Archive of Our Own

“I’ll only be gone a few days,” Xena says, leaning down from Argo’s back to press a lingering kiss to Gabrielle’s lips. Even as she pulls away, Gabrielle refuses to let go of Xena’s fingers. Though it happens far less frequently than it used to, watching Xena leave never gets easier. Every moment she’s not with Gabrielle is one that she could fall without Gabrielle there to catch her, when she could bleed without Gabrielle there to staunch the flow. Gabrielle never sleeps well without her. All her dreams shift to nightmares about the thousands of ways she could lose Xena. Gabrielle tries to tell herself that she knows better than to be afraid. Xena can take care of herself.

But often, she chooses not to. That’s the part that worries her.

“Come back to me in one piece,” Gabrielle says, trying to keep levity in her tone and finding tenderness instead.

Xena gives her a crooked smile in return. “When have I not?”

“You don’t want me to answer that.” Gabrielle could name several times her warrior returned to her with wounds she concealed until she absolutely had to let them be seen, though she doesn’t think that listing all those moments would do anything but sour the terms on which they’re parting. No, better to let some things rest and hope they just never happen again.

With another kiss to Gabrielle’s temple, Xena murmurs, “No, maybe I don’t,” against her soft skin. “But I’ll do my best.” Something in Xena’s gaze shifts from warmth to urgency. Gabrielle dares to look over her shoulder and finds the sun creeping ever higher in the sky, a silent reminder that if Xena’s to make it to her destination by nightfall, she’d better get on the road.

Xena opens her mouth to wish Gabrielle goodbye. Gabrielle rises on her tiptoes to press two fingers to her lips, silencing her. In place of a real response, Xena flicks her tongue against them. Gabrielle squeals. She withdraws her hand. “Something to remember me by,” Xena says with a wolfish grin.

Though Gabrielle rolls her eyes, she can’t suppress her smile. “Go on. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll come back.”

Rather than speak again and draw out the agony of parting, Xena urges Argo off toward the rising sun. Gabrielle watches her silhouette fade and stays a little longer after she’s gone. She doesn’t let herself get upset. The moment she starts to fear (more than usual) that this is going to be the time that Xena doesn’t return to her, she worries that she’ll manifest it into reality. She told Xena once that she had the gift of sight; she’s never had the chance to really hone it, and she can’t always distinguish between a vision and a nightmare. She’d prefer not to find out which is which by being wrong about Xena.

As she turns to go back about her day, a gentle warmth washes over her, like she’s stepping into the sunlight after spending too much time in the coolness of the shade. Gabrielle huffs. “I know you’re there, Aphrodite,” Gabrielle calls into the morning air.

She hears the goddess’ voice before she sees her. “Aw, man.” With a sparkling flourish, Aphrodite appears in front of her. Gabrielle rolls her eyes. “I really thought I had you this time!”

“Try again next time.” As exasperated as Gabrielle pretends to be, she can’t hide how she enjoys the way the goddess has taken a bit of a liking to her. After all, if Xena gets to have her fun with Ares and be his little favorite (even if the beginnings of that were far more sinister), why shouldn’t she get to keep the goddess of love in her back pocket, ready to call upon at a moment’s notice? Besides, it’s nice to have a friend who’s so in touch with her emotions. Even after all their time together and all the different forms their relationship has taken, getting Xena to admit the depths of her feelings is like trying to pry her teeth out with her bare hands.

“So you admit you want to see me again?” Aphrodite flashes a brilliant smile. “I didn’t know you had it in you – thought you were way too head over heels for the warrior babe –”

Gabrielle holds up one hand. “I’ll stop you right there.”

“You’re no fun.” Aphrodite sticks her tongue out.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” She tries to turn on her heel and head the opposite direction, not terribly interested in dealing with Aphrodite and her antics. Aphrodite re-materializes in front of her. Right in front of her. If Gabrielle had kept walking, she would’ve plowed directly into the goddess’ delicate form. Gabrielle plants her hands on her hips. “I have things I need to get done today.”

“Chillax, Gabrielle! Can I not bring a birthday present to my favorite mortal?” With a snap of her fingers, a little box appears in her hands, complete with a little ribbon tied around the top. She offers it to Gabrielle with what seems to be a perfectly genuine grin.

Gabrielle still eyes the present like it’s going to come to life and bite her. “What’s the catch?” The idea of Aphrodite bringing her a birthday present isn’t entirely foreign. That’s a perfectly normal thing for friends to do, even when those friends do happen to be the goddess of love. It’s the nature of the gift that worries her. The last time Aphrodite brought her something, she ended up with three naked versions of herself roaming the Greek countryside chased by her partner after a full day of fishing. Not precisely her definition of a perfect day.

Aphrodite presses her chin to her shoulder, her eyes squinting up to convey the picture of innocence. “There’s no catch. Open it!” She punctuates the sentence with a little clap.

Often, Gabrielle’s found, it’s easier to just do what Aphrodite wants and deal with the consequences later. She deems this one of those times. Forcing a smile, she tugs the ribbon from the box and hands it back to Aphrodite, who immediately ties it in her hair. Gabrielle lifts the lid – only to find her own face staring back up at her, surrounded by a whorled, gilded frame. A mirror.

Gabrielle extracts the mirror from the box, testing the feel of it in her hand. It weighs more than she expects, and she runs her fingers along the golden edges. They still glisten even after being touched. Though she can’t quite understand the intention– she hasn’t allowed herself vanity since the time Aphrodite cursed her with it, and she’s afraid of what would become of her if she played into it again – she can’t deny that it’s one of the most beautiful things she’s ever laid eyes on. When she offers Aphrodite a gentle smile, she finds that there’s no artifice in the gesture. “Thank you. Really.”

“And I haven’t even told you the best part yet.”

Gabrielle’s heart drops. There it is. “I thought you said there wasn’t a catch?”

Aphrodite looks caught. “Well, it’s not a catch, necessarily. Think of it more like… a special feature?” Gabrielle raises her eyebrows. Her idea of fun doesn’t always align with Aphrodite’s. She’s learned that in the time that they’ve known one another, and truly, the prospect of learning more about this potential difference frightens her. Still, she gestures for Aphrodite to go ahead and speak her mind. “Look, I made two of these things, alright? I’m dropping the other off with your lover here in a little bit.”

“Lover?” The word sounds so crass coming from Aphrodite that Gabrielle can’t help but repeat it back to her. It’s not that she shies away from calling Xena that herself; in fact, she finds it far more all-encompassing than partner and far less juvenile than girlfriend. There’s just something so salacious about the way Aphrodite delivers it. Makes her feel like nothing more than a teenager blind with desire.

Aphrodite shrugs. “Would’ve thought you’d prefer if I didn’t say her name. Possessive as you are.” Gabrielle scowls. She loathes when Aphrodite’s right. It always goes right to her head. “But once I get this to her, you’ll be able to see whatever she’s got this baby pointed toward. Works both ways, too. You set this thing up, and whatever the mirror sees is what your warrior babe’s gonna see from you. Juicy, right?”

Gabrielle has to admit, the prospect’s enticing. She trusts Xena. Never once has she doubted the other woman’s loyalty, possessive as she may be sometimes. Still, the idea of being able to see what Xena’s doing – and moreso, of Xena caring enough about her to welcome her into the parts of her life that she isn’t there to witness – is enough for her to flash Aphrodite a smile and say, “Well, thank you.”

“See. Told you that you’d like it.” Aphrodite’s grin, if possible, widens. “Hold onto it. I’ve got to take your girl hers. I’ll be back once it’s delivered.”

Before Gabrielle can speak again, Aphrodite vanishes like she was never there at all. No doubt off to bother the living daylights out of her lover, as it may be.

At the very least, it should be interesting. She tells herself that, repeating it like a mantra, as she goes about her day.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Nothing really surprises Xena anymore. She’s seen her fair share of things that would make the average mortal fall flat on their faces out of pure shock. Having a brief tryst with a god who’s decided to make you his protégé tends to do that to people, after all.

But still, when Aphrodite materializes right in Argo’s path, it catches her a bit off guard – even if just because she would’ve assumed that in her countless years, Aphrodite would have a bit more sense than to turn up right in front of a horse. She veers off the road, letting out a frustrated groan. “Aphrodite!” she snarls through gritted teeth.

“Xena!” If the goddess notices Xena’s ire, she disregards it. “I just paid your sweetheart a little visit - ”  

Something flares in Xena at this, though whether it’s frustration or jealousy she’s not quite sure. “Wonderful,” she mutters under her breath as she hops down from Argo’s back.

“Just to deliver her birthday gift! Nothing to worry about!” Aphrodite chirps, trying to cover her tracks. Xena has to appreciate the effort, if nothing else. At least she recognizes that she’s interfering in a relationship that she doesn’t really have a place in. Ares rarely has the decency to even apologize for trying to drive a wedge between the two of them; he just offers that infernal grin and goes on with his day. “Which is what brings me to you!”

“Great.”

With a snap of her fingers, a golden-wrapped box appears in the goddess’ hands. It’s flawless. Even the tails of the bow are the same length. Too flawless. Suspicious. Xena narrows her eyes at it, then offers it back to Aphrodite. “It’s not my birthday.”

“But it’s Gabrielle’s.” She says it like it’s a conclusion Xena should’ve come to on her own.

“Hers was yesterday. You missed it.” She waves the box in front of the goddess, hoping the movement will distract her and she’ll either take the present back or leave so Xena can dispose of it without offending her. Though she can’t say she concerns herself with what the goddess of love thinks of her, she’d prefer not to upset her if she can help it.

“It’s called being fashionably late. You should look into it sometime! Really adds to your public image.” There’s that tone again, stating something absurd like it should be common knowledge. Xena bites the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something that might land her in trouble with the divine (again). “But I’ve got places to be that I can’t be late for. Just go ahead and open the box, will you? Humor me.”

Xena scowls, but tears at the paper. Aphrodite makes a horrified face. “You know, Gabrielle took much more care with this than you did. Ripping it apart like some animal. I worked hard on this, you know.” Her grimace transforms into a pout, complete with wide eyes like those alone would convince Xena to re-wrap the present and take more care with it on her second try. Not a chance. This conversation’s already gone on much longer than she really intended. Best to get back on the road before anything else can happen.

Rather than dignify this with a response, Xena extracts the mirror from the box, holding it by the edge like it’s going to come to life and bite her if she dares to run her hand along the glass. “What, is there something in my teeth?” Xena asks, holding it up and baring her teeth at the mirror, narrowing her eyes as she tries to conduct a thorough investigation.

Aphrodite swats at the mirror, pushing it away. “Are you crazy?” she hisses. “You really want Gabrielle to see you like that?”

“She’s seen worse.” The full weight of the comment registers with Xena. “Hold on. You’re telling me Gabrielle can see me right now?” One of her hands moves up as if to adjust her hair. Has the wind blown her bangs awry? She’s been riding all day – is she flushed? Or worse – has she gotten sunburnt? She chances a glance down at her chest and doesn’t find a solid answer, which only frustrates her more.

Aphrodite nods. “Great stuff, isn’t it? Anything this mirror sees, Gabrielle gets to watch from wherever she is. Anywhere in the world! It’s got great reception. Only the best for my favorite girls.”

Xena considers this for a moment. As much as she hates to admit it, the idea of getting to mess with Gabrielle a little bit while she’s gone does appeal to her. The more comfortable Gabrielle gets in their relationship, the more she’s able to discover new things about the other woman – new pieces of her to love. This mirror might just be the window she needs to find a few more. “It could be fun,” she concedes, unwilling to let Aphrodite know just where her mind’s wandered off to.

“See? I have good ideas sometimes.”            

“Sometimes.” It’s the most satisfaction Xena can grant the goddess without veering close to worship, and the only person she’s willing to worship is a little blonde bard whose wrote all the scriptures to their religion of two. A hesitant moment passes before, “Anything else?”

Aphrodite shakes her head. “I guess you have places to be, don’t you?”

She vanishes before Xena has the chance to respond, leaving the warrior with nothing but a reportedly magic mirror to prove that she’d ever been there at all.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As much as she hates when Xena’s gone, Gabrielle has to admit she tends to have far more productive days when her warrior isn’t around to distract her from the things that need doing (not that she ever has the heart to turn down one of Xena’s proposals, which might be part of the issue). Already, she’s filled up two scrolls and made it into town to restock – and managed to talk the price down two and a half dinars from the vendor’s initial listing. The sun still peers over the horizon, bathing the world in shades of orange and pink. Plenty of moonlight left to do a few little tasks that’ll make Xena’s life easier when she returns. The other woman takes such care to ensure that, any time Gabrielle leaves, she comes back to a world crafted just to make her smile. All she wants is to return the favor.

But for now, she bathes without fear that Xena’s going to sneak up behind her and make her desires known, undoing all the hard work she’s just done to get herself clean. She can’t help but miss the feel of her warrior’s hands wandering over her bare skin or wish for her aid reaching the spot on her back she just can’t seem to reach, but still, it’s nice to know that she can wash herself unimpeded.

Or so she hoped, at least. Gabrielle still has suds in her hair when that all-too-familiar warm feeling cascades over her. She stifles a groan. “Aphrodite, I’m a little busy!” she calls, shuffling around as if a change in position will be enough to get her into a less compromising state of dress.

Aphrodite appears, lounging in a pink chaise on the shore with a drink in her hand, before she even bothers to respond. “Oh, honey, I’m just enjoying the view.” Her eyes rove over Gabrielle’s toned abdomen, the budding muscles in her arms, the hair slicked away from her forehead. If she didn’t know better, she’d think this was Aphrodite making an advance of her own (though she knows better than to believe Aphrodite would ever let her advances be foiled by something as painstakingly mortal as monogamy).

“Not supposed to be your view to enjoy,” Gabrielle mutters under her breath, shifting again. She settles for sliding a little deeper into the water, leaving only her head peeking out above the surface. Maybe it’s worse to leave her body up to the imagination. She really can’t tell. All she knows for certain is that she’d prefer if the goddess wasn’t here when she decided to emerge, and the water’s getting colder as the moon rises in the sky.

“Without that mirror set up, you can’t even put on a little show for someone who would appreciate it even more than I would. Shame, isn’t it?” Aphrodite takes a sip of her drink, twirling the straw around with her tongue before catching it in her mouth. Gabrielle rolls her eyes.

“Xena’s busy. I wouldn’t want to distract her.” Gabrielle has no idea how accurate that is. Xena didn’t leave her with a line-by-line schedule of her plans for the day; when the other woman’s gone, she tends to assume it’s for a good reason and tries to move along without worrying about anything. The mirror made the temptation to do nothing but watch Xena all day far too strong. Best to avoid that, if she can. Xena would be insufferable when she got back if she noticed, all preening and reminding Gabrielle of how she can’t seem to keep her eyes off Xena for more than a minute at a time.

“Is she? Have you even bothered to check?”

“I was planning on it before you made it impossible for me to get out.”

Aphrodite lets out an incredulous little noise. “You’re missing my point. Totally not cool.”

“I’m aware what point you’re trying to make.” Gabrielle’s just avoiding it. She runs through a thousand different versions of how this could go in her head. What if Xena’s at some fancy dinner – not even in front of the mirror – and then she’s wasted all this effort and feels like a fool? What if Xena’s got the mirror sitting in front of her at the aforementioned fancy dinner and then the entire kingdom sees her naked? She’d never be able to accompany Xena there in the future – and worse, Xena would never let her live it down. Ever. Any time Xena got her out of her clothes, she’d find some way to throw in a sly reminder that there were probably countless men fantasizing about what they saw that night. It’s a level of torment she just can’t bring herself to bear.

Worst of all: what if she does all of this and Xena just doesn’t care?

“It’s…just not a good idea right now,” Gabrielle says, knowing good and well that it’s not nearly enough of an explanation to get the goddess off her back.

“Oh, really?” Aphrodite pulls the mirror from one of Gabrielle’s bags. She flips it so the lens faces Gabrielle. Rather than seeing her own face reflected, however, Xena lurks within the frame. She sits on the edge of an opulent black bed with an intricate headboard, sharpening her sword by firelight. Her biceps ripple with every movement of the stone against the blade. Every time she reaches the point, her eyes flick up.

This time, when her gaze meets Gabrielle’s, a playful grin crosses her face. Her eyebrows raise in a challenge. She leans back, her sword resting against one thigh, and folds her arms. And that infernal woman, she waits. When Gabrielle doesn’t immediately do her bidding, she tilts her head upward, keeping her eyes fixed on Gabrielle so that she’s now looking down at the other woman.

The corner of Gabrielle’s mouth twitches up into a mischievous smile, earlier hesitation abandoned. Fine. If this is how Xena wants to play. Gabrielle may not have started this game, but she’s happy to make a move.

“Aphrodite? A moment of privacy, please?” she calls toward the horizon. At the mention of the other woman, a little flicker of something – dare she call it possessiveness at its most primal? – plays in Xena’s eyes.

Aphrodite whines, “Aw, really? After all I’ve done for you, you won’t even let me stay and watch?” She offers her best puppy-dog eyes.

Gabrielle looks into the mirror, seeking Xena’s opinion. If knowing they had an audience would make this more pleasurable for Xena, then by all means, she’d get over her desire to keep her warrior all to herself. But Xena shakes her head, and thus, Gabrielle does the same. “Not this time.”

With a loud scoff, Aphrodite sets the mirror down so it’s still facing Gabrielle. She disappears into a spray of sparkles.

Once she’s sure they’re alone, Gabrielle goes in for the kill. Xena’s already watching her like that, like a lioness stalking her prey, making Gabrielle’s heart beat with such intensity that she’s sure the other woman will be able to see it through her skin as soon as it’s visible. The very thought of how Xena will react, the way she’ll lean forward like she’s trying to drink in as much of Gabrielle as possible, sends a bolt of heat through her. It settles low in her stomach, an insatiable hunger.

Good thing Xena’s always ready to let herself be devoured.

Gabrielle’s never shared Xena’s analytical mind, but she’s spent enough time studying how the other woman calculates angles and distance to know the exact length of the stride she needs to take to reveal just enough of her chest to drive Xena crazy. With a deep breath, she takes a single step forward, drawing out the motion. She keeps her eyes fixed on Xena, her chin tilted slightly upward to mirror the other woman’s expression, as she moves just enough to reveal the swell of her breasts. The night air dances across her now-exposed wet skin. Goosebumps threaten to burst forth.

Just as Gabrielle predicted, Xena leans forward at the sight of her, at the water lapping at the places Xena no doubt wishes her tongue could caress instead. The warrior lets out a quiet, heavy sigh. The heaving of her chest betrays her pitiful attempt at maintaining her composure.

Another step forward reveals more of Gabrielle. She waits for another moment, letting Xena’s eyes wander over her abdomen like she’s trying to memorize the shape of the muscles beneath the skin (like she hasn’t already paid them enough attention that Gabrielle thinks Xena could sculpt them from clay with her eyes closed). Her hand flexes, then settles on the edge of the bed, nails digging into the blankets. If Gabrielle closes her eyes, she can feel that hand wrapping around her waist instead. Even the imagined sensation is enough to draw a whimper out of her.

“Like what you see?” Gabrielle asks, relishing in the huskiness of her own voice and the knowledge that the very sound of her arousal earns another sigh from Xena. She moves just enough that the water rests right above the thatch of blonde hair that Xena seems to adore so much.

“Gabrielle,” Xena breathes from the other side, soft enough that Gabrielle can’t tell if she even meant to speak. She rises the rest of the way out of the water, then strides closer to the mirror. Gabrielle runs her hands through her still-dripping hair, stretching just enough to push her chest outward. When she dares to look over at Xena, she catches the other woman’s gaze flitting between her breasts and her hair, then down to her center with a hungry look in her eyes. “Gods, Gabrielle,” she says again as Gabrielle stretches (more for the glory of showing off than any real need).

Gabrielle cocks her head, playing at innocence. “What?”

“You know what.”

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Gabrielle flashes a cheeky smile as she reaches for the fur she designated as her towel, wrapping it around herself like a dress and depriving Xena of her favorite sight.

“Teasing’s rude too, you know,” Xena says in a harsher mimicry of Gabrielle’s tone.

Gabrielle rolls her eyes. She runs another hand through her hair for good measure. Xena’s thighs press against each other in response, an almost imperceptible shift. “Now, if you’re done ogling me, some of us have things to do tonight. You’re supposed to be handling some diplomatic crisis anyway. Much more important than watching me bathe.”

“No such thing,” Xena says. It takes all Gabrielle’s resolve not to melt at the compliment. But her time with Xena’s made her strong, even if just because her lover always errs on the side of softness once Gabrielle finally acquiesces and ends their little games.

“Very sweet.” She’ll grant Xena that much satisfaction. “But I do have a few things to do before bed. And I should be wearing clothes for most of them. I’ll talk with you later?”

“Fine.” Xena flips the mirror around before Gabrielle has the chance to even bid her goodbye. She curses under her breath.

Leave it to Xena to insist on things being on her terms, even when she’s clearly clay in the other woman’s hands.

No matter. Gabrielle will find another way to unravel her. Control will be hers yet.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Spring should be on the horizon, and yet, Gabrielle can’t seem to get warm without Xena there to hold her close. The warrior’s absence allows her to take all the furs for herself, piling them until she can’t move under the weight, and yet she shivers. The fire crackles right next to her face, so close that if her hair was still long, she’d fear it would catch, and the air still nips at any exposed skin it can find. Perhaps this is her penance for showing off so much earlier. She wouldn’t put it past Xena to create some sort of alliance with Aeolus just to make her freeze.

So, she tosses and turns under the furs, the rustle of them against her skin starting to irritate her. Perhaps it’s because of this that she misses the bothersome little tingle at the base of her neck, and why it startles her out of her skin when a voice behind her calls, “Can’t sleep?”

“Haven’t you had enough of me yet?” Gabrielle calls, not even bothering to roll over. Gods, if she’d known Aphrodite was so clingy, she would have sought a different goddess’ favor.

“Of you and your delicious little warrior? Never.” Gabrielle finally bothers to roll over. Sure enough, there’s Aphrodite, lounging on a ridiculously large bed with a lush pink comforter and matching pajamas – if she could even call them that, really. “Anyway, you seemed lonely. And it would be so rude of me to leave you here by yourself.”

“Well, I was going to write. I get some of my best work done when I can’t sleep.” It’s not a lie, even if it is really just a way to get Aphrodite off her back.

“About Xena?” She waggles her eyebrows like Lila would when she was teasing her older sister about some village boy whose unwanted attention she had to turn down. Gabrielle rolls her eyes.

“Maybe. I was working on one of our stories earlier and never got the chance to finish it.” She waits for a moment before adding, almost to herself, “It’s always harder to write about her when she’s not here. Even if being with her means I rarely have time to write things down in the first place.”

Aphrodite flips so she’s laying on her stomach, resting her head on her balled-up fists. She kicks her feet like this is just some little girls’ sleepover rather than a mass intrusion on what limited privacy Gabrielle’s able to get. “Why don’t you just tell me? Barding’s not written down anyway. Wastes your time scribbling everything, if you ask me.”

It’s not a bad idea. She’s almost impressed. Aphrodite’s never had this many good ideas in one sitting – though she’d never dare to say that to her face. She knows what happens when she says the wrong thing to Aphrodite. She’d prefer not to end up obsessed with herself again, if she could help it. Gabrielle clears her throat. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Well, how are you feeling right now?” Gabrielle shoots her a look. If the goddess thinks Gabrielle’s going to admit the depths of her frustration to someone who often seeks nothing other than to make it worse, she’s got another thing coming. “What? It might help you figure out what you’re supposed to be writing. Not everything I say has to be all dirty, you know.”

It seems harmless enough. She searches her brain for words that won’t betray the ache between her legs and settles on, “I miss her. That’s all.”

“Yeah? How so?”

With a little wave of her hand, one so small that Gabrielle almost doesn’t catch it, Aphrodite angles the mirror so that it’s facing Gabrielle. She has half a mind to protest but decides against it. If Xena wants to be nosy and figure out just what Gabrielle’s up to, then fine. Gabrielle will give her something to listen to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As exhausting as she finds the banquets these kings throw to welcome her into their domain, Xena must admit it’s nice to have a meal that she didn’t have to catch and prepare herself. Or worse – one that Gabrielle caught. Though she no longer shies away from hunting the way she used to – another part of her innocence that Xena fears she personally killed – she’s never quite mastered Xena’s speed and efficiency. It endears her more to the woman, if possible, the way that every part of her rails against the idea of being a killer.

Having a real bed is perhaps even better than the nice meal. Xena’s gotten used to a life on the road, and as long as she has Gabrielle with her, she thinks she could probably be comfortable anywhere, but occasionally, a bit of luxury’s nice. Most of the time.

Tonight, though, she feels Gabrielle’s absence more than the plush mattress beneath her or the soft blankets settled over her rough skin. Her hands wander over the bedding next to her, finding nothing but an expanse of fabric where there should be curves for her to trace, the simple gesture enough to calm her racing mind. Perhaps if she closes her eyes, she can reconstruct her lover from memory. Hear her voice whispering to her as she drifts off, dreaming only of Gabrielle.

She rolls over, hoping that facing away from Gabrielle’s side of the bed will make the emptiness sting less. Xena should’ve known better than to think she’d be that lucky. Now, she just misses the press of Gabrielle’s back against hers (on the rare nights she allows herself to be held rather than holding) and the nestle of her face into the crook of Xena’s neck like it was always meant to be there.

With a frustrated groan, she kicks the blankets off without regard for where they land. She’ll find them later. Xena vaults to her feet. She snatches the mirror from the corner where she left it facing the wall. Xena spins it around on its edge, stopping it with her foot once the glass points out into the room toward the bed. Even if Gabrielle doesn’t set the mirror up so she’s visible when she sleeps, just knowing that the other woman could check on her if she wanted is a lighthouse in the tempest in Xena’s mind.

She turns to crawl back under the sheets when a familiar voice comes through the mirror murmuring, “I don’t know how else to put it. I just miss her.”

Xena goes still, like moving would frighten the moment of vulnerability away. It’s a childish fear. Gabrielle’s never worried about speaking her mind; in fact, in the early stages of their relationship, it was only by echoing Gabrielle’s sentiments that Xena managed to express her feelings in the first place. Despite that, hearing Gabrielle’s devotion laid out in such certain terms never fails to warm her like the sun reaching into all her darkest shadows.

“If Xena were here right now, what would you tell her?” Aphrodite. Xena should’ve known that’s who Gabrielle would be talking to in her absence; the goddess has taken quite a liking to the bard, and if Xena didn’t know better than to believe Aphrodite would ever hope for the love to die between her and Gabrielle, she’d think Aphrodite sought to replace her in the event anything ever went south.

Inching backwards until she hits the edge of the bed and sinks onto it, Xena hangs on the precipice of Gabrielle’s next words. A heavy sigh comes from the other side of the mirror, one laden with longing that cuts right to Xena’s core. “There’s not much I haven’t already told her. She knows it drives me crazy when she leaves, even if it’s just for a few nights. Going over that again won’t do anything but make her feel guilty. And she does enough of that on her own.” Xena deflates a moment before Gabrielle adds, “But I do miss her mouth.”

Pure, unadulterated lightning courses through Xena’s veins. Every cell blazes. Her eyes flutter closed; she can almost reconstruct Gabrielle’s softness from nothing but her memories of it, almost feel her warm, taut thighs against her cheeks as she settles in her favorite place, almost see the wicked, playful smile reaching all the way up to Gabrielle’s eyes as she rocks her hips against her, demanding what Xena would give her if she even whispered of wanting it. Her tongue darts out against her lips like it might still somehow find what it seeks. An unsatisfied whimper sneaks out as she lands on nothing but unforgiving air.

On the other side of the mirror, Gabrielle cocks her head at Aphrodite. “You’re sure you want to know all this?”

“Honey, I get all my power from people telling me about their love lives.”

“Yeah, but this is—something else.”

“Yeah, and it’s juicy. In more ways than one.” Aphrodite waggles her eyebrows a little.

“Ew,” Gabrielle shudders.

“What? You want me to believe you don’t get all riled up thinking about all the things you and Xena could be doing right now if she hadn’t run off? Who do you think you’re kidding? Now go on, finish your story. Use those words.”

A flare of possessiveness takes hold in Xena’s chest at Aphrodite’s urging – one that only serves to rile her up, as Aphrodite so eloquently put it, more. People take interest in Gabrielle. She can’t blame them for that, nor does she believe Gabrielle would ever dream of entertaining any of them. The bard has far too much of a possessive streak of her own to have eyes for anyone other than Xena.

It doesn’t mean she takes any less pleasure from the thrill of knowing that at the end of the day, she’s the one who gets to drive Gabrielle to endless ecstasy. Her thighs press together as the image of Gabrielle squirming beneath her plays in her head, the woman’s cries so loud that Xena swears she hears them echo in her empty room.

“I don’t really know what else there is to say – I just – there’s this closeness with her that I don’t think I’ll ever feel with anyone else, which is good, because having it with someone else would probably mean that I lost Xena, and I never want to do that, but it makes it so much harder when she’s gone. And I’m so frustrated.” The words spill out of Gabrielle before the other woman can stop them. Xena’s known her long enough to recognize when Gabrielle’s overflowing, when the feelings are so powerful that she can’t bring herself to do anything but voice them. The knowledge that she’s the one driving Gabrielle to such desperation – even when she isn’t there alongside her – sends another wave of desire surging through her.

Gods, it would be so easy. So simple to slide her hand down, imagining it’s Gabrielle’s, and grant herself release. One hand creeps toward her breast at the very thought of chasing pleasure, threatening to slip beneath her clothes. Even the thought of pleasure makes her hips roll in search of some imaginary friction. 

But where’s the fun in that, especially knowing that Gabrielle’s in just as much agony as her? No, better to wait until they’re together again. With any luck, the loneliness and pent-up frustration, as Gabrielle so eloquently put it, will simply sweeten their reunion. She pulls her hand away from herself, settling it on the bed next to her and digging her nails into the mattress.

“Frustrated how?” Aphrodite prods, her tone suggesting that she already knows the answer.

“Don’t make me spell it out,” Gabrielle says through gritted teeth, straining against the sentiment like voicing it will shatter it.

“Oh, come on. Have a little fun!”

“Come on, Gabrielle. Tell me what you want,” Xena murmurs before she can stop herself. Gabrielle’s gaze snaps toward the mirror. Realization flickers over her features, no doubt wondering how long Xena’s been eavesdropping on her. Rather than offer her any sort of real response, Xena just raises her eyebrows at her, a silent encouragement to continue.

Without taking her eyes off the mirror, Gabrielle finishes, “I need you to fuck me.”

Those six words make Xena’s breath catch in her throat. Gabrielle’s good with her words; she’s never shied away from telling Xena exactly what she wants. The soft way she describes her pleasure makes Xena want to be gentle with her, to hold someone’s pieces together rather than finding all the ways to break them.

But sometimes, when she gets lucky, Xena drives Gabrielle to the point that she loses her grip on the flowery language she loves. It’s one thing to make her babble, to reduce her to nothing but sounds and pleas for release. It’s another entirely to pull searing demands from her throat, to turn her crass and harsh, to coax her to voice her wishes the way everyone else must. Hearing Gabrielle’s want laid out in such plain language sends another flood of want racing through her; if Xena hadn’t learn to weather these seas ages ago, she feels sure she’d drown.

“There you go! That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Aphrodite asks, reminding Xena that, much to her chagrin, this world doesn’t just belong to the two of them. “And I’ve got a nice little reward for you for being so brave.” Aphrodite leans around to flip the mirror, blocking Xena’s view. “Sorry, warrior babe. I know you hate surprises. But this one’s gonna be worth it, okay?” She blows a kiss to the mirror before turning it over.

All she hears from the other side after that is a loud gasp from Gabrielle – and then everything goes quiet.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Gabrielle should’ve known better than to listen to Aphrodite’s relationship advice. But when the goddess of love pays you a visit and informs you that she has a present for you (the second in as many days - from any other deity, she’d probably worry she was going to be asked for some ridiculous favor), turning her down isn’t the wisest thing to do unless you want to start a raging war. She’s read the stories. She knows what Aphrodite’s capable of when she’s slighted. The last thing she wants is to end up in the middle of another conflict, especially when her lover tends to jump at any chance to defend Gabrielle.

But now, staring at Aphrodite’s most recent offering, she’s beginning to worry she’s bitten off far more than she can chew. She didn’t dare open the box in front of Aphrodite – in fact, she let it sit for a full day before she bothered to look at it, as if drawing out her torture might make it less agonizing. Maybe it would’ve been better to just rip it open and play at being shameless. It’s not like her desires are secret in the first place; even strangers know how desperately she pines for Xena. Pieces of their love mark every scroll she writes. Hiding from her wishes doesn’t do anyone any good.

Taking a deep breath, Gabrielle lifts the lid from the parcel in front of her. A polished piece of obsidian with a flared base rests in a nest of soft leaves (making the whole situation feel a bit more animalistic than Gabrielle would’ve wanted, but there’s nothing she can really do about that). Her eyes narrow at the sight of it. Gabrielle takes it into her hands, revealing a tangle of leather straps resting beneath it. The stone’s heavier and wider than it seemed at first glance; it hardly fits in Gabrielle’s hand.

 What could Aphrodite think the two of them would need with a piece of stone –

Oh.

Gabrielle’s heard stories of objects that allow women to care for each other in ways that otherwise would have been impossible. Nothing but whispers in taverns, but enough to pique her curiosity. A piece of her always believed they were just that – stories. Sure, she’s fantasized about something like this for a while, the closeness and connection, but she never dared voice her wishes to Xena. She’d never dream of making her lover feel like the pleasure she could provide wasn’t enough; Xena already wastes so much time fearing that she’s not good enough for Gabrielle, and if Gabrielle can mitigate her concerns in any way, isn’t it her job to do so?

And it’s not like she wants for anything, anyway. Any time she had any sort of needs, Xena was more than happy to put her many skills to use to fulfill them. Nor do things ever get boring between the two of them. It seems like every night, Xena’s coming up with some brilliant way to drive Gabrielle to her peak.

But now that it’s right in front of her, who is Gabrielle to turn down an opportunity to explore something new?

Her eyes flutter to the mirror. Speaking of exploring something new…

Xena’s already proven that she finds it irrevocably attractive when Gabrielle touches herself; she’s guided the bard’s hands to her own breasts or clit enough times while she lavished attention on her center enough times for her to be certain of that. But situating Xena firmly as a spectator, revoking her ability to reach for Gabrielle and take matters into her own hands? She can’t predict how the other woman will respond – especially not when experimenting with the toy, too. Xena loves control. Even when she relinquishes it into Gabrielle’s hands, the trade-off must be on her own terms. Not even allowing her the potential for involvement? It could be dangerous.

But Gabrielle’s become quite fond of the sorts of risks that come with testing Xena like this. She’ll handle whatever consequences come her way.

Quietly, like she’ll frighten all desires away if she acts too quickly, Gabrielle wriggles free of her clothing, setting everything on top of one of her bags. She pulls the mirror out from where she’s kept it propped against a rock, spinning it so the glass faces toward her bedroll. Leaning down, she spots Xena curled up in her bed, no doubt trying to have a peaceful night for once in her life. Her head’s buried in the pillow, but her breath’s not even enough for Gabrielle to think she’s asleep.

So, Xena’s anticipating something. Good to know. As much as she hates proving Xena right, she would’ve hated for all these efforts to have been for nothing.

Luckily, the warrior’s trained Gabrielle well enough that she knows how to keep quiet, when the situation calls for it. Xena won’t have to know what’s happening until Gabrielle’s ready.

Gabrielle kneels on her bedroll. An experimental swipe of one finger between her legs betrays that even the thought of teasing Xena already has her desperate for release. Her hips roll against her own hand, chasing even the ghost of that touch. Already so needy. She’ll have to pace herself if she wants to last longer than a few moments.

Her hand wanders back up to her breast, kneading the soft flesh it finds there. Her eyes flutter closed. If she really tries hard enough, she can almost imagine the callouses on Xena’s palms running against the sensitive skin of her nipple. Almost feel the other woman’s warm breath as she drops a tender kiss on the top of her breast, tongue flicking against it for good measure. The image alone nearly tugs a yelp from Gabrielle. She bites her lip to keep quiet. The little twinge of pain there serves only to heighten her pleasure.

Gabrielle’s thumb skates over her nipple until it pebbles beneath her touch. She pinches it between two fingers and twists just enough to urge a buck from her hips, pleasure mingling with pain. She bites back another cry, head flying back from the sheer restraint of it. Her legs wobble beneath her, threatening to drop her onto the bedroll just to have something to grind against, no matter how little satisfaction it will truly grant. Her nails dig into the flesh of her breast, pinpricks of external agony to match the storm of desire within her.

Like an afterthought, her free hand sinks between her legs while the other moves to her neglected breast, toying with the nipple. One finger finds its way to her entrance, testing how ready she is for the next phase of her plan. It takes all her resolve not to sink down onto that waiting, torturous finger and drive herself to oblivion. She drags it up toward her clit before her body can betray her. Her hips slam down onto the bedroll anyway, wriggling like they’ll find any respite. More than anything, she wishes Xena was there, thigh pressed between Gabrielle’s legs, the delicious pressure she seeks. A tiny whimper slips out of her at this. A glance toward the mirror lets her know that it wasn’t enough to alert the warrior.

Light, like the slightest whisper of a breeze on a hot summer day, Gabrielle circles her clit with that very same finger. She traces another line toward her entrance and back up again, repeating the motion as her hips seek to match the pace she sets, over and over until she can’t hold her eyes open.

Her every thought devotes itself to pleasure. The muscles in her legs spasm. She doubles over, abandoning her breasts so she can hold herself up with one arm as she pushes herself further, gasping for air. The world shrinks until there is nothing within it but her hands and her breasts and her clit and the ache, the ache that nothing can satisfy but –

The precipice approaches, a stampede careening toward the edge of a cliff with nothing there to stop it from sliding off. Before she can let herself tumble, Gabrielle pulls her hands away from herself, though her fingers flex as if to continue along their trajectory.

Shuddering, chest heaving, she lunges for the obsidian before she can let herself fall. Gabrielle lets it rest on the flared base, positioning it between her legs. She rises to her knees and angles the head to press against her entrance. A little flicker of anxiety rears its head in her chest, a lighthouse in the fog of desire. What if Xena doesn’t want this? What if she sees Gabrielle like this and begins to fear that Gabrielle wants something that Xena can’t give her?

She chases away the thought before the spiral can progress any further. Xena worries about few things more than Gabrielle’s pleasure. She’d never turn down another way to drive her bard wild. So, with newfound confidence, Gabrielle takes a deep breath -

And lowers herself onto the stone.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Xena’s spent enough time with Gabrielle to catalogue every little sound she makes in bed – and there are far more than she ever could’ve imagined. The whimper she lets out when Xena denies her orgasm in hopes of drawing out their time together. The loud, long, low moans that somehow always catch her off guard. High pitched cries with every thrust when she’s on the verge of overstimulation. Gabrielle’s not shy about the things she likes. If she wants something, she’ll let Xena know without ever bothering to use her words (though Xena always prefers it when she does. Gabrielle can have quite the filthy little mouth, when she chooses).

Her favorite sound, however, is the way Gabrielle’s breath hitches up into a high, short whine when Xena enters her for the first time after withholding the satisfaction Gabrielle yearns for. It’s intoxicating. Were it possible, Xena thinks she could get addicted to that little whimper, to the feel of Gabrielle’s walls tightening around her as she lifts her hips, urging Xena deeper.

So, when she hears that soft cry in a room Gabrielle’s decidedly not in, Xena sits bolt upright, gaze skittering through the room until it lands on the mirror. Gabrielle’s naked form rests in the middle of the frame, one hand holding something between her legs while the other kneads one of her breasts. Her head’s thrown back, mouth slightly open as she gasps, no doubt adjusting to the sensation of something within her. A thumb skates over her nipple. Her hips buck.

Xena’s thighs press against each other of their own volition. She shifts, seeking more pressure. A sigh sneaks out of her when she doesn’t find the respite she craves. “Gods, Gabrielle,” she murmurs, low enough she doesn’t even know if the other woman can hear her.

Gabrielle snaps to attention. A devilish smile plays at the corners of her lips, and Xena gets the unmistakable, ever-familiar feeling that she’s about to be attacked. Never taking her eyes off Xena, she offers a long, slow roll of her hips. A low moan slides out of her like sap down a tree, snaring Xena in her gaze. Her tongue flicks out to wet her lips. Xena’s does the same, her gaze flitting down. If only she were there, her tongue could have far better uses than simply tracing her own lips in hopes of still tasting Gabrielle on them somehow.

“Xena,” Gabrielle sighs, the soft syllables of her name almost a song in the other woman’s husky voice, accompanied by the steady rhythm of her hips. The gentleness with which Gabrielle regards her never fails to stop her in her tracks. Xena’s spent her whole life caring for others. She’s a protector by nature.

But Gabrielle carves out time to take care of her. Years went by before she let herself relax enough to allow Gabrielle to hold her without fearing they may somehow break one another. The bard took her walls down brick by brick until they could see each other plainly and the sun could shine on Xena once again. She was patient. Warm. Showered Xena in the sort of kindness she never should have deserved.

Now, she doesn’t think there’s anything that would stop her from surrendering before Gabrielle.

Something in Xena throbs at the sound of Gabrielle crying her name. One hand snakes down her torso, though there’s too much fabric in the way for the touch to grant her much of anything. “Gabrielle,” she murmurs. If she closes her eyes, she could imagine Gabrielle there in her lap, almost feel the heat of their bodies intertwining – but with her eyes closed, she’d miss the show Gabrielle is so beautifully putting on for her. There’s no victory for her.

Gabrielle cries her name again and Xena’s world narrows until it’s simply the two of them and the movement of Gabrielle’s hands along her own body and the devastating ache between her legs. The thin fabric of her underclothes against her core drives her further into madness, fidgeting and wriggling in hopes that it will provide even petty relief. Xena’s legs spread further. She leans forward, pressing more of herself against the bed and rocking her hips, but everything only frustrates her more. Xena lets out a mewl unbecoming of her fierce reputation.

At Xena’s whine, Gabrielle snaps to attention. She cocks her head. “Poor thing,” she says, injecting sickening sweetness into her tone. If she were there, Gabrielle would reach over and run her hand down her cheek, avoiding touching her anywhere that she really needed. “You miss me, don’t you?” Xena nods. “I have a surprise for you when you come back.”

“Gabrielle…” Xena warns. She can’t say she’s a fan of surprises; they too often feel like ambushes.

“You’ll like this one.” A hungry look crosses her face as she adds, “Do you want a hint?”

Something about the way Gabrielle says it makes Xena think she may not have a choice in this matter. She finds it’s better to just play along at times like this. So, she nods. A wicked grin dances on Gabrielle’s lips. “Then watch. I don’t want to see your eyes anywhere else, okay?”

And who is Xena to disobey?

She studies Gabrielle, the tensing of her muscles as she steadies the hand between her legs, the flex of her nimble fingers as they tighten, the swell of her thighs as she raises just enough to reveal –

 Xena gasps, her head falling back in sheer pleasure. She’d wanted to bring back one of these stones for Gabrielle for ages; she just never found one that felt right for the two of them. A part of her doubted that Gabrielle would even want to explore this with her. She makes a mental note to thank Aphrodite later, even if she hates the idea that the goddess of love saw this and pictured Gabrielle at the height of pleasure.

Gabrielle sinks back down onto the stone, quickening her pace. The muscles in her arm twitch with the sheer effort of holding herself upright. Xena moves as if to reach out and steady her. “Like what you see?” Gabrielle purrs, her voice ragged. Xena nods. She can only imagine how she must look to Gabrielle right now. A mess and she hasn’t even been touched.

Xena’s hand wanders to her center, seeking even a touch of respite. Caring for herself would take only moments. It would be so easy. A few quick touches and she’d be unraveling, all this tension within her unwound.

But where’s the satisfaction in that? She’ll be back with Gabrielle tomorrow, and if Gabrielle’s desperate enough to take matters into her own hands, she’ll melt the instant Xena touches her. Xena pins her hands beneath her legs. Her muscles tense with the effort of keeping herself still. The sight of her restraint only spurs Gabrielle forward. She adjusts the angle of the toy within her, and a loud sigh lets Xena know that the other woman found just the right spot to bring herself higher.

Gabrielle’s pace turns erratic only a few seconds after Xena makes up her mind, testing the warrior’s resolve. Her legs shake. Moans spill out with every shift of her hips. Gabrielle’s orgasm overtakes her with a gasp, like someone snuck up behind her and pushed her over the edge. Her eyes snap shut. The arm supporting her collapses. She holds the toy against that perfect spot inside her, rutting against it like some pathetic animal and whimpering like one, too. Her mouth stays open, panting. Her flushed chest heaves with the very effort of breathing.

Once the aftershocks fade, Gabrielle dismounts the toy. She brings it up to her lips and, after pressing a kiss to the tip, runs her tongue along it. Xena groans. “Gabrielle,” she hisses.

“What?” Gabrielle beams at her. “It’s not like you’re here to take care of this yourself. Someone’s got to make sure it’s ready for tomorrow. I’m going to an inn near where you left me. Find me there.” With that, she turns the mirror around.

As soon as she’s gone, Xena’s mind kicks into overdrive. The greatest tactical mind in Greece, and she only wants to use it to exact her revenge on that infernal, infuriating little bard.

Gabrielle’s not going to know what hit her.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Gabrielle knew better than to believe she wasn’t going to pay for the torment she put Xena through the previous night. Xena’s always insatiable when she comes back from a few days away, claiming she has to prove how badly she missed her lover. As if Gabrielle could ever doubt how much Xena wants her after all the times Xena’s fallen apart in her arms. She’d have to be a fool to disregard that the mighty warrior princess would do anything just to please Gabrielle.

She hears Xena’s approach before she sees her. Gabrielle could recognize the precise cadence of Argo’s hoofbeats even amid a massive army. Excitement courses through her veins, borderline electric. Dampness takes root between her legs. She doesn’t even allow herself to press them together. Any relief she grants herself now is a drop of pleasure that Xena won’t be able to coax from her. The warrior would never forgive her insolence.

The hoofbeats stop. Gabrielle braces herself. She stands to greet Xena, to help her change out of her leathers into something more comfortable – even if the pleasantry is simply an excuse to get her hands on Xena and to get her out of such restrictive clothing.

Gabrielle doesn’t register that the door’s even opened before Xena’s on her, pinning her to the nearest wall, so close that their breasts brush against one another. The other woman’s muscular arms bracket either side of her head. The sudden urge to bite Xena’s muscles pops into her mind. She quells it for now. Plenty of time for that later. Instead, Gabrielle’s hands wander to Xena’s waist, pulling her closer. “Welcome back,” Gabrielle breathes. She leans in for a kiss.

Xena dodges her. Gabrielle glowers at her. “Do you even know what you did to me last night?” Xena says, voice already low and thick with desire. Her dark eyes rove over Gabrielle’s body, examining each part of her like she’s deciding which to assail first. Gabrielle doesn’t really care as long as Xena touches her somewhere, anywhere.  

Before Gabrielle can respond, Xena dives for her neck, stealing her words and replacing them with nothing but a gasping mewl. She sucks on Gabrielle’s pulse point, her teeth grazing against her skin just enough to make Gabrielle squirm, pain cutting through the haze of pleasure that she already seems to be lost in. Xena’s thigh slots itself between Gabrielle’s legs, giving her something to grind against. She seizes the opportunity, sliding against Xena’s thigh, leaving a slick spot there even through her clothes. “I missed you,” Gabrielle manages to gasp. “Spent all weekend wanting you.”

“Yeah?” Xena finally breaks away from Gabrielle’s throat, admiring the mark she left there. She runs her tongue over it once more for good measure. Gabrielle thinks she might see stars, a constellation arranging itself into Xena’s form. She leans closer to Gabrielle, her voice husking against the shell of her ear. Shivers race down Gabrielle’s body. “Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what you wanted.” Xena presses her thigh harder against Gabrielle’s core. The pressure almost hurts now. Every part of her yearns for Xena, for her hands, her mouth, anything she’s willing to offer, Gabrielle would take greedily and still hunger for more.

“You,” Gabrielle whines. Even the single syllable rasps against her throat and fades into a moan as Xena bites and sucks a trail down her jaw. Gabrielle fiddles with the clasps of Xena’s armor. The breastplate falls away, and she removes the shift soon after, giving her access to reach up and squeeze Xena’s breasts. Xena arches into her touch, momentarily pulled away from her quest to cover every inch of Gabrielle with her lips.

“Tell me what you want. Any fantasy you had. Tell me and it’s yours. All you have to do is ask.” Xena continues her path down Gabrielle’s neck, stopping to swipe her tongue over the top of her breast.

All Gabrielle can get out is, “Your mouth. I want your mouth.” The request sends a mischievous smile across Xena’s face.

“That can be arranged.” She works her hands under Gabrielle’s ass, squeezing the flesh she finds there for good measure to elicit a little whimper, and scoops Gabrielle into her arms. She lays Gabrielle down on the bed and tugs at the hem of her skirt. Gabrielle lifts her hips to allow Xena to tug it off. Her top’s next to go. She doesn’t see where the other woman throws them – nor does she care, if she’s being honest. Gabrielle’s plans for the rest of their stay won’t require it anyway. She raises up on her elbows and steals a glance at Xena. The warrior’s eyes are dark, even more so than they were before if possible, and there’s a hunger in them that makes Gabrielle think she’s about to be devoured alive.

The thought sends another wave of desire coursing through her. She makes a note to perhaps find a way to wash these sheets herself. Nobody else should have to deal with the consequences of what they’re going to do to each other.

Xena kneels in front of her, and Gabrielle’s breath hitches at the reminder that she’s the only one who can get the great warrior princess to devote herself to her like this. Xena’s nails skate along the insides of her thighs, dodging any of the places where Gabrielle truly wants her. “Like this?” Xena asks, looping her arms under Gabrielle’s legs and shrugging them over her shoulders. She searches Gabrielle’s face for an answer, still seeking permission even after all this time.

An idea strikes Gabrielle. Sure, it wasn’t the precise fantasy she had while Xena was gone, but now that she’s thought about it, she can’t shake off the idea. “Not quite,” Gabrielle says, sitting up. Xena looks at her with something like hurt in her eyes. “C’mere.” She reaches for Xena’s hand and tugs her up onto the bed alongside her. “Lay down.” Xena, to her credit, does what she’s told without protest.

Gabrielle swings one leg over Xena’s abdomen. She rolls herself against Xena once for good measure. Xena’s muscles harden beneath her, giving her some of the friction she craves. Truthfully, she could probably bring herself to completion just like that and be perfectly satisfied – if she didn’t have a wealth of other ideas to draw from. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” Gabrielle says, her voice taking on a new severity.

“Never.”

With renewed confidence, Gabrielle inches forward until her knees rest on either side of Xena’s head. She chances a look down at Xena and finds the other woman gazing up at her like she’s a goddess. “And now? Still okay?”  She knows the answer before Xena could ever give it; whatever Gabrielle wants, she tends to get.

Xena cranes her neck up and presses a featherlight kiss to Gabrielle’s clit in lieu of a real answer. Sparks crackle through Gabrielle, the most alive she’s felt in days. Xena licks her lips when she pulls away, relishing in the lingering taste of her love. “All that for me, sweetheart?” she asks.

“Told you I missed you.” It takes all her strength to keep her voice low; as much as she knows Xena loves to hear the effect that pleasure has on her, she wants to maintain some semblance of decency. At least for now. Xena hasn’t even touched her yet.

Xena doesn’t speak again. She buries herself in Gabrielle, nosing at the thatch of curls covering her center. The flat of her tongue traces a path from her entrance back up to her clit, soft and warm and somehow better than Gabrielle remembered, even though she memorized the feel of Xena long ago. Gabrielle’s hips roll. Xena’s grip tightens around her waist, nails digging into her soft skin. Were her mind any clearer, she’d worry about the marks being visible the next day, but she can’t bring herself to care. “Let me take care of you,” she says with a nip to the inside of Gabrielle’s thigh, looking up at her lover with hooded eyes.

Gabrielle whines, trying to wriggle free of Xena’s grasp, but the warrior’s always been stronger than her – and Gabrielle doesn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as she could’ve. Xena rewards her patience with a suck to her clit that only makes her crave more. The warrior, typically thrumming with energy, moves agonizingly slowly now, taking her time as she flicks her tongue up and into Gabrielle. Gabrielle’s body twitches against Xena’s embrace. As if punishing her, Xena withdraws. She instead moves back up to Gabrielle’s clit, closing her mouth around it. Xena lets out a little moan that gets lost somewhere in Gabrielle. Gabrielle’s hand threads through Xena’s long hair, more as a way to anchor herself to reality than an attempt at controlling this situation. She already accepted it’s far out of her hands.

Though that doesn’t mean she can’t have a bit of fun with the effect she has on Xena. So what if the other woman won’t let her chase friction? That’s okay. It’s not the only thing she needs. Gabrielle bears down harder on Xena’s face right as her tongue wanders back down to her entrance, speeding up a bit as she licks into Gabrielle, curling up to reach just where Gabrielle needs her most. Xena’s mouth falls fully open now, the heat of her encompassing the entirety of Gabrielle. “Fuck, Xena!” she yelps as one of Xena’s hands slides up to pinch one of her nipples, the exclamation trailing into nothing but a moan.

The crassness of it all makes Xena moan into her with another, harder movement up into her, sending delicious vibrations up through Gabrielle’s body. She feels it everywhere, the way they’re connected. Xena’s own hips buck beneath her, muscles rippling as she seeks friction of her own. Not to worry. She’ll get what’s coming to her. She’s been far too good to Gabrielle for her to go unsatisfied. “Do that again,” Gabrielle pants, chest heaving.

Instead, Xena loosens her grip. She lowers her head just long enough to say, “I’m yours, Gabrielle.” Xena flattens her tongue against Gabrielle and holds it there, raising her eyebrows as if to say, I’m waiting. Gabrielle nearly curses her confidence. Is it undeniably sexy that Xena knows just how crazy she drives Gabrielle? Absolutely. Does it make her a nightmare to deal with? Also yes.

Still, it’s all the permission Gabrielle needs. She rides Xena’s face with renewed intensity, the other woman’s body simply another toy for her to use. Her hips buck wildly against Xena, growing more and more erratic with every roll. Xena reaches to hold her again – not to slow her, but simply to hold her, to support her and keep her steady, to ensure that she gets anything she needs.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Good girl,” Xena croons, taking a moment of respite to kiss Gabrielle’s clit again. The softness of it all against the intensity of the previous moments pushes Gabrielle closer to the edge. As much as she loves Xena’s toughness, adores the feeling of being encompassed and protected, there is something to be said for softness, for knowing that Xena can give herself over to Gabrielle to be wielded without believing she will become a weapon. “I’m yours.”

Gabrielle unravels at her praise. Any words she may have had left fade into a borderline scream as she rocks against Xena, who finally decides to do something and coaxes every last drop of pleasure out of her, devouring her like she’s something divine. Her hands slide up to skate along Gabrielle’s shaking thighs, the little pricks of her nails keeping her grounded. Wave after wave courses through her. Xena murmurs sweet nothings that Gabrielle can’t even distinguish, coaxing aftershocks out of her until Gabrielle collapses down onto Xena, burying her face in the crook of her neck.

Gabrielle feels the twist of Xena’s wicked smile before she sees it. “Now, don’t tell me you’re too tired to explore some of those other fantasies. Seems to me there’s something you wanted to try last night, but there wasn’t anyone around to help you.” There’s a softness to the words that lets Gabrielle know that, if she were to be exhausted, it would be okay. They have time. They have all the time they could ever need. Xena’s here now. She doesn’t have to miss her anymore.

But as it stands, Gabrielle wants to rally – even if just to take care of Xena. “Never,” she says. “But we’re doing this my way. Not like it’s going to take you very long anyway.” Gabrielle runs an experimental finger through Xena’s folds and finds that the warrior’s already dripping. Perfect for what she has planned. She sucks the wetness from her finger, admiring how Xena watches her.

“Bossy,” Xena groans, dropping a soft kiss on Gabrielle’s temple as she climbs out of bed. “Where is it?” Gabrielle jerks her head toward one of her bags. Xena roots through it until she locates the piece of obsidian – and the mess of leather that accompanies it.

Xena toys with the harness as if to adjust it to her own measurements. Gabrielle extends her hand before she can get too far. “That’s not quite the way I pictured it. And we’re meant to be living out my fantasies, aren’t we?”

Despite everything, she feels a bit silly when trying to order Xena around like this. She knows the warrior likes it. Xena spends so much of her life in control that she relishes in the opportunity to let someone else take the reins for once (as much as she likes to throw a fit and strain against Gabrielle’s instructions simply for love of the game).  

“Yes, ma’am.” Xena hands Gabrielle the tangle of leather and obsidian. After a bit of fidgeting, she gets the toy situated. It’s heavier than she thought – and doesn’t give her nearly the power trip that she was hoping. The base of it presses against her already swollen clit, providing delicious pressure with every little shift. Suddenly, with it on, her mind fills with worries that she’s not going to be able to please Xena. The warrior already struggles with pleasure, sometimes. Her body’s been a weapon so many times that she often doesn’t know how to respond when someone reveres her. Why would she stray from the things that work so well?

But then Xena sprawls on the bed, spreading her legs to allow Gabrielle more access, and her confidence renews. Xena wants this. And she’ll let Gabrielle know how to take care of her. She taught Gabrielle all the other ways to please her. Why would this be any different?

Mustering all her bravado, Gabrielle says, “That’s not exactly how I saw it.”

Xena raises herself up on her elbows, the inquisitive spark shining through her eyes even through her blown pupils. “No?” There’s almost a teasing lilt to it, like she’s daring Gabrielle not to admit to what she envisioned.

Gabrielle shakes her head, a similarly mischievous spirit taking root in her heart. She injects as much innocence as she can manage into her voice (given the circumstances) and requests, “I want you to fuck me.”

Xena’s mouth falls open. “Gabrielle,” she says, overcome with awe.

“If that’s okay.” A blush threatens to creep up onto her cheeks. In lieu of a response, Xena just pats the mattress next to her. Gabrielle settles on her back. She tries to look everywhere but at the obsidian shaft, focusing instead on Xena’s moon-dark eyes, the love with which she regards her, the determination to live up to Gabrielle’s most twisted dreams.

“More than okay,” Xena purrs, moving to straddle the toy. She runs her hand along it, and Gabrielle swears she can feel the brush of her fingers against it as if it were truly an extension of herself. Then, with little fanfare, Xena sinks onto her, burying herself to the hilt in one swift motion. The weight of her alone, the feel of her hips against Gabrielle’s, the sight of her coupled with the knowledge that Gabrielle’s inside her, drags a low moan from Gabrielle’s lips. “This how you dreamed it?” She punctuates it with a roll of her own hips, head falling back as the toy moves inside her.

“Better,” Gabrielle gasps, reaching up to trace her hand down the curve of Xena’s abdomen.

Xena sets a slow pace, savoring the slip of her body against Gabrielle’s the way she does when she rides the other woman’s thigh. The sway of her breasts intoxicates Gabrielle. Xena presses one hand against the plane of Gabrielle’s abdomen to keep herself steady. Every undulation pushes the base of the toy harder against Gabrielle’s center. Her body twitches from the effort of keeping herself still to let Xena take what she wants.

As she always does, Xena notices. How dare she be so damn observant? “It’s okay,” Xena says, leaning down to kiss Gabrielle without slowing her hips. The combination of Xena’s lips on hers and the agonizingly delicious feel of Xena fucking herself makes a moan rumble deep in Gabrielle’s throat. Xena swallows it. “I know you love seeing me like this. Knowing that all this is just for you. It’ll only ever be you.”

Gabrielle’s hips buck up into Xena at that, matching her and drawing her back in before Xena can lower herself again. She’s not precisely sure what she does, but the movement makes the toy hit a place in Xena that rips a gasp from her throat. Gabrielle arches her back and holds herself there, chasing the opportunity to please her lover. “You’re so good, Gabrielle,” she purrs again, shifting so that the toy hits that place with each motion. “Letting me fuck you like this.”

“I am?” Gabrielle doesn’t need the validation, as she’s more than aware of what she does to her lover, but it’s nice to hear it anyway.

“Yes.” There’s desperation in it, a ferocity, like she’d tear apart the world just to prove that Gabrielle’s hers and that she is Gabrielle’s. Nobody can truly possess Xena. She’s far too wild for that and always will be. But Gabrielle’s the one she returns to time and time again, her refuge when she cannot face the rest of the world. She’s Gabrielle’s in the ways that matter.

The only flaw with the change in angle is that now, the toy rubs against Gabrielle’s already sensitive clit far more often – especially as Xena speeds up, taking everything she wants from Gabrielle. The bard’s pitiful little moans only spur Xena on, short, high cries tumbling from the warrior’s lips with every rock of her hips. Tension builds within Gabrielle. Perhaps it never really left.

Before she knows it, she’s close again. She thinks she would be just from watching Xena. The rolling of her muscles beneath her skin. The way her breasts move against her chest, tempting Gabrielle to reach up and take them into her mouth. She holds herself back for now. Best not to do too much too fast. Best to let Xena have what she needs without exploring too much else. There’ll be time for whatever she wants.

Xena’s nearly at the edge, too. Her punishing pace grows irregular. A sheen of sweat covers her skin, and Gabrielle has half a mind to trace her tongue over every part of her just to taste Xena. “Come for me, Xena.” The words tumble from her mouth before she can catch them, more assertive than she intends.

Xena looks almost like a predator about to pounce. “Say that again.”

Gabrielle pushes her hips up. “Come with me, Xena. I want you to come with me. I’m close. I’m so close.”

That’s all the urging the other woman needs. Xena’s never been as vocal as Gabrielle has; just a long sigh and a stutter of her hips and a release of all the tension in her body, a blissful smile settling over her lips. The sight of her alone ushers in Gabrielle’s release, loud and fitful, moans and whimpers spilling from her as every muscle in her body tenses, then relaxes until she feels quieter than she has in days. Xena slumps forward, burying her face in Gabrielle’s neck, pressing herself against Gabrielle with the toy still inside her as she quivers. “That’s it,” Gabrielle murmurs, bucking her hips up a few more times to tug the last of the aftershocks from both of them.

Xena crawls off her only to settle on her side next to Gabrielle, resting her head on the bard’s shoulder. Gabrielle wraps an arm around her and tugs her closer, ignoring how the proximity lights another little fire of desire within her. There’ll be plenty of time for that later; they both need rest now. Toying with Xena’s hair, Gabrielle asks, “How was that?”

Xena groans. “Remind me to thank Aphrodite the next time I see her.”

“That good, huh? Got you willing to pray.”

“Don’t get cocky on me.” After a moment of silence, Xena snorts. She buries her face in Gabrielle’s shoulder.

Gabrielle swats at her. “What?”

“Nothing.” Xena presses her lips together. Gabrielle shoots her a knowing look. “You know. Cock-y.”

Gabrielle’s mouth falls open. She figured Xena was about to make a terrible joke – she can never let a mood stay too serious – but gods, did it have to be that bad? “I’ll tell Aphrodite we have no use for this thing right now.”

Xena presses her hand over Gabrielle’s mouth. “You wouldn’t dare. And don’t say her name too loud. We’d never hear the end of it if she found us like this.”

“Oh, she knows to leave us alone. I’d know if she was here. But she knows how much I missed you.” Gabrielle tilts Xena’s chin up and kisses her, really kisses her with all the softness of a fairy tale.

Xena rolls her eyes, as she always does when Gabrielle gets all sappy on her, but nestles even closer against Gabrielle. “I missed you too.”