Title: Trouble and Strife

Author: Esmeralda

Archive: The Nesting Place and anyone else who wants it, just let me know :o)

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Angst (no deaths), h/c, unconsensual and consensual m/m sex

Pairings: Ares/Strife, Strife/Auto

Special guest appearances by numerous other gods, goddesses....and Joxer :o)

Summary: Auto finds himself in trouble. Strife complicates matters.

Series/Sequels: Not at this time

Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story, sadly, belong to me.

Feedback: Yes please ! This is my first attempt at this fandom so any helpful comments would be appreciated. I'd really like to know if there is *anything* of Strife's character in this story. I have very limited access to source material. Cruel when I'm currently *sooo* obsessed.

Key: // are placed around someone's personal thoughts
* denote word emphasis.
(I'm sorry if that's confusing but my computer won't let me send italics etc in an email.)

Grateful thanks to my beta readers Tacitah and Abbi Cee, who have saved you all from my hideously bad grammar.

For Erin, who inspired me to pursue this pairing with her amazing story - "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Tartarus." And for MB who told me to "Go for it !"

TROUBLE AND STRIFE

By Esmeralda

Auto pressed his forehead against the ice-cold bars and closed his eyes. //Stupid.... stupid.... stupid.// He couldn't believe it ! What *had* he been thinking ? Only a fool would even *think* of stealing from a god, and The king of Thieves was no fool.

So why then was he hanging, like a bird in a cage, from the ceiling of what he presumed was one of the god of war's personal chambers.

//Ares//. Auto couldn't suppress the shudder that passed through his body at the thought. Of all the gods, why Ares ? What had possessed him ? //Wait a minute......// Perhaps that was it ...Of course ! This was all some elaborate set-up, some devious scheme concocted by another god. He was simply a pawn, a player, a piece on a cosmic game board. But, if that was the case, which god was responsible ? And why ?

And what did it matter, he thought miserably. He was deader than Hades as soon as Ares thought up a suitably extreme way of ending his existence.

Sighing heavily, he opened his eyes, released the bars and slumped back. The cage wasn't tall enough for him to stand upright but at least it was long enough for him to stretch out his legs when he sat down. He wondered how long he'd been here. It was difficult to keep track of time in a room without windows.

The thief had already made a detailed mental note of his surroundings, just in case an opportunity should present itself. The room was long, fairly narrow and appeared to have been hewn out of solid rock. Sparsely furnished, it was dominated by a long ebony table and three chairs in a plain, heavy style. A fourth, high-backed chair, was set up on a raised dais at one end of the room. Ares' throne, presumably.

The walls were covered with shields, swords, axes and other implements of death and destruction. The overall decor was black, with only an occasional touch of grey and muted silver. Yet the room wasn't dark. The numerous candles and torches gave it a bright, constant light. Strangely they didn't flicker and showed no signs of ever burning out. //Must be a god-thing.// Auto mused idly.

He sighed again, and shifted awkwardly, trying to find a more comfortable position on the cold cage floor. At least that was a flat piece of metal, bars would have been unpleasant. As it was, the cold was seeping into his body, numbing certain parts of his anatomy.

He attempted to crouch up and for a moment the cage lurched sickeningly; the chain holding it in place creaked and groaned with the strain. Auto looked at it carefully, //hmm, maybe....//...and then dismissed the idea as worthless. Even if, by some astounding feat of skill and ingenuity, he succeeded in separating the chain from the ceiling or the cage, all that would accomplish was a long and painful descent to the flag stone floor below.

The simple reason being the cage, cunningly, had no lock. In fact it had no door. The only way out appeared to be the same way he got in....transportation by someone with godly powers. In short, a god.

It was he decided, a huge cosmic joke. One that saw the king of Thieves secured inside probably the only prison he had absolutely no hope of ever escaping from. Of course Ares would have appreciated the irony of that. The god had certainly seemed perversely pleased by Auto's horrified expression when the thief had realised just how impregnable his prison really was.

So, all Auto could do was sit tight...and wait.

Wait for the god of war to come up with a suitably gruesome end for the wretched mortal who had dared to defile one of his sacred Temples. It hadn't even been a particularily *nice* chalice, Auto reflected bitterly. Sure, the blood rubies were a nice touch, but the rest was just plain silver. Not exactly a precious artifact worth risking the wrath of a god to steal.

Auto still couldn't fathom what had made him do it. The *god-angle* was beginning to make more and more sense, unless it had been the extreme nature of the challenge ? The irresistible lure of a job no one else would even *dream* of undertaking. Or perhaps.....

A flash of light below interrupted his thoughts.

Ares had returned.

Chapter II

Auto wasn't sure if the smile gracing the god of war's normally saturnine features meant things were going to be bad....or really, *really* bad. He suddenly wished for a slightly less conspicuous position, like a cellar or a dungeon.......preferably in Thebes.

"So, *thief*." Ares imbued the word with scorn. "You must be feeling quite hungry by now ?"

//Hungry ? Was he ?// Auto hadn't really given it much thought. He peered down through the bars at the god, who slouched across his throne. "Just between you and me, I find death tends to dampen my appetite." //Especially when it's my own.// The thief cringed even as the words left his mouth. //Great Auto. Why not see if you can *really* piss him off. Maybe then he'll kill you quick and clean...as opposed to slow and messy ! //

However, Ares didn't look annoyed. Quite the opposite, he looked almost....amused. Somehow this was even more unnerving. Auto waited for the conversation to turn to the inevitable discussion of his untimely demise. Part of him still hoped that the god would take pity on him and skip the *really* painful parts.

//Ares, *merciful* ? Yeah, right.// Auto shook his head mentally.

"Well," Ares drawled, "I have no intention of letting you starve." The god's smile widened nastily. "Not until I've decided what I'm going to do with you."

Auto couldn't bring himself to respond with a witty rejoinder. A cold lump had formed in his throat. Ares' expression promised painful *and* messy, and in truth the thief was finding the thought of his own demise hard to deal with. Death had never seemed quite so imminent before. It was an unpleasant, if heady sensation.

"Strife !"

Ares' sudden roar made Auto jump. Before the god could open his mouth to bellow again, there was another brilliant flash.....and the god of mischief appeared beside his uncle's throne.

Auto barely suppressed a groan. Just when he thought things couldn't *possibly* get any worse.

However, it was rapidly apparent that Strife was far from his usual maniacal self. In fact he seemed oddly subdued, certainly for Strife. Almost cowed. The young god stood, fidgeting nervously, hopping from one foot to the other, head bowed, hands clasped; the perfect image of edgy, unwilling subservience.

//Hmm...has Strifey been a bad boy ?//

"Strife." Ares' voice rumbled through the hall like the throaty purr of a big cat. "I want *you* to take care of our...house guest, personally."

Strife's gaze followed his uncle's and flickered up to the ceiling. Auto watched the god's pale eyes widen in surprise. "Y-yes, Uncle."

Ahh, there it was, a definite tremor. And 'Uncle'. Not the more familiar, 'Unc'. *Something* was most definitely wrong. Perhaps the god of mischief had screwed up again and was doing penance. Whatever the reason, Strife's unease seemed genuine enough.

"He is to be let out once a day, to be fed, watered and....whatever." Ares waved his hand vaguely.

//Great//, Auto thought darkly, //Autolycus - House pet to the god of war.//

"Yes, Uncle." The young god winced as Ares' hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his hair.

The god of war's powerful fingers closed around the unruly black curls, tightening brutally until Strife was forced to kneel at his uncle's feet. "Do not forget," Ares hissed. "And he is *not* to be harmed. Is that understood ? !" He punctuated his words with a savage twist.

Strife yelped like a kicked puppy. "Y-yes ! Yes, Uncle !" he whimpered. Squirming in obvious pain.

Ares released his nephew, roughly pushing him away. Strife tumbled back off the dais and sprawled across the floor. "Begin now. " Ares ordered. With a flash he disappeared.

Leaving behind a very unhappy thief trading wary looks with an equally miserable god of mischief.

Strife got to his feet, visibly pulling himself together. "Okay." He rubbed his hands with something more like his normal malicious glee. "It's feedin' time."

Auto didn't even have chance to blink before he was transported into another room. He found himself standing beside a long wooden table lavishly laid out with food and wine. //Wow// was his first reaction, closely followed by a niggle of suspicion. What was the game-plan here ? Starvation clearly was not on the menu, just the reverse, it almost looked like Ares was trying to fatten...him...up?

Auto's throat constricted as he recalled Ares' other favoured pet. Was he intended as a juicy doggie treat for the hideous hound of war ? He felt his appetite, which had perked up at the sight of the food, dwindle again rapidly.

"What's up ? Food not to yer liking ?"

The thief couldn't be sure, but he thought he detected just a tiny touch of worry in the young god's tone. "No, no. Not at all. Just taking a moment to appreciate the generosity of the gods, " he replied glibly.

"Yeah, whatever." Strife muttered sullenly. The god threw himself into a chair at one end of the table.

A little apprehensively, Auto took the seat at the opposite end. To hide his unease he poured himself a goblet of wine. He sipped at it slowly. He had no intention of letting himself become inebriated, no matter how appealing the prospect seemed right now. He wanted a clear head for whatever might happen next.

The wine was very good, and the pleasing aroma of the food soon overcame some of his earlier misgivings and reawakened his appetite. As he ate he took the opportunity to surreptitiously examine his surroundings. This room was much more cave-like, from the sandy floor beneath his feet to the low craggy roof above. It was empty except for the table, two chairs and a large filled hot tub standing in one corner, beside a tall silk screen. At least it looked like he was going to be granted some privacy for other....umm....necessary *activities*.

Still, he wished Strife would *pop-off* somewhere else.

Not that the young god was paying him any attention. Strife sat, or rather sprawled, upon his chair tapping one foot in an agitated fashion. His pale blue eyes were fixed on some point in the distance. He was strangely silent.

Auto wasn't overly familiar with the god of mischief in person, but he had never been led to believe that Strife was the quiet, retiring type. He munched his way through a handful of juicy grapes and turned his focus away from the god and back to the room. Unfortunately a closer look proved equally unenlightening. There was no visible way in or out, except by the means which Strife had used to bring them both here.

"Done yet ?"

Auto turned back to meet Strife's unwavering blue gaze. He felt breathless. "What ? Oh, uh, yes.." //Shut up Auto. You're babbling.// He admonished himself harshly, disturbed that Strife should leave him feeling so flustered.

"Goody. Bath time then !" Strife leapt to his feet.

"Wh...what ?" Auto stammered.

Strife looked pointedly at the large hot tub, still steaming away in the corner. "Go do whatever you mortals do," he said.

Auto thought about protesting.....for about a heartbeat. It would be futile. Strife could strip him with one wave of a leather-clad arm. The thought made him shiver; exactly why he wasn't sure. "Okay, okay, but how's about a little privacy here ?" Auto knew he sounded petulant, but the thief chose not to care, hiding his discomfort behind his bravado.

Strife smirked, and in an exaggerated manner, put both hands over his eyes and slowly turned around. "Happy ?"

"Ecstatic." Auto mumbled, momentarily heedless that he was addressing a god, albeit a minor one. If Strife detected the less-than-worshipful tone it didn't seem to bother him. The young god kept his back turned while the thief hastily shed his clothing and slipped into the water, which, he had to admit, felt pretty good after hours in a cold cramped cage.

"*Now* can I turn around ?" Strife whined with a tinge of annoyance.

Auto decided not to push his luck. "Sure," he called out reluctantly.

Strife dropped his hands and span back round. To Auto's dismay the god then wandered over to the hot tub and crouched down beside it.

"Warm enough for ya ?"

Auto swallowed hard and reached for the wash cloth, covering himself up. "Fine. Thank you," he added quickly. You could never be *too* polite to a god. Especially when you were naked.

"Cool," Strife said, resting his arm on the edge of the tub, his hand trailing in the water.

Auto found his gaze drawn to that hand. It was surprisingly delicate looking, with long, slender white fingers. He let his eyes drift upwards to the god's bowed head. Strife's attention appeared to have wandered off again, and the thief was able to observe him unnoticed.

The god's face was flawless. There was simply no other word to describe it. Smooth, milk-white skin covering high, prominent cheekbones. The mobile mouth was wide and thin-lipped with a sensual tilt. The eyes were hidden from his view beneath incredibly long, thick lashes; but Auto knew that they were the colour of pale sapphires, clearer than the purest mountain stream. Finally his gaze fell upon Strife's unruly hair, the same blue-black as a raven's wing.

//Great,// Auto groaned inwardly. //Now I'm waxing poetic about the god of mischief.//

The thief had never made a point of discriminating on the basis of either race or gender. He could appreciate charms wherever they lay, if they were warm and willing, why worry ?

//But Strife ? ! //

Okay, granted the young man - Auto couldn't help but think of him as that - definitely had a certain 'appeal'. Sure, he was a little quirky, but Auto couldn't deny that he was affected by the way that tight black leather clung and moulded itself to the god's lithe form. Then there were those extraordinary pale eyes, and that exquisitely smooth looking skin....What would that feel like to the touch ?

Auto felt an all-too-familiar stirring between his legs and immediately tried to think of something, *anything*, else. Belatedly he recalled a story that stated a god could read the mind of a mortal.

Auto did the only thing he could do in his current situation....he panicked.

Fortunately, Strife showed no sign of having picked up on the erotic thoughts swirling through the thief's head. The young god continued to let his hand drift back and forth through the water in a distracted manner. Auto calmed himself, with effort, and cleared his throat. "Umm, is anything the matter ?" //Oh, great Auto. Draw attention to yourself with the lamest line in history.//

Strife lifted his head and Auto was momentarily stunned by the misery he saw there. Then the god blinked sharply and replaced the raw look with a much more guarded expression. "What d'ya mean ?"

Auto tried for nonchalance. "Oh, nothing really. You just seem a little...well...down."

Strife glowered at him darkly, reminding Auto that this was indeed Ares' nephew. The next moment he was back in his arboreal cage; thankfully fully dressed.

"Bye, bye Autee. Catch ya later." Strife disappeared in a flash of light.

Auto sighed. //Well that was fun.//

Chapter III

The next few days were an uneventful blur. The thief was only able to measure the passage of his imprisonment through his trips to the cavern, always in the company of Strife, who remained moody and taciturn. After his first aborted attempt to communicate with the young god, Auto made no further forays into conversation. Having given it some thought, the thief decided to try and be as unobtrusive as possible. Strife could, he knew, be very cruel and it was probably safer not to have that twisted little mind directed toward him.

As the days drifted past Auto did begin to formulate a hypothesis for the young god's uncharacteristic behaviour.

Ares it seemed, was currently engaged in a major campaign. Where, Auto hadn't been able to determine, but it was certainly causing the god of war a major headache. The resulting outbursts of temper were usually visited upon the hapless younger god, either by way of a cruel jibe, or a vicious backhand.

Auto found himself cast as an unwilling spectator to these bouts of godly displeasure, trapped as he was, with a vantage point high above the room.

Ares had apparently forgotten him....at least for the time being.

The thief was dismayed to find his thoughts dwelling more and more upon the victim of Ares' tirades. In trying to keep his mind from speculating about his own fate, it seemed he had instead become fixated on Strife.

In truth, Auto had a kind heart. He abhorred cruelty in any shape or form, and he found himself growing increasingly sympathetic to the young god's plight, and less and less tolerant toward Ares' bullying behaviour.

Nothing the god of war had said implied that Strife had screwed up. It simply appeared to be a way for Ares to 'let off steam'. Discord was notable only by her absence. Clearly she was content to let her son handle all the abuse.

As the days marched on, Auto's sharp eyes picked up on other, disturbing occurrences. When Ares was in a slightly less aggressive mood, or simply exhausted from his endeavours, the god liked to *stroke* Strife. Ares would sit upon his throne, head back, eyes closed, while Strife perched at his feet. The older god would rest his hand upon his nephew's head and slowly drag his fingers through the thick, untidy curls. Auto began to wonder if that was the reason why Strife's hair always stuck up in such a strange manner.

Sometimes the hand would stray lower down the young god's body, caressing the skin of Strife's exposed throat, or stroking a pale cheek.

Strife never even offered token resistance, accepting it all silently. During these *petting* sessions his expression was mixed, apparently torn between wanting to pull away and wanting to prolong the gentle contact - like a cat, coveting attention.

There was, the thief mused, something decidedly feline about the god of mischief. That slender, agile body, the way it moved - when Strife wasn't being so 'twitchy' - all sinuous grace and fluid sensuality. Finally there was that wide, unblinking stare, set in a face dominated by strong cheekbones and a thin mouth.

Even his character was in keeping with a cat's - strange and solitary. Auto could almost see Strife thrashing an imaginary tail back and forth as the god sat waiting for him to finish eating or bathing.

His idle speculation was shattered by the arrival of Ares.

"Strife ! Strife !"

Auto jumped, startled, his head slamming back against the bars. //Ouch.// He glanced down. //Uh-oh. This does *not* look good.//

The god of war stood, bloodied sword in hand, clearly fresh from the field of battle. Blood and dirt also covered much of his face and body, though it did nothing to hide his expression, his features cast into a ferocious mask.

"*Strife* !"

A flash, and the god of mischief appeared, looking decidedly unnerved by his uncle's furious visage.

He wasn't the only one. Auto had never seen Ares quite so enraged. He felt a shiver of apprehension trickle down his spine. Unable to tear his eyes away from the scene playing out before him, the thief watched as Ares thrust out an enormous hand, seizing his nephew by the throat and lifting the god off his feet. With a sweep of his sword, Ares sent the candles and silverware flying off the table. Then he carefully lay his weapon to one side. With infinitely less care he hoisted his nephew up and threw him down onto the table.

Strife lay awkwardly on his back, his legs dangling off the edge. Auto caught a brief glimpse of the young god's face - it's expression a gut wrenching combination of fear and awareness. Evidently this was nothing new to him. Auto was beginning to have a *very* bad feeling.

Ares grabbed the younger god's legs and pulled them open, positioning himself between them. Strife's terrified face was blanked from Auto's sight. The thief found he was shamefully grateful.

The older god waved his hand and Strife's lower garments disappeared. Auto blinked, his hands tightening on the bars of his cage. //What the ?-//

Leaning over his nephew's prone form, Ares used both hands to rip open Strife's jacket. Silver studs and rings flew across the room. There was a brief pause, Ares' hands moving down to the front of his own trousers. Then Ares grabbed the young god's legs, lifting them up and shoving himself forward in one movement.

Auto could see the muscles in Strife's legs twitch and spasm, before they stiffened as Ares began to thrust.

//Oh, my god ! //, Auto gave no thought to the irony of his words, //he's raping him.//

Shocked to the core, Auto stared, too stunned to look away, as Ares drove into his nephew's body, grunting with effort. The thief still couldn't see Strife's face, but he could see one hand, clenched into a tight, white fist as the god of war's hips pistoned faster, harder, deeper.....

Finally, with a roar that seemed to shake the room, Ares gave one last brutal thrust and came, collapsing over the younger god's body. After a moment he pulled back, straightened his attire, picked up his sword and vanished.

Strife was left, stretched out across the table. The fear had bled from the young god's face, leaving his expression eerily blank. Slowly, Strife sat up. Auto felt his chest tighten as he watched the god's attempts to reassemble his torn clothing; the pale fingers ineffectually struggling to pull together the two halves of the ripped jacket.

Ugly black bruises stood out starkly against Strife's pale skin, and fresh blood smeared the insides of his thighs. Clearly one god could hurt another. Or perhaps it was because this was Ares' domain, and here the god of war's own rules applied.

Auto was unable to stop himself speculating on the ugly possibility that Strife, strange and twisted as he sometimes was, actually enjoyed this kind of attention. Just as the unappetizing thought tracked across the thief's mind, Strife looked up....and Auto saw something he'd never expected to see on the face of any god.

Pain.

Not just physical hurt, though that was certainly in evidence from the slow cautious way that Strife was moving, but an emotional pain, raw and deep.

Stunned, Auto stared back at the god, who met his gaze unflinchingly.

Then Strife vanished in a bright flare of light.

Feeling sick to his stomach, Auto sank back. He desperately wanted to forget what he had just witnessed. But it seemed to have burned itself irrevocably into his memory, and when he closed his eyes, all he could see was Strife's look of tormented suffering.

Chapter IV

The next 'feeding time' proved to be just as awkward and unpleasant as Auto had feared. Strife refused to even look at him, and the tension was tangible. Auto simply had no idea what to say, so he said nothing.

The uncomfortable silence grew steadily more oppressive as the days went by. Though at least Ares made no further appearances during this time, much to Auto's relief.

On the eleventh day of his imprisonment, Auto noticed that Strife was even more agitated than usual. The young god stood, slouched back against the table. He was keeping his head down and was trying to conceal his face behind his hand. Boldly, the king of Thieves put down the piece of fruit he was eating, and got up, walking around the table to stand before the god.

Without saying anything, Auto gently moved Strife's hand away and caught hold of the young god's chin, tipping his head back. What he saw made him wince. The left side of Strife's face was swollen and discoloured with an ugly purple bruise stretching from just beneath his eye to across his cheek.

"Ares did this ?" The thief asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Strife shrugged, feigning indifference, though he made no attempt to free himself from Auto's hold.

Auto lightly stroked his forefinger over the bruise. "Why does he treat you like this ?"

Pale blue eyes widened in disbelief. "Well duh ! He's the god of war !" Strife snarled, pulling back sharply.

Auto's mouth tightened. "So that gives him the right to hit you ? ! To bully you ? ! To...to," he hesitated. Strife watched him fearfully. "To rape you," the thief finished softly.

Strife twitched. "If he wants to. Yeah."

"Why !" Auto exclaimed. "Why do you let him ?" He couldn't understand Strife's calm acceptance.

The young god looked totally incredulous. "*HELLO* ? ! This is Ares we're talking 'bout. The big guy ? The god of terror an' violence ? Oh, and *yeah* MY MASTER !" Strife stopped and lowered his head to stare at his feet. " 'Sides," he mumbled sullenly, "why d' ya care ?"

It took a moment for Auto to register the god's half-uttered question. When he did, the thief stiffened. //Why do I care ? // He had been telling himself it was because no one, even Strife, deserved to be treated like this. But Auto knew, even as he tried to rationalise his concern, that there was a lot more to it than that. Despite his better instincts, or perhaps because of them, he *liked* the god of mischief....He liked him a lot.

He said as much, and watched as Strife's pale eyes widened still further.

"Y-you....you like me ?"

Auto pulled at his collar, flustered. "Well....er....yeah. Sure."

"You *really* like me ? !" Strife repeated, clearly stunned by the concept.

"Yes, yes. I *really* like you. Now can we just forget I said it ? Let's not make a big deal out if this okay ?" Auto pleaded.

With deadly swiftness, Strife's delighted look was transformed into one of deep suspicion. "Why ?"

"Huh ?"

"*Why* d' ya like me ?" the god demanded.

Auto shrugged helplessly. "I...I don't know. I just do. Sometimes there is no *why*. You just like someone because you....well...*like* them."

Strife seemed to consider the thief's words carefully. After a moment his expression brightened. "Cool." Then his smile turned shy. "I...I like you too Auto."

Auto blinked, caught off-guard by the unexpected confession. He hadn't anticipated *that* particular response. Ridicule, wild laughter, maybe, but not *that*. Nor had he calculated for the sudden tingling warmth Strife's words brought forth. Without thinking, his hand came back up to cup Strife's chin. "Can't you heal this ?" he asked.

Strife grimaced. "Not 'til Unc says so." He smiled somewhat tremulously. "It don't hurt tho'. I dealt with *that* part. Though *he* don't know that." Strife's eyes gleamed a little, clearly pleased by his cleverness.

A surge of rage swept through Auto as he absorbed the extent of Ares cruelty. He clamped down on it with considerable effort. Strife was staring at him apprehensively. The thief had no explanation for what he did next.

One moment he was choked with fury, the next he was falling, hopelessly lost in impossibly wide blue eyes. Slowly, he lowered his face to Strife's. The god looked startled, but didn't pull away. Auto moved in a little closer until his lips lightly grazed the bruised cheek.

Strife twitched and sighed softly.

It was the sigh that clinched it.

Instead of pulling away Auto turned his head and softly touched his lips to Strife's. He lingered there for several heartbeats. Just as he was about to finally pull away, Strife opened his mouth. Tongues met tentatively as they tasted one another, transforming the chaste kiss into something much more dangerous.

//I'm kissing a god//, was the one intelligent thought that passed through Auto's dazed mind. Then he gave himself up to the heady sensation of Strife's eager mouth moving against his.

The young god tasted surprisingly sweet, reminiscent of fine wines and rich honey. The lingering taint of ambrosia perhaps ? Strife also knew how to kiss, he *really* knew. A touch aggressive perhaps, but Auto certainly wasn't complaining. Finally, with some reluctance, the thief had to come up for air.

Strife looked confused for a moment when Auto struggled and pulled away. The god's expression cleared. "Oops. Right. You gotta breathe. Sorry."

"Not...not a problem." Auto gasped.

A slightly awkward silence fell, punctuated by the sound of the thief, trying to get his breath back.

"Sooo," Strife drawled, breaking the silence. "What was that ?"

"That ?" Auto echoed blandly.

"*That*" Strife repeated. His gaze hard.

"Oh *that*. Umm...a kiss ?" said Auto innocently.

Strife shot him a *Well duh ! I know *THAT* look.*

Auto struggled to answer the god's real question. "You mean *why* did I kiss you ?"

Strife gave him a pointed look and stepped back, folding his arms defensively. He looked very young and uncertain.

The king of Thieves sighed and drew in a deep breath. Before he could launch into a plausible explanation, Strife cut in. "Don't even *think* of telling me you don't know. Cus I won't believe ya."

Auto breathed out deeply. "Alright !" he admitted. "I kissed you because I wanted to. Because....because I want you." He was a little surprised by his own honesty, but even as the words passed his lips he knew that they were true. He did want the young god, he wanted him so badly it was driving him nuts.

It was a peculiar feeling. Auto was used to craving *things* - gold, precious stones, trinkets and the like. But wanting someone ? Needing someone ? That was altogether new and alarming.

Strife lowered his gaze to his feet again. "I...I guess I want you too," the god murmured. He seemed as surprised as Auto by the admission, and a little uneasy.

Auto would never have believed that a god could feel nervous, but clearly that was exactly what Strife felt. Doubtless motivated by his deep-rooted fear of Ares. Perhaps the young god was wise to be concerned. This fascination could prove fatal to them both.

Suddenly Strife looked up, his eyes gleaming. "So, Auto. Do'ya wanna fuck ?"

Auto floundered, briefly taken aback by the bluntness of the invitation. Strife's words sent a bolt of heat through his body. It went straight to his groin, clouding his ability to think. All his mind wanted to do was mentally undress the young god...preferably as a prelude to the real thing. Then his mind chose to replay the image of Ares' vicious assault. Auto closed his eyes, trying to banish the unwelcome memory. He swayed slightly.

Strife caught him. When Auto opened his eyes the young god was gazing at him worriedly, from less than a hands-breadth away. "Hey. Auto. You okay ? I didn't mean to like...shock ya or what ever."

Auto smiled. "Yes you did. But it doesn't matter."

Strife's face fell.

Belatedly, Auto realised how his words might be misinterpreted. "No ! I didn't mean it doesn't matter because I don't want to. I do. Very much." He hurriedly added.

Strife's expression was almost comical. "Ya do ?!"

Auto didn't have a chance to respond, he found himself stretched out naked upon a pile of creamy-coloured pelts. Strife was sprawled out beside him, equally unclothed.

For a moment all the thief could do was stare. He would have been lying to himself if he said that he'd never thought about what lay beneath that outfit, all those odd patches of leather and black vinyl, but it seemed even his wildest imaginings had failed to do the young god justice.

Strife was slender but not thin. His smooth pale skin covered sleek, well-defined muscle; like a statue carved from the purest white marble.

The extreme pallor was even more startling, set against his raven-black hair and clear blue eyes. Auto's gaze caught on something, he looked closer and swallowed hard. Strife's pale pink nipples were pierced with twin slender, silver hoops. The right was also pierced with some sort of metal bar, secured at either end with a tiny silver ball.

Auto's mouth went dry, and he had to swallow several times more before he could summon up enough saliva to speak. "T-there is something to be said for the *slow seduction* routine, you know."

Strife looked puzzled. Then he grinned. "Gotcha." A wave of his hand and they were both fully clothed again.

Auto wasn't sure he was totally happy about it, but at least the higher parts of his brain resumed functioning.

"Better ?" There was no mistaking the hopefulness in the young god's tone.

Auto gave him an encouraging smile. "Better."

Strife looked relieved and turned over onto his back. "Cool. Not sure why ya want all the hassle of taking things off piece-by-piece tho'."

The thief ran his eyes appreciatively down Strife's leather-clad form. "Oh, it has a certain appeal," he mumbled distractedly. Then he frowned. Just how *was* he going to get Strife out of that outfit ?

"It laces up down the back." Strife offered helpfully. The god wriggled over onto his belly.

Confronted with taut buttocks beneath skin tight leather, Auto bit his lip to stifle a moan. The thief stretched out a less than steady hand. Then he stopped. "How did you know what I was thinking ? Did you just read my mind ? !"

Strife buried his face into the crook of his folded arms. "Sort of," he muttered.

"What do you mean *sort of* ? Can you read my mind or not ?"

Strife turned his head to look at the thief. "I can," he grumbled." But only little itty-bits. Thoughts kinda rush through yer head real quick.

Ya know ? I just snatch glimpses of them. I'm not real good at the whole *mind-reading* gig. Dite's loads better," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Dite ? Oh, *Aphrodite*"

"Well, duh !"

"So, you can't read my every thought ?"

Strife rolled his eyes. "That's what I said. Now d'ya wanna fuck or not ? 'Cus I gotta tell ya, you're really ruining my mood here."

The petulant tone brought Auto sharply back into focus, reminding him that he was with a god, the god of mischief no less, and it probably wasn't wise to piss him off. Besides he really did want to do this !

With that in mind, the thief propped himself up on one elbow and began to unlace the young god's jacket. Whether Strife was assisting with a *godly-touch* or two, Auto didn't know, and he didn't care. He was grateful that the laces practically undid themselves. Pulling the jacket open to expose the pale skin of Strife's back, the thief blew on his fingers to warm them a little.

"Come on already !" Strife snapped impatiently.

Auto refused to be hurried, but he did slip one slightly shaky hand inside the open jacket. //Oh. Yesss.// The thief let out a long, shuddering breath. Strife's skin was like cool silk beneath his searching fingers. Unable to hold himself back the thief leaned over and placed a soft kiss on one creamy shoulder blade. He let his tongue flicker out to taste the god's smooth flesh.

Strife moaned appreciatively and arched up into the wet caress.

Eagerly, Auto pulled himself up and straddled the god's legs. Then he began to slowly kiss his way down Strife's exposed back.

"Oh fuck. Yesss !" Strife hissed.

When Auto reached the god's waistband, Strife twisted sharply, shedding his jacket and turning over in one swift movement. Auto didn't break his stride, rubbing his hands over the god's lean torso, while Strife squirmed and gasped beneath him. Clamping down with his thighs, the thief tried to hold the god still, as he leaned in to capture one cold nipple ring, twirling it between his teeth. Strife whimpered, his hands grasping at Auto's hair, holding the thief in place. Auto lathed and sucked the sensitive nub, flicking his tongue against it. Strife bucked upwards, almost throwing the thief off..

Auto slid down the god's body, his tongue mapping out the madly writhing torso. Finally he lifted his head a little. "Maybe...maybe you should get rid of the rest," he gasped.

Strife smirked and waved his hand. The rest of their clothing vanished. god and mortal groaned together at the first contact of skin to skin. Auto turned his attention back to Strife's nipples, finding the combination of flesh and metal surprisingly erotic. Strife's hands twisted in his hair painfully and the thief was suddenly mindful of the god's unnatural strength. Strife could probably snap him like a dry twig. "Hey. Easy, easy. I'm not going anywhere." He disentangled himself, moving back up to kiss the young god reassuringly.

Strife devoured him. Auto let him, enjoying the intensity of Strife's hunger.

The thief let out a small, "umph," as he was flipped over onto his back, placing Strife on top, not an unpleasant turn of events by any means. Grinning, the god repaid Auto's earlier attention with his own very thorough administrations. Licking, kissing, sucking and biting his way down Auto's body until the thief was sure he couldn't take it any more. "Please. Please," he gasped. Not quite sure *what*, exactly he was begging for.

Strife apparently knew only too well, as the god suddenly swallowed Auto's erection down to the root.

The thief had enjoyed some fairly mind-blowing fellatio in his time. Including a girl in Crete who could do this amazing thing with her tongue....But nothing, not even that had prepared him for this.

Strife deep-throated him with a skill the most accomplished whore would have envied, the muscles of his throat working the head of the head of the thief's rigid length, stroking and squeezing it. Auto screamed, thrust hard, and came, stars floating around the edge of his vision before the blackness reached out and claimed him.

When he returned to consciousness he was laid on his back, with Strife rubbing against him sinuously He was already getting hard again. Auto looked down at his waking flesh in disbelief.

"I didn't think you'd mind a helpin' hand, so to speak. " Strife leered. Reaching down to stroke Auto's erection the god rubbed a finger across the weeping tip. "You tasted nice, Auto, " he whispered, brushing a kiss against the thief's ear.

Auto instantly decided if Strife wanted to use a little godly power to jump start him, he, for one, was not about to complain. He flipped Strife over onto his back. The young god's own erection stood proudly against his belly. //Not bad. Not bad at all.// Auto thought admiringly. He rubbed his body over the god's, back and forth, back and forth - a slow, teasing, maddening pressure. Strife groaned loudly and pushed up against him.

Breathlessly, Auto sat back, taking a moment to admire the young god. Strife was so incredibly responsive, so uninhibited. It was a total turn on just watching him. He stroked his fingers down the young god's chest, gently tugging the nipple rings.

"Ohhhhh....Fuck." The god moaned.

Moving quickly, Auto captured the god's mouth in a searing kiss, the heat flaring between them. When they finally broke apart they were both gasping.

"Do me Auto. Do me *now*", the young god growled.

//Oh. Yeah, baby.// Auto glanced around anxiously. "Oil, need oil," he muttered.

Strife shook his head. "Just *do it*!"

Auto was adamant. "No. I won't hurt you."

Strife growled again, this time in frustration, but a small bowl of oil appeared at Auto's side.

Auto dipped his fingers in it and began to prepare the young god, going as slowly as he could. Strife writhed and whimpered beneath the probing touch. Auto bit his lip hard, clinging desperately to the tattered remnants of his self-control.

As he added a third finger into the tight, hot channel, Strife bucked up hard and emitted a strangled. "*Auto* !"

Hastily, Auto poured the rest of the oil over his erection and moved to kneel between the young god's legs. He lifted them up and Strife wrapped them around his body. Shaking, hotter than he'd ever been in his life, Auto positioned himself at the entrance to the young god's body and pushed forward gently. There was the briefest touch of resistance, and then he slid past the tight ring of muscle. Fighting to go slowly, Auto pushed down, feeling his erection sliding deep into the tight, wet heat. //Oh gods !...// It was perfect. One final push and he was buried all the way inside. He paused, fighting for control. The urge to simply thrust savagely was overwhelming.

Strife had made a strange gurgling sound when he had entered him. But now the god lay still and silent. Auto waited anxiously for the god to adjust to the intrusion, desperate not to cause him any pain. The thief wasn't sure how he measured up to the god of war's....*dimensions*, but he knew that he was more than generously endowed for a mortal.

Suddenly Strife's head shot up off the furs, blue eyes blazing. "*Move* !" he hissed.

Auto obeyed gladly, already beginning to thrust in and out of the hot, slippery channel.

//So tight.// Auto had never taken a virgin, he could only imagine it must feel like this. His brain was melting. The pleasure was too much - it bordered on pain.

Strife bucked his hips, pushing back into each thrust, trying to increase the pace.

Auto clutched the slender thighs tightly, refusing to be hurried. Teeth gritted, he ruthlessly pushed aside his own needs, determined to bring as much pleasure as he could to the young god. He wrapped his oily fingers around Strife's straining hardness and stroked it firmly. Strife cried out sharply and came, his hot seed gushing over Auto's hand.

The god's inner muscles clenched around Auto's erection. The thief gasped and began to thrust furiously into the pliant body; his earlier control shattered. Auto gave his own hoarse cry of completion as he came, pouring his essence into the god's trembling body.

Exhausted, Auto slumped forward. Again the darkness chased him, but this time he pushed it away. He turned his head slightly, nibbling at the closet bit of Strife within reach, drawing the skin into his mouth.

Strife giggled. "You're gonna like, give me a major hickey."

Auto sucked harder, and then he stopped. He had remembered Ares. It would probably be very unhealthy to mark the god of war's *property*.

He looked up. Strife met his gaze. From the young god's expression it was clear that he had caught the thief's stray thought.

"I...I gotta put you back."

Auto nodded.

"I mean I don't *want* to !" Strife looked stricken. "But he'll be like, *really* mad if I don't."

Auto placed a soft kiss on the god's mouth. "It's okay. I understand."

Strife's stricken expression faded into one of relief.

The next moment Auto was back in his cage, fully dressed. It was a little crowded as Strife was crouched in front of him. The god darted forward and kissed Auto quickly. "Catcha later," he whispered and disappeared.

Auto licked his lips, tasting Strife on them. "Later," he echoed.

Chapter V

It seemed that the Fates were conspiring against them both, when the next 'feeding-time' coincided with Ares' dramatic reappearance. Auto felt an icy hand clutch his heart as he surveyed the god of war's bloody, battle-worn visage.

"Strife ! Strife !"

Auto gripped the bars fiercely. //No.... No....No...// He hoped against hope that Strife would ignore the summons. But he knew in truth the young god had no choice.

Sure enough, a bright flash and Strife appeared.

"Er..Unc ?-" he stammered.

Ares ignored him, grabbing the young god and throwing him down across the table, this time face down, legs braced against the floor.

Before Auto's horrified gaze the images that had haunted him replayed themselves. When Ares finally vanished, Strife slid down onto the floor sobbing bitterly.

"Strife. Let me out !" Auto rattled the bars helplessly. "Strife, *please*", the thief begged, distraught at the sight of his lover's grief.

Locked in his noisy despair it seemed the young god hadn't heard, but before Auto could call out again he found himself kneeling on the floor beside the weeping god.

The thief didn't say anything, he simply pulled Strife into his arms. The god tensed as though he would resist, and then sank into the embrace. Auto stroked Strife's back soothingly, feeling the tremors wracking the slender frame. Slowly the violent outpouring became a softer weeping and Auto was able to make out words between sobs.

"It's like....worse...Ya know ?.....Cos...cos ...you knowing....seeing....With you-" Strife drew in a ragged breath. "This sucks !" he wailed.

Auto tightened his embrace.

A while longer and the tears finally stopped. Strife sniffled and shifted in Auto's arms. The thief relaxed his hold enough to let them sit side-by-side. Strife lay his head upon Auto's chest and the thief stroked his lover's hair gently.

"You can't let him keep doing this !" Auto urged desperately, his voice rough with emotion.

"I-I can't stop him," Strife whispered.

They both recognized the truth behind the words and nothing else was said. They sat in silence, drawing what comfort they could from one another.

Suddenly Strife tensed and raised his head. "He's calling for me. I gotta go."

Auto instinctively tightened his grip on the young god.

"Auto. *Please*"

Reluctantly, the thief relinquished his hold. Tears burned his eyes. He felt trapped, helpless; not by his imprisonment, but by his own mortal fragility. He knew there was nothing he could do to help Strife, and it was tearing him apart.

Strife stood up shakily. For a moment they looked at one another, sharing with their eyes what they couldn't bring themselves to say.

Then Strife vanished and Auto found himself back inside his cage.

His face contorted in fury as he lashed out wildly at the bars - all his pent up grief, anger and frustration finally releasing itself. The tiny cage swung back and forth as he threw himself against it. He retained enough presence of mind not to call out in case he was heard. His emotions poured out silently, the tears flowing down his face.

When the fullness of his grief was spent he sank to his knees. For the first time since childhood, Auto seriously considered praying to a god.

But who would listen ?

Hermes ? - Hmm...Well, strictly speaking he *was* the god of thieves, but after that unfortunate incident with Iolaus and Hercules it was probably best not to trouble him.

Dite ? - No, she wouldn't want to get involved in something this 'heavy'..

That left......Zeus ?

//Well. Why not ? Sometimes it paid to go straight to the top.//

Auto began to pray....hard.

Chapter VI

Strife materialized beside Ares and instinctively took a step back, trying to gage his uncle's mood before he risked getting any closer. The god of war appeared to be in a good humour, his saturnine features cast into a near contented expression.

Strife was instantly on guard.

"Well nephew, Damacus is dead, his army is crushed and Pertrolius has his victory." Ares smiled slyly. "For now." The god of war moved toward Strife, who tried not to flinch away. "Now onto other more pleasurable matters. Time to dispose of our 'house guest'." Ares was unaware of Strife's stricken look. "I was hoping that you could come up with something suitably entertaining. I was going to ask Discord, but then I thought that *you* should have the honour." He draped an arm around the younger god's slim shoulders.

Strife stiffened. //Did Ares know ?// He tried to read his uncle's expression. Ares didn't *look* like he suspected anything.. But if that was the case then why was he being singled out for this *honour* ?

Amidst his panic he realised that Ares was still speaking.

".....so, What do you think ? I had thought of getting Heph to coat him in gold. A fitting end for the 'king of Thieves' - a permanent fixture in one of my Temples. Perhaps Sparta ? I always felt that place lacked a certain..'something'. No ? Hmm, perhaps you're right. A statue is so...*dull*. I want something exciting, something excruiating, something.....lingering." The god of war dug his fingers into Strife's shoulder. "Anyway, I leave it in your capable hands. I am sure that you won't disappoint me." The threat was hardly subtle. "I have an appointment with Hades." Ares' expression darkened in disgust. "Some confusion over a dead general." He disappeared.

Strife was left panicking. What could he do ? Ares clearly intended to make and example of Auto. The god of war seemed positively delighted at the prospect of the thief's unhappy fate. Strife paced frantically as he struggled to find a solution.

He could free Auto. But what good would that do ? Ares could find the thief anywhere. Plus, he would know that Strife was to blame. Okay. If *he* couldn't free Auto, perhaps he could get someone else to do it ?

Jerkcules and his short friend ? *No*. Not a good idea. If Unc ever found out.... The young god shivered. Besides the demi-god hated his guts. Not that it was any skin off his nose.

Okay then, what about Xena and *her* short friend ? Hmm....a possibility. But it still left the biggie problemo of Auto's safety one he was free.

Where would the thief be safe from Ares ? Strife grimaced. There was only one place he could think of - the Underworld. Unfortunately Hades got all twisty when none-dead-dudes hung around down there.

Briefly, Strife toyed with the idea of killing the thief. He could make it quick and totally painless. Of course Ares would have a cow about it, but at least Auto would be out of his reach.

There were considerable drawbacks to this plan. For one thing Auto would be dead. Strife didn't want that. Not that the dead squicked him or anything, but they tended to lose interest in mortal things like sex and all that emotional stuff. Strife was still trying to understand exactly *what* the thief did mean to him, but he knew that emotions were tied up in there somewhere.

And *no* sex ? ! *Forget that !*

Secondly, if Auto went to the Underworld he would be interred in a place relative to his mortal existence. So Auto could expect to be surrounded by gems he couldn't touch. Or worse be forced to eat gold or something equally unimaginative. Personally, Strife thought Hades sucked at thinking up 'punishments'.

So, what did that leave ? Basically very little. He could challenge Ares' decision to kill Auto....A plan which no doubt would prove short-lived and painful.....Once Ares had stopped laughing.

On the whole things looked grim. After all, Strife thought bitterly, how could he protect Auto when he couldn't even protect himself.

Still, if *he* couldn't do anything, maybe another god could ?

************

Sometime later, as he neared the bottom of his list of relatives, Strife was about ready to throw in the towel. It was hopeless. There were hardly any gods who would challenge Ares. Not because they liked him, but because it wasn't in their own interests to do so. Motivating them to act on behalf of someone else would be practically impossible. Gods were like *totally* self-absorbed.

He had tried to think of just *one *who might be persuaded to stir up Ares' ire for the sake of Auto. So far he had failed miserably. The trouble was, one mortal thief was not a significant enough player to engage any god's interest. There was Hermes....but he was still pissed at the thief over that whole 'stolen-sandals-thing'.

Dite did have a soft spot for the thief, but it was possible her dislike of Strife would overcome that. Besides she was off in a sulk at the moment.

He glanced down at the bottom of his left. That only left.....Zeus.

Strife had always made it a career choice not to bother the king of the gods. In fact he went out of his way to avoid him. Zeus was the only god he feared more than Ares....Maybe because Zeus was the only god even Ares was wary of.

It took the god of mischief a moment to remember that in his early years Zeus had actually appeared rather 'fond' of him. The king of the gods hadn't been around much, but when he had, he'd always seemed more amused than irritated by Strife's antics. He'd even rescued the very young god from Hera's wrath once, when Strife had unwisely played a practical joke on her.

His mouth twitched at the memory.

He made his mind up and blinked out, reappearing on Olympus - the home of the gods.

Fortunately, at that precise moment, none of them appeared to be at home. Strife had guessed that would be the case. Very few gods chose to hang-out on Olympus. It was big and drafty, and none too private. God's were terrible gossips. Anything you did here would be common knowledge in no time. *Really* common knowledge - like, 'picture on an urn' type-stuff. Also, it was really, *really* dull. Monumentally so. Mainly because everyone here was on their very best behaviour...so as not to become the decoration on a cheap urn, getting laughed at by some mortal.

Strife was pleased it was quiet. He didn't want to run into anyone. He made his way to the great library. The door was slightly ajar and he could hear the sound of pages being turned. He raised his hand slowly, and was just summoning the courage to knock, when a voice called out from within.

"Come in, Strife."

Strife almost had a full-blown panic attack. He was about to forget the whole thing and disappear, when he remembered Auto and the reason he was here. Straightening his shoulders he pushed the door open a little wider and slipped inside.

Zeus was sat in a large chair, perusing through the enormous tome in front of him. Several other, equally impressive volumes were piled up on the floor. Strife's courage began to crumble in the face of this - the most powerful, and arguably the most unpredictable, of all the gods.

Zeus sat back and watched the god of mischief edge his way nervously across the room. He of course, knew *exactly* why Strife was here. He had been keeping an eye on the wayward young god. "Well, Strife. And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit ?"

"Huh ?"

Zeus hid a smile. "What do you need, Strife ?"

"I....Who says I need anything ?" Strife said defensively, his eyes darting toward the door.

Zeus suppressed a sigh. This wouldn't do at all. He couldn't have Strife running off before he could offer his assistance. He softened his features, letting just the hint of a smile play upon his face. "Well, normally the only time any of you come to see me is when you need something."

Strife swallowed hard. "I...I...."

"Let's get to the point shall we ?" Zeus suggested. "This is about the thief - Autolycus. Am I right ?"

They both knew the question was rhetorical. But it eliminated the need for Strife to broach the subject and enabled him to simply start on the problem.

Once he got started, the young god seemed relieved to have someone to talk to. Gradually his nervousness faded and he spoke of his confusing feelings for the thief.

Zeus listened in silence. Part of his mind was thinking back to Strife's early godhood. Much of it had been spent on Olympus, with the young Strife left to his own devices. Discord wasn't exactly the maternal type.

Strife had spent a lot of time hanging out with Cupid. Zeus smiled inwardly. What a pair those two had made ! Then, Strife had been more playful in his mischief-making and Cupid had been a willing ally.

Eventually however, Ares and Dite had expressed their concern - both fearing what influence one young god might have upon the other. The two had been forcibly separated. Cupid taken under his mother's wing to begin his training. Strife removed to Ares' domain, to be tutored by his uncle and his mother. Together they had drawn out Strife's darker side, warping and twisting the teasing nature into something far more insidious. Thus nurtured, Strife's character became cruel and cunning.

This desire to save Auto was the first selfless, generous act Strife had demonstrated since his departure from Olympus all those centuries ago.

Zeus felt a twinge of guilt. How different might this young god have been if he had shown more interest in his upbringing. There was nothing that said mischief had to be unkind or hurtful. He should have insisted that Strife and Cupid be allowed to continue their friendship. But perhaps it was not too late? He had been preoccupied then, distracted by a beautiful mortal. It saddened him to see what his neglect had done to Strife's former playful spirit, now transformed into something black and ugly.

However, surely this was proof that it was not too late to undo a little of the damage ?

Besides, he had not been completely untouched by Auto's fervent prayers.

He waited until Strife had finished speaking, then he cast his features into a thoughtful expression. "Hmm, well. You really only have three options. If Auto agrees to worship you exclusively, then he is automatically placed under your protection. You can demand that the other gods leave him alone, and likewise you can demand retribution if they do not." He paused, leaning toward Strife and lowering his voice. "This may work with some of the others. You do have something of a reputation." He smiled. "I dare say they would probably prefer to avoid any trouble. But Ares..." His smile faded and his voice tailed off.

"He'd just laugh." Strife spat.

Zeus didn't respond to the young god's bitterness; instead he went straight on to the next option. "You could take him as a lover."

Strife looked down at his feet, the palest of blushes colouring his cheeks.

Zeus pretended not to notice. "But again, that only affords him your protection."

"Which is worthless." The young god whispered miserably.

Zeus lay his hand over Strife's. "Not worthless," he corrected softly. "But you have to accept that Ares is older and more powerful than you are. There are other gods who wouldn' t wish to challenge him for the same reason."

"So, what's behind door number three ?" Strife asked dryly.

"You can take him as your consort."

Strife's mouth dropped open.

"As your consort, he would be under *my* protection. And of course he would be offered the 'choice'."

Strife was still opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Eventually he managed to speak. "You...you'd do *that* ? For me ?"

Zeus nodded calmly. "I would. But Strife, this is a serious matter. Once done it cannot be undone. This is a commitment. It brings responsibilities. It doesn't mean that you cannot take other lovers, even Auto may. But only with *your* permission. He must understand that."

Strife considered the first part and decided it wouldn't be a problem. He didn't *want* anyone else. Then he scowled. There was *no* way he was going to share Auto. The thief would just have to accept a - 'no lovers' rule.

Then his scowl shifted into despondance. //Why would Auto want to ?// He asked his grandfather as much.

Zeus' smile became cunning. "Strife, my child. What choice does he have if he wants to live ? Besides you *are* a god ! He should be honoured. Make sure he understands *that* as well."

Chapter VII

Strife didn't waste any time. He spirited the thief out of the cage and brought them both to his own quarters. Taken by surprise the Auto suddenly found himself kneeling on a thick pile of very familiar furs.

"Woah !" He stumbled to his feet gazing around him wildly. He relaxed as soon as he saw Strife. "Are you alright ? Did he hurt you ?" Auto didn't even try to hide his concern as he moved to embrace his lover. He frowned, hurt and confused when Strife extricated himself and pulled away.

"What's the matter ?" His tone was guarded.

"We gotta talk Autee." Strife scuffed the floor with his booted toe. "Serious stuff."

Auto felt his chest tighten. "Go on." He tried to mask how he felt - which was as though his heart was being torn out through his chest.

Strife sighed and flung himself down onto the furs. He patted a place beside him.

Auto sat down.

The god of mischief kept opening his mouth as if he was about to say something, and then his features would scrunch up and he'd shake his head. Clearly he had *something* to say. He just didn't seem to know how to say it.

Eventually Auto had enough. "Look. Would it be easier if I did this ? How about something along the lines of - *Hey, Auto. It's been fun, but I'm a god you're a mortal. So thanks for the frolic but I gotta go now.* Is that about right ?" He couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice.

Strife stared at him. "What?-" Then the god looked aghast. "*No!*" He threw himself against the startled thief, knocking them both back onto the furs. "I don't wanna leave ya ! No way ! Not now.Not *ever*" With that he was kissing the thief forcefully.

Auto froze for a moment, then he moaned in pleasure and began to respond.

They kissed for some time, until Strife finally lifted his head. "Gotta let ya breathe." He grinned.

Auto lay, lips swollen, hair mussed. "Mmmrph..." he mumbled, reaching for the god.

Strife eluded his arm easily and moved off the thief to lie beside him. "We *have* to talk."

Auto made one last attempt to pull Strife back into a clinch.

Strife pushed him away. "Hey ! Not that I don't like ya all riled up and insatiable. But we *have* to talk."

Pouting, Auto gave up. "What's there to talk about. Ares wants me dead. Therefore I'm toast. End of discussion."

Strife frowned at the thief's complacency.

Auto caught the look. "Hey, you sit around thinking about it as much as I have and we'll see how fascinating you find it !" He defended.

"You're not gonna die." Strife snarled. The young god's temper flared at the thought.

"No ? Oh, *do* tell. Has Uncle Ares had a change of heart ?" Auto's voice dripped sarcasm.

"No." Strife mumbled.

"Well then, as I said 'The King if Thieves' is toast, finished, no more. Be sure to write me a nice epitaph-umph !" The thief found himself pinned beneath the god's wiry body.

"Gotcha. Now, will you shut up and listen ? Or do I have to turn you into something less chatty ? Like a snail ?" Strife's eyes gleamed.

"Oh, I think I'll be quiet."

"Good."

"You gonna move now ?"

"Nope."

"Oh. Okay."

Auto lay silently while Strife gave the thief a brief run-down of why he wasn't going to die.

"Your consort." Auto said slowly.

Strife nodded.

"As in - *marriage* ?"

A slightly more hesitant nod.

"Woah." Auto whispered.

Strife slid off him and sat, hugging his knees defensively. "Knew ya wouldn't want ta." The young god muttered.

Auto sat up quickly, moving to kneel before his lover. Strife put his head down and averted his eyes. Gently the thief reached out and drew the young god's face up to meet his. "I didn't say that." He said softly.

Strife looked at him, clearly torn between hope and despair. "I don't want ya to die Auto."

Auto managed a shaky smile. "Well I can't say the thought leaves me exactly thrilled." Then he turned serious again. "But this is...Well this is serious."

"That's what Gramps said. I mean what *is* it with everyone ? ! I can *do* serious."

//Gramps ?// Auto did a brief family tree in his head. //Oh boy ! Auto you are in it *so* deep this time.// However, he had to face it, his options were pretty limited. Limited to two in fact. Death, or marriage to the god of mischief and mayhem. He took a closer look at the unhappy face in front of him. He thought of the few brief moments they had shared - meal times, mostly spent in silence, and a quick roll in the rugs. Was that enough to choose a life partner on ? Okay, not Strife's lifetime maybe, but certainly his.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "So does this deal come with a condo or something ? Cos I have to tell you Temples are really not my idea of homey."

Strife stared at him blankly.

"That's a yes, by the way." Auto smiled.

Strife's eyebrows shot up and he unwound himself with dizzying speed. "*Yes*?"

"Yes-umph !" Auto found himself flat on his back again, with an elated god squirming on top of him. //Hmm..an eternity of this I can probably handle.//

Chapter VIII

Sometime later, Auto was transported into an unfamiliar room. He used the term 'room' loosely, since he was certain there were entire countries that would fit into places smaller than this. The thief cricked his neck trying to look up at the ceiling; it was tastefully decorated and supported by several enormous white pillars. The walls were draped with swathes of silk, also white. Auto glanced down - yep, that was white too.

"Lemme guess. Olympus ?"

Strife grinned and nodded.

"Well it's very-"

"White ?"

"Well, no. That's not exactly-" Auto froze. That wasn't Strife's voice. He span around and came face-to-face with a tall, dignified elderly man. How elderly was impossible to say; certainly his hair and beard were grey, but the skin was scarcely lined and the eyes were ageless.

"Zeus." The thief whispered, stunned.

Zeus smiled. "Welcome to Olympus, Autolycus."

"Uh ..Wha-Thank you."

"I take it that your presence here means that you have accepted my grandson's offer ?"

//Grandson.// Auto felt faint. He just about managed to nod his head.

"Wonderful." The King of the gods looked genuinely pleased. "And the other matter ?"

//Other matter?//

Strife cut in anxiously. "I..er..Well see, I haven't had chance to ask him yet."

"No ? Well perhaps you should." It wasn't quite an order, but Strife turned to Auto immediately.

"Well, it's kinda like as my consort, ya get the choice."

"Choice?" Auto repeated.

"Yeh. Like whether ya wanna be immortal or not."

Autolycus, the King of Thieves, didn't say anything. For a brief moment he didn't even move...not at all. He stopped blinking and apparently stopped breathing.

Then he collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs.

Moving with godly speed, Strife caught his lover and lowered him gently to the ground. He sat, with the thief's head in his lap, stroking Auto's face tenderly. Zeus watched from a discreet distance.

Auto blinked.

"Hey, Autee. Welcome back." Strife whispered softly. But his playful tone didn't hide the concern in his pale eyes. "Guess, I could have done that a little better, huh ?"

Auto looked at him. "No, it wasn't you. It was just a bit of a shock-" He stopped. "You *did* say immortality ?"

The young god nodded slowly.

"That's what I thought. You mentioned a choice ?"

"Well you don't *have* to drink it. But if you want to then you can."

"*It* ?"

"Ambrosia."

"Amb-" The thief paled even further.

"You're not gonna faint on me are ya Auto ?"

Auto took several, deep, fortifying breaths and sat up. "No. I think I'm fine." He got to his feet, accepting the hand that reached out to pull him up.

Only flinching a little when he realised it belonged to Zeus.

The King of the gods smiled at him. "You don't have to decide now Auto. The cup will be handed to you as part of the ceremony. If you choose not to accept immortality, then you simply hand the cup back."

"Right- Wait a minute ! *Ceremony *? !"

"Of course. All the gods will be summoned to Olympus to witness your joining."

"That's just the marriage part right ?"

Zeus smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Yes Auto."

Strife nudged his lover in the ribs.

"What ?! I just wanted to be sure. I mean you gods might do things differently."

Strife rolled his eyes indulgently.

Auto's mind had seized upon another part of Zeus' announcement. "Wait a minute - *all* the gods ? ! As in...." He couldn't bring himself to say the name.

Zeus nodded. "Don't worry. My son will be on his best behaviour."

Auto glanced at Strife and wasn't totally reassured by the look he got in return. //Well this should be fun.//

Chapter IX

The gods assembled quickly. Most out of a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. Dressed in a smart outfit of emerald green with a snowy white shirt, Auto peered out from behind a pillar. He was relieved that there was, as yet, no sign of either Discord or Ares. He wondered briefly if Strife would be upset if his mother didn't show, and then remembering Discord, decided probably not.

Zeus had told him he could invite anyone he wished. Auto had run through the brief list of his known associates, and shortened it even further to the few he called friends. From those he tried to pick any who would be happy at his upcoming nuptials to the god of mischief. It left just two, Salmoneos and Joxer. He wasn't sure he could trust the first to keep his mouth shut. And the second ? Auto had determined, from his relatively short acquaintance with the clutzy warrior, that Joxer had hidden depths, and a romantic heart. A late night talk after too much ale had revealed a lot about the workings of the young man's innermost thoughts. So, after realising Strife might be hurt if he didn't invite anyone to witness this event (and after deciding he could do with a little mortal support) Auto asked for Joxer.

And got him, albeit looking somewhat bewildered and befuddled.

"Hey Auto. What's-"

"Ssh. Look, there's really no time to explain. I need a best man. Are you up for it ?"

"*Me* ?!"

"Yes. *You*. Now do you want the job or not ?"

Joxer's whole face was bathed in happiness. "*Sure !* I mean I'd love to !" Confusion followed a moment later. "Who are you marrying ?" And then to himself. "Damn, I didn't bring a present."

"It doesn't matter, Joxer. You can get us something later."

"Oh. Okay."

Joxer allowed himself to be propelled into a small side room where a change of clothes lay waiting for him. The warrior fondled the fine linen shirt. "Hey this is really nice stuff." Then he frowned. "You didn't steal this did you ?"

"No. I didn't steal it !" Auto was indignant.

Joxer sighed in relief and began to change. "Well, that's good. Cos Xena and Gaby would be really peeved if I-" He stopped and looked around him. "Where are they ?"

"Who ?"

"Xena and Gaby."

"They're not here."

Joxer frowned. "But I was with them. We were going to Corinth."

Auto sighed. "Look they're not invited okay. We wanted a quiet affair." //Quiet, yeah right ! Just me, Strife and all the gods of Olympus !//

Joxer didn't look very happy about the thief's explanation but he finished dressing anyway. "So, who's the lucky girl ?"

"Strife."

"Wha-! Where ? !" The warrior span around in a mild panic.

Auto grabbed him. "Not *where*. *Who*. That's who I'm marrying. Strife."

Joxer blinked several times but didn't seem capable of saying anything.

The thief tightened his grip a little. "Look, I'll make it easy. No I'm not in any trouble. No this isn't a scam. Strife and I are getting married - to each other. Because we want to. Okay ?"

The warrior nodded.

"Good, cos I think it's time." Auto glanced outside. In the main hall the gods had stopped milling around and were assembling in what appeared to be pre-arranged places. Zeus stood at the top of slightly raised dais. As Auto watched Strife appeared at he bottom of the dais' steps. The young god had shunned his usual extreme attire in favour of skin tight black leather trousers, high boots and a white open-necked shirt. He looked, Auto thought, absolutely gorgeous.

He also looked a little anxious as he scanned the room, clearly looking for the thief.

Not wanting to keep his lover waiting Auto stepped out into the great hall, pulling a slightly stunned Joxer along with him. Ignoring the stares and the whispers of the other gods, Auto kept his eyes fixed on the only god that mattered to him and walked over to join his betrothed.

The anxiety fled from Strife's face as Auto approached.

They stood side by side. However, before either of them could speak, there was a brilliant flash and Ares appeared behind Auto.

The god of war jabbed his finger savagely at the thief. "*That* belongs to me !" He growled, eyes blazing.

A murmuring clamour rose up as all the gods began to speak at once. The din was silenced by one softly spoken word.

"No."

Strife had moved to stand between his Uncle and his lover.

Ares' face contorted with rage. He stared at his nephew, clearly unable to believe that the young god had dared to challenge him.

Auto would normally have been indignant about being 'protected' in such a fashion. But with the god of war looking like he wanted to tear him limb from limb, the thief decided he could cope with a little 'coddling'. His main concern now was for his lover. Auto looked at Zeus.

The King of the gods was paying close attention but he didn't seem about to offer any assistance.

"*W h a t d i d y o u s a y ? !*" Ares' voice shook with anger.

"I said no." Strife's voice, by contrast, was perfectly calm. "You can't have him."

Auto watched nervously as Ares' expression became apoplectic, the veins on his forehead standing out like blue serpents. Now *that* couldn't be a good sign. Again, Auto glanced across anxiously at Zeus, who had a faint smile upon his face. The thief wasn't sure *what* that meant.

"I have chosen Auto as my consort." Strife continued quietly. "If you raise your hand against him you must answer to-"

"Me," another voice cut in softly.

//Yess. Finally.// Auto moved closer to his lover, who shared a quick look with the King of the gods.

Ares looked at his father in disbelief. "You can't offer immortality to this...this *thief* ? !" he spluttered.

"I can't ?" Zeus' voice had an odd inflection to it.

Auto watched as the other gods swapped uneasy glances. Ares paled a little.

The thief realised that with his words Ares was challenging Zeus, albeit unthinkingly. //Hmm. Not a smart move.// Auto tried and failed to curb his smug look.

"I mean....I mean..." Ares was floundering, an unusual sight, and one which Auto was savouring. He got the feeling he wasn't alone.

"Father ? !" The god of war whined uncharacteristically.

Zeus ignored his son and walked down the steps to stand level with Strife and Auto. He took hold of Auto's hand and then reached for Strife's. He joined the two together, placing the young god's on top of the thief's. Zeus smiled at Strife and gave him a nod of encouragement.

Strife swallowed nervously and turned to face the rest of the gods. "I stand before you to acknowledge that I take Autolycus as my consort." He looked back at the thief. "To you I offer the position of consort. Do you accept?"

Auto blinked. He had no idea how a god got betrothed to a mortal, but he certainly hadn't been expecting any questions. He'd sort of assumed the god did whatever they wanted and the mortal just went along with it. He glanced at Zeus hoping for some kind of a clue. //What do I say here ? !//

When it was clear no help was going to be forthcoming, the thief cleared his throat. "I-I accept." It seemed to be enough. There was a collective sigh of relief from all around him and Strife grinned.

Zeus walked back up the handful of steps, collecting a cup from an alcove. It was plain unadorned gold, a little tarnished. Not the sort of thing to catch a thief's eye. Which was probably just as well since this particular goblet belonged to Zeus.

The King of the gods came back and wordlessly handed the cup to Strife, who accepted it with both hands. Strife took a sip and then handed the cup to Auto, his pale eyes never leaving the thief's. Auto took it carefully. He heard Ares' sudden sharp breath but didn't dare turn to look. Instead he focused on Strife, not difficult by any means. He could see the love in those incredible blue eyes.....and the fear. Not a fear of Ares, but of Auto; fear that the thief would reject what Strife was offering - his love and his companionship for all eternity.

//Eternity//. It *was* a daunting prospect, no doubt about it. Auto searched his heart and made his choice. Raising the cup to his lips he drank deeply.

There were simply no words to describe the taste. It was fiery hot and icy cold, bitter and sweet, rich and pure. He swallowed and felt it coursing through his body - changing him, transforming him, making him immortal.

Somewhat dizzily he gave the cup back to Zeus, who returned it to the alcove.

Then the King of the gods turned back to face them. "Strife and Autolycus are now joined for all eternity. With my blessing." He looked down and smiled at them both warmly.

Someone at the back gave a little cheer.

"Kiss ! Kiss !" This from Aphrodite, who stood beside her son.

Flushing, Auto leaned toward his new husband. Strife's arms immediately pulled him close and the two shared a deep kiss. //Oh yeah, baby.// This was right.

There was a squeal of delight from the vicinity of the goddess of love.

When they finally broke apart, Cupid was grinning and Aphrodite was bouncing on her toes. The other gods looked bemused, but on the whole most looked satisfied, if not exactly pleased with the turn of events.

As someone - Aphrodite ? - showered them with flower petals, Ares gave a wordless growl of fury and disappeared.

"Oooh. I think you burst his bubble." Aphrodite giggled.

Auto tensed. Zeus lay a hand upon the thief's shoulder and Auto looked up. Something he saw in that timeless gaze reassured him, and he relaxed again.

Cupid stepped forward and slapped his cousin on the back. "Time to party !".

Chapter X

One thing about the gods of Olympus, they knew how to celebrate. Well, Auto mused, catching a glimpse of Hades skulking behind a pillar, *some* of them any way. The three Graces had latched onto Joxer. Having cornered the mortal beside the buffet table, they were whispering things to him which made the young warrior blush and pale in turns.

Auto's gaze sought out his lover, smiling when he spotted Strife dancing with Cupid and Psyche. The god of mischief was weaving in and out between the giggling couple. Strife saw him watching and blew him a kiss, sending it with a look so hot, Auto suddenly wished for a less public venue.

"Walk with me."

Auto jumped and turned around. Behind him stood Zeus. It wasn't the kind of invitation one could refuse, but Auto was apprehensive. He glanced over at his lover nervously, but Strife's attention was on his dancing partners.

"Come along, Auto. It's alright." Zeus was already moving away. The thief sighed and followed.

They left the noise and activity of the dance floor far behind them as they moved out of the hall, stepping through an archway into a small paved garden. Against one wall was a seat, surrounded by pots and urns holding sweetly fragrant flowers and brightly coloured shrubs. Zeus sat down and looked at Auto. "Please," he waved a hand toward the place beside him. Trying to steady his nerves Auto took the proffered spot, sitting nervously, his hands clasped in his lap.

"Nice place."

Zeus smiled. "Thank you. I'm afraid I'm a little...too old to appreciate all that noise and carfuffle. But the young ones seem to enjoy it."

Auto just nodded, and the silence span out between them.

Zeus broke it. "He cares for him, you know."

"Huh ?" //Oh ,*way* to impress Auto. Could you *sound* any more dumb ? ! //.

"Ares," Zeus explained. "He does care for Strife." At Auto's sharp look, Zeus carried on. "Oh, I know it's hard for you to understand. But you have to appreciate that it's difficult for the god of war to express his feelings."

Auto felt a spike of anger. //I don't know. He does just fine with the homicidal mania.// He was aware that Zeus was waiting for him to offer some kind of response. "What ? So, you're saying Ares is really deeply fond of Strife ? He's just hiding it behind that *prickly* exterior ? !" Disbelief coloured his tone.

Zeus' mouth curled up a little in bemusement. "Essentially ? Yes."

Auto momentarily forgot he was sitting next to the King of the gods and snorted in disbelief. He wanted to ask if Zeus knew just how Ares displayed his supposed fondness. Then he recalled all those stories and ballads that the likes of Gaby were so fond of rattling off. How Zeus, or indeed any god, rarely took *no* for an answer. *Unwilling lovers* were, it seemed, par for the course for those of a divine persuasion. Zeus undoubtedly not only knew of Ares *activities*, he also accepted them.

It was a stark reminder of the differences between god's and mortals. The latter might indulge in acts of terrible cruelty, but such behaviour would never be condoned by anyone of a reasonable nature.

Auto glanced back up at Zeus, who was waiting patiently for the thief to process this information. The god's expression saddened. "Auto, my son *is* war. He can never truly understand love or affection. For him to even feel compassion would be....disastrous."

Auto thought about it. He sort of understood. Ares *had* to be brutal. It was the nature of war.

"However, " Zeus continued, "it might be possible for him to learn...*restraint* ?" He looked at Auto closely. "With *your* assistance."

"Me ? !" Auto's voice rose in disbelief. "You want *me* to teach *Ares* self-control ? !"

Zeus didn't answer.

Auto continued to babble. "I mean, " he explained hastily, "I'm not exactly known for resisting temptation myself !"

"No." Zeus agreed. "But you do care for Strife, and you will help him. Yes ?"

There was no mistaking the tone of command and Auto nodded weakly. "Yes."

Zeus lay an arm around the crest-fallen thief's shoulders. "After all, one should look after ones family."

"Huh ?" Despondent at the thought of Ares, it took a moment for Auto to take in what Zeus had said. When he did, his head shot up and he pinned the god with an incredulous gaze. Wait a moment, *family* ? !....*He* was family. He was Zeus'....well, he supposed he was Zeus' grandson-in-law. That meant....Oh gods, *Discord* was his mother-in-law !

"Oh, she's not so bad, once you learn how to handle her. Ares can help you with that."

Auto was still floundering, when his brain finally kicked in and pointed out that Zeus had just read his mind.

"Of course. I *am* the King of the gods."

//Great.//

"Don't worry about it Auto."

"*Me*. Worried ? ! Not for a minute." Auto bluffed.

Zeus' mouth twitched to hide a smile. "Now, regarding certain other matters."

"Other matters ?"

"Shall we say, your tendency to pick-up items which don't really belong to you."

"Oh. *Those* other matters."

"Yes. Well, it might be an idea if you... ah.... curb those tendencies a little."

//No more thievery ?// Auto had never even given that a thought when he had accepted Strife's offer. A cold hard lump settled in his stomach. It wasn't that he *needed* to steal exactly. It was just something he was good at. Really good at. Something which gave him both the thrill of risk and the buzz of success. What else could he do ? He was a thief.

"I...I...." The words died in his throat.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed slightly. "I only said *curb* Auto. I'm not asking you to give up thieving altogether." Zeus grinned conspiratorially. "After all, it wouldn't do for the consort of mischief to be *too* well-behaved. However, it might be an idea if you refrain from stealing anything from another god."

"Believe me, that was *not* my idea !" Auto replied fervently.

"No. I don't believe it was."

"I mean, I-" Auto stopped abruptly and looked at Zeus. The god had a definite knowing twinkle in his eye. Auto suddenly realised that he had been set up by no less than the king of the gods himself. //Why that old, conniving...//

"Ah, ah. Careful Auto. I can read your mind."

Auto flushed scarlet and put a hasty dampener on his thoughts. Something else struck him. "Cupid, did he ?....."

Zeus shook his head. "No. Whatever is happening between you and Strife is entirely of your own devising."

"You're sure ? I mean you didn't...."

"You are doubting my word ?" Zeus asked mildly.

Auto looked aghast. "No ! No ! Not at all." He squirmed. "It's just so...unlikely...."

Zeus lowered his voice gently, leaning in toward the thief. "Is it ? Is it really ? Is it so strange that two lonely creatures with a talent for trouble should be drawn to one another ?"

//Lonely ?// Auto's mind caught on the word. He supposed he was. Or rather, he had been. "I love him, " he announced, to no-one in particular.

"Yes. I rather think you do." Zeus gave the thief a gentle push. "So perhaps you should go back to the party and tell *him* that."

Auto stood up slowly. He turned back to face the god. "I...I....Thank you."

Zeus smiled warmly. "You're very welcome Autolycus. Now run along.".

The thief did just that.

*************

As he re-entered the hall Strife rushed up to him.

"Hey. Where d'ya go. I was lookin' for ya."

"Oh, I think I just got the Olympian version of the *father / son-in-law* speech."

"Huh ? Oh." Strife grinned in comprehension. "Well, I'm glad ya back. Cuz I gotta tell ya, I'm about ready to blow this joint. Time to do a little partying of our own." The god wrapped his arms around Auto, rubbing his hips against the thief's suggestively.

Auto pretended to look unsure. "I don't know. I mean won't everyone be upset if we leave so soon- hmph !" He gasped, the breath driven out of his lungs as Strife pulled him close, the god's face almost touching his own.

"I hope you're playing with me, Auto ?" Strife growled.

Auto looked into his lover's eyes and saw lust, a touch of anger, and a little uncertainty.

He leaned in and captured Strife's lips in a bruising kiss. When they broke apart he shook his head. "Oh no," he whispered. "I'm not playing with you." He kissed Strife again, this time slow and gentle, covering the god's face in hot, tender kisses. "No games," he murmured."This is no game. I love you." He said it softly, but poured his whole heart into the words. "I love you," he repeated.

The noise around them fell silent and Auto knew without looking that they were back in Strife's room. Sure enough, as he was pulled down, he felt the soft brush of fur against his skin. Strife was murmuring something against his throat, it took a moment for Auto to make out the words. It was just one phrase repeated over and over....

"Love ya...Love ya....Love ya..."

He freed his arms and drew Strife's face up to his. He had never seen the god's expression so unguarded, the truth shining out of those pale blue eyes.

"You love me."

Strife wriggled a little, but didn't look away. "Yeah," he whispered.

"Say it."

"Huh ?"

"Say it." Auto demanded.

"I...I love ya."

The words had barely left Strife's mouth before Auto pounced, kissing the young god with the same bruising passion as before. Strife moaned with pleasure. He writhed against the thief and then flipped them both over, sitting up to straddle Auto's hips. The god waved his hand and their clothing vanished. "Just don't be saying nothin', " he gasped, "we can do slow later."

"Hmm....Later." Auto agreed, his fingers instinctively searching out Strife's nipple rings.

"Oh yeah. *Just* like that." Strife arched his neck, dropping his head back.

Auto whimpered at the sight, needing more, but effectively pinned - powerless beneath the god.

Strife grinned savagely. "I wanna ride ya." The bowl of oil appeared. Strife coated his fingers in it, and began to stroke Auto's straining hardness. The slow, teasing caresses threatened to drive Auto over the edge. "Ah, ah." Strife shook his head and drew his hand away. "Not yet."

"*P-pleeease*" Auto could barely speak.

Strife didn't say a word. He lifted himself up, took a firm grasp of Auto erection, and then lowered himself onto it.

Auto gave a strangled. "*Fuuuuck !*" His hands clenched the pelts, pulling out handfuls of fur.

Strife gave a strange boneless shudder. He dropped his gaze, his eyes burning into Auto's. "Love ya," he whispered. Then he began to move.

The thief bit his lip, tasting blood. He tried to buck upwards, needing to drive himself deeper, faster, further, into that tight, wet, velvet heat. But Strife was merciless, controlling both the tempo and rhythm. It was agony....it was torture....it was the most intense pleasure Auto had ever known.

Strife *had* to be stopping him from coming. There was no way he could be lasting this long, not with the young god rising and falling on his rigid length. The sight alone was enough to make the thief want to explode. He tried to speak....he wanted to come....he wanted it to end....he wanted it to last forever.

The god seemed to understand his wordless groan, suddenly increasing the pace. "Auto.." he gasped, and came, his muscles tightening like a silken vice around Auto's erection. With a shout Auto came too. They collapsed in a sweaty heap of tangled limbs. They both groaned as the thief slipped out of the god's body.

"Can...can," Auto gasped, still getting his breath back. "Can I have a moment before we try *slow* ?"

Strife giggled and buried his face into the crook of the thief's neck.

Auto was drifting somewhere between silence and consciousness, when he felt Strife stiffen beside him. He opened his eyes. With a cold shiver he recognized the blank expression on the god's face. "Ares ?"

Strife nodded. "He's calling for me."

Auto's mouth tightened. "He can wait." He rolled over, tugging Strife beneath him. "We have a honeymoon to enjoy."

Strife looked surprised, and then delighted. He giggled. "Oooh, I love it when'ya butch, " the god teased.

Auto frowned at him in mock annoyance and then silenced his giggling lover with a deep kiss.

Slowly, the giggles were replaced by soft cries of pleasure.

"Oh, yeah, just *there*....ummm...ohhhh......"

Epilogue.

Ares opened his mouth to bellow again, and then stopped, closing his jaw with an audible snap. It was obvious that Strife wasn't going to come. The very idea filled him with a blind rage, and another colder, quieter feeling. One he didn't like, and didn't dare look at too closely.

He threw himself onto his throne. He thought of summoning Discord, but quickly decided against it. She didn't have enough sense not to gloat, besides her voice annoyed him. Ares let his gaze drift around his empty throne room; it settled on his sword. Reaching for it, he cradled the weapon carefully on his lap. The blade comforted him as it always had, though he would never have admitted to it. A cloth appeared in his hand, and slowly, silently, the god began to polish his sword.

He didn't need Strife, he didn't need anyone.

He was war.

Maybe he could start up a conflict somewhere ? Nothing elaborate, just a little skirmish to take his mind off things. Not that he needed to of course.

Where should he...? Hmm, there was always that place on the coast. They were always spoiling for a fight. Maybe he could draw a few familiar faces into it, liven things up a bit ? Xena ? *Yes*, and that annoying little friend of hers...Gaby ? That was it, Gaby - A *warrior bard*. He snorted in disgust. Who else ? What about that irritatingly clumsy mortal ? The one who was always leaving offerings at his shrines and praying to him. Rather frequently in fact.

*Joxer*! Ares' mind supplied him with an image of the mortal dressed in ungainly armour. Something about the picture was wrong...but what ?

Then he remembered, Joxer had been at the ceremony, standing next to that... that... *thief* ! The god of war's face twisted into a snarl. Hurriedly he pushed aside all the unpleasant thoughts concerning his nephew and that...that...

He took a moment to control himself. Joxer, think of Joxer. For once the mortal hadn't been wearing his usual ill-fitting armour, instead he'd worn a cream shirt - plain, with laces at the neck. It had been open, revealing a tantalizing a glimpse of smooth pale skin. Then there had been those tight breeches, made from soft midnight-blue leather. Hmm, the would-be-warrior wasn't as skinny as he'd thought. His legs were really quite powerful-looking, slender, but muscular.

//Wait a minute !....// Why was he thinking of Joxer's *legs* ? !

Ares growled and stood up. The mortal was a skinny, useless....and then there was that irritating song he always sang. How did it go ? Oh yes. *I'm Joxer the mighty...* Ares snorted. //*Mighty* ! Yeah right ! // He had a sudden impression of the mortal, wistful face turned upward as he knelt beside one of Ares' shrines. What a surprise, the mortal was praying to be a better warrior. *Again*. Oh well, you had to admire his persistence. Even if it was futile. The god of war didn't take requests. He caught a glimpse of movement behind the mortal and frowned. He concentrated on the image, widening the picture in his mind. //*What the*..?//

It took only a moment to confirm his suspicions. *Bandits* ! In one of *his* Temples ! About to attack one of *his* loyal followers. Ares' earlier temper blossomed into something much more deadly. //And where were Xena and Gaby ? Didn't they usually keep an eye on Joxer ?// Throwing down the cleaning rag, Ares clutched his sword in a more purposeful grip. Since the two women were apparently occupied elsewhere, he supposed he had better do something. It wouldn't do for one of his followers to be cut down whilst praying. It might create a bad precedent. Still muttering he vanished.

Appearing before a *very* startled Joxer, who fell forward onto his face with a clatter.

"Wha-Ares ?"

"*Shut up*!" Ares snarled, raising his hand.

Joxer's eyes widened in horror and he cringed, waiting to be blasted into oblivion. To his utter shock the energy bolts missed him. He heard a strangled cry and risked peering behind him. Just in time to see a very rough looking individual turn into a pile of smouldering ash.

"Oh. Who were...umph !-" Joxer suddenly found himself suspended in mid-air, dangling from the god of war's clenched fist.

"I *said*, SHUT UP." The god bellowed.

Joxer just nodded, trembling from head to foot.

Ares was looking at him oddly. "Why do you wear this stuff ?" The god pulled at a piece of his armour. "It doesn't suit you."

//What ?// "Oh", was all Joxer could manage.

Ares shook his head in disgust, and dropped him. "That's better," he grunted.

Joxer looked down in confusion. His eyebrows rose when he realised he wasn't wearing his armour any more. Instead he was dressed in a rather nice white shirt and soft black leather trousers. "Oh....Thank you."

"Hmph," was all Ares said, but the god continued to look at him. Without a word Ares bent down and pulled the mortal to his feet. "Do you still want to serve war ?"

"*What* ? !" Joxer squeaked.

Ares shook his head in a - *why am I even bothering ?* - fashion. "I am war."

"Err...Yes, I know." Joxer wasn't quite sure what was going on here.

"So, do you wish to serve me ?"

Joxer recovered his wits. "Always," he said quickly.

Ares caught hold of the warrior's chin and drew Joxer's face close to his."In *whatever* way I demand ?"

Joxer might not have been a mighty warrior, or a demi-god, or a crafty hunter, but despite what some others thought, he was no fool. He recognized the look in Ares' eyes only too well. Though he wasn't quite sure he believed it. //Still.// "A-always," he managed.

Ares smiled, well it was more of a grimace, but Joxer thought it was probably *supposed* to be a smile. "Good." Was all the god said.

//Oh, boy.//

They both vanished in a brilliant flash................

............and what happened next is another story.

THE END