DISCLAIMER: As characters, Xena and Gabrielle, and any other entities borrowed from the show, Xena: Warrior Princess, belong to MCA Universal and Renaissance Pictures. As fantasies, they belong to us all. Though Gabrielle's diary is ongoing, this particular excerpt is a continuation of "Sunset Interlude" and completes the first session of "On the Couch."

Xena’s asleep. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her sleep so soundly, except the few times she’s gotten badly wounded and under the influence of some healer’s tonic. Usually she twitches and stirs all night, always on the alert, always tormented by one memory or another. Tonight, finally, she sleeps and I sit here under Orion and Cassiopeia wide awake, watching over her the way she watches over me every night. Her sleeping face in the firelight looks almost soft, and so beautiful she breaks my heart and fills it at the same time. I honestly didn’t think she was going to let me do it, let me open her up and really love her. Get that silly chain mail thing out of the way, for once. Bury my face between her legs and lap up her juices, lick her inside and out, fill my mouth with everything she had to give me. I wanted so much to serve her needs.

Zeus, the passion locked inside that tender flesh! She cried so much at first I was afraid I was hurting her. I’ve never heard her sob like that, like some wounded, cornered animal. Once or twice she tried to push my head away, but each time, I clamped down on her with my teeth, and that stopped her, thrilled her, actually, as though I’d touched her with a live spark. Finally she started to give in to the pleasure, I felt it like a warm gush in my mouth. Then the crying stopped and the rage started. That’s the only way I can describe it, rage mixed with passion. Almost like a woman giving birth, she was totally focused on that one act, her thighs like iron vices around my head, a loud hissing sound that grew more and more ragged the deeper I used my tongue. “Gabrielle!” she kept gasping. “Gabrielle!” Each time she said my name, a shudder ran through me, my nipples rubbed raw in the sand.

And then her hips started to move, to hump against my face faster and faster, hands clawing at my hair, until finally her whole backside lifted off the sand and my neck almost snapped between her legs. Even with my ears caught in the grip of her thighs, I heard the sound she made. Like the howling of a wolf struck down by a hundred arrows. Sheer pain, surprise, and the release of fear in that one sound. It terrified me more than her battle lust.

Afterward she loved me with such gentleness it almost didn’t feel like Xena touching me. It was as if in giving herself to me she had lost some of her confidence, but I held on to her, ran my fingernails across that broad muscled back of hers and reminded her that she wasn’t finished proving herself to the Amazon Queen. “You’ve still got the last test,” I whispered before latching onto her earlobe with my teeth. I guess that did it. The minute I felt her inside me, pumping me hard into my own ecstasy, I knew I was home. It felt different this time, more like a reward for a job well done. Finally, I get to do my job.

Better roll up my scroll and put out the fire, now. I wouldn’t want to wake her out of that deep slumber. I know I won’t be able to sleep, my heart is too unsteady, but I’ll just tuck myself into the blanket, under her arm, so she doesn’t forget that I’m here. I don’t want her to sleep so soundly she forgets to do her job. Maybe I just want her to hold me while she rests, while I inhale her scent on my fingers, her essence on my tongue, better than henbane or mead. Gods, I hope I know what to do with the trust she’s given me tonight.

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