Title: Kataplisso Egkymosyni Giorti

Author: Scribe

Fandom: Xena metafiction

Pairing: Implied only

Rating: R. Expect some salty language, and probably some groping. Hey, Cupid and Strife will be there.

Summary: One of the AJCS gets a surprise baby shower from a friend and some 'characters'.

Archive: Mailing lists, AJCS archive, and WWOMB

Feedback: poet77665@catlover.com

Status: Half done

Sequel/Series:

Disclaimer: I did not create the media characters here, I don't own them. I derive no profit from this effort. I mean nothing but respect for the creators, owners, and the actors and actresses who portray them. Scribe, Impetua, and Accord are my own and copyrighted.

Websites: http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/scribescribbles and http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/foxluver

Translation: Greek translation of title--Surprise Pregnancy Celebration. That was the closest I could come to 'surprise baby shower'.

Notes: I promised TW a cheer-up fic a while back, and have neglected it shamefully. She reminded me of it in a recent chat. *pats nudgie frined on the head* I'm going to be taking a little liberty with her pregnancy's progress.

Formatting: (Making it complicated, ain't I?) //Scene setting// *actions and sound effects*



Kataplisso Egkymosyni Giorti
By Scribe

//TW's house in Southwest Florida. It's muggy. TW, not quite seven months along in her pregnancy, comes out of the bedroom. She is dressed in baggy shorts, and baggier T-shirt, barefooted. She is waddling.//

*Significant other and future papa, J, comes out of kitchen* *TW spots him, and he freezes, like a rabbit caught in the headlights* *TW beckons him over*

TW: "Let me smell your breath."

J: "For God's sake, babe, I have better sense than to eat the last package of strawberry Pop Tarts." *She squints at him* "Steph, do you really think I'm stupid enough to do that after The Case of the Disappearing Last Chocolate Fudge with Sprinkles?"

TW: *sighs* "I'm sorry, hon. It's..."

TW and J, duet: "the hormones."

J: "I have to get to work."

TW: "I thought you were working the evening shift?"

J: "Um, I have errands I need to run." *She's starting to squint again* "I noticed that you're almost out of Dorito Guacamole Chips and salsa."

TW: "Gimme a kiss before you take off, and don't forget to pick up some Green Onion Dip."

J: *smooch* "Don't get too excited while I'm gone, huh?" *Leaves*

TW: *muttering* "Now what was THAT supposed to mean? Why would I get excited?" *grumbles* "I can't get on the net to read any new stories, and there's nothing but crap on television lately." *lowers herself carefully to the sofa, picking up remote* "Let's see..." *click*

Theme song from television: "Things just keep gettin' better..."

TW: "All right! Queer Eye for the Straight Guy! Woof, woof, woof! Maybe Carson will kiss the client again!" *pause* "Wait a minute--this is the middle of the afternoon. I thought that only came on in the evening." *peers closely at television* "And why are there blue sparks dancing around my television?" *eyes get big* "Crap! That can mean only two things! Either there's about to be an explosion, and I should get out of the way of flying glass, or..."

*FLASH*

Strife: "Ta-da! Ya like that one, right? I couldn't give ya tha Olympic channels--Zeus put the kibosh on that--so I fixed it so's ya can get yer favorite programs whenevah ya want."

TW: *blink* "Hello to you, too."

Strife: *rolls eyes* "Ya, right, that mortal hang-up on greetins an' farewells. Howya doin, Toots?"

TW: *looks down at tummy* "Well..."

Strife: *Manic grin* "Yah, I heard." *wags a finger at her* "Ya resigned from the DMV Club." *touches tip of finger to her tummy* "There's always a chance of that happenin when ya knock boots. I speak from experience."

TW: "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here? I usually don't see you unless Scribe is somewher around."

Strife: *snaps fingers* "Damn. I KNEW I forgot somethin." *FLASH*

*FLASH*

*Strife reappears, holding a breathless and swearing Scribe*

Scribe: "Sunuvabitch, Strife! You almost gave my mother a heart attack! Didn't I tell you to appear on the porch and KNOCK? Now when I get home I'm going to have to explain to her that I HAVEN'T been kidnapped by the Antichrist, or one of his minions." *he arches an eyebrow* "Oh, stop it. You're not that bad, and you're not part of the whole Judeo-Christian bit." *kisses TW on the forehead* "Hello, sweetheart." *TW starts to try to stand up* "Don't do that--I can lean down for a hug." *does so*

TW: *hug* "Wow, it's good to see you! I was just feeling a little depressed and lonely, now that J is working. A visit was just what I needed."

Strife: "Fantastic. An' guess what?"

TW: *wary now* "What?" *Strife is giggling* *TW looks at Scribe accusingly* "WHAT?"

Scribe: "Trust me--you'll like it. Strife? It's time."

Strife: *cracks knuckles* "I love this part." *deep breath* "NOW!"

*FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH* *FLASH*

*Cupid (carrying Impetua), Joxer (carrying Accord), Bliss (holding Cupid's free hand), Hera, Demeter, Artemis, Hestia, Athena, Persephone, Aprhodite, and Jayce (holding onto Aphrodite's toga, but it looks more like he's admiring the fabric than trying to cop a feel) all appear in a shower of multicolored sparks* *It looks like someone has set off a gross of sparklers in the room*

TW: "ACK!"

Scribe: "It was supposed to be at thirty second intervals, people!" *various looks are exchanged* *shrugs all around* "Right--gods--not really big on instructions from mortals. TW, I don't need to boil water, do I?"

TW: *gasp* "No, I'm okay. I should regain my vision shortly. But I'd like to know what the heck is going on."

Chorus: "SURPRISE! BABY SHOWER!"

TW: *squeak!*

Strife: "Ya, that's pretty much tha reaction we were aimin fah."

TW: *squeak!* *yelp!*

Strife: "But ya shoulda got ovah it by now, kiddo."

Scribe: "She's pointing."

TW: "Bay-beeeeeeeees!"

Scribe: "Whoa, cuteness withdrawl is kicking in! Quick, hand over one of the babies."

Cupid: "Better make it Impetua." *Cupid gently lowers the Goddess of Jealousy and Envy into TW's outstretched arms* "You know how she can be if other kids get too much attention."

TW: "Awww, Impy..."

Imp: *eyes TW shrewdly* *smiles* *coo* *TW melts* *Impetua looks at Strife* *smirk*

Strife: "That's my girl. She can spot a soft touch a mile off, an' hit an emotional button with bettah aim than her othah dad has with his arrows."

Cupid: "Luckily for us she seems inclined to be relatively benevolent, though I think when she hits two years old things may get interesting."

Bliss: *goes over to TW* "Hey. You gots a baby in you're belly."

TW: "Well, technically it's located in another internal organ..." *Cupid clears his throat* *Strife snickers* "But we don't need to go into that right now. But yeah--I'm preggers."

Bliss: "Do the baby kick?"

TW: "There are times I wonder if perhaps Michael Flatley has passed on, and I'm carrying the next Lord of the Dance."

Jayce: "Hexcuse me? Hi have spoken weeth Lord Apollo, hand hwe have an understanding that Hi am to have first consideration if that godhood..."

TW: "I was sort of speaking metaphorically, Jayce. And I'm glad to see you, but we have you and Joxer--where's Jett?"

Scribe: "Steph, is the King of Assassins really an appropriate guest at a baby shower?"

TW: "Point taken."

Scribe: "Besides, ever since Stranger in a Strange Land he's been trying to take our relationship from the fictional universe into my 'real' world..." *Strife laughs so hard he has to hold his side* "Yeah, yeah, yeah--I know. What the hell am I doing trying to differentiate levels of reality at this stage? Anyway, if he was here he'd be very grabby, and it isn't supposed to be THAT kind of party."

*A double-dapple weiner dog trots into the room, eyeing the gathering curiously*

Phairway: "Urf?"

TW: "It's okay, Phair. These are friends. You remember Scribe, don't you?"

Phair: *eyes Scribe* "Nnngr?"

TW: "That's right--Inga's mom."

Phair: *leer* "Woof!"

Aphrodite: *giggles* "No need to interpret that."

*Phair has spots Impetua on TW's lap* *Gods and mortals find out that dogs can frown* *Impetua looks at Phairway* *grins* *Eyes begin to glow green, and little silver-gray wings flap briskly*

Cupid: "Uh-oh. TW, I think your dog is jealous."

Accord: *looks at Joxer* "Down."

TW: "Joxer, that might not be a good idea. Phairway has always been a sweetie, but if he's jealous..."

Joxer: *sets Accord on his feet* "TW, have you forgotten Accord's godhood? He's the God of Mediation. Let him handle this. If it's too much for him, I'll step in."

*Accord toddles over to Phairway and throws his arms around the dog's neck*

Accord: "Wuv 'oo, doggie." *Phairway gives him a doubtful look* *Accord looks at Impetua* "Imp, wuv doggie." *Impetua flaps her wings, tilting her nose up* *Accord shakes a finger at her* *scolding* "Imp!"

Imp: *wiggles shoulders couquettishly, like she's considering* *slides off TW's lap, toddles over, and hugs Phairway* "Pwetty oof-oof."

*Phairway melts* *licks her face*

TW: "Damn. She's good."

Hera: "Of course--she's my grandchild. Cupid, Joxer--as much as I love the little ones, please corral them so that we may begin this event. I was gratified and happy to be invited, but I DO have obligations."

Strife: "Translations: Step it up. Places ta go, people ta intimidate." *flash* *A playpen full of toys appear* "C'mere, Impy." *picks up Impetua and puts her in the pen*

Joxer: "You, too, Accord."

Accord: "Five minutes?"

Joxer: "No negotiation this time, Cord. It wouldn't be fair to Imp."

Accord: "Yah." *lifts his arms to his father*

Joxer: *places Accord in pen* "He won't argue if I have a compelling reason. On the other hand, 'because I said so' isn't considered valid. It drives Ares nuts."

Aphrodite: *claps hands* "Okie-dokie, time to get things set up." *giggle* "That's the good part about being a goddess--we don't have to worry about freeing up a lot of time for decoration and fixing refreshments." *flashsparkleflash*

//The room is suddenly decorated in an astonishing array of pink*

TW: "Um, Dite? Hate to cramp your style, but we're pretty sure the baby is going to be a boy."

Dite: "Awww, how sweet! And poo. Okay." *wave* //Half the decorations turn baby blue// "Hestia?"

Hestia: *looks around room* "Hm. Strife, Cupid--move that chair, and that table and lamp over THERE." *flexes fingers* "I need a good sized clear space." *Strife and Cupid move the furniture*

*somehow a chair leg lands on Strife's toe*

Strife: "Mother--!"

Cupid and Joxer, duet: "STRIFE!"

Strife: "What?" *Cupid and Joxer point at the pen* *Impetua and Accord are standing, holding onto the top rail, watching Strife curiously* *Impetua is smirking*

Strife: "to-be." *he points at TW* "Right there."

Hestia: "Now--"

Scribe: "Wait, wait! Prerequisits, Hess. I want a few traditional redneck shower foods, then you're welcome to do all the baklava, roast fowl, and falafel you want."

Hestia: "Very well. What do you need?"

Scribe: *starts ticking things off on her fingers* "Little paper cups of salted, roasted mixed nuts..."

TW: "Not peanuts?"

Scribe: "You deserve the deluxe stuff, hon. Also pastel party butter mints. Itty-bitty, sissy, cut in teeny triangles, crusts trimmed off sandwiches." *looks at TW* "Want to shoot the works and have fruit salad?"

TW: "You betcha."

Scribe: "Waldorf or Watergate?"

TW: *blows a raspberry* "Ambrosia!"

All the gods: "Uuuuuh... no."

Strife: *giggle* "I dunno. Might be fun."

Scribe: "I'm buying all you people the White Trash Cookbook. Ambrosia--a salad of canned mandarine orange segments, coconut, and miniature marshmallows."

TW: "With Cool-Whip."

Scribe: "Really? My mom does hers with a little sour cream."

TW: "Interesting, but I'm a traditionalist."

Scribe: "It's your party. I'm just glad I don't have to explain Watergate to everyone. Pistachio instant pudding may be beyond most of them, except Strife.

Hestia: "Anything else?"

Scribe" "Are you kidding? The most important thing! One BIG ass sheet cake--white, with white icing--lots and LOTS of icing, decorated in pink and blue, with sugar figurines of hearts, booties, pacifiers, and such."

Hestia: "How much icing?"

Scribe: "As a diabetic, these stories are the only place I can enjoy bad for ya stuff. I want that sucker to look like it's two layer instead of one."

Strife: *throws an arm around her shoulders* "Like that, do ya?"

Scribe: "Give me a bowl and a spoon--you can keep the cake."

Hestia: "Okay, I can do this." *waves hands* *FLASH*

//There is now a long table, spread with everything Scribe described, plus honeycakes, toasted chickpeas, fruit tarts, (yes) various roasted fowls, baklava--and fish*

TW and Scribe: *look at Hestia* "Fish?"

Hestia: *shrugs* "Eris said that if she could make it, she'd bring Xena."

TW: "Oh."

Scribe: "Right." *claps hands* "Okay, we stuff our faces first, gossiping like hell..." *notices puzzled looks from the others* "We gossip like Tartarus--THEN we open the presents."

Hera: *looks around* "Shouldn't we wait for the father?"

TW: "I don't know when he'll be back."

Scribe: "He left?"

TW: "Well--yeah. He said he had errands."

Scribe: "But I told him we'd be here."

Joxer: "You warned him ahead of time?"

Scribe: *defensive* "I figured he'd want to clear his schedule, so he could be here."

Joxer: "Scribe, you have a lot of these type of parties in your world, right?"

Scribe: "Showers? Yeah, for weddings AND babies."

Joxer: "How many men have you seen attend them."

Scribe: "Oo--crap."

Joxer: "Right. You'll notice that Ares isn't here. I came because I've had a child myself--Strife is the same."

TW: "So why did Cupid come?"

Strife: "Cause I threatened ta make 'im sleep on tha sofa fah a week if he didn't."

Cupid: "That was overkill, babe. Threatening one turn-down would have been enough."

Strife: "I like ta be sure. Ya see, Scribe, such an estrogen laden atmosphere makes most guys nervous. Plus there might be discussions of childbirth."

Joxer: *nods* "Ares has had his intestines hanging out in loops, but when anyone mentions Cupid's delivery, he gets a little green."

Athena: "Wimp."

Artemis: "You've never given birth."

Athena: "Neither have you."

Artemis: "I've watched my hunting bitches whelp. If it hurts anywhere NEAR as much as it LOOKS like it hurts, I'm content to stay a virgin. More than content. In fact, ready to geld anyone who gets any ideas."

Jayce: "Don't look at me, honey."

Scribe: "Less snarking--more eating. Hestia, I'm sorry, but I forgot one other thing."

Hestia: "What would that be?"

Scribe: "The punch. Okay, you're going to need lots of gingerale, pineapple juice, and lime sherbert..."

Strife: "Wait! That foams, an' has soft green lumps in it, right?"

Scribe: "Yeah."

Strife: *starts taking notes* *muttering* "Gingahale, pineapple juice, lime sherbert... Wait fah big, formal occasion. Hide bottle in vest. Make gaggins sound. Bend ovah an' dump contents of bottle out..."

Scribe: "If anyone tells Zeus where he got the recipe, I'm writing them into the owie of the century."



END PART 1 OF 2