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  Some Enchanted Evening 
 by Randi DuMois  
 


 They had just finished rounding up the last of Thanatos' gang when the
mist-shrouded swamp around them was suddenly full of horsemen. Iolaus
looked around wildly, recognizing the livery as Nemean palace guard. With
the sick feeling that he had just walked into a trap, he turned accusingly
to Hercules. "What is this?" 

 "I'm not sure." With a faint frown, Hercules studied the men who were
rapidly surrounding them. 

 An older man dressed in battered leather armor touched with brass and
gold ornaments approached and dismounted, saying, "You're Hercules?" 

 Hercules nodded easily. "Yes. You're General Telegonus? King Trankus told
me about you." 

 Uh oh. Iolaus swallowed in a dry throat. As the two men clasped forearms
in greeting, the guards spread out. Some stayed on horseback and others
seized the gang members who were still reeling around on the ground,
recovering from the fight. Iolaus tensed when he saw them grab Zeno, but
he was so outnumbered there was nothing he could do. Telegonus nodded
approval, saying, "I see you got Zeno. Calamis and I have been out hunting
bandits." He jerked his head toward the other nobleman still sitting his
horse. He was younger, with saturnine features and long dark hair, and was
looking away with a bored expression. Telegonus lowered his voice
confidentially, "He's not much, but he's all there is at the Nemean court
nowadays." In a normal tone he continued, "I heard a rumor there was
infighting in Zeno's gang and that a large group was out here. Seemed a
good time to try rounding them up, but I see you beat us to it." 

 During this exchange Iolaus managed to casually fall back a couple of
steps, hoping if he looked like he knew what he was doing he could just
stroll away. If Hercules would let him go. 

 He still had no idea why the guy had helped him save Zeno from drowning,
or why he had claimed to know Iolaus on the beach this morning. That had
to be a trick, he thought, disgusted with himself for falling for it. It
had sure worked. The overwhelming superstitious terror that had come over
him when Hercules had spoken that way had been impossible to resist. But
surely if Hercules wanted to turn him in, he could have done that back in
the city. He took another casual step back, almost ready to turn and
wander away, when the general spiked this wheel by looking right at him
and asking, "Who's this?" 

 The demigod reached out a long arm and snagged the shoulder of his vest.
Surrounded and trapped, Iolaus waited for him to say, "Here's one of
them," and shove him toward the guards. Instead he pulled him to his side
and said, "This is Iolaus. He's with me." 

 Iolaus stared up at him, startled. "I'm what with you?" he demanded. 

 This finally caught the languid Calamis' attention. He stared down at
them from horseback, a sardonic smile playing about his lips. 

 "Ah, I see." Telegonus nodded, eyeing Iolaus thoughtfully. "It's odd but,
you know, one of my guards told me Zeno had a new enforcer called Iolaus."


 Hercules smiled equably. "What a coincidence." 

 The general smiled back. "Yes. A coincidence." 

 "Uh huh." 

 Calamis nudged his horse closer, looking Iolaus over with interest. "I
can't approve your choice, Hercules." He added kindly, "But perhaps he'll
clean up well." 

 "At least a bath will fix what's wrong with me," Iolaus shot back, then
mentally cursed his big mouth. Keeping a low profile at the moment might
be a better idea. 

 Calamis' brows lifted in appreciation. "I see. Perhaps I can approve your
choice. He is the best of a bad lot." 

 As Telegonus coughed in embarrassment, Hercules gave Calamis an
exasperated look from under lowered brows and said under his breath,
"Yeah, that's all I needed." 

 That's all you need? Iolaus thought, annoyed. If they were going to talk
about him as if he wasn't here, they could do it without him. He said,
"I'm going to check on Zeno." 

 He shouldered past Hercules and crossed the clearing to where Telegonus'
men had the gang members under guard. Thanatos and several of the others
were still unconscious, the rest sullen and nursing their bruises. Sitting
on his heels beside Zeno to pretend to check the man's bonds, Iolaus
whispered, "I'm getting you out of here." 

 Zeno shook his head and replied quietly, "No, son. I couldn't keep up
with you." 

 "But--" 

 "I can't run anymore." The old man turned his head, coughed hard into his
sleeve. He was gasping by the time the fit ended and Iolaus watched him
worriedly. Zeno shook his head. "My lungs weren't good before Thanatos
tried to drown me, now...." He glanced up wearily, admitting, "I'm done,
Iolaus." 

 Iolaus looked away, swearing under his breath. He wasn't willing to give
up on Zeno just yet, but he had to admit the gang leader didn't look as if
he could manage an escape right now. His gaze fell on Hercules speaking to
Telegonus. Somehow he could tell that Hercules' casual stance meant the
man was still watching him. "He told them I'm with him." 

 "I heard." Zeno edged forward and said carefully, "Look, if that's what
it takes to stay out of these chains, don't be a fool." 

 Iolaus frowned. A thought teased the back of his mind, that maybe that
wasn't the best advice and that it certainly wasn't what somebody else
would have suggested he do. He tried to think who that somebody else was
and what they would have said under the circumstances, but the tentative
images scattered as soon as he tried to focus on them. He swallowed a
curse, frustrated. Jerking his head toward Hercules, he asked, "Is he
really a demigod?" 

 Eyeing the big man, Zeno nodded slowly. "That's what they say. The Son of
Zeus." 

 Iolaus let out his breath and muttered sourly, "Great." How did I get
into this? Things were going so well, too. 

 *** 

 Telegonus sent for extra men, remounts and a wagon to transport the
prisoners. It was twilight by the time it arrived and Iolaus thought,
great, more soldiers, just what I needed. 

 It was obvious Telegonus didn't believe Hercules' story about who Iolaus
was, but the general wasn't going to call the demigod a liar -- at least
not yet. Prince Calamis had made it plain he thought Hercules was more
interested in getting into Iolaus' pants than in seeing him hauled off to
prison. Iolaus preferred this attitude, since it was also obvious the
prince was enjoying everyone's discomfort too much to interfere. Iolaus
had to admit it was the only reason he could come up with to explain why
the demigod had prevented him from being arrested with the others. But
while it was a flattering thought, he wasn't sure if he believed it or
not. This morning you tried to kill the guy for a wagonload of money, then
he shows up and wants to help you. There had to be some reason for it. 

 But right now Iolaus was more worried about Zeno. Despite the fire Iolaus
had built and a spare cloak donated by Telegonus' lieutenant, the gang
leader looked badly ill and his cough was worse. Iolaus didn't like facing
the fact, but he was beginning to realize that Zeno had spoken the truth;
an escape attempt would surely kill him. 

 And right now the trip back to town might kill Zeno too. The wagon would
be slow and as the sun sank it was rapidly getting colder. If Zeno could
just stay the night here, by the fire.... Even here in the dank swamp
would be better than on the open road. There was only one thing to do.
Iolaus turned to look for Hercules and twitched in surprise when he found
the demigod practically standing at his elbow. "What?" Hercules asked
imperturbably. 

 Iolaus eyed him a moment. The man would probably think he was just
stalling, trying to create an opportunity to run, but he had to try. He
plunged in, "Zeno won't last the night on the road. If we could stay here
till morning--" 

 Hercules was already nodding. "I was thinking that myself. Let's go talk
to Telegonus." 

 'Let's,' Iolaus thought with a snort. As if he'd listen to me. If
Telegonus had any proof Iolaus was Zeno's second, he would be in chains so
fast his head would spin. But he followed the demigod anyway. 

 Iolaus stood by, arms folded, tense with impatience as Hercules explained
the situation to Telegonus. The general nodded amiably and turned to
Calamis, saying, "I'm not particularly keen on riding through the dark
myself. There's that royal hunting lodge nearby, we could stop there for
the night and press on to the city in the morning." He rubbed his hands
together briskly. "We'll certainly get dinner much quicker that way." 

 Calamis shrugged and yawned. "As you wish. The place barely has any
staff, it'll be like camping in a ditch." 

 As the nobleman strolled away, Telegonus sighed and murmured to Hercules,
"A ditch with a Roman style dining room and a hypocaust under the baths.
And people wonder where the Nemean taxes go." 

 Hercules made a polite noncommittal noise and Iolaus was suddenly aware
that it conveyed both a resigned irritation that men like Calamis spent
dinari meant for their people but also a certain wariness over Telegonus'
confidences. He found himself staring up at the big man in amazement.
Hercules started to look down at him and Iolaus hastily avoided his eyes.
That was just...weird. 

 He would have thought it was just his imagination...except for what had
happened this morning on the beach. He said he knew me. But that was just
crazy. How did somebody like him get mixed up with a demigod? 

 Standing there, he realized Hercules' hand had come to rest on the back
of his neck. Again. Iolaus rolled his eyes. Every time he got within
reach, Hercules acted like he was an armrest. It wasn't possessive or
threatening, and it wasn't the gesture itself that bothered him. It was
the casual intimacy of the way Hercules did it. Like it was a habit, like
he was a friend. Grimly, Iolaus said, "Do you mind taking your hand off
me?" 

 Hercules did, immediately. Sounding embarrassed, he muttered, "Sorry." 

 With the extra guards who had arrived, Telegonus' men didn't need help
getting the prisoners into the wagon. Thanatos, certain to be the most
combative, was still unconscious and the other men were subdued and aching
from the fight. As they got ready to leave, Iolaus was nonplussed when
somebody handed him a bridle attached to a big chestnut horse. 

 Without thinking, he checked the girth, shortened the near rein, swung
himself into the saddle and settled his weight as the horse snorted and
tried to move off. Huh, I can ride. He was pretty damn good at it too.
Mentally he added that to the tally he was currently calling Things I
Remember How to Do. It was a pretty good number so far. It was too bad the
tally labelled People and Events I Remember After Age Fifteen was still
empty. 

 He and Hercules rode behind the wagon, some of the soldiers bringing up
the rear. Hercules rode competently enough but Iolaus could tell he was
uncomfortable with it and probably didn't do it often. 

 Iolaus knew the demigod was still watching him. Part of him badly wanted
to turn the horse toward the darkening forest and ride like Tartarus out
of here. He knew he could make it; once he was deep in the woods, he could
turn the horse loose to make a false trail. Hercules would be fast, but
Iolaus knew he only had to lose him in the dark and reach the deep forest
up in the hills. There were ways to cover his tracks, lay false trails.
Some of them were coming back to him now, enough that he knew the rest
would be there in his head when he needed them. But he owed too much to
Zeno. If he couldn't get the old man out of this, the least he could do
was make sure he got back to town alive. 

 And besides, if Iolaus ran now he would be hunted in Nemea and probably
beyond. Zeno was right, it made more sense to wait this out and take the
chance to walk away a free man. And besides.... 

 This is just too damn weird. He was too intrigued by the whole situation
to walk away. He had to see how this played out. He sighed, saw Hercules
glance at him and look away. I just hope curiosity doesn't land me in
prison. 

 *** 

 They rode through the gate into the open court of the hunting lodge just
as the last of the daylight failed and the shadows closed in. 

 The lodge was built around two sides of the court, with the stables and
kitchens on the third. The rooms all opened off a lower portico and an
upper gallery and in the dark it looked fairly bleak. While surprised
caretakers ran around lighting lamps and torches, Telegonus' men herded
the prisoners into the stables. The big chamber was currently empty except
for a couple of mules and just as cold and dark and cavernous as the rest
of the lodge looked. 

 Iolaus made sure Zeno was separated from the other men in a tack room
which had a brazier to warm it. The gang leader had his own guard assigned
by Telegonus, so there was no opportunity for them to talk, but as Iolaus
pretended to check his bonds again Zeno whispered, "Good luck." 

 Crossing back through the dim cavern of the stable, Iolaus saw Thanatos
was finally awake and fighting. Watching the soldiers struggle to chain
him to a post, Iolaus told himself grimly, that could be you. It still
could, if he wasn't careful. 

 As the soldiers withdrew, Thanatos spotted Iolaus. He glared, jerking his
chains tight as he surged to his feet. "Traitor," Thanatos snarled. 

 Iolaus glanced at the guards standing in the open doorway, barely out of
earshot. But he took a step closer and said incredulously, "You're calling
me a traitor?" 

 "You turned us in to Hercules, you bastard!" 

 Furious but trying to keep his voice low, Iolaus said, "What do you mean,
'us?' If you hadn't been a stupid greedy son of a bacchae and tried to
take over the gang and kill Zeno, everything would have been fine!" The
gang had been too strong for the Nemean magistrates to fight, but when
Thanatos had split everyone into factions it had made them easy targets.
Iolaus couldn't believe even Thanatos was so witless he couldn't see that.
"As long as we stuck together, they couldn't take us on. You made it easy
for them!" 

 If Thanatos saw it now, he wasn't going to admit it. Turning red under
his bruises, he spat, "So you think you can go from being Zeno's little
lapdog to Hercules'? Scum like you?" He laughed. "What do you think that's
going to get you?" 

 Not having a reply for that, Iolaus kicked Thanatos in the groin, leaving
him puking into the straw as he walked out of the stables. He almost ran
into Hercules, who was standing with his hands planted on his hips
thoughtfully surveying the dark courtyard. 

 "Thanatos is going to tell them who I am," he said bluntly, folding his
arms. "The only reason he hasn't done it so far is he's too stupid to
think of it right away." There was an implied "so what are you going to do
about it" in that statement, but he didn't really believe Hercules would
intervene if Telegonus decided to make an issue of it. Iolaus sure
couldn't blame him; the guy was a hero and would have a reputation to
protect. 

 Hercules just nodded. "We'll deal with that when it happens." There were
only a few torches lit in the courtyard and it was hard to read his
expression in the flickering red light, but he sounded preoccupied. Iolaus
got another one of those weird impressions, that Hercules had been out
here wondering how much Telegonus knew and what to do about it. That's
ridiculous, it's not his problem, Iolaus thought, annoyed with his
overactive imagination. There was only one person he could rely on and
that was himself. Then Hercules turned, starting for the main building of
the lodge, saying, "Come on." 

 Iolaus stayed where he was. "Come on where?" he said. This was the first
chance he had had to find out why Hercules had lied for him and exactly
what the demigod had in mind. 

 Hercules paused, then let out a breath in resignation. "We've been
invited to dinner," he said grimly. 

 Iolaus lifted his brows. Okay, I heard that wrong. "You mean you've been
invited to dinner." 

 "I mean both of us." 

 Iolaus frowned, looking toward the main building across the court, where
lamplight now blossomed in the windows. "You're kidding." 

 "I wish I was." 

 *** 

 "This is stupid," Iolaus whispered for possibly the eighth time as he
followed Hercules along the dark portico. "Besides, they won't notice if
I'm not there." 

 "Yes, they will," Hercules said through gritted teeth. 

 "But--" He cut the protest off sharply as Hercules pushed the door open
and they were suddenly in the firelight and warmth of the dining room. 

 Telegonus had been right, it was luxurious. Painted wall hangings kept
out the drafts and the floor was covered with a mosaic of a stag hunt. The
couches were arranged around a low marble-topped table and draped with
expensive-looking linen and softened with brocaded cushions. Telegonus and
his lieutenant and Prince Calamis and a couple of his courtiers were
already seated, making polite pre-dinner small talk, and there was only
one couch left. Iolaus hesitated, with half a mind to just turn around and
leave. As if he had read that thought, Hercules sat down, grabbed the back
of Iolaus' vest and yanked. Iolaus sat down hard, glared at the demigod
and jerked his vest back into place. 

 I should have made a run for it, Iolaus thought glumly, ignoring Calamis'
intrigued expression and the too-polite-to-comment-looks the others were
exchanging. He hadn't pictured having to sit through a semi-formal dinner
with a prince, a general and their hangers-on. He shifted uneasily,
feeling awkward. The way the dining couches were built, it would have been
more comfortable to lean against his companion instead of maintaining an
independent perch, but there was just no way in Tartarus he was going to
do that. 

 "I'm sorry I can't offer you dancing girls, Telegonus," Calamis was
saying, surveying the table over the rim of his wine cup with an air of
dissatisfaction. 

 "I wouldn't want to drag the poor women out here, it couldn't do much for
their tempers," the general replied affably, leaning back on his couch. 

 A couple of servants who probably doubled as grooms entered and began to
put food on the table. There were bowls of fruit, olives and nuts, then
platters of roast pheasant and fish, and Iolaus' stomach, having no idea
of the social difficulties, grumbled in anticipation. 

 "Still, a host should offer his guests some sort of entertainment. Flute
girls." Calamis' gaze strayed to Iolaus speculatively. "Or boys." 

 Iolaus rolled his eyes in annoyance. He muttered, "Damn, I left my
cithara back in town." 

 He realized the mutter had been a little louder than he had intended when
Calamis lifted his brows and Hercules made a faint choking noise. Cithara
boys were almost as notorious at dinner parties as flute girls. 

 Telegonus cleared his throat and asked, "Iolaus, how long have you and
Hercules known each other?" 

 "Ah...." Caught off guard just as he was reaching for a pheasant leg,
Iolaus groped for an answer. "A long time." 

 "Since we were boys," Hercules put in easily. "We grew up together." 

 Iolaus nodded emphatically, taking a big bite of pheasant to discourage
conversation. Okay, that's our story, try to remember it. 

 "I see." Telegonus nodded. "So what do you and Iolaus do together?" 

 Hercules stared blankly at him, as if he was having trouble coming up
with an answer. Or as if Calamis' attitude had made his mind go where
Iolaus' had at the question and it was taking him a moment to change
tracks. The demigod shook his head slightly, as if snapping himself out of
it, and answered, "We help people." 

 "How very rewarding," Calamis interjected. He sighed, leaning back and
staring at the ceiling meditatively, as if contemplating the prospect. "It
must be a very rough life. Of course, some people prefer it rough...." 

 Iolaus snorted. "Some people could take on more than they could handle
and get hurt right here-- Ow!" This last was delivered in an accusatory
tone to Hercules, who had just kicked him in the ankle. They exchanged
glares again and Iolaus shifted around on the couch to rub the injured
area, fighting down the urge to say "he started it." 

 Calamis just smiled. Iolaus had to admit, the guy could take it just as
well as he gave it out. He turned that thought over again and shook his
head at himself. Iolaus, don't go there, not right this moment. 

 *** 

 Dinner dragged on interminably. Telegonus and Calamis sparred over Nemean
politics and Hercules pretended to be interested. Again Iolaus had no idea
how he knew that Hercules, while he had every appearance of being deeply
involved in the discussion, was actually only giving it a tiny fraction of
his attention while the rest of his mind was occupied with something else.


 Finally the party broke up and Iolaus told Hercules, "I'm going to check
the prisoners," and plunged out into the courtyard without waiting for an
answer. 

 This is not going to work, he told himself. He still hadn't a clue why
Hercules was protecting him. Telegonus wasn't buying it and there was just
no way Iolaus could pull off this hero act. And the demigod had already
tricked him once on the beach; how did he know this whole thing wasn't
just a trap? You are going to feel so stupid if this turns out to be just
a way to get you back to the town jail without a fight. He stopped in the
darkness of the courtyard, running a hand through his hair and cursing
himself under his breath. He had let himself be intrigued and taken in by
the demigod's apparent interest in him and that was a dumb mistake. He had
to get out of here now. 

 Iolaus took a quick tour of the guard positions around the lodge, marking
the number and alertness of the sentries. Then he went to see Zeno again. 

 Obviously Telegonus hadn't shared any suspicions with his men and being
seen as an adjunct to Hercules had its benefits. The Nemean guardsmen
treated Iolaus like he had a right to be here and to give orders, and the
man watching Zeno even believed him when he said he needed to question the
gang leader in private. 

 Zeno looked much better for the rest in the warm room. Iolaus sat on his
heels next to him and said quietly. "Look, I think we can make a break for
it. I--" 

 "Iolaus, no." Zeno shook his head emphatically. "I've been doing some
thinking. I can't live this life anymore. It's time for me to stop." 

 "You can--" Iolaus lowered his voice hastily, with a worried glance at
the door. "You can retire some other place besides prison!" 

 Zeno shook his head firmly. "I'd always be looking over my shoulder,
waiting for them to find me. No, this is the only way." 

 Iolaus tried to argue but Zeno was adamant. Finally he knew he couldn't
stay much longer without one of the guards getting suspicious or Hercules
coming to look for him. "I've got to go," he said, standing up. One hand
on the door, he hesitated, shaking his head helplessly. "Zeno--" 

 "Look, I'm taking my only way out," Zeno told him in a harsh whisper.
"And I'm telling you to take a way out that doesn't involve a detour
through a Nemean prison." 

 As Iolaus left the stables he heard one of the Nemeans say, "So that's
really him?" 

 "Yeah, I saw him at the Pythian Games, the four horse chariot races...." 

 Must be talking about Hercules, Iolaus thought, distracted. Though it was
odd that someone who avoided riding would go in for the chariot events. He
crossed the court aimlessly, still seething with indecision. As he reached
the portico, Prince Calamis stepped purposefully out of a lighted doorway.


 Iolaus stopped abruptly, eyeing the Prince with suspicion. His first
thought was that Thanatos had talked and the men had reported it to
Calamis rather than Telegonus. 

 "Look," Calamis said briskly, just as Iolaus was trying to decide whether
to grab the guy as a hostage or just make a run for it. "To put it
bluntly, the Nemean court may not look like much, but I'm rich." 

 Oh great, this again. Caught between relief and irritation, Iolaus folded
his arms and regarded him skeptically. "How rich?" 

 "I've got three farms in Mycenae and a summer place in Argos." 

 "Yeah, well, he's a demigod." 

 The prince gave him a pitying smile. "Those kind of relationships never
work out." 

 "I'll take my chances." 

 Calamis sighed in annoyance, rolling his eyes. "Fine." As Iolaus walked
away he called, "I'm the last room in the main wing if you change your
mind!" 

 Iolaus rounded the corner and walked straight into Hercules. 

 "What was that?" Hercules asked, looking past Iolaus with a frown. 

 "Nothing," Iolaus said flatly. 

 Hercules shook his head, obviously dismissing it. "Look...let's go talk."


 "Yeah, let's." 

 Iolaus followed the demigod to the top of the stairs, to a chamber just
off the open gallery. 

 The room probably wasn't fancy enough for Calamis' taste, but it looked
fairly luxurious to Iolaus' eyes. One big bed piled with furs and
cushions, sheepskin rugs on the stone-flagged floor, brocaded
wall-hangings and bronze standing lamps. Hercules wandered over to the
round hearth where a fire already burned, and looked around vaguely, as if
gathering his thoughts. Iolaus couldn't take it another instant. He really
had to know where he stood, why this man was so interested in him. The
easiest way to do that was to go straight to the heart of the matter. 

 He took a deep breath and folded his arms. "All right, what do you want?"


 Hercules glanced at him and smiled wryly. "I want you to listen to me." 

 "No, I mean from me, tonight." Hercules still looked blank. Iolaus
clarified impatiently, "'Cause there's some things I won't do." 

 Before he could move on to specifics, he saw Hercules blink in startled
realization, then look embarrassed. The demigod said, "That's not what-- I
didn't mean--" He gestured around at the room and said earnestly, "That
isn't what this is about, that's not why I brought you here." 

 "It's not?" The sensation like he had just been sucker-punched in the gut
was wholly unexpected. Like the fear Iolaus had felt on the beach, it
seemed to come from someplace else, somewhere that wasn't him. 

 Emphatically, Hercules said, "No." 

 Iolaus stared at him, prey to a number of confusing emotions. It didn't
help that disappointment was the main one. Exasperation was there too.
Every time he thought he had things figured out to a reasonable degree,
everybody changed the rules. "Why?" he demanded, planting his hands on his
hips. "What's wrong with me?" 

 "Nothing!" 

 Iolaus swore, frustrated. "Then what do you want from me? Because that's
all I've got." 

 "That isn't all you've got," Hercules said, sounding aghast at the idea.
"You're a warrior. You were trained by Cheiron, you fought at Troy with
Achilles and Ajax, you sailed with Jason of the Argonauts--" 

 "Oh, not this again!" Iolaus turned away, trying to ignore the pictures
those names conjured in his head. He couldn't remember what the battlement
of Troy looked like; he was just imagining it. What threw him was that
Hercules really believed the things he had said earlier, he really did
think he knew Iolaus. The sincerity was impossible to mistake. Shaking his
head in disbelief, he said angrily, "You are out of your mind!" Oh, fine.
The great demigod hero everybody thinks is going to save them is nuts. 

 Hands on his shoulders gently turned him back around to face the other
man. Iolaus looked up at him, distractedly thinking, damn, he's big. 

 With a patient expression, Hercules said, "You're under a spell, that's
why you can't remember it. Do you know how you spent the last twenty
years?" 

 He shook his head mutely. It didn't help that the demigod was absently
rubbing the tense muscles under his hands in a way that was making Iolaus'
toes curl. 

 "You've been my partner, fighting at my side. Slaying monsters, fighting
warlords. Helping people." 

 Everything Iolaus knew said he should have spent those missing years in a
gang like Zeno's, as a bandit, or in some prison somewhere. Except....
Except I have all these pictures in my head and I don't know how they got
there. Troy. The Hesperides. Scylla and Charbydis. And he knew all this
strange stuff. Not just about fighting and weapons, either. But it
couldn't be true. He pulled away determinedly, stepping back. "No, that's
not me. Besides, if I'm such a big deal, why doesn't anybody here know who
I am?" 

 "We haven't spent much time in Nemea...." Hercules shook his head,
gesturing helplessly. "And you've just always had this weird luck where
you're never around when people say good things about you. King Trankus
knows you, we've helped him many times before, he asked about you--" 

 Iolaus snorted derisively. "Sure. Too bad he's not here to back you up." 

 "You have friends all over Greece, you have more girlfriends than I can
keep track of," Hercules persisted. "There's a lot of people who love
you." 

 "Stop that!" Iolaus pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead,
unable to stand it a heartbeat longer. "I'm not a hero, I'm not this guy
you think I am. I'm a criminal, I beat people up for money, I should be in
the stables chained to the next post down from Thanatos!" 

 "You're not a criminal!" 

 Hercules actually sounded angry, which just made Iolaus even angrier. He
glared up at the demigod. "Yes, I am!" 

 "No, you're not!" 

 "Fine. I'll prove it to you." Too mad to think straight, he just knew he
had to do something to show Hercules what he was. "I'm getting Zeno out of
here." Iolaus turned and yanked the door open. 

 "No, you're not!" 

 Iolaus bolted down the hall, Hercules pounding after him. Damn, he's
fast. But while Hercules was unusually agile for a man his size, Iolaus
was unusually agile for a man of any size. 

 Iolaus laughed as he whipped around the corner and Hercules skidded into
the wall. With a good lead on the demigod he tore down the stairs, leapt
down the last few steps and ran flat out. He was halfway to the stables
when something struck him from behind and slammed him into the
cobblestones. 

 He sprawled there, dazed; it was like he had been run over by a wagon
with a four horse team. He was rolled onto his back and found himself
blinking up at Hercules. 

 The demigod peered down at him to make sure Iolaus was still breathing.
Apparently satisfied, Hercules hauled him to his feet. 

 The world was tilting erratically but too mad to care, Iolaus took a wild
swing at him. Hercules ducked, so quickly he must have been expecting this
response. His shoulder thumped solidly into Iolaus' midsection, then the
demigod had him around the waist and was standing up. Iolaus grabbed
double-handfuls of the other man's leather vest instinctively, the
possibility that he was about to get smacked into the flagstones again
crossing his mind. But Hercules had him slung head down over his shoulder
and was turning back for the stairs. 

 This actually helped Iolaus, since the blood rushed to his head, clearing
the fog from it, and he didn't have to worry about keeping his balance.
His legs were pinned across the back of the knee with an arm like an iron
bar, but Iolaus doubled his fists and slammed them into Hercules' kidney.
The demigod made a definite "oof" sound and staggered. Encouraged, Iolaus
twisted, contracting his body, to jack-knife out of the man's hold. 

 Iolaus managed to wrench himself halfway down Hercules' back but the
demigod twisted and clapped an arm across his shoulders, pinning him
again. He said grimly, "You're not leaving here if I have to tie you to
that bed!" 

 "You had your chance!" Iolaus snarled. 

 The furious and awkward struggle was interrupted by a quiet voice.
"Hercules." It was General Telegonus, standing in the court, dressed in a
blue and gold bedrobe and watching them with a lifted brow. "Anything
wrong?" 

 They both froze. "Ah...no," Hercules said, managing to sound as if they
had just been interrupted while standing around discussing Plato. "Why do
you ask?" 

 "No reason." Telegonus nodded, apparently complacent. "Well, I'll be
saying good night." 

 "Good night." 

 A squeeze reminded Iolaus he was supposed to be in this conversation too
and he managed, "Good night." 

 The General hesitated, then turned back. "Oh, there is just one thing I
wanted to ask you about...." 

 "Yes?" Hercules sounded completely calm but Iolaus could read faint
desperation under the mild tone of his voice. 

 "One of the Nemean ringleaders -- Thanatos I think he's called. What a
name, hey?" Telegonus scratched his beard, shaking his head at the man's
presumption. "Anyway, it seems he told his guards that your friend there
was working with them extorting money from shopkeepers." 

 "Oh." Hercules thought that over a moment. "He was working undercover. So
we could find all the members of the gang." 

 Iolaus peered warily under Hercules' elbow, blew the hair out of his eyes
and added, "Yeah, that's it." 

 "Oh, of course!" Telegonus nodded equably, but Iolaus didn't trust the
guileless expression in his eyes. "That's cleared up then. Well, I'll let
you get back to.... Good night, then." 

 Hercules nodded to the General and started up the stairs. Iolaus fumed,
but didn't struggle, because Telegonus was probably still watching them --
who wouldn't, at this point? -- and if they fell over the bannister he
couldn't count on landing on top. When they reached the upper gallery he
said, nastily, "I thought heroes couldn't lie." 

 "Where'd you hear that," Hercules replied laconically. 

 Hercules kicked the door to their chamber open and dumped him on the
floor, doubling over as Iolaus twisted to catch him in the midriff with a
two-leg kick. The demigod stumbled back and Iolaus rolled to his feet.
Hercules caught his balance and grabbed for him. 

 Prepared this time, Iolaus caught Hercules' arm and shifted his weight,
using the demigod's own momentum to fling him over his head. Hercules
slammed into the bed, snapping off the bedpost. Shaking his head like a
stunned bull, the demigod shoved back to his feet and charged. 

 Iolaus forgot about running away. He knew how to use Hercules' strength
against him; what made it interesting was Hercules seemed to expect it, to
know these moves too. They slammed into walls, crashed into furniture.
Then Iolaus twisted out of a hold and Hercules overbalanced and they fell
across the bed, rolling. Iolaus knew it would all be over if he got pinned
down; he twisted out from under, kicked wildly and flung himself off the
other side. But he had gotten turned around in the struggle and went the
wrong way, slamming himself into the stone wall instead. He fell back and
Hercules grabbed his belt. 

 Dazed and winded, Iolaus clawed at the cushions, trying to reach the
broken bedpost for a weapon, but Hercules caught one flailing arm and
dragged him back. Iolaus rammed his head backward, catching him a hard
blow in the face. Turning around and pushing to his feet, Iolaus tried to
dive over him but Hercules grabbed him around the waist and fell forward.
Forcing Iolaus down on his back Hercules used his weight to flatten him to
the bed, pinning his legs so Iolaus didn't have the leverage to throw him
off again. 

 "Now look," Hercules said determinedly, breathing hard from the struggle,
"If you just listen to me-" 

 Aided by sweat-slickened skin Iolaus wrenched an arm free but maybe the
thigh pressing against his groin caused his brain to have a temporary
blackout. Whatever the reason, instead of doing something useful with the
free arm, he hooked it around Hercules' neck, pulled his head down and
pressed his mouth against his. 

 Hercules pulled back, startled, pushing himself up. Uh oh, Iolaus
thought, suddenly all too aware of what he had just done. Making a pass at
a guy during a fight who had already said he didn't want him wasn't a
great idea. Iolaus knew what his reaction would have been had someone like
Thanatos pulled that trick on him and bloody would have been the least of
it. With a strangled yelp he shoved Hercules back. As the demigod flailed
for balance Iolaus wrenched free, managing to roll over and scramble for
the edge of the bed. 

 He almost made it but Hercules caught him around the waist in a grip he
couldn't break, pulling him back against his chest. Expecting to have his
spine snapped, Iolaus fought like a trapped animal to pry that arm off.
But Hercules said into his ear, "It's okay." 

 Iolaus froze, breathing hard. 

 A hand slid into his hair, turning his head so Hercules could find his
mouth. 

 Iolaus remained frozen for a long heartbeat, then with a desperate gasp
he twisted in Hercules' grip, deepening the kiss until their teeth
scraped. They would have toppled off the side of the bed but Hercules
stopped them with one hand against the wall. Making an impatient noise in
his throat, Hercules pushed off, slid an arm between Iolaus' legs and
dumped him on his back. The swiftness of it surprised a yelp out of him,
but before he could start the fight all over, Hercules was on top of him,
pressing him down into the furs, sliding a hand up the back of his thigh
to grip a buttock and pull Iolaus more firmly against him. 

 Reassured, Iolaus buried his face in Hercules' neck, starting at the
collarbone since it was easy to go in either direction from there. Losing
himself in hot skin and hard muscle, he turned a kiss into a possessive
bite. He felt a tug on his hair and Hercules said firmly, "No biting." 

 "Whatever," Iolaus snarled, though the growl in his tone had more to do
with eagerness than anger. This felt right, and after days of being adrift
from a life he couldn't remember, he badly needed something that felt
right. He wriggled, trying to find a better position, and Hercules
murmured, "Like this," and shifted his weight just enough, as if they had
done this a hundred times. 

 Confused images flashed through Iolaus' mind: himself as a kid wrestling
with another boy in warm hay-filled barn, then a blond, motherly woman
throwing a bucket of water on them and saying they were too old to play
that way anymore. A dark-maned centaur -- a centaur? -- yelling at them to
stop that and get back to training. There were more images, flashes of
firelit nights, the deck of a ship under a star-filled sky, but he pushed
them away, frantically submerging himself in this moment. 

 "This turned into a very strange day," Hercules said thoughtfully at one
point. 

 "Tell me about it," Iolaus muttered. 

 *** 

 Wow, Iolaus thought, when he could think again. Even after witnessing the
man's strength, he hadn't really accepted the whole Son of Zeus thing
until now. It was still a little hard to believe, even lying here on top
of him with the Son of Zeus' hand on his ass. Just saying that was good
seemed woefully inadequate. 

 The demigod's sigh ruffled his hair. "Now do you think I'm telling you
the truth?" 

 Iolaus drew breath for an automatic "no" but stopped when he realized
that wasn't so anymore. He thought about it and said slowly, "I think you
think you are." 

 The other man's body started to shake. After a moment of consternation
Iolaus realized he was laughing. He rolled off and shoved himself away,
glaring at him. Still laughing, Hercules said, "You are so stubborn." 

 Iolaus sat up on his knees, seething. He started lacing up his pants
again, snarling, "This is not funny." 

 Hercules rolled over and pushed himself up on one elbow. "I know." With a
resigned sigh, he said, "Look, if you swear to me that you won't try to
free Zeno, you can walk out of here tonight. I won't try to stop you, I
won't tell the guards." 

 Iolaus, gathering himself to launch off the bed, paused. He eyed the
demigod warily. "Why?" 

 "Because you're my friend," Hercules said patiently. 

 Iolaus swore in frustration. "I never heard of you before that day on the
beach!" 

 Hercules sat up, pushing the hair out of his eyes. "You've lost your
memory, so how can you be sure of that?" 

 Iolaus shook his head helplessly. It was just obvious. He couldn't
understand why Hercules couldn't see it. He sat back on the bed, shoving
away a stray cushion. "I wouldn't know somebody like you, let alone...."
He made a vague gesture, meaning what they had just done, the whole life
the demigod had described. 

 Hercules frowned at him, managing to look offended. "Why? What's wrong
with me?" 

 "Nothing, that's the problem!" 

 Hercules snorted. "Well, that's not what you usually say." 

 "I don't know you!" 

 "Not right now," Hercules said, with all the patience of a solid stone
wall. "But I know you." 

 "You just think you do." Iolaus sat up straight, turning over that
thought. That has to be it. It was a lot more likely than all this stuff
about him being a hero. He said urgently, "I think you're the one who's
under a spell. You just think I'm this guy. Isn't that more likely?" 

 Irritatingly unimpressed by what Iolaus thought was a great theory,
Hercules shook his head. "No, that's not it. What would be the point of
it, anyway?" 

 Uh, to humiliate you in front of people like Telegonus and Calamis by
making it look like you're hanging around with a gang leader's enforcer?
Somehow he couldn't quite say that out loud, no matter how much he wanted
to convince Hercules. "But you're a demigod, things like this must happen
to you all the time. Why would somebody bother to put a spell on me?" 

 "It was a goddess who was trying to do you a favor. It just...." Hercules
shrugged helplessly. "Went very wrong." 

 Iolaus passed a hand over his face. A goddess who wanted to do him a
favor. Yeah, right. "Yes, I lost my memory," he admitted. "Yes, I know all
this stuff and I don't know how or where it came from, but.... I just
can't be this guy." 

 "Why not?" 

 "Because.... I just can't be. I'm not a hero, I'm not like that." 

 Hercules stared at him for a long moment. It might have looked as if he
was stymied, or giving up, but Iolaus knew he was just mentally sorting
through different strategies, trying to pick the best plan of attack. This
was confirmed when Hercules said, "Where do you want to go, anyway? Back
to Nemea? Zeno's gang is gone." 

 Iolaus slumped back against the pillows, folding his arms and looking
away. It wasn't pleasant being reminded that even if he managed to get out
of this he had nowhere to go. Damn Thanatos anyway for ruining everything.
Just to be provoking, he said, "I had an offer from Calamis." 

 Instead of any other reaction Iolaus might have expected, Hercules just
looked a little embarrassed again. "Uh...sorry about that." He pushed a
hand through his hair and shrugged, distracted. "They got the wrong idea
and I couldn't think of a way to explain without telling them the truth,
and I'm trying to avoid that." 

 Iolaus frowned. "Why? What's the truth?" 

 Hercules sighed, betraying faint exasperation. "This. This is the truth.
What I've been telling you." He shook his head. "It's not like...they
think. We're warriors, partners." 

 Iolaus absorbed that for a moment in silence. He was talking about
warrior-companions, like Achilles and Patroclus. Hero stuff again. He
looked away. That wasn't for people like him. It was just barely
believable that he would make an acceptable one-night stand for a demigod,
let alone that kind of equal relationship. 

 Eyeing him intently again, Hercules said, "You didn't answer my question.
Do you know what you're going to do now?" 

 Iolaus shrugged as if he didn't care, still looking away. "I can find a
new gang." 

 "I know you can, that's what I'm afraid of." Hercules leaned forward,
spreading his hands in appeal and saying urgently, "Why would you want to?
Don't you want something better?" 

 Iolaus rolled his eyes. It may have been because his early life was all
he could remember, but he could vividly picture his father's reaction to
hearing that his unwanted afterthought of a son would grow up into a hero
who would fight at a demigod's side. That is, his father's reaction once
somebody had reminded him which member of the pack of children Iolaus was.
"I'm not good for anything else." 

 Hercules snorted in exasperation. "That's your father talking." 

 Iolaus froze. He looked at Hercules, his throat tight with that
superstitious fear again. 

 Hercules watched him carefully, obviously sensing that he had struck a
nerve. "Where do you think you learned to fight like that? It wasn't in
the Lowacks gang." 

 Iolaus managed to say stiffly, "How'd you know about that?" 

 "Because I've known you all your life. You could do anything you want --
except farming, you might not want to try that again, you didn't like it
-- but anything else." Hercules gestured impatiently, indicating Zeno's
gang and everything that went with it. "This is beneath you." 

 Iolaus snorted derisively, but the words struck deep. He found himself
wishing they were for him, and not just the man this crazy demigod thought
he was. He said through gritted teeth, "I'm beneath you and we both know
it so just stop this. You're not convincing me of anything, no matter how
much you know about me or how you found it out!" 

 Hercules swore in frustration and slapped a hand on the bed frame. Iolaus
tensed to move, but Hercules only said, "It's this stupid spell. No matter
what I do or say to prove it to you, it's just not going to let you
believe me. So you're going to have to trust me until I think of a way to
get Fortune back here so she can break it." 

 Iolaus subsided, muttering, "And you called me stubborn." 

 Hercules watched him, his lips pressed together. Switching tactics again,
Iolaus thought wearily. Does the guy never give up? Finally, in a "let's
just be reasonable about this" tone, Hercules said, "Look, say I am crazy,
say I am the one with the spell on me and I just think you're my friend--"


 Iolaus punched the cushion and flopped back on the bed. "That's what I've
been saying!" 

 "--doesn't this sound like the kind of life you might want?" 

 Iolaus sighed, staring at the lions and stags fighting in the carved
pattern on the ceiling beams. He took the cushion and jammed it under his
head, and grudgingly admitted, "Maybe." He would have to be nuts not to
want it. 

 Hercules continued patiently, "So what do you have to lose by staying
with me for a couple of days until we break the spell?" 

 Iolaus rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. What did he have to
lose? Nothing, right now. But in a couple of days.... A couple of days to
get used to fighting at this man's side, to the idea that he somehow
belonged to this other life, this other world. To people listening to him
because of who he was with and what that meant. To the fringe benefits,
though it could take years to become accustomed to that. Then the spell
would be broken. And you'll just be an embarrassment to him. Of course,
he'll be nice about it. That'll make it worse. And he knew he couldn't say
any of this, and he knew Hercules wouldn't understand why he couldn't just
say sure, I've got nothing to lose. 

 He looked at Hercules to tell him he was leaving but the man was watching
him hopefully and for some reason the words just dried up in his throat.
He didn't want to argue anymore; he wanted to have sex again and then
sleep for a few days. This was the second time his life had gotten turned
upside down recently and it was getting a little hard to take. He said
instead, "So women like this hero thing?" 

 "They love it," Hercules assured him. 

 So he'll find out you're not who he thinks you are. Big deal, it can't be
worse than wandering around without a clue how you've spent the last
twenty years. "Yeah, whatever, I'll stay." For now, he added to himself.
For now. 

 Iolaus pulled off his boots, shoving them onto the floor, then rolled off
the bed. Pausing to shed vest, gauntlets, and to drop his already unlaced
pants, he sauntered over to a low table which had managed to survive the
fight. He knew Hercules was watching him, or at least he hoped he was. He
picked up the wineflask and poured a cup, managing to sneak a look through
his hair. Yeah, he was watching. With a challenging grin, Iolaus strolled
back. He downed the cup of wine, then plopped onto the bed, propping
himself up on one elbow. "So. You want to talk all night?" 

 Hercules eyed him, smiling faintly. "Not particularly." He sat up on his
knees, shedding shirt and vest, then reached out a long arm and caught
Iolaus by the ankle, pulling him onto his back. 

 Startled, Iolaus had to fight to keep his expression a cool challenge and
not reveal how much that easy strength actually turned him on. Then
Hercules took the cup out of his hand, tipped the dregs out onto Iolaus'
stomach, and leaned down to trace the rivulets with his tongue. Iolaus
sucked in a breath, and when Hercules expanded his explorations he grabbed
the demigod's shoulders. Part of him panicked and he thought, He's a
demigod, he shouldn't do that. What happens when the spell breaks and he
remembers he went down on a gangleader's enforcer? The panicky part wanted
him to say "stop" but his throat closed on the word. At least he would die
happy. 

 He dug his fingers into Hercules' shoulders, let his head fall back on
the nest of cushions. He wanted to thrust but Hercules held his hips down
effortlessly, one-handed. When Hercules slipped an arm under Iolaus' leg
to adjust his position, the sudden sensation of soft hair brushing against
his inner thigh almost sent Iolaus over the edge right there. He bit his
lip, hissed a breath, just managing to hold on. 

 When Hercules lifted his head Iolaus made a strangled noise of protest.
But the demigod leaned on one elbow, reaching down for a broken oil lamp
that had fallen near the bed. He brought his hand back almost immediately
and Iolaus caught the sweet scent of good olive oil. He swore with relief
when Hercules took him in his mouth again, then grabbed the carved wooden
bedstead behind his head when two fingers slipped inside him. For a moment
it was just an uncomfortable, unwelcome distraction, then he felt a deeper
push and a brush against something that sent a startling sensation through
him. It made his eyes roll back in his head and anything vaguely
resembling self-control shattered. He found himself pounding on the wall
behind him to keep from whimpering, and knew he couldn't last any longer.
He pushed Hercules with a knee and when the demigod lifted up, Iolaus
rolled onto his stomach and let himself go. 

 He blinked sweat out of his eyes as blood started to return to his brain
and saw Hercules lying beside him, propped on one elbow and wearing a smug
expression. Breathing hard, Iolaus twitched sweat-soaked hair out of his
eyes and told him, "That proves I was right. I would have remembered that,
spell or no spell." 

 Hercules snorted. "Who do you think I learned it from?" 

 Iolaus drew breath to argue but there wasn't really a comeback to that.
He was still struggling for a reply when Hercules shifted over on top of
him. Automatically, Iolaus let him nudge his legs apart, wriggling into a
more comfortable position, but he didn't really think about what was
happening until Hercules leaned forward into him. 

 Iolaus bit back a curse. He didn't remember doing this before. He knew
how, obviously, the same way he knew how to fight and ride and run a
successful gang, but he had no memory of actually doing it. Hercules, of
course, still believed they had done this practically all their lives, and
that was just...weird. Just don't embarrass yourself, he instructed
himself firmly. Warm weight pushed him down, settling firmly on his back
and buttocks though without crushing him. Iolaus shook his hair forward to
help hide his expression, digging his fingers into the soft mattress and
feeling intensely vulnerable in a way that went beyond being trapped on
his belly under a much larger man. 

 He knew he should relax, but some part of him still opted for panic.
Gritting his teeth, he managed not to fight but his body went taut, every
muscle tense as wire. Hercules murmured an apology for going too fast and
nuzzled the top of his head. Then a big hand slid under Iolaus' hip,
moving under him. Distracted, he took a deep breath and felt his tension
ease. 

 Then Hercules was moving inside him and then they were moving together. 

 *** 

 The few lamps that were still lit burned low, and they split the rest of
the wine. Iolaus was propped up on the cushions, a flask of good wine
cradled against his chest and a naked demigod stretched out beside him,
all planes and angles and golden in the firelight. It should have been
ideal, but Iolaus had realized what he was really doing here. You're
hoping if you're good enough, he'll keep you. He grimaced uncomfortably,
knowing it was true. After the spell breaks, and he realizes you're not
this friend of his, and he sees you for what you are, maybe he'll still
want you around. He wasn't sure why it felt so wrong now. That was the
idea from the beginning, wasn't it? Sleep with him so he won't send you to
prison with the others? But that had been before he had learned what
Hercules thought he was, this whole warrior-companion thing. 

 It was useless. A man like Hercules would never keep him around just
because he was an entertaining bed warmer. His only hope was that the
spell took a few days to break, that he might have a chance to prove
himself in battle before-- He snorted, rolling his eyes at his own folly.
And you are determined to make this harder on yourself than it already is.
Being Skouros' son had taught him that you could prove yourself a hundred
times and it never changed anything; there was nothing wrong with that
part of his memory. 

 "What's the matter?" Hercules had shifted onto his side to face him, a
faint worried line between his brows. 

 Iolaus hid his face in the mouth of the wine-flask. "Nothing." 

 *** 

 Iolaus woke slowly, feeling warm and comfortable and extremely reluctant
to move. He rolled over with a moan, burying his face in the pillow. He
felt like he had just spent a week at the festival of Dionysus, but
without the hangover. Or had had one very protracted wrestling bout with a
demigod. 

 Iolaus twisted around and sat bolt upright. He was alone in the bed and
gray daylight was leaking in under the door. 

 Muttering curses under his breath, he ran his hands through his hair and
rested his elbows on his knees, trying to get his thoughts together. He
had meant to leave quietly at some point before morning, thinking it would
just be easier that way. But somehow that hadn't happened. There hadn't
been any particular reason for it. They hadn't said much the rest of the
night, except of the "ow, you're on my hair" variety, and he couldn't
remember making a conscious decision not to go. He had just put off the
moment again and again, until it was too late. I knew I was going to
regret this, he thought. 

 Suddenly feeling vulnerable, he threw the furs back and scrambled out of
the bed, looking for his scattered clothes. Somebody had left a jug and
water basin on the only intact table and he hurriedly sluiced himself off.
Not that it did much good. But the lamps had held a very high grade of
olive oil, so at least he didn't smell cheap. Locating his pants under a
pile of discarded cushions, he dressed rapidly and then plopped down on
the floor to get his boots on, since he had smashed the only bench over
Hercules' head sometime during the fight. 

 Wrestling on his second boot, he flinched violently as the door opened.
It was Hercules, casually ambling in as if this was a perfectly ordinary
morning. He said, "Good, you're up. The others are almost ready to go."
The demigod glanced around the room thoughtfully. "They'll be surprised to
see you. After all the noise last night...I think they think you're dead."


 "Oh." Iolaus looked around blankly, focussing on the smashed furniture.
"We broke up the room." 

 "Calamis can afford it," Hercules said, not sounding the least bit sorry
that the Nemean prince would be stuck with the bill. Then the demigod
looked at him closely and somehow seemed to read his agitation and
uncertainty as easily as if Iolaus had spoken it aloud. Hercules sat on
his heels, regarding him seriously. He didn't smell cheap either. "I know
this is hard, but if you can just trust me, just for a while. I promise
you everything will be all right." 

 Iolaus stared at him. He was being a fool, but it was hard not to
believe. Trust him, he thought. Funny how he hadn't worried about that
through the whole night of rolling around in bed with him. As if he was
somehow certain that Hercules could turn that god-given strength off and
on at will, that there was no reflex that could make him hurt someone by
accident. Was it really so different, so much harder, to trust him in
this? Yeah, it is. But somehow he had to try. Iolaus looked away, taking a
sharp breath. "All right." 

 *** 

 "It was Fortune's responsibility, not yours," Hercules pointed out,
again. 

 "Fortune didn't drop her," Iolaus countered, again. 

 Well-meaning or not, Hercules knew where he would have liked to drop
Fortune. It was late afternoon and they were leaving Nemea under an
overcast sky, walking along the forest road that led to Thrace. Fortune
had managed to restore Iolaus' memory without causing further damage, but
it had still left him with all the remembered pain of the accident that
had set all this in motion. By now Iolaus should have dealt with the shock
of the woman's death, at least to a certain extent, but the loss of his
memory had left him right back where he started days ago. But at least he
hadn't said anything about still wanting to give up his life as a hero and
Hercules wasn't going to bring it up. 

 Iolaus walked along, lost in thought. He could still remember that night
at the lodge and how much he had wanted this life, how the idea of being
Hercules' warrior-partner had seemed like an unattainable dream that was
all too likely to be snatched away if he even ventured close to it. He
still wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing; he could still see the
look on that woman's face as she fell. But maybe by leaving he hadn't been
trying to protect innocent bystanders from the consequences of his
inadequacy. Maybe he had been trying to protect himself from the pain of
failure. 

 He sighed, shaking his head. Whatever it was, he knew he couldn't give
this life up again. He had learned his lesson on that score; the feeling
of being adrift, with no purpose, no one to go home to, unneeded and
unwanted, was something he would remember for a long time. 

 Though it was good to know that if he had it to do all over again, to
make those choices again, he would. He glanced up in time to catch
Hercules eyeing him worriedly. He grinned to show he was all right and
said, "So, was I really like that when I was fifteen?" 

 "No." Reassured, Hercules assumed a reminiscent expression. "You were
slower, easier to catch." 

 "Oh, thanks." 

 end 

  
   
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