The sun was at it's zenith, noon's heat setting the scene alight with a bleak light that leaked the colour out of the surroundings and stunned the eyes. Joxer stood in the chariot, the smell of fresh paint filling his lungs, mingling with horses sweat, his own sweat, and the leather that he clutched in his wet shaking palms. His helmet was fastened securely to his head, and the horses snorted and stomped impatiently at the starter line. Next to him was the empty chariot of the Little Old Lady from Pasadena.

With a sudden cheer, the door to a nearby building opened, and in the doorway was she - the Little Old Lady From Pasadena.

She was a short measure of a woman, and she held the hand of her idiot grandson who was dressed in such a way in bold coloured silks that he looked like someone spewed solstice wrapping paper up all over him and then a few gaudy gold chains to finish off the insult. The Little Old Lady was dressing in a simple long-sleeved white dress, her white hair up in a bun, which was topped with a helmet someone nearby handed her son to place on her. It was a strange looking helmet, round and painted a bold colour. It went on the woman's head, and it was strapped on. She smiled to her son, a toothless grin that screamed wisdom.

She took an agonizingly long time getting anywhere near her chariot, and the crowd that had welled up around the town all were quiet, no coughing, nothing. It was as if they all held their breaths in the great lady's presence.

Finally, the woman stepped carefully into her chariot. Something very strange happened then. Her movements seemed easier. Not supernaturally so, but rather in her general attitude. She stood up as straight as she could, and so primly took a hold of the black leather reigns of her chariot.

She turned her head, meeting the stupefied gaze of Joxer, and smiled.

"I'm Doris," the woman said, "They call me the Little Old Lady from Pasadena."

Behind him he could hear people calling out 'Go Granny! Go Granny!' He tried to shove it from his mind. He nodded fractionally, and with some muddling about, found his voice, "Uh-" He coughed, "I'm Joxer the um - The Mighty."

"Nice meetin' ya sonny!" she grinned, "Now you be careful out there eh? I play fair, you play fair. That's how this game goes hmm?"

Joxer nodded again.

"This is Tommy, and this is Harrold," she said, pointing to her horses, "I see yours are sponsor horses - don't 'spect you know their names?"

"Um - Agamemnon and Delia."

"That's nice," she nodded, "Good to have a good communication with your horses. My chariot is called The Beastie mm! Yours is - Greece Lightening eh? Cute! Yes, very sweet. Well - are you ready? I think everyone is ready now, yes."

She rolled her lips about in her mouth, and Joxer became vaguely aware of movement next to him. He turned his head, bowing down to Timos that stood next to his chariot.

"Don't fall for the game," Timos said, "She does it to everyone. Shocks you to stupidity. The very notion of an old woman driving a chariot with any ability either totally dumbfounds you till your brain goes on holiday, or you get so filled with self confidence you botch the race. Don't fall for it - she's just a racer okay? A racer - nothing else."

Joxer nodded, swallowing.

"You wait till she gets out of sight of us," Timos continued, "She'll turn into a maniac - a killer diller! You saw her in the town when you arrived! Remember that!"

Joxer nodded, now with resolve, and gripped the reigns. "You can count on me!"

A busty gorgeous woman walked out to the centre of the road, lifting up a yellow scarf. Timos smiled at the woman and nodded as the pit crew drained from around the chariots, taking places in the crowd. The woman lifted her voice.

"When this scarf falls onto the ground," she said, "You will go!"

She whipped up the scarf, grinning with a beautiful flash of a smile, and then thrust it up in the air with a jump.

Joxer yanked up the reigns as the scarf fluttered to the ground, and with a yelp he slapped the horses into action, flapping the reigns madly.

"YA!" he cried, "YAH! GO! YAAAAH!! YEAAAAAAH!!!"

He slapped the horses, neglecting the whip that hung at his belt, the only piece of his clothing he was allowed to retain besides his helmet. He instead wore a simple white vest and pants, keeping light as possible. The Little Old Lady burst out in front of him, the black beasts reigned on to her chariot snorting and pounding the sandstone road with dedicated vigour.

He swore, slapping the horses into action, urging them onwards with his voice, and with the careful slapping of the reigns to the horses' backs.

"Don't wear them out to early," Xena had said, "Remember on the way to Pasadena there was the temple ruins? That is about three quarters of the way to Santos Diegos- belt it out there..."

The Little Old Lady was never far in front of him, and he made sure his horses kept at her heels. The road was very much straight for the next mile. The stretch of road was four miles, a long stretch of galloping for any horse. The rushing wind whistled past his ears, the hiss of the horse's snorting breaths filling his ears whilst the stiff smell of their body odour filled his lungs. He glanced back, and very soon Pasadena was out of sight.

Remembering Timos' words, he looked to Doris - the little old lady - worry flickering in his eyes.

In her hand that wasn't gripping the horse's reigns was a whip that she suddenly spun around in the air and brought down onto the horses' backs with an audible crack. Joxer winced, slapping his horses with the reigns, urging them onwards.

"Come on!" he called out, "Keep UP GUYS!!"

One of the horses gave a snort of protest.

"Sorry Delia!!" he cried, "I know you're a girl, it's just a figure of speech! Move your hooves! Come on!!! Make your ol' Mama in the stable proud!!"

A sharp turn hugging the coast loomed up ahead, and Joxer remembered another piece of advice - stay in the innermost of the curves, and don't go too fast. The distance to the curve slipped away fast, and with a terrible rattle his chariot tilted as the horses belted around the corner.

"EASY DELIA!" he shouted above the din of hooves and wheel on rocks, "COME ON AGGY! MOVE YOUR BUTT!! STAY TOGETHER YOU GUYS!"

A hill was up ahead, and Joxer frowned. Speeding the horses up the slope would easily tire him, and he noticed Doris slowing her steeds. He'd been told by other failed racers that the mistake many a new rider made was speeding their horses up here to gain an advantage. After tumbling down the hill in the lead, the horses would give out and the Little Old Lady would burst into the lead, to far to catch up to. He let the horses take their time, Doris never far, never out of sight, barely three or four lengths ahead. He jiggled the reigns.

"Easy guys easy," he said, "We'll be half-way soon - don't work it here okay? Easy!"

As the top of the hill grew closer, he slapped the horses into action, taking Doris by surprise. She glared at him, and screamed.

"EEEEIIIIIIYAYAYAYAYAAAA!!!! GO GIRLS!"

Joxer grinned, shaking his head.

"That was too easy," he said to his steeds, "Far too easy!"

Doris' horses burst into speed with still a third of the hill to go, the black mares at her chariot rolling their eyes at the sudden effort, foam growing at their pits. He slowed down immediately, letting the horses tackle the hill at their own fast but easy pace. The peak rolled away and Joxer, with a shout and a slap urged the horses into a sudden rush.

"HYAAAAAH!" he cried, instantly regretting opening his mouth again, spitting out the grit that flew up from the compacted dirt roads. The tails of the horses billowed in the breeze, the rattle of the wheels filling his ears. He watched Doris, was just half a length ahead of him. She glared, and steering her chariot in she let it impact with his chariot.

There was a crashing noise, and he caught his balance, glaring back at Doris with rage.

"I THOUGHT WE WERE PLAYIN' FAIR!!"

"ALL'S FAIR IN THE DRAG SONNY!" she grinned, "THERE'S NOBODY MEANER THAN ME! HAHAHAHA!!!"

She stomped on the floor of her chariot, and there was a terrible slicing noise. Joxer glanced down at the wheels of the woman's chariot, and grew pale.

"Spikes," he mumbled with fear, more for the horses legs than for himself. He gulped, slapping the backs of the horses, "GO YOU GUYS GO!!! NOT FOR ME FOR YOU!! YOU'RE RUNNIN' FOR YOUR LIFE NOW!!"

A screeching laughter twittered from the Little Old Lady, the whip in her hand striking the black silky hind-quarters of the magnificent beasts reigned to her chariot.

Joxer squinted up ahead, hoping upon hope that the horses could hold out for a while longer. A white jumble of shapes glinted in the distance, and his heart leapt.

"The temple ruins!" he cried, "GO GUYS GO!!!"

He slapped madly on the horses' behinds. The compartment of his chariot bucked, and he looked down. The spring-loaded spikes in Doris' wheels smashed through the skin side of Greece Lightening. He veered it away sharply, skidding a little on loose rocks, the horses rearing their heads in alarm. He knew he was pushing them too soon, but if they didn't move they'd all be history.

"COME ON GUYS!" he cried, "FASTER!"

He looked to the other horses on Doris' outfit, their eyes growing red with alarm. Their backs were slapped and whipped again and again, their black well kempt hooves beating at the white road with vigour.

There was no foam in the pits of his horses mouths, and he listened to their breathing carefully. The were working hard, but weren't stressed out. He knew that past the temple ruins that were very close now, there would be Lokos Annui, and the market. Hopefully nobody was out today, and hopefully Doris wouldn't try anything tricky. Hopefully. In reality he knew he'd have to be the first through LA to avoid the deadly spikes of The Beast. He kept his eyes ahead, keeping a steady stance in the chariot, veering away from Doris constantly, eying the toppled columns of the old temple up ahead.

"Are you ready guys?" he breathed to himself. He eyed the movements of his steeds, hope rising in his thumping chest. He looked to Doris. He looked to the Temple.

The scenery sped by him, and he watched, carefully looked, gauging, always gauging.

The last piece of toppled alabaster shot away into the distance. He grinned.

"GOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" he slapped the horses wildly, "HYAAAH! HYAAAAH!!! GO AGGY! GO DELIA!! GOOO!! HYAAAAH -- urg-" He coughed and spluttered as a sudden splash of dirt smacked him in the face, and he settled for whipping the reigns, shaking the crap out of his face.

Doris glared as her horses shook their heads, foam dripping back on their sides, their steps becoming laboured. She whipped them again, screaming out at the animals. Joxer grinned as his chariot moved slowly forward, the distance between him and the Little Old Lady growing piece by piece. He looked ahead, Lokos Annui growing by the second. He let the horses go for broke, knowing that there was still another mile or so to go. All he aimed for was getting to the narrow main street of the town first. He slapped the horses again, and with a 'hyah' the horses surged onwards, swooping in in front of Doris' chariot.

The whoosh of walls enclosing the race fell past Joxer's ears, and windows and washing flashed past him, the clatter of hooves on cobbled road echoing through the village. And another thing, something that had Joxer's heart racing faster.

"GO JOXER!!!"

"WOOOHOOO!!!"

"GO GREECE LIGHTENING!!!!!!!"

He didn't listen, but the sudden onslaught of cheering and applause fluttered his heart with delirious joy.

You're not through it yet, he thought, Stay focused Joxer - FOCUS!! Remember how focused Gabrielle was!

The sight of Gabrielle toppling over filled his mind, and he realised who would be at the finish line...

He had to win this for her. Xena took her to Santos Diegos before the race had started, so they could be there at the finish. He couldn't let Gabrielle down, he just couldn't!!

Lokos Annui, being a sprawl of a town, finally seemed to thin around him, and after another couple of minutes hard slog the town whipped away behind him. Also behind him, relentless and threatening was the screeches and calls of Doris and her Beastie, the sudden protesting neighs of her horses breaking through the regular pounding beat of the hooves.

Under a mile to go, he thought. And he stopped thinking about other things. He focused ahead of him, slapping the horses, urging them on with the odd call, spitting out more grit and still giving them encouragement. He was worried, but when he glanced to see Doris' position, it was obvious she was slowly slipping back.

Santos Diegos, a lush but dangerous town, loomed up ahead, growing bigger by the second. Joxer's horses nodded in tandem as they battled onwards, the spring of their lips around the bit being felt by Joxer as he waggled the reigns. He gripped them, stomping on the bottom of the chariot suddenly.

"OKAY GUYS!" he called out, "GO FOR IT! WE'RE NEARLY THERE! NO HOLDING BACK! Go for BROKE!"

The horses seemed to delight in the tone of his voice and with the suddenly urgent slapping of the reigns, and with an unheralded burst of speed they burst into the main road of Santos Diegos, the finish line dead in the centre of town, which was only a few seconds away. He didn't' even look at Doris. He looked to the finish line, and after a moment he could see the shape of a blonde woman hanging onto a tall very pregnant brunette warrior. He grinned, stomping again and slapping madly with joy.

"YEAH GUYS!! WOO!"

He felt startled as a flutter of red smacked him in the face, and with a spasm of shock he realised that he'd just obliterated the finishing line. He let go of the reigns as a shout of exultation ripped through his throat, and his legs went crazy, jumping him into the air and promptly off the chariot. He tumbled to the floor, rolling aside as Doris clattered through on her black mess of horses and chariot, a hard angry look of defeat twisting her wrinkled features.

Timos ran forward, grabbing onto his horses' reigns and pulling them in, grinning and giving thumbs up to Joxer.

"Joxer!" gasped Gabrielle a little shakily under the deafening cheers, "Are you okay?"

Joxer lay back on the ground, palm trees and a bard with her head wrapped in bandages filling his vision. He turned his head, coughing and getting up mechanically.

"Oh man," he croaked, "What a ride!"

"You're hoarse!" she said, "Oh that's gross..."

She wrinkled her nose as Joxer spat out some grit, coughing up more and proceeded to pull his helmet off. She couldn't help but give a cheeky grin at his face, plastered with dust and dirt from the road, making him look a strange dark tan colour. She wiped at his face tenderly, getting some of the grit off. Before she could finish, bunches of hands grabbed the lanky fool, pushing him up into the air.

"JOXER, JOXER!" droned the crowd, Gabrielle glancing around her and smiling with some bewilderment. She moved slowly to Xena, still shaky from her previous accident.

"He did it," she said, "He really did it!"

Xena tilted a brow, "Did you have any doubt?"

Gabrielle gave a snorting laughter, "Pffft! You kidding? Of course I did!"

Xena gave a slow double take and frowned at the bard, "Then why the hell did you ask him to drive for you?"

She wrinkled her nose and smiled, "I'd been hit on the head!" she said, "I wasn't in my right mind!"

Xena ground her teeth and sighed, "I was going to ride."

"Now that I wouldn't have allowed," she said, "You got a baby to look after."

Xena twisted her mouth angrily and kicked the dusty road, "Stupid baby."

She pulled Gabrielle forward as the crowd gathered at the podium set up in the centre of the square, Timos' Chariot Repair insignia splashed all over it, and on posters on the wall, as well as the brand of chariots both Doris and Joxer were using. It was very confusing. Gabrielle felt Xena push her through to the front of the crowd, Joxer being put on a box on the stage, flower necklaces being piled on around his neck by scantily clad women with big breasts and lots of makeup. Joxer blinked, looking around him with shock, then down to where Gabrielle was. He shrugged at her, looking helplessly at the women that sandwiched him. A bottle of wine was thrust in his hand, and Timos motioned for him to shake it up. He frowned at it, then did as Timos said.

Popping the bottle, wine sprayed everywhere, and with a chuckle of glee he aimed it over the crowd, the girls either side of him grinning and bouncing up and down. His heart soared, total amazement gripping the man. Never in his life had he felt anything like this. It was surreal.

The bottle was taken from him, a large silver cup being thrust into his hands.

A man donning purple silk and satin, a green wrap encircling his sun-spotted head, stepped up to the podium, waving his arms up and down with a white gleaming grin. The crowd calmed down, quietening down to a hush.

"This brave fellow," he said, "Today broke Doris' unbreakable record on the Colorados Boulevard. The tenacity, the spirit and the fire involved in such a feat cannot be measured. The citizens of Lokos Annui and Santos Diegos united - thank you, Joxer."

The crowd wailed and whipped into a frenzy, Joxer wincing at the attention and adoration. The man Joxer assumed was the Magistrate of Santos Diegos threw his arms in the direction of Joxer, and Joxer cleared his throat, blushing wildly.

"Um," he scratched behind his ears, glancing at the beautiful women either side of him, "Wow um - look, it's great an' all - all this. But I could never have done it all on my own. A very special someone helped me build Greece Lightening from the chassis up, and I'd like it if she could come up here on stage so you can all thank her."

Gabrielle, gazing up at Joxer, blushed suddenly, and moving the beautiful buxom women gently aside, Joxer stretched out his arms towards Gabrielle to help her up onto the podium. She grabbed onto his arms, letting him pull her up, and with a stagger she made it onto the stage, wincing at the growing roar around her.

Joxer lifted a hand, and the crowd grew silent. The action stunned him and he looked at his hand, "Wow... um - yeah - This is Gabrielle! Normally she's a bard, but she's also and Amazon Queen, and a really smart one, and she and Xena had planned all these strategies and she helped build the chariot. She was supposed to ride in my place, but I ruined that chance for her and um - this cup really belongs to her - Gabrielle."

Gabrielle's jaw dropped a little as he pushed the sliver glithering cup into her shaking hands, and she shook her head, pushing it back to Joxer, who merely glared and pushed it back. With a burning red blush she finally took the cup, waving to the crowd and wincing in the sunlight and the sheer volume of the crowd. She looked back to Joxer, who smiled bashfully, scratching behind his ear before grabbing the wine and taking a gulp of it. His brows rose and he grinned, nodding in approval.

Doris shook her head, leaning on her son as he helped her into his cart tethered to four white horses, parked around the corner from the noise and frenzy and away from the main street of Santos Diegos.

"That dude beat ya Gramma," he said with a frown, climbing into the cart.

"Yeap," she nodded, "You take a beatin' every once in a while, sonny. But I'm still the Terror of the Boulevard, you remember that!"

The dopey young man nodded, looking down to the reigns in his hands.

"You gonna stop racin' Gram?"

Doris chuckled, waving a delicate wrinkled hand, "Tartarus NO!"

The boy frowned, "But you said!"

Doris leaned to him, crystal blue eyes glinting and defying her age, "I'll steer clear of Lokos Annui, all right! Juss like I agreed to. But I'll be racing from now till the day the old ticker packs it in my boy! Racin's in my blood!"

The fellow grinned, rippling the reigns and bringing the white horses into action. The old rickety cart trundled off with the absurdly expensive horses nodding and leading the way, leaving behind the dying ruckus of the Sunday Race of the Colorados Boulevard, and the triumphant winner blushing madly on the sponsor-plastered podium.

"Love ya Gramma."

The woman patted her grandson on the back, "Love you too sonny."

"A nice warm campfire and a thick furry pelt," moaned Xena contentedly, snuggling into the bedroll, "Now this is what I call relaxation!"

Gabrielle smiled from next to Xena, and rolling over she leant on her elbow, looking to the cup that sat between her and Joxer. Joxer noticed her attention, and rolling over a little he smiled at her from under his blanket, poking his face out after a secret chuckle.

"Who'd a thought," he mumbled, "Me... winning something."

She shrugged, "You win at gambling."

"I know but..." he sighed, shaking his head, "I'm really sorry about the stupid coin... if I hadda-"

"Hey," she said, running her fingers over the edge of the silver cup that gleamed in the cool blue of moonlight, "Accidents happen. Especially with you around. I'm used to it. Besides... you did really good today Joxer. You can't believe how proud of you I am."

"You're right," he nodded, taking in the pleasant contours of her face in the warm cast of the campfire, "I can't."

She grinned, giving his shoulder a friendly push. He sighed, shaking his head at the cup.

"What a trip..."

"You're telling me," the bard said, "Two weeks. We trained a winning combination in two weeks."

"Hard to believe."

Gabrielle watched him run his fingertips over the smooth shiny trophy, his eyes dark and pooling the light in brown liquid orbs. She felt her breath rise and fall, a syncopated action to his longer deeper breaths, their eyes both travelling over their precious shared victory. Testimony to their pooling of efforts, to their union of talent. It amazed her how wonderful everything went with Joxer at her side, his quiet shy side proving to be a reservoir of talent. She looked back to his fingers. The colour of his skin slid over the silvery rim of the cup, the heat of his finger leaving a ring of vapour from the air. She let her own fingertips skim over the rim, and towards his. He let his finger slip back, away from hers, but was cut off again by her fingertips, that slid up his finger. She looked up to his face, that was still, perhaps a little tinged with fear. And hope?

The look on his face as he'd seen her in her borrowed lily-white dress splashed in her mind, his lean tall frame swathed in blue satin and black leather, his beautiful brown eyes glowing against the ensemble. She smiled softly, and leaning forward she felt a warmth spread on her lips as she felt his lips suckle on hers gently, tentatively. She slid her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in, and a low giggle fell from Joxer, vibrating through her lips. She pulled away slowly, looking into his eyes.

"What?"

"Oh," he shook his head, "I was just remembering you when you were knocked out. Your eyes were going all funny and spinny."

She wrinkled her nose with a giggling sigh, "I can't believe you're laughing at that!"

"Well you're okay now," he said, running a finger over the sizeable bump on her head, "If not a little lumpier!"

She smacked him playfully and leant in again, catching him in a longer, more languorous caress. She gave a dreamy sigh, wriggling forward and snuggling into Joxer's arms, pulling her blanket with her. Joxer smiled contentedly, holding the cup and looking at it.

"Our baby," he said. Gabrielle smiled.

"Yep."

"Keep it down you two," Xena sighed, "And don't be slurpin' on each other till the am huh? We gotta move on early tomorrow," She glanced at them over her shoulder with a final irritated twitch of her nostril, "'Bout damned time too." With that she buried herself in her pelt and blankets, a "hmmph" making it's muffled way from the moving pile of bedding.

Gabrielle turned back to Joxer, a cheeky grin flitting over her features. She cuddled him, pulling the cup out between them and putting it just above their heads with her scrolls and his helmet. Looking back down to him she settled against him.

"You looked really good at that dance by the way," she said, a shy smile on her features, "You waltz good too."

Joxer nodded with a cheeky curl of his lips, "Mmm - thank you. You looked amazing..."

She gave a soft laugh.

"Like you always do," he continued, gazing at her up and down, "You still have that dress?"

"No Joxer, I had to give it back."

He nodded. "Damn."

Please take the time to write to Nancy at tosh@opera.iinet.net.au and let her know how you liked the story!

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER:
Xena: Warrior Princess, Xena, Gabrielle, Joxer, and all other characters who have appeared in the series, together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of StudiosUSA and Renaissance Pictures. The lyrics to "The Little Old Lady From Pasadena" are owned by the appropriate copyright holders. The characters of the Little Old Lady, Timos, Alamos, and other occupants of the town were created by the author for use in this fanfic. No infringement of copyrights or trademarks is intended in the writing of this fan fiction. This story is copyright © 2000 by Nancy Lorenz and is her sole property along with the story idea. This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.