To Love, Or Not To Love

Pairings: G/H

Rating: R

Summary: Hercules comes to save the day
when he realizes Xena’s sidekick Gabrielle is
in over her head trying to rescue a group of
Hestian Virgins from being captured and sold
into slavery. He’s only looking to help out a
friend, but ends up finding something more.

Timeline: Set during early season 3, just after
the events in The Dirty Half Dozen.

1.

“This is a really bad idea, Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle whispered the words to herself, even as she prepared to storm the temple, which was being overrun with bandits. Hestian Virgins were a hot commodity nowdays, or perhaps they’d always been, and wealthy traders would pay highly to have one brought to him solely for the pleasure of ruining her virtue. She and Xena had uncovered quite an organized ring which was being orchestrated by an up-and-coming warlord named Tymus.

“Wait for Xena…wait for Xena…” she cautioned herself, her hand gripping her staff, the palm slightly sweaty.

But Xena wasn’t showing, and she didn’t know when the Warrior Princess would arrive. Backup would be nice, but the bandits were getting a little too rough, and a little too familiar, with the virgins they were forcing into wagons in front of the temple.

You’d think, Gabrielle said to herself, Hestia would do something to protect her devotees. But Gabrielle had long ago given up on believing the gods cared about the mortals who kept them in power.

Gabrielle’s decision on whether or not to stay put and wait for backup, or rush in and try to help was cemented when one of the bandits gave a virgin, who couldn’t have been more than twelve, a particularly hard slap across the face, and then knelt over her crumpled form to fondle one partially exposed, budding breast.

With a cry of outrage, Gabrielle rushed from the cover of bushes where she’d been hiding and charged the thug, her staff catching him squarely across the jaw, hard enough to knock him away from the girl where he lay unconscious. With all the confusion and activity of screaming girls trying to escape the bandits, Gabrielle didn’t immediately register as a threat with Tymus’s men.

It didn’t take the thugs long to realize that one of the girls wasn’t a Hestian Virgin, and that she was fighting back, hard. Gabrielle had managed to disable four thugs before she found herself surrounded by men with swords drawn.

“Look what we have here, boys. A concerned citizen,” one of the thugs taunted.

“What’s this?”

Another man, who Gabrielle had noticed remained on the sidelines watching the action, approached Gabrielle slowly on horseback. Most likely he wasn’t Tymus, but Tymus’s second or even third in command. He brought new meaning to the word ugly, his battle-hardened face badly scarred from many years of run-ins with an assortment of weapons, including fire, judging by the burn scars on the left side of his neck.

“She’s been putting up a fight,” the taunter said.

Gabrielle hissed when she felt a sharp poke in the back with the tip of a sword. Spinning deftly on her heel, she drove her staff under the blade pointed at her and directly into the wielder’s crotch, sending him to his knees, whimpering in pain. She didn’t stop there. Gabrielle made quick work of two more men before catching a blow to the head that knocked her to her back.

Dizzy, her mouth filling with blood, Gabrielle struggled to focus and find her staff, to keep fighting, just as Xena had taught her. She spit, but felt a terrible pain when a boot connected heavily with her left hip. She cried out and tried to roll away, but a meaty hand snatched a handful of her hair, hauling her roughly to her knees. The man on horseback laughed.

“So much, Virgins, for your would-be defender. Kill the little bitch!”

A man came to stand before her, drew his sword back, and prepared to thrust it into Gabrielle’s stomach. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain, waiting for the end, but it didn’t come. Instead her would-be killer hollered out in pain. She opened her eyes and saw the man tumbling away from her like a rag-doll. The man on horseback now had wide, anxiety-filled eyes.

“You!”

Gabrielle wondered what was going on, why the Virgins were suddenly cheering, but she quickly got her answer. Hercules stepped into her line of sight.

“Let go of her hair. Now,” he said. His voice was calm, but brooked absolutely no argument. The cold metal of a sword came to rest against her throat.

“Back off, Hercules.”

A look of fake surprise comically contorted Hercules’s strong, handsome features. “You know me on sight? I’m touched.”

With inhumanly fast reflexes, Hercules snatched the blade of the sword with his bare hand. The thug tried to cut Hercules’s hand by pulling the blade back, but it was pointless. The world’s strongest man had a solid grip on the blade, which he yanked from the man’s grip, flipped over so that he had hold of the hilt, and then he put the sharp point to the thugs throat.

“I said, let go of her hair.”

“Hercules, behind you!” Gabrielle tried to warn. Two thugs were rushing Hercules, swords drawn. He spun, swinging the sword in his hand hard, and breaking the enemies blades in half. Continuing the spin, Hercules rounded, punching the thug that still held Gabrielle squarely on the jaw. He collapsed, letting go of Gabrielle’s hair.

“They always have to do things the hard way,” he said, offering Gabrielle a hand and pulling her easily to her feet. “Where’s Xena?”

“The next village, finishing up some business with a warrior we just defeated.”

“You mean Agathon?” Hercules said.

“Wow! Word travels fast.”

“I was on my way—” Hercules paused long enough to knock out two of the three warriors who rushed him. Gabrielle had scooped up her staff and took care of the third for him. “To deal with Agathon and Ares myself, but by the time I got to the village limits I heard Xena had squared things. I thought I’d find the two of you for a little visit.”

Gabrielle wasn't naive. 'A little visit' from Hercules usually meant Gabrielle waiting alone at the campfire with Iolaus, who wasn't with Hercules at the moment, while Hercules took Xena off into the woods, not to be seen again until the next afternoon. Gabrielle had always wondered why the two of them didn't travel together, since they couldn't keep their hands off each other whenever they were together, but that wasn't her business. She usually spent her time trying not to eye Hercules too much, or be too friendly with him, or give away her own secret desires for the son of Zeus. Besides, there was something in the set of Hercules’s shoulders that bothered Gabrielle. He looked like a man weighed down with fresh pain…or perhaps old pain that had found its way to the surface of his heart.

“She was supposed to meet up with me here, but something’s holding her up,” Gabrielle said, but the conversation had to be cut short, and the fighting picked up pace as every man who attacked the temple rushed toward them, swords raised, and battle cries on their lips.

2.

With the action over, and the Virgins put away, Gabrielle had time to fully absorb the impact of her injuries. Her scalp hurt where the thug had gripped her hair, there was a burning cut on her neck, her hip, where she’d been kicked, but luckily the bruise wasn’t that large, about half the size of her fist. It was very dark, though, and extremely tender. Even the material of her skirts hurt to rub against it, and she favored the leg with each step. All in all, though, she considered herself lucky to be alive.

Because a man wasn’t allowed to sleep inside the temple, not even a son of Zeus’s, Gabrielle had decided to leave with him. Out of gratitude the Priestess had made sure the two of them had supplies, providing them with new bed rolls, breads, cheeses, wine, and a parchment full of fresh mutton, as well as some herbs and spices. Argo was loaded down with the cooking supplies, so Gabrielle and Hercules had been provided with a pot and a fry pan, and a couple of skins of cold water.

“Where are we bunking?” Gabrielle asked.

“There’s a nice place down by the river. It’s about an hours walk, but it’s flat and free of rocks,” Hercules said.

They set off, Gabrielle carrying an oil lamp to light their way, also courtesy of the temple, though the lamp was solely for her benefit. She knew Hercules was capable of seeing much better in the dark than any normal human, a benefit of being half-god. As promised, about an hour later Hercules stopped, and they began to set up camp. It was quick work with her rolling out the bedrolls and getting ready to cook while Hercules gathered wood for the fire.

“I really thought Xena would have been here before now,” Gabrielle said. The mutton was seasoned and roasting over an open flame, turned occasionally by Gabrielle, who rooted through the sack of food they’d been given, finding lots of goodies.

“They were really good to us,” Hercules said, holding up a plump olive. “This olive is as big as an eyeball.”

“That’s a disgusting comparison, Herc,” Gabrielle teased, but Hercules bit into it. There were figs for desert, which Gabrielle set aside while she cut up bread and cheese, and wondered how to broach the subject of what was bothering her immortal friend.

“Is something wrong, Hercules?”

“What makes you say that?”

Gabrielle shrugged. “You’re quiet tonight. You seem…heavy hearted.”

“Do I?” he caged.

“Come on, it’s me, Gabrielle. You can tell me anything. If you want. No pressure.”

Herc put his knees to his massive chest and looped his fingers together. “I recently dealt with some old faces from my past.”

Gabrielle nodded. “So did Xena. I take it your situation didn’t go well?”

Taking a deep breath, staring straight at the fire but seeing things that had happened years before, Hercules began a halting tale of what had happened to him recently.

“You were young, Hercules. Young people make mistakes, you know that.”

“That’s cold comfort to me now.”

“The hardest person to forgive is always yourself. That’s something Xena told me.”

“Xena told you right.”

When the meat was done, Gabrielle served it up, giving most of it to Hercules. They ate in silence, and then climbed into their bed rolls, sensing it was very late. She heard Hercules sigh from his place on the other side of the fire.

“I really wish Xena were here,” he said, almost to himself. “I miss her comfort.”

Gabrielle felt her heart began to pound. “I could be your comfort,” she said. At once she regretted speaking, especially when Hercules’s head turned toward her. She began to speak in a rush, saying, “I’m sorry, forget I said anything. I was out of line. Goodnight.”

Turning her back to Hercules, Gabrielle cursed herself for being so forward. He’d probably lost all respect for her. She felt her entire body burn with embarrassment. She’d worked years to earn his respect, only to throw it away with one careless comment.

She was almost asleep when she felt Hercules’s massive, reassuring form come to rest behind her.

“May I hold you?” he whispered.

Without turning to face him, Gabrielle nodded. Her entire body felt like warm goo on the inside, and a quivering mass of nerves on the outside. How many nights had she fantasized about something happening between her and Hercules? Now it was coming true…sort of. He probably had something platonic in mind, unfortunately.

The bedroll wasn’t large enough for the both of them, so she kicked it off her feet. She didn’t need it, with Hercules holding her, since his entire body was as warm as the fire that now crackled behind him. His strong arms came to rest around her, pulling her close. They lay that way for a few minutes, with Gabrielle struggling to remain still, to control her breathing lest Hercules realize just how excited she was to be so near to him. But then he soon gave her reason to betray her excitement with a small hiss of pleasure when one of his thumbs very boldly caressed one of her nipples. His lips, warm and soft, came to rest against her ear.

“I hope I’m not misinterpreting you,” he said. “If you want me to stop I’ll—”

“No, don’t stop,” Gabrielle whispered. The hand that has stroked her nipple to a hard peak now raked over her body, and came to gently lift her leg over his, exposing the bruise on her hip when her shift fell away. His fingers ever so gently ran over the damaged flesh, sending shivers into the core of her body. The shiver turned to an ache, though, when Hercules’s powerful fingers found the soft, wet folds of her womanhood, and began to stroke the hard nub just above her entrance.

Her embarrassment gone, Gabrielle gave in to Hercules’s expert touch, and lost herself in the pleasure he sought to give her.

3.

The singing of the birds roused Gabrielle from sleep the following morning, as they usually did, just as the sun was staining the eastern sky with pink light. There were clouds moving in from the north, which wasn’t unusual since the rainy season was approaching. The first thing she’d noticed, however, was that Hercules was missing.

He must have decided to leave, Gabrielle thought, while I was still asleep. Save us both the embarrassment of what happened last night. He’ll probably never want to see me again.

She couldn’t really blame him. After all, she was nothing but the little sidekick of his occasional lover, who’d nursed a crush on him since before she’d ever met him.

Gabrielle pulled on her underclothes and surveyed the camp. She’d expected to find left-over dishes to clear up, though Hercules had already fixed his bedroll, but the dishes were clean and sitting in a neat little pile by the ashes of the fire. She could feel in her body, as she stood, that she’d been with a man, and a well-endowed one at that. Even with her heart aching and her face burning with embarrassment at being a woman whose lover had skipped out rather than face her, she recalled the previous night fondly. Hercules was a great lover. No wonder Xena got such a kick out of their ‘visits.’

“Good morning.”

Gabrielle jumped and spun around. Hercules approached with both of their water skins filled, and an armload of dry firewood. Though he smiled, he didn’t look her in the eye. Instead, his eyes were glued to the smoldering pile of ashes that had been their camp fire.

“Morning. I thought you’d gone.”

That brought his eyes up to meet her. “Leave without saying goodbye? I would never.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t,” Gabrielle replied awkwardly. She really had hoped that the next time she saw him things wouldn’t be awkward, but she’d assumed their next meeting would me months away, enough time for them to delude themselves into thinking nothing had really happened between them, that it had all been a vivid, shared dream.

Gabrielle accepted her water skin, careful not to allow her hand to brush his. “I’m going to take a bath,” she said. “In the river.”

Hercules nodded and set about making a new fire. Grateful to have something to do, to be away from the awkward silence, Gabrielle walked down the decline to the river and undressed, wondering if Hercules could see her.

What does it matter? He’s already seen me naked. He’s been as intimate with my body as Perdicas, so why so shy all of a sudden? Pull yourself together, Gabrielle.

The water was unpleasantly cold, so Gabrielle set about washing up as best she could, wishing she’d brought some soap from her supply bag, which was strung around Argo’s saddle at that very moment. When she was done, she found Hercules was retreating up the incline, but he’d left some dry cloth for her to pat the water from her skin. She smiled. He was an extremely thoughtful man. Would he have done the same, if they hadn’t made love?

Was love-making really the best way to describe what they’d done? Wasn’t it more convenient comfort for Hercules, and a chance to be with an old crush for her? It didn’t mean anything, really. It was just an act that was going to become her and Hercules’s dirty little secret to keep from Xena and Iolaus, and that was all.

And what about Xena? How would she react if she ever found out? Would she be angry with the two of them? Hurt? Gabrielle realized, as she got dressed again with fresh underclothes, that she didn’t really know how Xena felt about Hercules. She knew they were good friends, but was Xena really in love with Hercules? Or were they good friends with benefits?

Her belly churning with anxiety, Gabrielle climbed the small hill with long, purposeful strides. She and Hercules would have to talk about what happened. There could be no pretending that everything was the same as it always had been. She approached the fire, and Hercules took one look at her face and burst out laughing.

Feeling wrong-footed, Gabrielle came up short. “What’s so funny?”

“The look on your face,” he said.

“What look is that?”

“The look most warriors reserve for their fiercest enemy. You look like you’re about to storm Mt. Olympus and bitch slap Hera.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Suddenly Gabrielle was laughing with him, and she felt much more at ease about what she’d come to talk to him about.

“We need to talk.”

“Yeah…”

“Xena can never know.”

Hercules nodded. “Agreed.”

“Normally I wouldn’t ask but…you and Xena…”

“We love each other, but we’re not in love. We’ve each got a journey to make, and it’s not together, no matter how much we may wish it could be. We have an unspoken agreement that we can be together when its right, but we can also be with other people.”

“But I don’t think Xena had me in mind as being one of your ‘other people.’”

“No, she probably didn’t. It’s nobody’s business but ours, Gabrielle.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No,” he said, looking her in the eye with so much sincerity that she knew he was telling the truth. “Not one bit.”

“Me either.”

“Good. Now that we’ve cleared that up, what do you say we head into the next village? You can wait there for Xena, and I can try to find a lead that will get me closer to Tymus.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said. After a quick breakfast of bread, cheese, and the last of the wine, Hercules put out the fire and they started walking for the next village, a journey that would take them most of the day on foot.

They reached a small inn called the Lost Lamb in the next village. It was a clean little place where families could stay without fear of being harassed by roughnecks. That kind of tavern was on the other side of town. Hercules made sure Gabrielle was settled into a room, which he paid for, and the two of them walked to the other place, something called the Bloody Dagger, as the last of the light began to fade. The music could be heard far from the place, as well as several cat calls from rowdy men who harassed housewives who’d made the mistake of getting home a little late. They gave Gabrielle openly appreciative looks, but none of them were fool enough to get out of the way with a traveling companion like Hercules, even if they didn’t know who he was on sight.

The inside of the tavern was a filthy mess. Food was scattered on the floor, mixed in with spilled drink, even spilled blood, judging by the large red stain on the floor by the serving counter. A man was dipping wooden goblets into buckets of ale and passing them over to customers in exchange for gold. His eyes fell on Hercules and squinted, which was really something to see considering the man’s eyes were beady little things already that reminded Gabrielle of two little black bugs that had crawled onto some raw bread dough.

“Room for you and the lady?” he asked woodenly.

“No, just a room for me,” Hercules said.

While he conducted business, Gabrielle turned to watch the mayhem in the room. Whores mingled in the crowd, their lips parted in smiles that never got anywhere near their dead-looking eyes. Many had rotted teeth and tangled hair, but that meant nothing to the drunkards who groped them.

“Gabrielle?”

Gabrielle looked over. Glaphyra, a woman who’d helped her and Xena overcome Agathon approached. Her fingers were laced with the tall, handsome bearded man warrior Darnelle, whose face was forever lit up with a cocky grin. He winked licentiously at Gabrielle over Glaphyra’s head, and then looked away. Gabrielle understood that it was bad habit, one that Glaphyra would surely break him of before long—if the two of them made it as a couple and didn’t kill one another.

“Glaphyra! What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you that. I thought Xena was rounding up the last of Agathon’s men? Many of them had raped some village women. One of the victims was a ten year old girl.”

“And Xena’s after them?”

“Yeah, plans to round them up,” Darnelle said. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Hercules.”

“Hercules as in the son of Zeus?” asked Darnelle.

“Doesn’t he look like the son of Zeus?” Glaphyra asked, eyeing Hercules with an appreciative, lusty look of her own.

“That’s me,” said Hercules.

“Herc, Darnelle and Glaphyra. Without them, Xena and I couldn’t have overcome Agathon and Ares.”

Hercules shook their hands. “Good to meet you.”

“We’re about to go across town to get a room at the Lost Lamb,” Glaphyra said. “This place is too noisy to sleep in.”

“I think you’re right,” Gabrielle said. “Herc, you should come back with us.”

“I’m not exactly here to sleep, remember? Trying to round up Tymus’s men.”

“Why don’t the two of you take my room at the Lost Lamb?” Gabrielle offered. “I’m filling in as Herc’s sidekick on this one.”

“Gabrielle, you won’t get a wink of sleep here,” Hercules said, half exasperated, half amused. “Okay, I’ll get a room at the Lost Lamb,” the strong man finally conceded. “I’ll come back early tomorrow and interrogate these men while they’re hung over.”

Smiling at her little victory, Gabrielle took Glaphyra’s hand and the two women preceded their men from the Bloody Dagger.

“How is it that creatures so little can so easily control us?” Darnelle asked, following the two laughing women as they whispered something undoubtedly related about Darnelle and Hercules.

“If you think they’re bad, wait till you have children. Your sense of manly pride flies right out the window when your find yourself bending over backwards to make a three year old girl laugh.”

Darnelle looked genuinely horrified. Hercles clapped him on the arm.

“Don’t worry. Once that time comes, you’ll find you wouldn’t trade it for all the gold in the world.”

Darnelle looked doubtful, but Hercules remembered the feeling quite well. As he walked behind Gabrielle, admiring her impressively firm, round bottom, he had the feeling that his one-time thing with Gabrielle was going to become a two, or most likely, three-time thing.