Title: Graveyard Shift

Author: Scribe

Fandom: Xena: Warrior Princess

Pairing: Sorry, no sex. :)

Status: Finished

Sequel/Series: Answer to Christine's AJCS 'put the guys in your own environment' challenge.

Archive: Sure, but tell me where.

Disclaimer: The guys aren't mine.

Summary: The guys and other Xenites transferred to modern Southeast Texas, my home town of Groves, to be exact. Just hanging out at the convenience store I spent two hellish years at. Guess who the clerk is.

Warnings: This is a slice of life story. No real plot, no sex (sorry). Self insertion, but I try not
to be annoying about it.

Notes: This takes place in one of my former places of employment on the Gulf Coast, about two hours from both Galveston and Houston, and about the same distance from the Louisianna border. I'm gonna try to do a Cajun accent in this, so bear with me. 'The boats' refers to the floating casinos in Lake Charles. Cher is pronounced 'sha'.

Rating: R

Graveyard Shift
By Scribe

It was deep, dark, past mid-night on a typically sweltering night in Groves, Texas. Florescent lights buzzed over the deserted lot of the only 24 hour convenience store in town, situated across the street from the Fina Refinery. A lanky figure walked out of the trailer park across the side street and made its way to the entrance of the store. In the air-condition chilled interior, the woman in the red smock bending over the plastic crate filled with a jumble of merchandise, looked up with a wince as the electronic buzzer on the front door sounded. Her expression smoothed out when she saw who it was. "Hey, Joxer!"

The tall, thin young man dressed in jeans, work boots, a Budweisser t-shirt, and a John Deere gimme cap gave her an engagingly goofy grin as he eased the door shut. "Hey, Mo. They got you workin' graveyards again?"

She shrugged. "All the time. I prefer them, though. I have to do a lot of the grunt work, but the traffic is slower."

He ambled over. "So you can spend time talking to loafers like me?"

She laughed. "You're one of my best customers, and you know it. What can I do for you?"

"Nothing right now. Ares is s'posed to meet me here. He's got to take his nephew back to Louisianna for the weekend, and we figured we'd drop by the boats."

"Cool. If I give you a couple of bucks of nickles would you run them through the slots for me? Maybe you'll have better luck than I ever do. Scuse me if I work while we talk. They want this stuff up by morning."

Joxer went to the counter on the other side of the store that held a bank of coffee makers, beverage dispensers, snack cakes, and a hot dog roaster. He studied the flavors available in the Slushie machine and opted for Blue Raspberry. "They work you too hard, darlin. They ought to hire a man to do the heavy work."

"Now why should they do that when they have a perfectly good peon like me?"

He came back and sat in one of the three tiny booths along the front wall, slurping his drink as he watched her price canned goods and candy bars. She said, "Why is Strife going back to Louisianna? I thought Ares had custody?"

"He does, but Strife's mama is up for parole, and they want him there to make a good impression on the parole board." The woman stopped what she was doing and looked at him skeptically. "I know, I know, but he's promised to act right, at least till he's out of sight of anyone official."

Mo grunted. "Has her old man found gainful employment yet?"

Joxer bit his straw. "W-e-l-l... Auto got himself a job as a used car salesman. I'm not sure whether that qualifies or not, but it's better than what he used to be doing. Eris wouldn't be in the pokey now if she hadn't gone upside the head of that State Trooper when he handcuffed Auto that last time."

A huge 4 x 4 truck, black with lots of chrome, and scarlet flames painted down the side pulled up
outside. It parked, and both doors opened. A dark haired figure got out on each side, and a blonde man jumped out of the bed. Mo smiled as she saw the way Joxer's face lit up. This area wasn't the most enlightened in the world, and Joxer and Ares had to take some shit for their relationship, but they sure were sweet together.

They entered. Both of the dark haired men were wearing all black, mostly denim or leather. The
slender, pale youth grinned at the racous buzz of the alarm, and held the door open when it started to close. Mo pointed a pricing gun at him and yelled over the noise. "Strife, stop that!" He just smiled wider. Mo raised her voice to the tall blonde man standing patiently behind the boy. "Cupid!"

The blonde man cuffed the dark haired one gently on the back of the head. "Cut it out, Mischief, or I'll cut you OFF."

Strife pushed the door closed with a pout, saying to the clerk. "You don' play fair, cher. Ain't nice to go messin wit a man's love life."

"Don't you 'cher' me, you devil," she replied. "The last time you were in here you slipped Hustlers in all the copies of Family Circle and MAD magazine. Some kids got an education their mamas and daddies never figured on, and I had to help one old lady sit down, and bring her a glass of water."

"Cain't he'p it if dey got no sense o' humor, darlin'."

Ares had slipped into the booth, Joxer sliding over to make room for him. He put a hand on the younger man's shoulder, rubbing it, and said, "You're lips are blue, Jox. You been holding your breath again?"

Mo called, "Oh, go ahead! There's nobody here, and you know you want to."

Joxer turned his head, giving the empty parking lot and the street outside a quick scan, but Ares laughed. He flipped off the other man's cap, put his hand into his dark hair, and kissed him, licking at the blue stained lips. When he released the blushing Joxer he said, "Mmm... raspberry Joxer, my favorite flavor."

Strife was heading for the back cooler. "Mo, you gonna sell me some beer tonight?"

"One, it's after hours, and don't give me that 'they sell it all night long in Louisianna' garbage, cause this is Texas, and two, I'm still not taking that joke ID you have."

"Hey, I paid good money fo' dat!" he complained, bringing a bottle of Jolt cola to the counter.

"From who? Salmoneus?" She groaned as she checked him out. "Just what the world needs--you on a sugar and caffiene high." When Strife joined the others in the booth she went back to her work. "Hey, 'Res, you had any interesting jobs lately?"

Ares was a bounty hunter. His dad, Zeus, was some big honcho at the gas refinery across the street, and had tried to get his son to take a job as a shift foreman. Ares had told him to stuff it. He liked his independence, wasn't real good about answering to others, and said he'd be damned before he shaved off his beard to meet the safety regulations. "Nothin much. I hauled some blonde bimbo back from Dallas. She's supposed to go up on forgery charges--falsified some scrolls and tried to sell them to a collector. It almost got exciting, though. When I went to get her she was holed up with her lover--a big, buff, brunette chick who was ready to kick my ass till she found out WHY Blondie was hiding out. Turns out the girlfriend has a serious attitude about honesty. Surprised the hell out of, uh... what was her name? Oh, Gabby. Boy, did that name fit, too. Nearly talked my ear off on the way home, and not a single nice thing to say."

Cupid had sat down opposite Joxer and Ares, and now Strife joined him. Mo was used to seeing Cupid in a suit and tie, but he looked a lot more comfortable in the cowboy style shirt, jeans, and boots. He said he HAD to wear the 'straightjacket' (his name for a jacket) at work, and he wasn't going to wear it a minute more than he had to. Cupid headed research at a local chemical plant. Some people said that he concocted aphrodisiacs in his spare time. Mo always scoffed at this rumor because 'nobody THAT fine needs to waste their time on trying to cook up Spanish fly.'

Not if Strife was any indicator, anyway. The younger man was totally at ease with his sexuality, and didn't give a damn who knew about it. He currently had an arm around Cupid's neck and a leg thrown over one of Cupid's. He wasn't the least uptight.

And speaking of uptight...

"What do you hear from your half-brother these days?" Mo asked.

Ares scowled, "Not a hell of a lot, but still more than I'd like. He sent Daddy another Skybox pass for the next game in Houston."

Joxer rubbed his arm, saying quietly, "You got to stop lettin' him get to you, 'Res. Yeah, Zeus ain't much of a daddy..."

"He's one mean, selfish, favorizin' ol' bastard is what he is," drawled Strife. "Just cause ol' Herk th' Jerk plays football he thinks dat musclebound mo-ron walks on water."

"So do a lot of people," commented Cupid wryly. "Let's face it, you get to play for the Dallas Cowboys and people here in Texas think you're some kind of a demi-god."

"I just hate how hypocritical he is," snarled Ares. "Yeah, he was married, and he lost his wife and kids, and that was so bad it was almost a Greek tragedy, but he's gotten so holier-than-thou since then. Walks around like he's some sort of a hero, turns his nose up at Joxer..." Oh, here was probably the main reason. You didn't mess with Joxer when Ares was around... or when he wasn't around, for that matter. Ares had a good memory, a rotten temper, and a long reach.

Strife was nodding vigorously. "Yeah, 'specially when he's hangin' wit dat lil blonde place kicker on his team. Hooee, you seen him, Cupie? He got hair as bright as yours, but it hangs down past his shoulders. How th' hell he get away wit dat in th' NFL?"

"Because he can kick a field goal from, like, sixty-five yards out, that's why," said Joxer. He
sucked up the last of his Slushie. It made an an obscene slurping sound, and he blushed.

Ares smiled, pulling him closer, and murmured, "Gimme some cold tongue, baby." Strife did a wolf whistle when Joxer obliged. Ares kicked him under the table, never breaking the kiss. When they finally broke for air he stood up and said, "Y'all go use the pot before we go. I ain't pulling over to the side to let y'all run off in the bushes." He arched an eyebrow at Cupid, who was nuzzling Strife's neck. "Last time I did it you two were gone almost an hour."

Strife and Joxer both went back to the restrooms. Since Joxer went into the men's, Strife went into the ladies. Mo called out, "I find anything nasty written on the wall in there, I'm skinning your hide when you come back." She was answered by a giggle.

She went to the counter and sold a pouch of Red Man tobacco to Ares, setting a styrofoam cup on the counter. "Here's a spit cup for you, and you know that Joxer isn't going to kiss you while you use that stuff, don't you?"

"I know. Cupe, get me a bottle of water. Mo, I'll take that itty bitty bottle of Scope, too. I can
rinse out after I have my fix, and I'll be kissin' fresh."

The other two came back from the bathroom. Mo gave Joxer a roll of nickels, and he promised to try to run it up a little for her. They all waved, Strife giving her a cheeky wink, and went back to the truck.

Mo watched as the sleek truck sped off, headed for the Louisianna border. They were all nice guy. Joxer, bless his clumsy heart, had faced down drunks who were trying to give her a hard time over beer selling hours. Of course, Ares had to step in and kick ass when the drunk tried to throw Joxer through the plate glass, but he did it in a way that didn't humiliate his lover. Strife had let the air out the tires of the car of a couple who had been shoplifting, trapping them till the cops arrived. Cupid had introduced her to her current boyfriend. All good guys.

They never gave her grief like some of her so-called 'normal' customers did. Take Zeus, Ares's dad, for instance. What number marriage was this, and HOW many illegitimate kids did he have scattered around? She shook her head, grabbing a broom to begin sweeping the lot, muttering, "And he says he wants 'Res to get into a 'stable' relationship..."


END