Title: A Single Step

Author: Marie Katz

Warnings: I've never seen an episode of Young Hercules, so if your enjoyment of this will depend on these characters resembling those, now's the time to bail. Also, underage boys have sex with other underage boys in this story. The scoundrels.

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: H/I, I/J

Archive: I'd be amazed and happy if someone did.

Summary: A first-time story during Hercules and Iolaus' academy days.

Disclaimer: Don't own these characters. Definitely won't make any money. No copyright infringement intended.

Feedback: You bet! All comments, both kind and critical, gratefully accepted.

Note: Thanks to April and Rhonda for reading this and making such helpful suggestions. Such good editors and friends!


A Single Step
by Marie Katz

"Hercules?"

The young demigod was watching a red-footed falcon wheel and dive in the deserted courtyard outside the classroom window. He'd seen Kleio moving her children across that wide open space earlier in the morning. He hoped the falcon wasn't after any of the tiny barn kittens.

"Hercules!" The strong voice broke the silence.

He reluctantly turned his attention back to the centaur at the front of the room. They were reviewing the Milesian philosophers. Gods, wouldn't this class ever end?

"I'm sorry. Could you repeat the question?" he finally asked. He heard Iolaus snicker softly from the row behind him.

"Air, Hercules." Cheiron caught sight of the graceful bird that had commanded the boy's rapt attention, and his stern expression softened. "Which of the Ionians propounded air as the primary substance?"

Hercules groaned inwardly. Anaximander or Anaximedes? He couldn't keep them straight. Who really cared anyway? That was an easy one. Cheiron cared. That was all that mattered. If he thought you weren't reading the assignments, he'd pull you out of arms practice and make you write essays. Oh well, he had a fifty-fifty chance. Hercules tossed an imaginary coin.

"Anaximedes?"

"Yes. Good." Cheiron's tail switched in frustration. Admittedly it was a fine, sunny day outside. Five more minutes and he'd let the little heathens go.

Hercules felt a small parchment missile hit him in the back of the neck. He glared over his shoulder at Iolaus. The cocky blond mouthed the word "show-off" at him, then grinned and winked.

Hercules rolled his eyes and turned back to the front, blushing. He studied the top of the desk miserably, thinking about the strange, jittery sensation he'd been getting in his stomach when Iolaus smiled at him. It made him nervous and irritable. He didn't want to feel this way anymore. Iolaus was his best friend, and it was messing everything up.

"Leucippus of Miletus had a famous disciple. Can anyone name him?"
They'd always touched each other. Why was it different now? They didn't mean anything by it. They were always grabbing each other or throwing an arm around the other's shoulders. Or wrestling. Hercules shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench, his body remembering.

They'd been practicing with quarterstaffs like they did every week. Iolaus had landed a lucky, well-placed hit and knocked him off his feet. He'd lain there on the ground, playing possum, trying to get Iolaus to let his guard down. Iolaus had circled him warily a few times, poking him gently with the padded staff, but he hadn't moved. "Herc?" He'd finally set his staff down and knelt beside his friend. "Herc, you okay?"

Hercules had grabbed him by the vest and tossed him onto the ground, then dived on top of him, pinning him. "Ha!" he'd crowed. "I can't believe you fell for that! What a moron!"

Everything had been fine. But then the feeling of Iolaus underneath him, laughing and swearing and struggling in his arms, had overwhelmed him, had made him hard and breathless. He'd wanted to. . . it didn't matter what he'd wanted, he thought shaking his head in frustration. Iolaus had half the girls from the surrounding countryside giggling at him and baking sweetcakes for him and asking him to go on picnics with them.

And probably doing anything else he wants them to, he thought glumly.

And when it's not Roxanne or Apollonia, it's Jason, he thought, jaw clenching. They were always trading little looks, and they'd begun to sneak off together, reappearing later looking disheveled and smug. Did they think people were stupid or something?

He didn't understand why it made him so mad. They were his friends. If they wanted to do stuff like that, what business was it of his? None. It was none of his business.

It made him want to hit something. Really, really hard.

Gods. This totally sucks.

He watched as the little kids marched across the courtyard from their classroom to the dining hall.
Must be almost lunch time. He was starving. He'd overslept and missed breakfast.

"Democritus was also a student of the Pythagoreans, whom we'll be discussing tomorrow."

He'd lain awake half the night last night watching Iolaus sleep. He'd been so hard he'd hurt, wanting to touch his friend, frantic to touch himself. He knew some of the guys did. You could hear it late at night sometimes when everyone was asleep: the rustling of the sheet, the heavy breathing, then the gasp or groan when it was over. Or maybe he was the only one who could hear it. He wasn't sure if his hearing was better than everyone else's.

He couldn't bring himself to do that, not in the dorm with everybody else there. He was pretty sure Iolaus didn't. Their beds were right next to each other's.

"And what did Democritus call this smallest element? Yes, Learchos?"

"Iolaus? He's the smallest element around here."

This got a big laugh from Learchos and his cronies. Hercules hated the bunch of them. They were bullies and snobs, and they'd ridden Iolaus unmercifully ever since he'd gotten here. He was about ready to pound them.

Iolaus waited until the laughter died down, and everybody was looking at him.

"Except where it counts," he smirked. "Oh, I'm sorry, Learchos! I'll bet you're sensitive about that, aren't you?"

The back of the room erupted in laughter and catcalls. Even Cheiron was hard-pressed not to smile. Iolaus would pay for it later, he thought, observing Learchos' calculating glare, but you had to admire the reckless blonde's feistiness.

"That's enough!" he announced, raising his voice over the din. "Class is dismissed! There'll be a test tomorrow over the Pythagoreans! Iolaus, stay for a moment, please."

***

"So, Cheiron's bent out of shape because I flunked the last two tests, and I was supposed to turn in a make-up assignment today, but I forgot to do it, so I talked him into giving me an extra day. Now, what's it gonna cost me?" Iolaus grinned. He was sitting, arms folded across his chest, with his back against a tree trunk. Jason was no Socrates, but he was smart enough to be passing, and that was good enough for Iolaus.

"Hmm. Let's see." Jason frowned, pretending to think about it. He was sitting at Iolaus' feet, unlacing the schemer's boots. This clearing was their favorite trysting spot--not far from the academy, but a difficult climb. They met here almost daily.

He pulled the boots off, then slowly pulled Iolaus down on his back and crawled up over him. "You know what I want," he accused, laughing softly and kissing Iolaus' throat.

"Oh, as if!" Iolaus' voice was scornful. "How about I just suck you off instead?" He reached down between them to fondle Jason's hard cock through his pants. Jason grunted softly and began to thrust against him but pulled back. He wanted more than just a grope through leather.

"We do that every day anyway," he complained, but only half-heartedly, since Iolaus was unbuttoning the tight pants, and the feeling of his knuckles rubbing against his cock was so delicious. He leaned in and tried to kiss him, but the irritating blonde dodged him.

"Oh. And you're bored," Iolaus commiserated sarcastically. "I'm so sorry." He squeezed Jason's
shaft hard as he pushed the leather down over his friend's hips. He continued to milk it as he worked on his own pants.

"Iolaus," Jason cajoled, his voice soft in Iolaus' ear. "C'mon. If I have to write a 500 word essay for you by tomorrow, I think I deserve more than just a regular old blowjob, don't you? You know I won't hurt you," he whispered, nuzzling the soft skin of Iolaus' throat.

Iolaus had expected to do his laundry for a month, or clean his room or something. He hadn't expected Jason to start hassling him over something he knew Iolaus really didn't want to do. He shoved the larger boy off him, sending him sprawling.

"Don't start this shit again, Jase! You're really starting to piss me off!" he snarled. Jason just lay
there, half naked, gaping at him. Iolaus snatched up his vest and boots and started down the hillside. Jason scrambled for him and caught him by an ankle.

"Iolaus, wait! C'mon, don't go! I'm sorry!"

"You're not sorry!" Iolaus tried to kick him, but Jason had too firm a grip on him. "You just wanna get off!"

"Well, yeah!" Jason said in the same tone he'd have used if Iolaus had stated that water was wet or fire was hot. Iolaus wanted to stay angry, but it made him laugh. He dropped to his knees and straddled Jason's lap.

"Well then it's just a damned lucky thing for you that I do too, isn't it?" he giggled. Jason reached for Iolaus' waist, drawing him up onto his knees to slide the pants down and over his erection. Iolaus threaded his fingers through the dark, cropped hair.

"Suck me," he demanded.

Jason lowered him gently to the ground and finished removing his clothes, until Iolaus was lying naked in the grass in front of him. Jason had thought he couldn't get any harder, but seeing Iolaus lying there watching him, fingers teasing the golden curls at the base of his cock, smiling that little, seductive smile he got when he knew he had you where he wanted you, was pushing him right up to the edge. Did the little demon have any idea?

"So?" Iolaus grinned, never taking his eyes off him. "The sooner I get sucked, the sooner you get sucked! What are we waiting on?"

Jason laughed and shook his head. He grasped Iolaus' hard shaft and bent to lick the dark, velvety head of it, then sucked it deep into his throat, tonguing the underside. He craved the soft, yearning sounds Iolaus made.

Iolaus rolled them over on their sides and wriggled down until he could take Jason's hardness into his own mouth. He cupped his heavy balls in his hand and rolled them gently, smiling as Jason moaned around his cock. It was a difficult equilibrium to maintain, this simultaneous giving and receiving of pleasure, but it was the one area of study that had always held Iolaus' undivided attention, and he'd learned how to spur Jason on and drive him higher, ratcheting the tension
up and up between them They were sweaty and trembling and clutching each other when Iolaus' orgasm finally overtook him. He lifted his head from Jason's cock, gasping and arching as he shot into Jason's willing mouth, and Jason emptied stream after stream of his own load across Iolaus' face and neck and chest.

Jason collapsed over onto his back, chest heaving. Iolaus wiped his face off with the backs of his hands, then lay with a cheek pillowed on Jason's hard thigh and waited for the world to come back into focus. They fell asleep like that for a little while. When Jason woke, he pulled Iolaus up to him, holding him in the crook of his arm. He would never have admitted it, but this was his favorite part, when Iolaus was soft and pliant and drowsy, content to lie with his head on his chest and just be with him, instead of arguing and scheming and talking about Hercules.

"You know what?" he whispered, nuzzling Iolaus' ear.

"Hmmm?"

"When I leave at the end of this year?"

"Yeah?" Iolaus' voice was soft and sleepy.

"Well, maybe you oughta come with me."

Iolaus hoisted himself up on his elbows and looked down at him. "And do what?" he snorted.

"Whatever you want," Jason muttered. Didn't Iolaus get it? He was going to be a king. He could make anything happen for Iolaus that he wanted. He drew the blonde head back down to his shoulder.

"You've said you don't like it here. You wouldn't have to study all these things you don't like anymore. If there's stuff you want to learn about fighting, I'll have an arms master that can teach you.

"What are you going to do when you get out of here? You're not actually gonna just tag around after Hercules your entire life. What would the two of you do? How would you live? You'll just end up being mercenaries or something. It's a hard life."

Jason rolled over so that they were lying face to face.

"Look . . . Iolaus . . . you're my friend. I'm gonna need a friend when I go back there. Somebody I can trust.

"It'll be great. You'll love it. We can hunt and fish as much as we want. There's all kinds of pretty girls at court that'll be crawling all over you. And we won't have to sneak off to the woods to do this." He searched Iolaus' eyes for some hint of his reaction. "Just . . . think about it, okay?"

Iolaus didn't know what to say, so for once he didn't say anything. This was something he hadn't considered. A person could do worse than hanging out with the ruler of one of the most prosperous kingdoms in Greece. It was a fantasy he could get into: his own rooms at the palace with plenty of great stuff, all the food and wine he wanted, he'd never have to clean anything up himself-there'd be maids-really cute maids, he could sleep in 'til noon and then get up and go fighting or hunting or fishing. This could be seriously cool.

So what was bothering him about it? Oh yeah. No Herc. Jason hadn't included him in this scenario, but even if he had, Iolaus couldn't see his friend lounging around in Corinth content to be somebody's courtier. Or catamite for that matter. That's how Herc would see it.

Jason was a good guy. Iolaus liked him a lot. It was a good offer for someone like him. What did it matter if Herc approved or not?

"Iolaus, I'll miss you," Jason finally whispered.

It was the one thing that did matter.

"Yeah, Jase. Me too," he said softly. "But hey! We'll come visit you." The blue eyes were apologetic. "The three of us will always be pals, right?"

Jason slowly sat up. He picked up a boot and turned it over a few times, staring at it. He relaced it, then handed it to Iolaus. "Yeah," he sighed, shrugging. "We will."

***

"Where've you been?" Hercules asked, falling in beside a glum Iolaus. "You missed math!"

"I did?" Iolaus perked up at the thought.

"Yes. Where were you?"

"Nowhere. Just messing around. What are you, my babysitter?" Iolaus seemed distracted. He sat down on the ground in the shade of the outer wall, pulled out a whetstone, spit on it, and started sharpening his knife.

Hercules leaned against the wall and frowned up at the sky.

"So. What did Cheiron want this morning?" he asked.

"To tell me what a fuckup I am, what else?" Iolaus muttered.

"What happened?"

"I was supposed to have this report done on Pythagoras to hand in today, but I forgot to do it. He said if I don't have it by tomorrow he'll have to 'reconsider whether my continuing on here is really the best use of my time.'"

Hercules stared down at him, alarmed.

"Jase was going to write it for me, but now he's mad at me."

Hercules' heart leapt a bit at that. "Why's Jase mad at you?"

"It doesn't matter! He just is!"

"Well, you shouldn't be having him write the report anyway! It's cheating. Cheiron would kick you out for sure!"

Iolaus glared at him and rolled his eyes. "Well after tomorrow it won't matter. I don't care anyway. I only came here to learn how to fight and ride. This place sucks!"

"No it doesn't," Hercules soothed him. "You don't mean that." He slid down the wall to sit beside his friend. "Iolaus you can do this stuff if you'll just try. You're smart."

Iolaus giggled and punched him in the side with his elbow. "Yeah, right!"

"Well, you're as smart as Jase," Hercules grinned.
"Doto's as smart as Jase!" Doto was one of the milk goats. Iolaus stroked the knife along the edge of the stone one last time, then set them down abruptly.

"I do try, Herc. I really do. I just can't make all that stuff stay in my head. Who cares what the area of a triangle is, or which old dead guy said what?" Iolaus was gnawing on a thumbnail, one knee bouncing up and down in the dirt. Iolaus always thrummed with a barely-controlled energy, like an arrow that's nocked and ready to fly.

"That's because you won't sit still! You shake it all back out before it has a chance to stick!" Hercules pounced on him, laughing and trying to hold him down. He threw one leg over Iolaus' and grabbed both his hands in one of his. Iolaus didn't fight back as he'd expected. He just lay there under him, looking up into his eyes.

His eyes are so blue, Hercules marveled. They were asking him something.

Time seemed to be screwed up somehow. Everything was moving so slowly. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd released Iolaus' hands, but they were under his shirt now, around his back, holding him. It felt very safe. It seemed like they were falling toward each other, but he was kind of dizzy, so he wasn't sure. Probablybecause he couldn't seem to breathe. Maybe, in a second, when their lips finally met, Iolaus would breathe for him.

He never had the chance to find out. The dinner bell rang, and suddenly the courtyard was full of people racing toward the dining hall, laughing and shouting. He felt like he'd been jerked up out of a deep, dreaming sleep. He managed to push himself away from his friend and actually stand upright, but he didn't seem to be too steady. He dusted himself off, looking anywhere but at Iolaus, so he didn't get to see Iolaus' dazzling smile as he watched the bigger boy stumble off in the direction of the bath house. Iolaus sat there for a minute or two longer, ignoring the noisy crowd, thinking about his friend and thinking about the future.

Iolaus finally stood up and looked around himself, hands on his hips, bouncing gently up and down on the balls of his feet. Just where in Tartarus was the library, anyway?

***

Trouble in paradise, Cheiron mused, eyeing the familiar triangle across the dining hall. The future
king of Corinth was sulking, casting wounded glances across the dinner table at the blonde curls that were bent over the evening meal. Foolish boy, he thought. Perhaps the experience would help the young prince make wiser choices of the heart in the future. A willingness to learn from one's mistakes and a goodly amount of self-control were necessary to be a good governor. He wished he could believe that Jason would acquire these attributes.

His eyes drifted across the table to Hercules. The younger boy was sitting by Iolaus' side as usual. What was unusual was the space between them. They were normally joined at the hip. Hercules seemed oddly subdued, his head also bent over his dinner plate. Cheiron noticed that he cast soulful, sidelong glances in Iolaus' direction from time to time.

He liked Hercules. He was a well-mannered boy, who didn't cause much trouble on his own. He was kind to the animals at the academy, making sure they got fed and watered if another student forgot, and he quietly looked out for the younger children, protecting them from the meaner boys. He seemed older than his age, perhaps the result of an overprotective mother and the tendency he had to hold himself apart from the other students. Cheiron himself had found the boy hard to get to know-polite and friendly when approached, but guarded. Iolaus was good for him, drawing him out and pushing him to socialize. Each was an outcast in his own way: Hercules because of his questionable parentage, Iolaus because of his recent scrapes with the law in Athens. But Iolaus wouldn't back down to anyone, and he was helping Hercules to develop more self-confidence as well.

Cheiron eyed the beautiful blonde boy affectionately. Methodically plowing through a second plate of rabbit stew, his favorite troublemaker seemed oblivious to the emotional havoc he was wreaking on his two friends. Stubborn and willful and cocky. That was Iolaus. Cheiron believed the child had a good heart under the posturing. The question was what kind of man he would become. If he didn't learn to channel all that energy into something constructive, it would be his ruin.

Perhaps the dutiful Hercules was beginning to exert a positive influence on him in return. He smiled, thinking about the scroll on Pythagoras that Iolaus had turned in that morning. It had surprised him. Oh the report itself was atrocious: nothing even close to the 500 words assigned, the grammar appalling, the factualness suspect (when questioned, Iolaus had admitted he'd added the part about the philosopher battling monsters just to make it interesting), the last two pages so hurriedly written they were indecipherable. None of that particularly mattered to Cheiron. He didn't expect Iolaus to become a scholar. He just wanted the boy to learn to set goals and strive for them, to develop some self-discipline. He had doubted that Iolaus would attempt the assignment at all.

His eyes made one final circuit of the three of them, and he snorted, turning his attention at last to his own meal. Gods deliver him from young humans in love.

***

The barn door was ajar, just far enough that Iolaus could slip inside without moving it. He stood utterly still for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer light after the full moon outside. The barn felt warm and safe. It smelled of hay and dust and horses, and the sharp scent of the oil the students used to keep the leather riding gear from cracking. He listened for any sound from his friend, but all he could hear was the gentle snuffling of the horses and the wind sighing through the loft.

He had come back to the dormitory after taking a bath to find Hercules already in bed. Iolaus had quietly undressed and pulled on the drawstring pants he wore at night. He'd lain awake for a long time, listening to the whispering and quiet laughter from the other boys and to Hercules tossing and turning and punching his pillow. The dorm had slowly grown quiet as its inhabitants fell asleep, but Herc continued to fidget. When he finally got up and sneaked out of the long, dark room, Iolaus had followed him at a distance.

Iolaus could move as soundlessly as a rabbit when he wanted to. He walked slowly down the barn's wide center aisle without disturbing the sleeping animals. The last two stalls on the right were empty, illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the large window that had been left open. Hercules must be in one of them. Or maybe up in the loft. Iolaus glanced up and listened for some movement or tell-tale creak, then moved on.

Hercules was in the last stall, kneeling, his back to the rest of the barn. Iolaus couldn't see what he was doing, but he knew of course-knew from the lines of Herc's body as he curled around his need, from the tension in his back and shoulders, from the way his trapezius muscle bunched and relaxed as his hand moved. Knew the way he knew all the things that Herc felt-when he was sad, or hurt or afraid-just like Hercules knew him.

Iolaus smiled. It felt like he'd waited forever for Herc to be ready for this. He'd been really patient. He knew from experience how mean people could be to you and how careless, especially when you didn't really know what you were doing. He never wanted anybody to make his friend feel like that.

So he'd waited and watched and joked and flirted, until he'd just about decided that Herc wasn't ever going to catch on, that maybe he was only going to like girls. Until yesterday when he'd let Hercules pin him and felt his friend grow hard against him and looked up into eyes so dark he'd thought he could fall right into them. That's when he'd known for sure.

It seemed wrong for Herc to look so alone, sneaking this solitary release, when Iolaus wanted so much to be with him. He pulled at the drawstring in his pants and let them slide over his hips and down onto the ground. He slipped silently into the stall and knelt in the hay behind him, gently touching his arm. Hercules started violently.

"Gods, Iolaus! What are you doing here?" he demanded, glaring back at his friend and blushing furiously.

"Watching you," Iolaus murmured. He chuckled softly, a sound meant to reassure. "I thought you said you didn't do this."

Hercules groaned, turning away again. "Just give me a break, wouldja?" He seemed very vulnerable to Iolaus at that moment. "I didn't want to admit it to you," he muttered.

"Herc, you worry too much!" Iolaus slid his hand slowly up Hercules' arm and rested it on his shoulder. "Everybody does it. Why wouldn't they? It feels so good." He peered over Hercules' shoulder, their cheeks almost touching, trying to get a better look. "Doesn't it?" He let his own hardness brush against his friend's hip.

"Yeah," Hercules whispered, looking back at him, blue eyes searching his.

Iolaus was encouraged by this. "Know what feels even better?" he breathed against Hercules' ear, pressing closer.

"What?" Hercules squeaked, shivering.

"Somebody else doing it for you," Iolaus whispered. His hand slid around the curve of Hercules' shoulder, drifted slowly down across a puckered nipple, and stopped at Hercules' ribs, waiting. Hercules glanced back at him again, eyes dark and deep, lips parted. Then he slowly relaxed against Iolaus, who smiled against his neck and pulled him close into a hug. He slipped his hand lower, across Herc's flat belly, and grasped his cock. He stroked it slowly, exulting in the length and thickness of it and in the small hungry sounds he was wringing from his friend. They were
setting him on fire.

He pulled Hercules even closer to him, so that his own cock was trapped more tightly between them and began to move against him in time to the rhythm of his strokes.

"No," Hercules whispered, pulling away from him. "No."

Iolaus caught his lower lip between his teeth. He was desperately disappointed but determined not to show it. "It's okay," he soothed.

Hercules turned to face him. "I want us both to do this," he whispered, pulling Iolaus close to him
again. "Together."
"Oh, okay," Iolaus laughed softly up at him. "That would be good."

Hercules grasped them both together in his fist and brought Iolaus' hand down to wrap around his. Then he threaded his other hand through Iolaus soft curls and finished the kiss he'd started days ago on the practice field.

Oh yeah, was Iolaus' last coherent thought. This is definitely good.

The feeling of their cocks rubbing against each other and their hands moving together over each other and Hercules' breathing harsh and labored against his ear was too much for Iolaus, and he arched and stiffened, making soft, pleading sounds as his release swept through him. Hercules held him tight and watched through slitted eyes as the pearly liquid coated their hands and bellies.

You're so beautiful, Hercules thought. He'd never dreamed Iolaus would be so beautiful. You're mine now, he decided, hoping Iolaus could hear him.

Then Iolaus was pleasuring him again, and all he could think about was making this exquisite torture stop. Or making it go on and on. Iolaus' hands were steadily squeezing and stroking him, lightly feathering over the balls that were tight against his cock now, and it felt so good that he couldn't breathe.

"It's okay. I've got you," Iolaus whispered to him as Herc's body was wracked with his own orgasm. Iolaus slipped an arm around his waist and held him while he teased the last of his semen from him. Then he gathered him up and lay down with him in the fresh hay, Herc's head on his chest, and carded through the thick, honey-colored hair.

Hercules was happy just to lie and listen to Iolaus' heartbeat. He was starting to doze when Iolaus tugged gently at his hair. "It's time we got back. We'll fall asleep here."

Hercules groaned, but got to his feet and hauled Iolaus up beside him. Iolaus shimmied into his pants, then found Hercules' and handed them to him.

They headed reluctantly toward the barn door, arms brushing against each other. Hercules stopped at the door, blocking Iolaus' exit and leaned down for one last kiss.

"Tell you what," Iolaus murmured huskily when they broke apart. "Meet me in the storage shed after lunch tomorrow, and I'll show you something you'll like even better."

A grin tugged at Hercules' mouth, but he frowned and shook his head. "Iolaus! You just got back in Cheiron's good graces. You can't be skipping class all the time!"

Iolaus threw his hands up in disgust and moved toward the door. Hercules caught him by the waist and pulled him close. The grin won out. "Why don't I meet in you in the storage shed after dinner tomorrow night?"

Iolaus glared at him for a moment, then smiled. "It's just a good thing for you that you've got me," he proclaimed.

Hercules' grin just kept getting wider. "Yeah? Why's that?"

"'Cause you'd bore yourself to death if I wasn't here!"

"Would not!"

"Would so!"

Hercules pulled the barn door shut behind them.



END