Disclaimer:
Neither of our heroines, dead or alive, belongs to me in any shape or form. They
remain the sole possessions of their creators at Renpic and the folks at
Universal/MCA, and here’s hoping they get them out every now and again to give
them a little dusting prior to their triumphant return to a screen large or
small.
Warnings:
This was my first ever ‘alt’ story, and boy, was I nervous about writing
even these incredibly mild descriptions of love between women. Sometimes I am
such a guy.
Note:
This was written about in early 1998 and is set near the start of the third
season, pretty much immediately pre-rift saga (nice to think of classic X+G and
the warm and fuzzy feelings I got when the show was new to me). I’m giving it
an airing again now because Lunacy was kind enough to give it a review all those
years ago, and the review is still online even though the story vanished some
time ago – so I thought it was a good idea to rescue it from the vale of lost
Xenafic. And besides, I’m behind on the next story in my post-FIN ‘Am I
Really Who I Am?’ series. J
Dedication:
This one started when I was e-mailing Charmer about my very first story and she
commented on one of the worst aspects of Xena stories, both canonical and fan
fiction. It occurred to me that even bad things can be turned to useful
advantage. So - Charmer, this one was for you, and I even quoted you briefly.
Hope you didn’t mind taking the rap. You’re still one of the finest that the
Xenaverse ever produced.
Very Like A Whale
By Mike
The
hot afternoon sun beat down on the landscape, and there was only the slightest
of breezes to cool the heat that radiated from the bodies of the two women as
they lay on the grassy riverbank. The beauty of the landscape was surpassed only
by the beauty of the women.
Gabrielle
sighed. ‘Why can’t this moment last forever?’
Her
companion opened her eyes. ‘Why would you want it to last forever?’
‘Because
of the gorgeous scenery. Because of the weather. Because for the first time in
days my stomach is full. Because of the company.’
Xena
closed her eyes again. ‘Because then we wouldn’t have to get up and cross
the river?’
‘Mmmmm.
That too.’
‘Well,
there’s no hurry. We can stay here for a while yet. We aren’t due in Megara
till nightfall.’
Gabrielle
pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked at the dark woman. ‘Nightfall may
be quite a ways off, but it’s not forever, Xena. The word doesn’t have the
same - quality - somehow.’
Xena
was unmoved and unmoving. She spoke with infinite patience. ‘This is another
bard thing, right?’
Gabrielle
glared at her and lay back down on the softly yielding grass. She considered
sulking but realised that it wouldn’t get her anywhere, so she decided to try
again. Her voice was playful. ‘Xena, look at that cloud. It’s shaped like a
chakram.’
Xena
breathed deeply and opened her eyes again. She made a show of looking around her
while limiting her actual movements as much as possible. ‘No. Don’t see any
clouds shaped like a chakram.’
The
younger woman pointed. ‘There. The big cloud followed by the two smaller
ones.’
This
time Xena didn’t move at all. ‘Missed it. Never mind.’
Gabrielle
refused to accept the possibility of failure. ‘That one looks almost like
Argo. Look, you can see her ears to one side, and there’s her mane.
Incredible!’
Xena’s
voice was still less than enthusiastic. ‘Incredible, Gabrielle, truly
incredible.’
The
bard pursed her lips, made a mental note of how much she was suffering, and
determined to make Xena pay for it at some later juncture. She went on doggedly.
‘And - yes, it does! That curly one over there looks just like the design on
your breastplate! I don’t believe it!’
Xena
opened her eyes wide and folded her arms stiffly across her chest, replacing the
stress that until then had been oozing from her body. ‘Gabrielle, I realise
there must be a point to this, but what exactly is it?’
Gabrielle
looked daggers at her friend, stood, and placed her arms against her hips. Her
face was a picture of self-righteous outrage. ‘Point? Point? There is no point, Xena! I’m trying to create a mood
here - an atmosphere! Not a point!’
Xena
grimaced. ‘Still sounds like a bard thing to me.’
‘Yes,
alright, it’s a bard thing! Haven’t you been around me long enough to have
learned how to do the odd bard thing occasionally?’
Xena
frowned. ‘Why would I want to do that?’
‘Because
- because- ohhh, you’re impossible!’ Gabrielle prepared herself to walk off
in a temper, wondered if Xena deserved one last chance or if the effort simply
wasn’t worth it.
The
moment was perhaps fortuitously broken by the sound of clinking metal from
across the other side of the river.
Both
women looked up to see a band of six foully dressed, foully weaponed, foully
leering men of a distinctly foul type staring across at them. Even separated by
twenty feet of water and a few extra feet of grass, their rusty swords and bad
teeth were obvious. Their leader turned and grinned at his fellows. ‘Looky
here, boys. Two lassies for the taking!’ He laughed fiendishly, and was joined
in his exertions by the rest of the gang.
Gabrielle
was seething. ‘Not now! Why does
this have to happen now?’ She
clenched her fists.
Xena,
in contrast, looked almost happy. ‘Leave this to me, Gabrielle. It’s a
warrior kind of thing.’
Gabrielle
turned to stare at her companion. ‘What
did you say?’
Xena
looked at her. ‘I said ------’
‘I
heard what you said! And I don’t believe it! Xena - Xena, let me handle this.
Promise me you won’t interfere!’
Xena
was puzzled. ‘I can’t promise that. You could be killed.’
‘Alright
then. Promise me you won’t interfere unless it looks like I‘m going to get
seriously hurt!’
‘Gabrielle
------’
‘Promise
me! And then sit down. And be quiet. And watch me go to it!’
Xena’s
face was a mask of confusion. ‘What’s going on here?’
Gabrielle
glared as mightily as she was able at her friend. Xena held up her hands in
front of her. ‘I promise, I promise!’ She sat down on the grass.
Gabrielle
picked up her staff from beside her blanket and moved forward until she stood
fully at the edge of the river. She stood leaning on the weapon and stared
across the water at the six ruffians, who were about to begin their passage
across.
She
called out to them. ‘Excuse me. Before you come over and take advantage of our
womanly frailness, may I just interject a thought or two here - sort of get to
know you a little, help you to think through the situation, offer you a little
friendly advice?’ She smiled sweetly.
The
leader looked at her in surprise. ‘That’s a little unusual, isn’t it? I
mean, there isn’t usually much talking in these situations. Just a few raucous
laughs, a couple of battle-cries, and the screams of the helpless maidens.’
Gabrielle
nodded. ‘Yes, but we don’t have to be bound by convention, do we? There’s
lots of ways to do this. I mean, why go for clichés? We could have a bit of a
discussion, for instance - on, say, the declining number of people working in
the banditry trade these last few years. And the downwards turn in the quality
of the people going into the job.’ She raised her eyebrows invitingly.
The
head ruffian frowned. ‘That’s nonsense. Look at me and my lads here! As fine
a gang of roving cutthroats as you could find anywhere!’
Gabrielle
shrugged. ‘Exactly my point. Three years ago, there’d have been a lot more
competition for you, and being the finest gang around would have really meant
something. But now - you’re first in a class of so few and such poor quality,
it’s embarrassing!’ She smiled apologetically. ‘No offence intended.’
The
leader looked ready to explode. ‘Now just a minute there! You can’t-----’
He
was interrupted by one of his own men, a lanky individual wearing a soiled
eyepatch and carrying a particularly filthy-looking mace. ‘Actually, she’s
got a point, boss.’
The
leader turned to him slowly. ‘What did you say, Dacoitus?’
His eyes burned into his subordinate.
Dacoitus
returned the gaze thoughtfully. ‘I said she’s got a point. Y’know, when I
started out as a young footpad, the greats were just coming into business.
Blackfang’s dozen, the Milan Mountain gang, Hesiod’s hellions; and later on
there was Toxeus and his team, Deathbringer’s crew, the Morpheus outfit and
the Tartarus mob. And where are they all now? Dead, retired or in prison.’ He
shook his head. ‘When’s the last time there was a convention in Athens to
talk over bandit etiquette? When did you last meet up with another bunch of lads
on the road and have to fight them to decide who had first claim on the next
passers-by? It’s just not the same any more.’ He looked genuinely sad.
The
leader’s expression was getting steadily more disgusted. ‘We have a job to
do here, Dacoitus! Maybe things have changed, but that’s no excuse for us to
start acting all unprofessional! Now let’s get on with it. Forward, lads!’
Gabrielle
tut-tutted loudly, and sighed theatrically. The gang stopped in their tracks
again and looked at her. She sounded wistful. ‘I was just thinking of all
those brave men who’ve left the business never to return. Sad to be part of a
dying breed.’ She placed a heavy emphasis on ‘dying’.
Dacoitus
looked thoughtful; he turned to the man on his left. ‘Wasn’t it you who told
me that Toxeus killed his own men, Vandammedes?’
The
youngest of the party nodded grimly. ‘Xena the warrior princess met him in
Sisyphus’ kingdom and killed him, apparently. But you know what Toxeus was
like - didn’t let a little thing like death stop him. His lads didn’t want
to go up against Xena again, so Toxeus polished ‘em all off. That way they had
to help him in stopping Xena from rescuing Death from Sisyphus and sending ‘em
all to Hades. Didn’t succeed, though, and bandits have been dying ever
since.’ Suddenly he looked over Gabrielle’s shoulder at the seated figure of
Xena. ‘What’s your friend’s name, girlie?’
Gabrielle
was about to speak, but Dacoitus interrupted her. ‘And it was Xena who took
out Hesiod as well, wasn’t it? Apparently she took on his entire mob and
defeated them and then captured Hesiod to take him for trial.’
Vandammedes
looked puzzled. ‘But didn’t I hear Hesiod got trampled by a titan?
The
leader reluctantly decided to get involved in the discussion, interested despite
himself. ‘Yes - but Xena was involved in that, too. Seems some friend of hers
- an irritating little blonde protégé - released the titans accidentally, and
Hesiod was stupid enough to try bargaining with them instead of running away
when he escaped Xena’s clutches.’ A thought appeared to strike him, and he
looked at Gabrielle suspiciously. She stared innocently back at him, her smile
never wavering.
Another
gang member spoke up. ‘Surely Xena’s a little overrated these days? OK, so
she got lucky and took out a couple of the big boys. But I hear that since she
changed sides she’s gone all soft - doesn’t like to fight any more if she
can avoid it.’
Dacoitus
shook his head vigorously. ‘That’s not what I’ve heard, Ferretus. A few
months back there was this rumour going round that she’d been cursed with
madness and become an easy touch. The Tartarus mob bumped into her near
Amphipolis and thought they were onto a good thing but Xena beat ‘em all
without even making use of weapons for the most part. Apparently she could have
killed the lot of them, but she was so out of it she wandered off in the middle
of the fight and left them all lying around unconscious. Snaggleteeth himself
told me that one - said he was so ashamed to see all his men beaten by a raving
lunatic that he was giving up the business to earn an honest living as a
mercenary.’
Ferretus
frowned and worked hard at thinking the problem through. ‘Are you saying that
Xena’s responsible for all of the
retirements, trials and dismemberments of our highly esteemed rivals these last
few years?’
The
leader interrupted Dacoitus before he could answer. ‘No, that’s ridiculous.
What about the Milan Mountain Boys? It was all over the place about Xena being
days away from them helping out King Lias when they got arrested and thrown in
prison. They came up against that mystery man who beat ‘em all virtually by
himself - real ladies’ man apparently, brilliant swordsman, had a lot of us
worried when we heard about him. But he never took on anyone else, just dropped
out of sight. Called himself Joxer the Mighty, they said. Wonder what happened
to him?’
Dacoitus
was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ‘I heard he wasn’t completely on his own,
boss. When I was in prison in King Lineas’s jail for brawling last year I came
across a couple of the Milan lads awaiting trial. They told me this Joxer did
have some help - an irritating little blonde sidekick with a stick she used as a
weapon.’ Slowly he turned to face across the river and looked at Gabrielle.
She waved at him in a friendly fashion, still leaning on her staff.
The
leader wasn’t giving ground, however. ‘Alright then, let’s forget that
one. But what about Deathbringer and his crew? It was Hercules put them out of business when they ran into him near Amazon
country.’ His point made, he stood with hands on hips and beamed.
Ferretus
coughed in an embarrassed fashion. ‘Actually, that’s not true, boss.’
The
leader swung round to face the small bandit. ‘What do you mean?’
Ferretus
grinned in an eager-to-please fashion. ‘Well, it’s just that I ran into
Deathbringer in an inn over on the coast a few months ago. He told me that story
about how he and three of his lads went up against Hercules, and got pasted but
only after a gargantuan struggle. But he got a lot more drunk as the evening
went on - seems he’s been hitting the bottle in a big way since his crew left
him - and then he told me how it really happened. Seems Hercules was nowhere in
sight - instead Deathbringer and three of his lads came across this little
blonde thing all by herself and proceeded to ply their trade. Only she beat the
stuffing out of all four of them with a battle staff and then to add insult to
injury, this curly-haired little runt turns up and slaps Deathbringer around all
over again. Then they ran. Oh, and boss---’
The
leader was rubbing his eyes tiredly. ‘Yes?’
‘You
remember that rumour about Xena being dead about a year ago? Well, it seems this
little blonde was claiming to be taking Xena’s body back to Amphipolis.
That’s why Deathbringer had a go at her; he thought if the story was true, the
body might fetch a good price.’ He smiled, his story told.
Dacoitus
spoke again, with some real excitement coming forth in his words. ‘This is
very interesting! There seems to be an emerging theme here. Every time one of
the big boys goes out of business, it happens after they meet either Xena - a
big, bad, leather clad woman with lots of attitude - or this little blonde with
a stick. Or both. What do you think it means, boss?’
The
leader of the ruffians turned slowly to look at Gabrielle again. She winked at
him broadly and blew him a kiss. His gaze travelled to Xena, still sitting
further back on the grass, impassive and apparently not even listening. He
cleared his throat and called across to Gabrielle. ‘My colleagues and I are
going to confer before we proceed any further. We won’t be long!’ He walked
away from the river bank, rapidly motioning to his men to follow him. They
stopped fifty yards off, but despite the distance, Gabrielle could hear raised
voices and grumbling from the assembled half-dozen. Only a couple of minutes
passed, and then they began to walk back to the riverbank opposite her.
When
he was in place again, the leader called across the water in a supposedly
friendly fashion that actually sounded desperate rather than companionable.
‘Good news, girlie! It’s such a beautiful day that we’ve decided we’re
going to stop work early and er, - well, go for a walk or something! You and
your friend can be on your way!’ He gave a sickly smile.
Gabrielle
affected a thoughtful expression. ‘Well, that’s a start, I suppose. But
it’s not really enough. I mean, I’m ever so grateful that you’re not going
to attack us, but - well, there’s other people to consider, isn’t there?
I’d feel very bad if I let you walk away from here only to find that you’d
attacked the next travellers you’d met on the road. I couldn’t live with
myself if that happened. No, I’m afraid your careers are over.’ She nodded
emphatically.
The
bandits shuffled about, looking at each other uncomfortably. The leader tried to
speak once, found his words strangling in his throat, was more successful the
second time. ‘What - what do you mean?’
Gabrielle
waved a finger in the air. ‘It’s very simple, really. There are three ways
this can go. One: the way that Toxeus and Hesiod went - dead, and so irrevocably
out of business. Two: the way that the Milan boys went - imprisoned, and out of
circulation for a long time. Three: the way that Deathbringer and the Tartarus
mob went - retirement. And I hope you work a bit harder at finding gainful
employment than Deathbringer has -
if that’s the option you choose, of course.’
The
bandits looked at each other sheepishly. The leader glared hard at Gabrielle,
seemed unwilling to say anything, but Dacoitus nudged him and made a gesture in
Gabrielle’s direction. The leader cleared his throat again, and spoke in a
pained voice. ‘Well, business has been poor recently. And I wouldn’t mind
seeing my home village again. We’d, er - we’d like to retire, please.’
Gabrielle
beamed. ‘Excellent choice - so much better for all of us, I think. Now I want
you to split into pairs, and go off in three separate directions - two go west
along the river, two go east along the river, and the other two go back down the
path you came from the north. And in the morning you all have to leave your
partners and head off in different directions again.’ Her voice took on a
harder edge. ‘Oh, and
‘laddies’ - if my friend and I ever see two or more of you together again,
your options will be strictly limited.’ She made a shooing motion. ‘Now go,
go, go!’
The
six ruffians reluctantly split into three pairs, not without some harsh words
and a few obscene gestures towards each other. Finally sorted, they set off
towards the three points of the compass, looking back frequently towards
Gabrielle. She remained lazily leaning on her staff, and watched them for many
minutes until they had vanished into their respective distances.
Gabrielle
turned around and walked the few yards back to Xena. She stood before her
companion and looked down questioningly. ‘Have I made my point?’
Xena
refused to meet her gaze. ‘Which would be what?’ She was working hard at
sounding uninterested.
‘You
know very well what my point was!’
Xena
shrugged, spoke sulkily. ‘You mean that you’ve learned how to do warrior
things, and that I should be equally versatile and learn how to do a few bard
things?’
‘Yes!”
Xena
lay back on the ground and stretched out comfortably. ‘It’s not the same.’
She shut her eyes.
Gabrielle
exploded with rage. ‘Why do I bother? Why?’ She stalked off and took refuge
under the branches of a nearby tree, sitting back against the trunk and hunching
her body up stiffly. I’ll sit here until
she apologises, she thought. Until she
admits she’s unreasonable. Until she tells me I’m right and she’s wrong.
She breathed in deeply, closed her eyes, and prepared herself for a long wait.
There
was a sound to her left, and she
cautiously opened one eye. Xena had come to sit beside her. The bard held
herself as rigidly as possible, and pretended that she hadn’t noticed her
companion’s arrival.
Xena
spoke in a clear and friendly voice. ‘Gabrielle, have I ever told you that
you’re my heroine?’
Promising,
very promising,
Gabrielle thought. But she’ll have to
work a little harder than that.
She
felt a light touch on her shoulder and upper arm. Was that a moth? She looked
surreptitiously at the ticklish area out of the corner of her eye.
Xena’s fingertips! This is beginning to look good. Don’t fail me now, Xena.
She suppressed a smile.
There
was a long silence. Gabrielle wondered if Xena had given up, hoped that she was
thinking it through, that she had a final weapon with which to make victory
certain.
Xena
spoke, her tone playful and throaty. ‘Gabrielle, look at that cloud. It looks
like the bodies of two lovers entwined ------’
Gabrielle
laughed out loud, opened her eyes, and turned towards her partner. Slowly, she
placed her arms around the dark warrior and gazed hard into her eyes. ‘Xena -
Xena, I knew you could do it!’ Gabrielle leaned forward, eyes flashing, until
their lips met.
The
hot afternoon sun beat down on the landscape, and there was only the slightest
of breezes to cool the heat that radiated from the bodies of the two women as
they lay on the grassy riverbank. The beauty of the landscape was surpassed only
by the beauty of the women.
(Friendly
criticism sent to mrbacim@btinternet.com
is always welcome, and hopefully this ‘reprint’ wasn’t a waste of
everyone’s time. J. Many thanks for listening).