on top of the platform. As he did so, the wood cracked, his foot popping through the platform. He winced, Gabrielle smirking and shaking her head.

"Sorry," he blushed, taking his foot out, "We're gonna replace that anyway, right?"

Gabrielle nodded.

"Okay - you saw how that bounced?"

She nodded.

"Suspension," he said, "It keeps it up and it doesn't let the bumps run through the cart. It means the driver can concentrate on better driving! And makes for a more a smoother ride."

"Oh," Gabrielle nodded, "I get it now."

"Yeah," Joxer nodded, "That's the finest frame I've ever seen. Why it was stripped in the first place boggles the mind. You know," Joxer rubbed his chin, pouting at the chariot, "We could get a light thin iron frame for the sideboards and the dashboard, and stretch some skins over it - it'd be lighter than any wood."

Gabrielle eyed the chariot platform and nodded, "You're right. It'd provide less protection..."

"More spee-eed!" said Joxer, sing song.

"I know," sighed Gabrielle, propping her folded arms on her knees and resting her chin on them doggedly.

"We could paint it really pretty," he said, "What do you think?"

Gabrielle smirked, "Joxer - we need to get the thing going fast first!"

"Oh that'll be easy," he said, waving a hand, "Your favourite colour is green right? I'm kinda partial to purple. Do green and purple go together?"

He scrunched his nose in thought, scratching his head and looking over the light ornamentation on the wood.

"Joxer."

"Yeah?" he looked to her. She pulled out the bag of dinars and handed it to him.

"Get the wood!"

He grinned, "Okay!"

She watched him spring to his feet and run off towards the south end of town. She smiled, shaking her head. Doofus. She looked back to the chariot, sighing long. Despite various minor frustrations... this was getting to be sort of fun. It reminded her of when she was working with the amazons, in the summer...

"Wow... ye expect ta ride in that?" There was a gurgle.

Gabrielle lifted her green eyes, an even aggression in them, "Sure - it's not much to look at I know..."

The man in front of her scratched behind his scruffy ear, he wore a deep purple wrap over a toga, adorned in gold thread, an elaborate gold chain around his neck. Even his sandals were adorned in gold. New money or what, Gabrielle mused.

"Oh, duhuh!" he young man chuckled, "My Granny gonna kick yo ass!"

Gabrielle blinked, "I beg your pardon?"

"Maah Granny!" the man said, "She's the Terror of the ol' Colorados Boulevard honey!"

Gabrielle narrowed her eyes, "Well you haven't seen us yet..."

The young man chuckled further waving a hand and sticking out bucked teeth with great obnoxiousness, "Man, it don't matter. My ol' Mah knows things you don't about drivin'!"

Gabrielle tilted her head, "Is that so?"

"Yeahp!" the fellow nodded, "Anyway - who you got drivin'?"

"Me," Gabrielle said.

The young man's face contorted, a high squeak slowly filtering from his mouth, till it welled up quickly to a huge hoot that burst into a maniacal cackle.

"HOOOEEE!" he slapped his knee, "You? Little girl you might wanna reconsider lest you have your pretty face all crushed up!"

Gabrielle tilted her head with a grimace, letting loose a long sigh, "Thank you for your concern - but I'll be fine, really."

"Aawwright," the man nodded, "I better go back and give my Grammy the berries she's after. Nice meetin' ya Miss..."

"Gabrielle," the bard smiled.

"Miss Gabrielle," The fellow smiled, "Why - that's a beautiful name!"

"So I've been told," Gabrielle said with tense lips.

With a final grin and nod, the dense fellow lumbered off. Wow, and she thought Joxer was a dope. At that moment Joxer was looking like philosopher material next to that guy. A point spiked over the round of the hill in the path that led to the wood mill. Gabrielle watched it bob a moment, till it grew to a familiar head, and armour, pale arms, a bright smile. And...

"Joxer!" she gasped.

Joxer waved, and pointed to the cart behind him that was being led along by two donkeys. And it was piled high with spare parts! She jogged forward, her brain too sizzled to run in the excitement. She pointed to the parts, gasping again.

"How did you - what did you-"

"Calm down Gabrielle," Joxer waved a hand as he slowed down the donkeys in front of the chariot, and his shoulder was whacked roughly by an older man who seemed to have been running.

"There you are!" he grinned, "Aaah! This is it eh? Nice! It'll shine up a beauty!!"

The wide shouldered fellow knelt down in front of the chariot, looking over the frame.

"Hey - you could add a light frame and stretch some leather over it - make it nice and light!"

Joxer grinned and nodded, pointing to the man as he leant to Gabrielle, "This is Timos, the town's leading chariot repair man!"

"Oh," Gabrielle nodded, tilting her head, "I see..."

"Ough ough ough," growled Timos, "This is terrific!"

"What did he just -"

"It's this growl he does," shrugged Joxer, "It means he likes it! Ough ough- OOPH!"

Gabrielle elbowed him, "Don't."

Timos, turning his head and spotting Gabrielle's glare rose a brow.

"Joxer," he motioned him over. Joxer adjusted his helmet and loped over.

"Yeah?"

"Does she cook any good?"

Joxer looked back to Gabrielle, his helmet flapping in the movement, "No."

"Uhuh," Timos jutted forward his bottom lip, "Smart?"

"Painfully," Joxer winced.

Timos nodded and pointed at him, "Keeper!"

"Keeper?"

"She's a keeper!" he nodded. Joxer's look softened, and he nodded towards Gabrielle.

"Yeah I know."

"Well," the fellow, got up, "Gabrielle..." He motioned the girl to him and she approached the men, "These supplies are donated by the town..."

"By the Gods... you all donated this?"

"Yep," Timos nodded, "We've seen a lot of people challenge The Little Old Lady - no one's ever beaten her. But friends of the Great Xena must do better than your random speed freak. We want to help you turn this baby into a dream - beat the old bat."

"So your town can finally be at peace," Gabrielle smiled softly.

Timos cocked a lip, "No - to show the old coot a thing or two! It's criminal she's been winning every time in a dodge!"

Gabrielle nodded, "Well I'll be the driver."

Before Timos could mutter anything Joxer put a hand on her shoulder proudly, "Trained by the amazons!"

"Aah," Timos nodded, "Battle driving?"

"Yeah," Gabrielle said, "Mostly. We learnt a lot about speed for escape purposes too."

"Great," Timos grinned, "Well it looks like you guys know what you're doing. If you need anything - just pop by the store. We have demonstrations on chariot repairs every week - my apprentice helps out, people like to watch. You could learn a thing or two..."

"Sure," Gabrielle clapped her hands together, "We will."

Timos waved, turning and traipsing back into town. Gabrielle sighed, blowing her bangs up and she looked to Joxer.

"I don't know how you managed to-"

"I was talking to the miller," Joxer said, "He said he could get help for me."

"Okay," Gabrielle nodded, "Joxer I - this is great..."

Joxer smiled, "Thanks," He looked to the chariot, laying a hand on the wooden sideboard, "You know um... we'll be some time fixing this up."

"Yeah."

"I sent out a messenger," he pursed his lips a second, "To set the race date in two weeks."

Gabrielle crossed her arms and nodded, "That sounds good - should be plenty of rest time for Xena."

"Yeah!" Joxer said, "It uh - it also means we'll be here for a festival they're holding here."

The bard walked around Joxer to the other side of the chariot, stepping over the draft pole and seating herself on the edge of the driver's platform, looking over the chariot.

"It's a - um - a dance. You get all dressed up in pretty clothes and stuff an' uh dance..."

Gabrielle narrowed her eyes in confusion, leaning her head on her arm, "Joxer are you trying to ask me out?"

Blushing, Joxer kicked the pressed dust floor, nodding bashfully. Gabrielle rose her brows in amusement, smiling with pursed lips.

"That's nice of you," she said.

"But ya don't wanna," he nodded frantically, hiding his face, "I understand."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes, "You didn't let me finish."

Joxer looked up.

"It was nice of you," she said, "To ask me so sweetly. I'd like to go a dance with you."

The lanky fellow's eyes widened, and his hands stepped down ,"You - you do?!"

"Just as friends," she said, "Um... can you dance?"

Joxer tilted his head and pointed at her with a grin, "I have a few tricks up my sleeve!"

Crepe and streamers lined the hall, and Gabrielle sighed. It was Potedaia all over again, and it grated at her like a cat's tongue on the skin. She smiled politely, wandered about the place in the dress she'd managed to get for the night. It was on loan, and it was odd. The girl at the boutique said she could wear it as long as she mentioned where she got it from. And then she wouldn't have to pay for it. Sponsorship, the woman said, sponsorship. Gabrielle just shrugged and tried on the dress. It had a funny symbol on a tag inside the dress that named it's size, and the symbol was also on the outside of the building. The really strange thing was everyone that came into the dance hall asked her where she got her gorgeous lily-white dress from. And she told them.

She looked down at the dress. It sort of reminded her of the ridiculous go-go outfit she'd worn in Melodia, sans the revealing midriff thing. It went down to her mid-thigh, and it sparkled in the light from slivers of glass beads. Her dress was the lightest yellowy-green colour of the base of a water-lily, very much white but with a flush of green to bring out her eyes. Her shoes were basic sandals with beadwork on them - also from the same boutique. She gazed about the room again. At the end of the hall was an open bar, and above it, half a chariot seemed suspended above it, as if it were bursting from the wall. There were also papyrus-mache horses suspended from the roof in front of it. She smirked in amusement.

"Um..."

It was a deep choking sound that broke her attention from the racing memorabilia, and turning she got quite a shock.

Joxer tugged at the edge of the deep blue silk tunic he wore. It was as if he took the night sky and wrapped himself in it. Without the stars of course, as the stars would have looked slightly camp. More Jake's style. But that wasn't only what shocked her. He wore a dark leather waistcoat, a cummerbund, similarly black pants and knee-high boots, and a gleaming new sword was hoisted at his waist, more for show than anything. His hair was spiked a little and brushed back handsomely. She blinked, still trying to take in the sight before her.

"Sponsorship?" was all she could mutter.

"Yeah," he blushed down at himself, "I feel so stupid..."

"No!" she shook her head, "No, you look - you look great."

Her heart was thumping madly and she blushed. He looked more than great. Even Super Bell-Joxer hadn't been this delicious. He was a smarmy goit compared to the vision of subtle manhood next to her.

"I dunno why Timos insisted we go get kitted up in this stuff," he said, tugging at a part of his slippery sleeve.

"Race sponsorship," she said, "That's what he said. They seem to make a big deal out of the racing here. You gotta wonder what they'll do when we stop it."

"Hmm," Joxer nodded, fiddling with his cuffs.

"In fact, that's what half this dance is for," she said, "Or so the the woman at the shop I went to said. Everyone here seems obsessed with chariots."

"I know," he nodded, "It's great here!"

She grinned, tugging on Joxer's arm suddenly, "Come on you - let's go dance."

Joxer followed her out onto the floor, and after a few aborted attempts of disco dancing, he slipped into an easy waltz that he surprised Gabrielle by being quite adept at. She let his strength guide her about the floor, the giddy feeling of weightlessness lifting her mood. She sighed dreamily, forgetting it was dopey Joxer leading her about and not some dashing prince from a fairy tale.

"It's a pity Xena couldn't be here to enjoy this," she said.

"She needs her rest," Joxer said, "You remember what the doc said."

Gabrielle nodded, sarcasm glooping into her tone, "Yeah - I bet she's taking to that so nicely."

Xena chewed on the meat darkly. The room she sat in was quiet. No, it was worse than quiet. It was quiet with the music of a hidden cricket interspersing the crackling of the fire. It created such an air of desolation that it ended up being much worse than quiet. It was lonely.

She ran her hand over her belly, picking at the meal on her plate, the inn room tackily decorated with cowskin and dried plants. A sigh took her as she pulled back the window, looking out on the town square. It was decorated brightly, it had gotten over the destruction of the previous Sunday, and was now clean and full of crepe and lanterns. People staggered about in it, dressed to the nines, celebrating the harvest, the moon, racing, and life in general. But mostly racing. A few flashy chariots were parked hither and thither, muscle-bound young fellows leaning in the driver's space and looking dashing. They generally had busty scantily clad young woman drooling over the man more than the chariot. From what Xena could see, they were pretending to be interested.

Strange strange place.

She closed the curtain again, leaning on a hand. This race... they had to be sure they'd win. Gabrielle and Joxer were all involved in making the chariot run like a dream, and the fellow Timos seemed very enthusiastic in helping them out. She looked out on the town again, pulling open the curtain.

Chariots. This town was in love with everything to do with chariots, and it seemed racing was one of them. When the Little Old Lady had blasted through the town, it seemed there weren't that many people out for market that day. What concerned her more was the Old Woman's reputation. Why would they let her go through? She was only an old woman - why didn't they stop her?

A pain rang in her spine and Xena gave a wince. Whatever troubled her, she'd tend to it tomorrow. May as well get an early night, she thought.

She plodded over to the squishy bed, pulling herself in and smiling contentedly. Wrapping herself up in the blanket, she blew out the light, and snuggled in.

A chirrup broke the silence again, over the quiet calls of the partygoers some distance away. She grabbed her chakram, and listened for a moment.

"You be quiet," she said, "Or my friend Mr. Chakram will make your acquaintance..."

The cricket gave an uncertain chirrup, then went quiet. Xena slid her chakram away and sighed. Crickets were good. They understood quiet. You make a scary enough noise and they run away. From her anyway.

Weeks. It had been two of them in all, and Gabrielle had worked very hard on the chariot with Joxer, which had been a gruelling experience in itself. Spending that much time with Joxer, day in, day out. She shuddered. Not that it wasn't fun at times. In fact what probably worried her the most is how much she found she was enjoying herself. That was the gruelling thing. So much fun made her feel guilty, like she wasn't doing her job as protector of the innocent. Or side-kick to the protector. She shook her mind and slapped the last of the paint on the frame. Purple and Green. Joxer was at work at the side, she was finishing off the draft pole. She frowned, noticing he was painting the side. Standing, she walked around him, trying to figure out what he was doing.

"Great!" he said, spotting the paint in Gabrielle's hand, "Need that purple."

He grabbed it, and with sweeping letters, spelled out a name on the side:

GREECE LIGHTENING
GREECE LIGHTENING

Gabrielle frowned, "Greece Lightening?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "You know the saying - goes like greased lightening?"

"Yeah yeah," she nodded, "I get it, but it says 'Greece' and not... not 'Greeced'."

"Yeah, but if I called it 'Greeced Lightening' it would just look stupid."

Gabrielle nodded, smiling finally. "Greece Lightening. Greece Lightening. I like it."

Joxer smiled, finishing the words on the side, and moving over to the next.

"Hey, it's looking pretty good..."

Gabrielle's brows rose and she turned, smiling to the familiar voice. "Xena!"

"Hey," Xena smiled, hugging the excited Gabrielle, "Taken her for any test runs yet?"

"Oh yeah," Gabrielle nodded, "It runs like a dream!"

"I like the name..."

Joxer bobbed up from behind the other side of the chariot and grinned, "Hi Xena!"

"Hi Joxer," she said, "Been looking after Gabrielle?"

"Sure!" he nodded, "We've been having a great time!"

Xena rose a brow, looking to Gabrielle, "Have you now?"

Gabrielle blushed, tilting her head, "Yeah well - yeah..."

"I never knew she knew so much about chariots," Joxer said, patting the side of the chariot and placing the paint aside. "This one is our baby!"

Xena looked at the jarring colours of paint, the green arguing with the purple, and had to agree that it seemed a Gabrielle/Joxer brainchild. The two colours clashed, but seemed to come to some agreement where they stood between one another, and both did their best to make the sleek writing stand out proudly. Quite a combination.

"You got horses for this thing?" Xena asked.

"Well," Gabrielle looked a little guilty, "We can't really use Argo and Amber cause-"

Xena looked at Gabrielle like she was mad, "Of course you can't - they're different kinds of horses for one thing and for another they've never been trained together and-"

"Okay okay," Gabrielle sighed, "I get what you mean! I was going to say - Timos knows people from the saddlery and he has arranged us two Arabian beauties!"

Xena frowned, "Has he?"

Gabrielle nodded.

Xena got a glimmer of caution to her features, the kind that fluttered about then sat stoutly and pulled her features firm. She turned, marching down the street determinately.

"Xena?"

Joxer got an alarmed look on his face that was similar to the one he got when he was desperately needing the toilet, but it did it's job in saying he was very alarmed about something, and that something was a pregnant moody Xena on the warpath.

"Xena!" he called, the woman ignoring him.

She marched right on, towards the chariot repair shop at the end of the street with "TIMOS' CHARIOT REPAIR!" splashed across a sign-board. A group of people clumped around the store, and as Xena barged through them, she saw what they were all gazing at. Coos and awwws had been heard as she approached, and she bound through, she blinked with surprise.

Timos was bent over at the chariot, his leg, left arm and right foot tangled in leather reigns. A stout man with a beard and a red plaid tunic worked at the reigns deftly, giving instructions to the crowd as he spoke. Soon, Timos was free of the leather bounds, looking incredibly embarrassed.

"And that," said the man, "Is how you unravel your friend from horse reigns when they get into an argument with the horses attached to them."

"Thank you Al," Timos growled, rubbing his shoulder, "And that's all we have time for today uh, you can catch us tomorrow after lunch for further demonstrations on keeping your chariot in peak condition. Till next time..."

The crowd cheered, breaking up slowly, and she wound through, a darkness in her eyes.

"Hello," Timos smiled, rubbing the leather burns on his arms, "I don't do autographs cause I can't write..."

"Xena!"

Timos saw the blonde bard stop next to the six foot of scary dark warrior woman, and he sighed a little in relief, "Hey Gabrielle - you know her?"

"Uhm, Timos, this is my best friend, Xena, Xena, this is Timos the chariot-repairman and that's his assistant, Alamos."

The dumpy bearded man in plaid gave a salute to her as he pushed the chariot away. Xena felt very confused.

"I'd like to know what in Zeus's name is going on here."

Timos winced and poked an ear forward, "Huh?"

"You. Helping my friends out with their chariot. Giving them horses, getting them free stuff. Why - what are you really up to? And tell me the truth!" She brandished the two of her fingers, just inching to do the pinch. Timos looked alarmed, staggering back.

"Xena!" gasped Gabrielle, "Don't!!"

The warrior glared at Gabrielle, who sighed, putting a hand to her forehead.

"It's - we're sponsoring them!" he gasped, "For the race!"

Xena frowned, "What?"

"You know," he rolled his hands, "You rub my back, I'll rub yours?"

Xena glared, brandishing a fist this time. He jumped back, yelping.

"XENA!" Gabrielle pulled the fists down, "By the Gods!"

"I didn't mean you!" Timos said, "I meant - look. We help out your friends, they win the race, we get a good name and all our stuff back and you guys move on. See? No problem. That's sponsorship. Give us a good name, and we'll help you out."

Xena stepped back, a caution still in her features, "What about your connections to the Little Old Lady?"

"Oh her," Timos waved a hand, "This town has to beat her. Pasadena has been giving us a hard time about it for years. We beat them in every Sunday race till she came along."

Gabrielle double took, "Excuse me?!"

Timos looked to her, "Yeah. Hard to believe too eh?"

"Are you telling me," Joxer said, stepping forward, "That you guys willingly race through the middle of your town, destroying your market every weekend just to race? We thought it was the Little Old Lady who did that to you!"

"It is!" Timos said, "We'd never willingly wreck our town! We kept it on the Colorados road! She started bringing it through the centre of town and that's where the trouble started."

Xena shook her head, "I know something didn't add up. The chariot obsession in this town wasn't something new."

"No," Timos shook his head, "This town was founded on the chariot. It was a chariot stop on the main road to Santos Diegos."

"Kay," Xena nodded, "We're gonna fix this."

"But Xena," Gabrielle said, stepping forward, "The race! We've slaved over that damn chariot for two weeks!"

"Oh you're going to get your race," she said darkly, "You better believe it!"

Pasadena was a stark town, bathed in the hot dry Grecian sunlight of the late morning. Horses pits were slick and readied to be yanked on, and the steeds snorted to one another, protesting to the leather that bound them to wildly decorated draft poles.

On one side of the square stood the black sleek chariot of the Little Old Lady, the painted flames standing out boldly in the bright sunlight. Scores of people milled about the chariot, preening it, tucking it, oiling the wheels, tending to the horses. A similar amount of people tended Joxer and Gabrielle's chariot, absurdly purple and green in the same sunlight.

Joxer stood next to Xena, watching Gabrielle fasten the reigns with Alamos, an expertness in their gestures and business. He looked to Xena, sighing.

"We've both been so nervous," Joxer said, "Well, I've been nervous. Gabrielle's just been focused."

"Yeah," Xena smiled. Joxer's eyes roamed, from Gabrielle's legs, to the sand. He looked down at his kicking feet, and he kicked some dust. Something silvery gleamed up at him, and he gasped.

"Look!" he jumped down, grasping the gleaming thing, "See a dinar, pick it up, all day long you have good luck!!"

Xena smiled thinly, "That's great Joxer..."

His jaw dropped and he pointed to it frantically, "Gabrielle's gotta have this! I took the luck though but - I know!" He scrambled off, Xena stepping forward in concern.

"Joxer," she frowned, "Joxer wait!"

He ran to her, stepping back as Timos lifted the draft pole up as he checked the fastenings, getting ready to wheel the chariot into place.

"Gabby!" he called, Gabrielle standing aside from Timos, "Look what I got ya!"

A very well choreographed series of events unravelled at this very moment, the great irony and humour laying in the fact that it was a complete and total accident, and a terrible twist of fate. Joxer had such a clever idea how to transfer the luck from the coin to Gabrielle, totally ignorant to the fact that lucky coins didn't really like that happening.

He held up the coin, "Here I got this for ya!"

Gabrielle, at first confused, smiled at the offering. She held our her hand but just as she was about to take it Joxer let it slip from his fingers.

"Oh - whoops!" he grinned. Gabrielle sighed, bending down to pick it up.

"Joxer..." she said in a low tone.

"Heads up!" called Timos, wheeling around the draft pole he held above his head, looking at Joxer, and not Gabrielle who was inconveniently obstructed from his view.

Gabrielle hadn't noticed the draft pole swinging over her, and so with full force and all confidence - she stood up again.

A terrible cracking thunk split the air, and Gabrielle's head. She stopped, as if someone had whispered something absurd in her ear, looking to the dinar in her hand, staggered aside and with a neat little pirouette - fainted.

Joxer went pale and leapt to Gabrielle's side.

"GABBY!" he gasped, "Gabby - wake up - oh Gods, this is all my fault!!"

Xena pushed through the people circling the downed bard and took a place at the woman's side.

"Damn it Joxer," she growled, "I told you to wait! You don't go playing damned games around chariots!" The warrior slapped at her friend's face, "Gabrielle - wake up!"

Gabrielle took an abrupt breath in, "Hmm? Momma?"

"No," Xena sighed. Joxer turned Gabrielle's head to his.

"Can you see me?"

"Mm-" She blinked, "Yeah..." she giggled drowsily, "And for some reason there's two of ya!"

"Shit," Joxer buried his head in his hands, "Gabrielle do you want me to drive?"

Gabrielle looked to him, her eyes swimming backstroke in her head, "Um..."

"Do you want me to drive?" he asked again, a seriousness in his tone.

"Yeah," she nodded, and promptly fell unconscious.

"Is she going to be all right?" Timos said, kneeling next to them.

"Yeah," Al nodded, "Tim's sustained that injury before and come out of it okay."

There were a few sniggers in the crowd. Timos pouted and stood up, scratching his head.

"You think you can handle it Joxer?"

"No!" Xena said from underneath Gabrielle, helping a few women lay her on a stretcher, "Joxer doesn't know the first thing about charioteering!"

Joxer sucked at his mouth funny, jutting his lip and tilting his head to her with indignance, "Well it just so happens that you're wrong, Xena!"

Xena rolled her eyes, "Stop fooling Joxer, I'm driving."

"With all due respect," the doctor said from next to Gabrielle, wrapping her head up in some bandages, "You can't."

Xena glared at him, "Where did you come from?"

"Oh you need a doctor at any chariot race," said Timos. Alamos nodded seriously.

"Especially when Timos is around," the doctor concurred.

Xena sighed, rubbing her eyeballs. This was all getting very surreal.

"Okay - why can't I drive?"

"You're pregnant," said the doctor, "Very very pregnant, and your only a week or so from giving birth."

"I'm pregnant!" she hissed, "Not a damned invalid!"

"Xena," Joxer said, a seriousness in his tone that broke her from her hissy fit, "You can't risk the baby like that. What if you crash?"

She met the eyes of the young man, reason seeping into her and she sighed, "I um - Gods you're right." She ran a hand through her bangs, "Okay Joxer - you sit down you listen, I'm going to tell you a few tricks, you got me?"

Conclusion >>>