Is This Deal Negotiable?, by Rabid

Hades, Lord of the Underworld, set aside the parchment he was reading and concentrated. It had been a long time since he'd heard anything even remotely resembling a prayer. From the living, at any rate. He cocked his head, trying to catch it.

"O, Hades, hear me. I beg you to grant my request." a young, fervent, female voice called out of the darkness. Interest piqued, Hades gathered his powers and manifested in front of the first mortal to call on him personally in nearly a hundred years. He found himself in a shack on a hillside in bitterly cold weather, facing a tallish girl in threadbare clothes. Her cheeks were red with cold, and her body shook. On a small table between them, a paper napkin held a pomegranate, slightly withered, and a hunk of bread.

"It's all I had for an offering," the girl said through chattering teeth.

"Well enough," Hades replied, and with a wave of his hand, their surroundings vanished, replaced with the gloom of his realm.

"Strangely, this is warmer." she remarked, gazing around.

"Have you no fear?" Hades demanded, his dark robes swirling around his feet, hiding them.

"Can't afford it." she glared up at him, pushing her lank, dirty hair out of her eyes, which were mismatched, he saw, the left yellow, like a cat's, the right a strange light blue.

"Your name, then," he commanded.

"Trouble. You can call me Tru." she rubbed her hands to try and warm them.

"I can't remember the last supplicant I heard, Tru. Speak your piece." he ordered, ushering her down a corridor lit by torches that gave off a sickly pale glow.

"I have a problem, Lord Hades, and you are the cause, as I understand it." she followed his hand gesture to wait, and gaped in spite of herself when two immense double doors swung wide to reveal a sumptuous chamber, well lit and appointed with rich reds and burgundies. Hades directed her to seat herself on a pile of soft cushions, and assumed a perch on an ornate black throne opposite them.

"I sincerely doubt that I have any connection to you at all. Unlike my relatives, who seem to be enjoying a resurgence, I have no worshipers, no power base, save for the souls which already reside here. You are mistaken." Hades sipped from a goblet that appeared in his hand, and disappeared a moment later.

"Let me tell you my story." Tru insisted, desperate, and, surprising her, the Lord of the Underworld nodded.

"I was born twenty years ago. My mother was a gullible woman who got mixed up in several cults and sects. She didn't want me, and had no idea who my father was. Her mother raised me, fairly well, 'til I was five. Then my mother took up the job. She decided that since I'd been nothing but trouble from the get go, and she'd named me that as well, she should dedicate me to a suitable deity. She chose a God of Mischief, but refused to tell me which one. Her own personal pantheon changed as often as her lovers, so I had no hope of knowing who I 'belonged to'. My life is a horrorshow. Trouble follows me. As soon as  I make a friend, some catastrophe happens to ruin the relationship. Same with men- lovers- I mean. And jobs. I can't support myself. If I walk by a fountain, odds are, it'll explode, spraying half a city block. If I close a door, it'll jam shut; open a door, can't close it. The situation is ridiculous. Bad things don't really happen to me, they just follow me. They plague anyone that gets near me." Tru paused for breath.

Hades spoke into the silence," And this has to do with me, how?"

"My mother died a month ago. She couldn't remember who she'd offered me up to all those years ago, the god I was supposed to be worshiping loyally for fifteen years. See, she'd never gotten around to telling me I was supposed to be offering sacrifices, or prayers, or anything. And of course she never bothered to tell me WHO I was supposed to be offering to. I got in touch with some real pagans, not the fluff headed drug addict cult mom used to hang with. They were really sympathetic, and they tried to help me, but in the end, my curse hit, and I had to leave. I've tried supplicating every single god of mischief ever heard of...nothing. Until now. I almost gave up when I begged Strife to answer, but I finally reached someone. Aphrodite appeared for a moment and said, 'You need to see Hades,' and vanished. Poof! So here I am. What now?" those odd eyes stared up at him, expecting, no, demanding an answer. Hades bit back a groan of dismay. He covered his face with his hands, and sighed.

"You were aptly named. Your mother should have been lynched for doing what she did out of stupidity. You are in a big pile of shit, child, and no mistake."

"Thanks, that's very helpful." she said acerbically, and Hades simply stared at her for a moment, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs, his feet exposed.

Tru gaped openmouthed at the pink bunny slippers he wore under his intimidating black robes. She choked on her laughter. Hades noticed, and a faint tinge of pink warmed his normally ashen cheeks.

"A gift from Persephone. I hadn't expected to deal with guests," he murmured, and she nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischievous glee. Hades recognized the somewhat unholy light, and rolled his own eyes. Perhaps the mortal's dam had had the right notion after all. He could see that this girl was without a doubt a child created for Strife. He  sighed heavily.

"Pranks. You enjoyed playing them on others, yes?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"When I was little. Then I caught on to the fact that when I got caught, people liked me even less than usual, so I stopped. Not that it did me much good." she pulled a sour face.

"Strife, although assuredly a God of Mischief, was killed long, long ago. You were dedicated to a dead God. He was here for hundreds of years, but I finally relented and let him go. He outlasted my patience with his impudence and tricks. I have no ideas as to his whereabouts. Ares may, however." Hades pronounced. He looked her over with a critical eye, and waved his hand over her, cleaning, grooming and dressing her in a flash of light.

"Wow," she breathed, looking down at herself.

"You clean up rather well." the Dark God said admiringly. Her hair was a pleasing shade of red, coppery and full of waves, and her skin was white and smooth under the layer of grime. Likewise her figure was appealing, if thin and tall. His compelling eyes raked over her new appearance covetously, but she seemed immune to his charms. He spent a brief moment enjoying her new look, and admired the soft gown he'd put her in.

"You don't get out much, do you?" she gestured to the long chemise she wore, one brow cocked at him, a tiny smile playing at the corners of her mouth. " If you did, you'd realize that this is only cool for people over fifty to wear. Or if you're dead."

"You play a dangerous game, mortal." Hades grated, not so easily rebuffed.

"No, I don't. I just don't care. If you kill me for whatever, I then belong to you, since the God I was given to is missing or dead anyway. Then I guess you can do anything you want to me.  At least I'll have a place. Or, if you don't kill me, I'll just go back to what I was doing before. At least now I know who to pray to." the dull look was back in her eyes: resignation. That took the wind out of Hades indignation. He grinned ruefully.

"Persephone would laugh at me for decades. What would you prefer to wear?" he chuckled, gazing into her mind. The thoughts were odd to him, but clear. In an instant, Tru was clad in worn black jeans, a well used black t-shirt, engineer boots, and a floor length black leather duster. She hugged herself, grinning.

"I've always wanted clothes like these!" she did a happy dance in place, then impulsively leapt into Hades' arms and hugged him. He was so surprised that he let her go when she darted back, her face gone pale with nausea and fear, rubbing her arms in a strange way. Hades didn't notice.

"You're welcome." he returned drily, and decided that before he sent her on her way, he'd get some much needed information from her about the world above. Obviously his Olympian relations had been less than forthcoming concerning the changes wrought in the past hundred years. What a surprise that was, he thought, before mentally calling for Ares.

Ares, God of War jumped slightly at the bellowed summons from his uncle, Hades, Lord of the Underworld. He ground his teeth, trying to turn the annoyance into a grin at the young lady he'd been chatting up, as well as her even prettier young male companion. He'd been envisioning a relaxing evening of fornication, having just gotten back from the disappointing cease fire in the former U.S.S.R., when the silent demand on his time came. In an angry flash of light, he disappeared, wiping the mortals' memories of him as he went. So much for his plans for his evening's entertainment.

"This had better be good," he fumed, appearing in a shower of red light and looming over Hades, who sat comfortably on a very modern looking sofa, watching a television hooked to nothing.

"That would have to depend on what you consider good." Hades said laconically, nodding to his companion, drawing Ares attention to the mortal girl peering around him on the couch. She gazed at him out of tired, mismatched eyes, and he correctly guessed that Hades new decor had been instigated by her. His temper eased somewhat, and he wondered what was going on.

"Well, well. What have we here?" he purred, stalking around the couch to tower over Tru's seated form. He looked down on her with an expression similar to that of a cat noticing a fresh patch of catnip. Pure seduction in his smile, he posed for her benefit.

"Doesn't that chafe?" she suddenly asked, gesturing at his leathers, looking up at him without the usual admiration.

"Huh?" the God of War returned, unable to process her obvious lack of appreciation of his Godliness. He stared hard at her, abandoning the seduction angle and going for outright intimidation. The room heated up at least twenty degrees, and positively began to shiver with the effort he was putting into dominating the girl from two paces away.

"Give it up, Ares. She's not for either of us, and she doesn't get what you're trying to do," Hades said softly, lounging next to Tru, channel surfing with his power alone. He brought forth another couch, forming a corner with the one he and Tru sat on, and Ares sank down on it, still staring at Tru. He began noticing her dislocated aura, and followed it into her being, taking stock of the situation.

"Some idiot gave her to Strife?" he demanded of Hades in irritation, seeing the signs on her. He made a face of disappointment, then the charming mask was back, a slight grin on his saturnine features. Leaning  forward, he asked, "So, little girl, if you belong to my nephew, why are you here with Hades?" Ares loved a mystery, and this promised to be at least amusing.

"Are you done with the 'naked merciless force' thing?" she shot back sourly, glaring. Her bouts of apathy interspersed with prickly aggression were piquing Ares' interest.

"Impudent. Hmmm, I might like that." A huge smile split his beard, flashing sharp white teeth. He sat at the edge of the couch, reaching out to grasp her hand. At the contact, she drew back, a hiss of  breath escaping her, her pupils dilating with distress. She snatched her hand back from his before he could do more than brush his fingers over it.

"You know, don't you, that since Strife served me, anything given to him is given to me, indirectly." he was back to the honeyed, dark velvet voice. Tru shivered, but not with longing. The hand he had touched was being scrubbed against her pant leg. She moved closer to Hades, but then shied away.

"I don't care." she informed Ares, who looked shocked. " Don't touch me." she whispered, agitated.

"Are you...is she...turning me down?" Ares began scowling, a dark thundercloud of rage building. No one turned him down. It just did not happen...unless he counted Xena....nahhh.

"I don't like being touched." she said, trying to make the insult less. It only served to further annoy the War God. Ares raised one hand, a ball of blue light coalescing in his palm. Before he could render the mortal to a briquette, however, a warm, strong hand took his wrist from behind. The ball dissipated, and Ares swung around on whoever dared stop him. The rustle of wings was very loud in the silent Hall of Hades. Cupid, God of Love, had received a vague message from his mother, Aphrodite, and, curious, had decided to investigate.

"You don't want to do that," Cupid advised softly, not flinching from the snarl Ares sent his way. "If you do, we won't know what happens next."

"Maybe he should." Tru stated, not in the least phased by being in the presence of three gods.

"Do you hang with divinity so often you can't even get a little freaked?" Cupid directed to Tru, and she shrugged in response, her eyes lacking any luster, her face blank.

"I never saw a God before today. Sure, I prayed once in a while, but that's how I was raised. You guys never answered before, so, sorry if I don't seem more impressed, but I really just wish I'd never even heard of you. Any of you." she said in a monotone.

"Serious downer. What's her trip? Mom said I should be here, so spill." Cupid stayed far away from Tru, leaning his hip against the arm of the sofa on the opposite side of Hades. The Dark God looked up at Cupid from his channel surfing, and shrugged.

"She's for Strife, and he's not here any more. I released him years ago. I thought he'd take up with you lot again." Hades was intrigued with the things Tru had advised him he needed, and wanted to explore them, not have this conversation with his relatives.

Cupid huffed a moment, then settled his wings with a sigh and went to crouch in front of Tru. Ares made a point to ignore them all, sulking, turned away, his booted feet up on the couch.

One long, beautiful hand reached out to caress Tru's face, and she pulled back, not wanting the contact. " 'S' part of the curse, I think. I learned a long time ago not to touch. It feels bad." she said, sinking further into depression. Cupid looked deep into her, his hazel eyes soft. There was something not quite right with this woman, aside from the obvious. He determined to investigate.

"I'd think the touch of a God would be a bit different, mortal." he reached for her again, and she let him. His tapered, strong fingers brushed the hair back behind her ear, and she shook. Cupid's brows drew together and he cupped her face in both hands. With a cry that startled both the other Gods, he pulled his hands away, falling back onto his rump.

Ares began snickering at the sight of his son knocked on his ass by a weak little human. Cupid looked dazed, and shook his head to clear it. "Trouble..." the blond God muttered, and stared at her.

"Yeah?" she asked in return.

"I don't think he was talking to you," Hades opined, turning the t.v. off. He sent a snap of power at Ares, knocking his feet off the furniture. The War God sneered and plopped them right back up onto the seat.

"You really are an asshole," Tru announced, and the silence was deafening. Cupid winced, not even wanting to see  the result of her direct insult to his father, and Hades sighed heavily, wondering what he'd have to replace, the room or the whole hall. For a long moment nothing happened, then Ares started shaking, first his shoulders, then his whole body. Muffled snorts came from him, then a few coughs, until he was howling with laughter. Cupid watched in awed horror as the mirth collapsed the God O' War, his arms wrapped around his ribs, rolling on the couch, and finally falling off onto the floor.

"He's finally cracked." Cupid breathed, aghast.

"I always knew he had a warped sense of humor, but I didn't think it was this bad." Hades seconded, lifting his bunny slippered feet to avoid the writhings of his nephew. Unfortunately, Ares saw the offending footwear, and burst into hysterical gales of helpless laughter again.

Cupid sniffed, folding his arms across his chest after he rose to his feet, shaking his wings out to settle his feathers. "What is so fucking funny?" he finally demanded, biting off each word.

"Hooo! I haven't heard that since the last time I saw my pale squishy nephew, what...it must have been 75 years ago. That's exactly what he said to me." Ares cut his eyes to Hades, who draped the trailing hem of his robe over his feet. "Not to mention those excruciatingly sweet slippers...oh the pain..."

"Oh...piss off." Hades snapped, flicking a weak globe of energy at Ares halfheartedly, not unlike a towel snapped at a buddy's ass in a locker room. Ares began laughing again, though more quietly. Cupid watched them for a moment longer, then shook his head and zeroed in on Tru again. She was barely paying attention to the Godly merriment of Ares, or the taciturn responses from Hades. She acknowledged his presence only by shrinking back from him.

"I want to find out why it hurts to touch you." he said to her, voice low, pitched so only the two of them would hear. She tipped her head back to look at him, and shrugged.

"You and me both, God of Love. It didn't  start getting really bad until a few months ago. I've always been a little prickly, a little suspicious, but the whole touching thing...." she shrugged again.

"What started it?" Cupid sat on the adjacent couch vacated by Ares, who was sprawled on the floor by Hades, deep in discussion about something esoteric.

Tru looked at him closely, a harsh light in her eyes. " Why do you care?" she radiated a serious lack of trust, skepticism radiating at the blond, handsome God in front of her.

"I am the God of Love. Think about it. Touching kind of falls under my aegis, now doesn't it?" he was softly mocking, in a charming sort of way. Tru was shocked out of her doldrums enough to smirk at him.

"You're a pretty funny guy...for a God." she offered, and he gave a short bark of laughter, relaxing back into the sofa, then lurching forward as his wings bound uncomfortably. He rearranged himself and leaned back again. Tru watched his contortions with interest, remaining silent, a small grin on her face.

"I'm glad you find me so amusing," Cupid announced, glaring at her in mock indignation.

"It started one night about six months ago." Tru began, and Cupid's attention riveted on her, even though he wasn't really expecting to get an answer from her, especially not one that came out of left field.

"I was out at a club, dancing...uh, this was before I lost my last job. Anyway, I met a guy, and he bought me a drink. I danced with him for a while, and we seemed to be getting along ok, but then he got a little too grabby, and I pushed him away. He was surprised, and stumbled on a chair, then everything was a blur. I woke up at home, and the touching problem started. It's not just guys, it's everybody. It creeps me out, makes me sick, and I'm afraid when I get touched." She grimaced, and Cupid delicately plucked the image of 'the guy' out of her mind.

"Ares!" he bellowed, and Tru shrank back, alarmed. Cupid flashed out and reappeared at Ares' side.

"Can't you see I'm having a conversation here?" the God of War demanded waspishly. Cupid ignored Hades disapproving glance, and Ares' scowl.

"That demented menace Deimos put the touch curse on her!" Cupid spat, waving a hand in Tru's general direction. " That's not in his hands to do. She belongs to Strife, and he slapped an 'if I can't have her, no-one will' ban on her!"

"Oh." Ares looked disinterestedly at Tru, then realization struck, and an avaricious gleam appeared in his eye. "Oh!" he repeated, and winked out, his rangy, black leather clad person rematerialising along the back of the couch behind Tru, who flinched away. His hand clamped down on the top of her head, and not too gently.

"This won't take a minute," he purred in her ear, ignoring the feelings of loathing that flowed up his arm from where he touched her. Apparently, the effect was two way if prolonged. With a small surge of power, he swept away the taint, and sneered. "Not a very good job." he commented, running his fingertips up and down her arm proprietarily, planning on a suitable reward for himself.

Tru was stunned. She sat paralyzed in shock, feeling the touch of another person for the first time in half a year. Then it registered that a God was touching her, and she swallowed heavily, the events and her own actions of the past few hours catching up with her. She was sitting in the Underworld being a shit to three Olympian Gods! She went into shock, and promptly fainted.

"Ooops?" Ares said, slipping off the back of the couch to stand as she toppled over, out cold. He raised an eloquent brow, asking, "Overkill?"

"She was right, you are an asshole." Hades commented, sniffing disdainfully.

Cupid gave them both a dirty look, and shooed Hades off the sofa, settling Tru out length wise, her feet where the Lord of the Dead had been. "Show off," he muttered to Ares, conjuring a blanket to cover her.

"So, if Strife doesn't claim her, does that mean she's up for grabs?" Ares suggested merrily, earning a speculative glance from both the other Gods.

"Good question," Cupid scrutinized the unconscious young woman. " It's been a long time." he looked pensive.

"Ow," Tru sat up, swinging her legs off the couch she'd been laying on, her hands to her head, eyes scrunched tightly closed. She could remember the strangest dream....and how did she get to be on a couch? She lived in a one room apartment with a mattress on the floor and a single chair.

"Let me help you with that," a voice like warm honey poured over her, and cool fingers touched her brow. She cringed, expecting the awful feelings to accompany the touch, but they didn't. In fact, the pain in her head abruptly vanished.

"It wasn't a dream," a harsher voice came from across the room, sounding petulant.

"Ares..." another voice, melodious but somewhat hollow, chided the pouting one. Tru's eyes blazed open, darting around. Yup. One winged Love God in front of her, one leather-stud War God off to  her left, and one pale, bunny- slippered Dead God near him. She wanted to faint again.

"So how are we supposed to find Strife? And why did you let him go?" Ares snarled belligerently, stomping off in search of only he knew what.

"I let him go because I couldn't handle any more chaos. I put up with him for centuries, ruining my gardens in Asphodel, hiding Charon's boat, repeatedly letting Cerberus loose in the Elysian Fields only to have the poor hound doing tricks for the dead children...and Tartarus! Don't even get me started on that, not to mention all the paperwork he misplaced, destroyed, or misfiled. Persephone refused to come back, finally, until I dealt with him. So he went. I didn't just bend the rules, I shattered them, just to get some peace. It was just after you came to see him the last time, Ares. I sent him back to the land of the living, alive, Godhood restored, no restrictions. It was the only way he'd agree to go. I thought for sure he'd head straight to you." Hades settled down eventually, leaving both Love and War gape mouthed at his explosion.

"He's alive? Immortal? With power?" Ares finally managed, pacing.

"I just said so." Hades nodded, keeping a weather eye on Ares, wary of a fit of temper.

"And you didn't think anyone would want to know?" Cupid said softly in a hurt tone, hazel eyes misty. Hades covered his face with one hand. He'd forgotten about Strife and Cupid's association. They'd been lovers on and off for hundreds of years before Strife's death. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten. " I thought he'd go straight to Olympus. I'd no idea he just disappeared."

"He never showed up." Ares growled. " I got stuck with a blond, incompetent booby who licks things I wouldn't even blast from a safe distance, and you didn't think to tell me my best second in command was FREE?!!"

"Uh, oh." Cupid swooped on Tru, gathering her up in his arms and flashing out with her just before War had a massive temper tantrum. They popped in at Cupid's temple on Olympus in a shower of golden light and faint red hearts. He set Tru on her feet, and she promptly sank to the floor, staring up at him in amazement.

"Oh, shit. You're a God." she breathed. Her memory supplied all the snotty things she'd said, all the vague dismissals and rudeness she'd been purveying to not one, but three Gods, all day. She wondered how long she had to live. The reality of her situation fell on her with an almost audible thud.

"Hmmm, you think? I guess that would account for the wings, the temple, the power..." he let the thought sink in to her, and stood there, arms folded, looking Godly, and perfect.

Tru gulped and stammered, " Uh, I'm sorry for being such a bitch?" She blinked rapidly and winced as he waved a hand at her.

"Don't stress on it. This is a new world, after all. Kinda refreshing, actually, not to have someone falling all over themselves with sucking up. A little respect, on the other hand, would be pretty cool." he grinned, and produced a bottle of wine and two cups from nowhere. "Have a drink." he offered, then took note of her shaking hands, and prompted," Have a couple of drinks."

Tru accepted the wine he offered, knocking back two cups before she relaxed enough to look at Cupid without ducking every time he moved. They had moved to a small sea of brightly colored floor pillows, and were sprawled inelegantly over them.

"If you don't mind my saying, you seem like a regular guy." Tru eventually informed him." Not in a bad way, but I really expected the whole God experience to be a lot more intimidating, y'know, thee-and thou and whatnot. You seem pretty okay." her words were just slightly slurred, and she'd taken off the leather duster she'd received from Hades.

"Well, we're just now waking up again. For a damn long time we pretty much just slept, 'cause there were so few worshipers. Then, a few decades ago, more people began believing again, and we woke. It's nice to have followers again." he paused to pour her more wine. " Even asleep, the power we hold built from human emotion, from what we control, we just weren't aware of much without you mortals and your strong faith. Now we're back and in business, as it were."

"Huh. Why are you taking time to talk to me? And what can I do about being attached to this Strife, like some unwanted appendage?" Tru asked, pleasantly buzzed.

"I hardly think you're unwanted," Cupid said quietly, watching her over the rim of his own cup. He set it aside. " I think we can find Strife, if we really try. He can't hide forever. And as for why I'm talking to you...well. That's simple. I want to."

Ares was finally done with his anger, standing in the middle of Hades' now demolished sectional sofa/ television room. He sucked in a huge lungful of air and released it slowly through flared nostrils, glaring at Hades.

"Feel better?" Hades asked sarcastically, arms crossed and foot tapping. He gazed pointedly at his property, which lay about in several smoking piles of debris.

"Yeah, a bit. I'm still pissed, though. I'm outta here. I need to find Strife." he said shortly, and disappeared in the customary show of light.

Hades sighed, banishing the destruction with a thought, then called forth a hugely overstuffed Barca lounger and a much bigger t.v.. Settling in with a tankard of ale in hand, he resumed channel surfing, happily undisturbed.

Somewhere in the pickled depths of her mind, Tru recognized the inherent dangers in getting shit faced with a God, much less this particular God. Cupid reclined comfortably, his head in her lap, as she fed him little pieces of fruit she first dunked in the wine cup he held loosely in one hand, his other hand lazily playing with a lock of her hair that just wouldn't stay tucked behind her ear.

Her inhibitions and tongue loosened considerably by the wine, Tru told the voice in her head quite cheerfully to go the fuck away, and playfully held a strawberry just out of reach of Cupid's lips, unless he made an effort to reach it. As she did, she asked, " How come you're all alone here?"

Cupid stopped toying with her hair and looked at her with a sharp glint in his eye. It was gone almost immediately, but even in her drunken state she saw, and cringed inwardly.

"My wife and I dissolved our relationship a century after Strife was murdered. She decided she couldn't put up with my 'moping' any more, and moved on to other, more happening company. I kept things way more casual after that, 'til the long nap. Since we woke up I've been happy enough with one nighters up here on Olympus. 'S that enough dirt for you?" He sat up from her, draining his cup and refilling it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up painful shit," Tru cursed herself silently, pissed at herself for making her drinking buddy hurt. Cupid, listening in to her thoughts for a moment, realized that he was much more polluted than he had planned to be, and forgave her.

"Don't sweat it. I either get maudlin or loud when I drink too much." he soothed her, and cast a speculative glance in her direction. Deciding that the pleasant atmosphere was salvageable, he called music out of nothing and held out his hand to her, " Dance?" he offered, looking at her through half closed lids, his head down a bit so his long lashes shaded his eyes.

Tru set aside the bowl of fruit that never emptied and swung to her feet, managing not to stagger too much. Cupid smirked, sending a quick brush of power to remove her boots before she tripped over them. She smiled back at him a little dazedly, and caught his outstretched hand. Easily, he led her around the room in a slow, gentle dance, just holding her hands and avoiding too many quick spins lest she turn green. A definite downer he intended to avoid.

"What's he like?" she suddenly asked, startling the God of Love.

"He's the most annoying, impossible, obnoxious, contrary creature ever brought forth from Olympus." he answered immediately, dipping her, his wings flaring out for balance.

"You still love him." she stated, amazingly astute for one so wasted.

"Of course. I always will. I am Love." he said forthrightly, stopping their dance and holding her in his arms, staring into her odd eyes. She stared right back, curiosity and trepidation clear for him to see. She couldn't decide whether to kiss him or not. He helped her with her quandary by touching his lips to hers, no more than a chaste brush. Her arms moved with surprising strength from his shoulders to twine about his neck, pulling him even closer to instigate a far more intense meeting of their mouths, their tongues darting out to tease and taste, teeth nipping, until Tru backed away slightly, her head spinning from not enough air.

"Are you taking advantage of me?" Cupid grinned at her, slightly flushed and frankly surprised that she had responded so enthusiastically.

"Of course," she threw his own words back at him with an impish smile, and moved her hands from his hair to his back where his wings sprouted. He shivered deliciously, tightening his grip on her waist. She liked his reaction. So did he, since he swept her effortlessly up into his arms and carried her to the mound of pillows, depositing them both into the plushness.

A sudden thought made itself known to her, and she pushed at his chest with one hand, a serious expression on her face. Cupid stiffened, pulling back to look at her.

"A baby would be a very bad idea." she informed him, biting her lip. The God above her gazed at her blankly for a moment, then broke into peals of genuine, unalloyed laughter. He collapsed onto her chest, hiding his face in her hair, his arms and his wings wrapping her in a double embrace. She failed to see the hilarity in the situation, but brought her arms around him anyway, patting him awkwardly on the back. When he could control himself enough for speech, he pushed himself up off her and kissed her soundly, not to entice, but out of joy.

"I'm a comedian now?" she asked, a bit put out.

Cupid carefully arranged his pinion and settled on his side beside her, his right hand resting on her belly, his left propping his head up. A cool wave of sensation spread through her body, and she shuddered, watching him. " No children from me. It's a promise." he assured her seriously, and she nodded.

"And no icky latex. Cool." she approved, setting him off laughing again.

"What? I was just being con... conspi... conscientious." she finally managed to wrap her mind and tongue around the word.

"Most mortals I was with, well, women, anyway, were sure that a child would win me, or give them some hold on immortality." he explained, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

"Oh. Well, you're safe from me. I'm still plenty happy I can touch at all. I don' want strings attached." she snuggled closer to him, and he obliged her, their clothing vanishing, skin meeting skin.

"Wicked cool," she breathed, before he sealed her mouth with his, exploring her body with his free hand, his leg moving up between hers.

"Moping my sweet ass. You were as depressing as a picnic in the lowest level of Tartarus." Aphrodite muttered to the image of her son and the strange mortal in her scrying pool. She waved the image away and primped her hair, looking smug. " But Mama knows what's best, and Mama has a plan." she cooed to herself, applying perfume lightly to her flawless throat. She hummed to herself, not bothering to stop even when she felt the very angry presence of Ares suddenly behind her.

"Nope, bro, haven't seen him, heard from him, nada." she announced, before he could begin bellowing.

"Well...shit." he finally said, and flopped down onto the indecently frilly, pink, and enormous bed dominating the chamber.

"Why wouldn't he come to you?" she asked, tossing him a look over her shoulder before turning back to the mirror.

"If I knew that, 'Dite, I'd be in the Halls of War enjoying myself, not sitting here in this foofy nightmare you call a bedroom still trying to find him." Ares returned snappishly, and began brooding.

"Go ask Hermes. They used to be pretty chummy." she suggested, nonchalantly trying to keep him away from Cupid and her plans.

"Hmmph. Yeah. All I gotta do is find the little shit first to ask him if he's seen the other little shit. Great." The God of War winked out, preoccupied, not even noticing the flash of triumph cross Aphrodite's face.

Tru let herself lean back into Cupid's chest, and his hands clasped eagerly on her breasts, his lips on her shoulder, slowly rocking into her receptive body. Her arms reached up and back, hanging on to his neck for leverage, her legs locked around the outside of his as she moved languidly over him, soft gasps all she could manage any more. Her muscles tensed, heralding yet another climax, this one a gentle tremor, a coming down from the furious explosions they had both enjoyed. She mewled softly as his shaft jerked within her tight sheath, signaling his own release. With a sigh, he moved his hands down, wrapping his arms around her waist, cuddling her to him. Her arms released their hold on his neck and slid down, her hands caressing his face as she dropped them to stroke along his forearms.

Cupid nuzzled his face against her throat, and she leaned instinctively into the rasp of his light goatee against her skin. " You cop to the fact that a bath is next on the agenda, right?" he murmured in her ear, making her laugh.

"You damn skippy. I feel pretty sticky." she wriggled in his lap, causing an awakening stir to shift his member, still sheathed inside her.

"Now don't start that again. We've already postponed getting cleaned up four times." he chastised teasingly, lifting her off himself to stand in front of him. Her knees wobbled dangerously, and he caught her, giggling. " I almost forgot you were mortal, Tru. You're insatiable." he joked. She half turned, giving him a gamin grin over her shoulder.

"Making up for lost time?" she suggested, and he whisked her off her feet, cradling her in his embrace, an enormous vat of sweet smelling, steamy water appearing in front of them. Effortlessly, he ensconced them both in the fragrant bubbles, washing the sweat and secretions from them. At his command, the dirty water was replaced instantly with clean, and they luxuriated, companionably curled around each other.

"Sometimes it's really good to be a God," he mused, and Tru cracked open an eye, trying to pay attention. " If I wasn't, I don't think I'd have any skin left on my cock." he elaborated, and she groaned.

"Don't remind me. I'm already sore. Can't wait for the morning." Tru spoke into his shoulder. One hot, wet wing brushed softly over her back, and he chuckled, his hands grazing over chafed and abraded flesh. It healed immediately, and she sighed.

"I guess I did forget you couldn't heal yourself." Cupid said softly, and gestured briefly. Tru felt a momentary void under her, then she was warm, dry, and snuggled up next to a similarly warm and dry deity in a very comfortable, cozy, massive bed.

"Being a God does seem to come in handy," she yawned, squirming closer, her grip on consciousness loosening fast. Cupid settled her easily against him, closing his eyes, closer to content than he'd been in a long while, his last words lost to her sleeping ears.

"It's been too long since I've had a real troublemaker in my bed."

A pale, black haired, black cloaked figure loitered behind a pillar close to the Throne in the Halls of War. It watched as Ares, master of the throne, the hall, and War in general flung himself into the impressive chair, only to fly up off it with a completely undignified screech, his hand clutching his ass. He glowered, wheeling on the offending furnishing, and grabbed up an ornate tack from the seat. "Strife," he breathed, then his fist clenched around the sharp object, a thin trickle of blood running down his wrist. The fist began to glow, and the blood vanished in a puff of smoke. "STRIFE!"

The figure covered it's mouth with it's hand to keep in the shrieks of laughter that threatened, and disappeared.

Roseate light filtered across Tru's skin, and she blinked to clear her eyes, wondering where she was, and why she was under a blanket of soft white feathers. Slowly her mind clicked into gear and pieced together the events of the previous day...and night. A blush crept over her chest and face, and a deep chuckle startled her. She turned her head to behold the God of Love lying on his stomach, head pillowed on his arms, his wings stretched out in complete relaxation, the left one covering her.

"Bright good morning," he intoned with mock solemnity, before ruining the effect with another laugh, his eyes sparkling green gold. Tru giggled, rolling over under his pinion to mirror his position.

"I guess I'm gonna have to go back to real life soon." she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the thought.

"I thought you wanted to find Strife." Cupid countered, intently watching her. He resolutely stopped himself from influencing her decision.

"Yeah, of course I do. I gotta find out if this deal is negotiable, I mean, what if he just goes 'ick' and blows me away? And what the hell does being dedicated, given to him mean? What's my part of the bargain?" she fired off, raising up on her elbows, his wing sliding a bit further down her back.

"I can let you stay here while we hunt for him. I know you don't have anything to go back to, so it's cool if you hang here. After all, you don't snore." he smiled, and ducked as she forgot he was a God and swatted at him before paling and pulling her hand back.

"I'll let you know when you've done something wrong, Tru. Relax." he put her at ease, then thought about her other questions. " At any rate, I really don't think he'd go 'ick' and waste you, and if he did decide he didn't want you, I'd ask you to dedicate to me. I like you. You're a lot of fun, for a mortal." he added the last part on so she wouldn't get too ahead of herself. She just stared at him, yellow and blue eyes blank, revealing nothing of what she was thinking, and he let her keep her thoughts private, not spying on them, much as he wanted to.

"Thank you. So, what exactly is this dedication? What does it entail?" she asked seriously, quiet.

"Hmmm. It used to mean you were promised to the God or Goddess your parent or guardian dedicated you to, to be done with as they chose, at whatever time they chose. Ownership, sacrifice, bedwarmer, whatever. Usually the child would be raised in the temple, by the priests and priestesses. I haven't heard of anyone being given like that for millennia, at least, and your mother did it wrong, anyway. You weren't given to a temple to raise, you weren't told who you were promised to...if the woman were alive, I'd give her to Ares for his dog." he ended on a sour note, clearly pissed.

"Hey, I'm sorry to be a pain in the ass," Tru began softly, trying to slide out from under his wing and off the bed. He stopped her by advent of grabbing her and pulling her close, trapping her half under his body.

"I said I'd tell you if you did something wrong. I also distinctly recall telling you I liked you, so chill, okay?" he kissed her brow lightly, and she let the tension ease out of her body, relaxing under his touch.

"Since she did it wrong, does that mean it's null and void?" she ventured.

"Not. The opposite, in fact. If she'd done it right, it would've been your choice when you came of age, to live under the God's roof as a priestess, or favored servant, or to do some really insane challenge to go free. She screwed up, and you get to pay for it. You belong to Strife for eternity, Tru, unless he specifically, ritually frees you. No other oath is binding on you until or if he does." Cupid hugged her with his wing, and she sighed heavily.

"Not a big surprise that she fucked up. I guess I'm stuck for it. Hey, he won't be pissed about..." she looked meaningfully at the bed, and him, then  herself.

"He shouldn't. There's nothing binding between us, and you weren't forbidden from associating with me by him. After he finds out, he may decide to keep you to himself, though."

"Huh. If he won't be cheesed, then cool. Gee, I guess I can stay for a while, then." she grinned over at him, and he breathed a sigh of relief, partly that she wasn't having hysterics, and partly that she'd decided to stay for a while. He'd forgotten how entertaining a mortal 'friend' could be.

"Hey, Cupid, where's the bathroom?"

Strife, formerly dead, God of Mischief, sat unobtrusively in a shadowed corner of Hades new 'entertainment room', staring in disbelief as the Dark God laughed himself silly watching a Marx Brothers movie, his feet up on the recliner, a bowl of popcorn in his lap. Strife concentrated on keeping himself hidden to Hades for a little while longer; he'd had plenty of practice while he'd been dead, after all. He was a master at making himself as unobtrusive as furniture when he wanted to.

"If I didn't see it, I woulda never believed it." he finally said, loudly, startling Hades. His popcorn went flying, and he leapt up out of the chair. "Strife!" he shouted, half in outrage, half in relief.

"Hiya, Tall, Pale and Creepy." he said, and Hades snorted. He glared at Strife, then resumed his seat.

"Had a look in a mirror, lately, brat?" Hades asked snidely, and restored his snack bowl to it's former position. " I thought I told you not to come here once you were released."

"Yeah, but'cha didn't say how long I had to stay away. Besides, things're goin' down. I figure you know the score, since you been havin' so many visitors'n all." He paused, scooping a handful of popcorn from the bowl to his mouth and chomping away.

Hades scowled, then demanded," Why didn't you rejoin the others on Olympus when I let you go?"

"They didn't need me around enough after that psycho-loony bitch did me in to get me outta here, an' when I did get out, they were all half asleep, like those spooky fuckers down in Tartarus. I bailed. I guess they woke up, huh?" he exuded nonchalance, but Hades knew him all too well. He could see the wounded look in Strife's eyes.

"Ares was awake. He never fully succumbed to the lack of followers. You could've gone to him." He pointed out.

"Right. Be errand boy number two for Unc? Get shit from that Deimos freak? Hey, I may be a little unbalanced, but he's like Callisto's half wit brother. Not a friggin' chance." Strife hissed, and perched himself on the arm of Hades' chair, the concept of personal boundaries conveniently escaping him.

"Did you know Cupid was here looking for you? Did you know you've gotten a mortal promised to you, and that she got herself cursed by Deimos because she not only turned him down, she knocked him down?" Hades asked slyly, eager to get Strife out of his hair, and knowing the best way was to make him think leaving was more interesting than staying to annoy the God of the Dead.

"Izzat a fact?" One fine, dark brow rose in consideration, his strange, changeable light eyes calculating.

"Mmm. In point of fact, she informed your Uncle that he was an asshole. To his face." Hades sweetened the pot.

"Ooooh, and she's still alive?" Strife's attention was caught. Hades mentally rubbed his hands in glee.

"The old War Horse fell off the damn couch laughing. That was, of course, before he found out you were alive again and threw a fit, destroying the room. Cupid took the mortal away, for safe keeping."

"So I had a mortal. Wonder how that happened," he mused.

"Correction, you still have a mortal. It was a bungled dedication. Makes it permanent, unless you say otherwise." Hades prompted.

"Yeah, right. She'll definitely come a'runnin' ta me after a loathsome time with the God of Love. Mm-hmm. Writin' this down, gotcha." Strife folded his arms, the black leather creaking, the safety pins holding the outfit together glinting.

"She's yours, twit. Cupid's just 'baby-sitting' her. Her name's Trouble, by the way, and she has the most appalling luck follow her." Hades was almost down to his last trump card in his bid to get rid of Strife without forcibly ejecting him from his domain.

"Izzat so?" Strife mulled it over. " Maybe I should go take a look-see."

"Hmmm." voiced Hades, and breathed a sigh of relief when Strife winked out.

"Yes!" Aphrodite pumped one fist in the air in victory, and reminded herself to do something really nice for Hades, he'd forwarded her plan without his even knowing about it. She banished the handheld scrying mirror and pirouetted in place, grooving to her own beat. Her husband, Hephaestus, God of the Forge and Fire tromped in, his lame leg making him loud. He caught sight of Aphrodite doing a happy dance and cringed, about to turn around and head back to the dubious safety of his forge, when she noticed him.

"Hephy!" she squealed, and pounced, enveloping him in a rose scented embrace.

"You're scaring me, 'Dite," he only half joked, but returned her huge hug, before disentangling himself and stepping back. "What are you up to?"

"Me? Only being a good Mom." she giggled, and dragged him off toward the bed chamber. Worried or not, he wouldn't turn down the invitation.

Ares stood stock still, his back to the wall. He was busily trying to sneak past the sleeping form of Dionysus, who was sprawled in a drunken stupor over a wide dining couch, surrounded by a bevy of similar mortals, Gods, and the occasional animal, all of whom were naked and reeking of alcohol. He was looking into the faces of the individuals at the bottoms of the piles, hoping he'd find his missing godling. After all, who could resist a party at Dionysus'?

A long, pale hand extended from under a heavy tapestry, and Ares whipped it off, revealing a very disturbing sight: Deimos, eewww, naked, slack jawed, out cold, with the body of Psyche draped over him. Double eewww. " Ungrateful pair of bitches," he growled at both of them, and flung the tapestry back down over them. Not finding whom he was looking for, he ground his teeth, and left in a swirl of smoke and light.

"Cupid?" Tru asked, her eyes full of soap, groping blindly for a towel at the edge of the sunken bath she sat in.

"Nope. Try again," an amused voice suggested.

"Eeep!" she squeaked, and dropped down under the waist high water, hiding and rinsing in one move. When she resurfaced, she remained neck deep in the water, eyeing the newcomer warily. "Can I help you?" she asked tartly, and her visitor gave a low laugh that set her teeth on edge and set a fire in her belly- and lower- all at the same time.

"I'll just betcha can, Red." he smirked, and stood up from where he'd crouched. Tru's eyes followed him, taking in his shape. He was tall, slim, and pale, with dark hair that jaunted off at spiky angles. His leather and safety pin catsuit and boots held her attention, until he cleared his throat. " Like whatcha see or just shoppin?" he asked.

Tru reddened, and turned her gaze to searching for her towel. It wasn't where she'd left it. "Shit," she breathed, and jumped when it materialized in front of her face. Her hands shot up out of the water and grabbed it before it could fall. She turned and glared daggers at the intruder, then calmly walked up the steps and out of the water, wrapping the towel around herself at the top, but not before giving the strange God an eyeful. He whistled, causing another blush.

"Nice ass," he allowed, and turned around and walked out.

"You, too," she whispered to his retreating back. She didn't see the smile on his face when he heard the soft comment she had meant to be for her ears alone.

With a speed she hadn't known she possessed, Tru ran like hell through the bedroom and out into the pillow strewn room where she'd been divested of her clothes, hoping to find them. She was in luck. They lay in a neat pile next to her boots and duster, just off to the side of the mound of pillows. Quickly she snatched them up, glad that Hades hadn't thought to include underwear with his gift, for the sake of getting the clothing on fast. She left off the boots and coat, and set to finding Cupid.

Strife, invisible, followed her, enjoying the show.

Rounding a corner, Tru skidded to a halt, staring around the audience chamber where she'd been told by Cupid to meet him. He was there, reading a petition on a scroll. At her abrupt entrance, he lowered it, and was shocked at her appearance. Her hair was wet and hanging in her face, her clothes were obviously thrown on in a hurry, and her face was red.

"What happened to you?" he asked, concern warring with amusement.

"Man...God, in the bath...leather." she gasped, trying to catch her breath.

Cupid rose from the cushion he'd been sitting on and took her by the shoulders, shaking gently. " A god in the bath? Wet leather can be so annoying..." he all but laughed in her face, and she pushed her hair out of her eyes, glaring at him.

"I didn't mean in the water, I meant in the room." she grated, stomping one bare foot in a gesture reminiscent of his mother. Cupid grinned outright, then stiffened, feeling the presence of another God. He looked around, expecting to see Ares, come to spirit Tru away. He saw nothing

"Wassup?" a disembodied voice asked, and Tru twisted around in Cupid's grasp to try and pinpoint the source.

"Strife?" Cupid's voice was strained, his hands clutching painfully into Tru's shoulders. She gritted her teeth, her fingers plucking at his to remind him she was there. He noticed, and let her go.

"I hear you were lookin' for me." Strife coalesced from a ball of blue light, leaning indolently against a pillar, cleaning his nails with a small but wicked looking dagger.

At first Cupid was still and silent as a statue, then he was across the chamber, Strife crushed in his arms, feverish kisses pressed to his face and neck. For a moment he didn't respond, startled, then his arms returned the embrace, his mouth capturing Cupid's, drinking his kiss like a fine wine. Tru watched with amazement, hugging herself in delight as the emotional reunion unfolded in front  of her.

Eventually the kiss ended, leaving them both flushed and breathing shallowly. " I missed you," Cupid announced, somewhat unnecessarily, not releasing Strife from his grip. The slighter, darker God chuckled, a seductive sound, and writhed out of Cupid's hands, stepping back.

"I guess I heard right." he teased, a slightly crooked grin on his face. His attention turned to Tru. "Whatcha lookin' at?" he demanded, watching her reaction with calculating eyes.

"Two cute guys gettin' smoochies?" she hazarded with a grin, happy for them, and not a little titillated by the show they had given her.

Cupid tried to cover a laugh with a sudden cough, and failed miserably. " I think you'll like her," he said to Strife, who looked her over in detail.

"I liked her better in the bath with no clothes on." Strife returned, arching an eyebrow suggestively.

Tru scowled, her arms crossing protectively over her chest." Rude, much?" she asked, embarrassed.

Cupid looked from one to the other, then began sputtering with helpless laughter, his eyes tearing, his face red, a few feathers shaking loose from the force of his mirth. Both Strife and Tru turned to glare at him, nearly identical expressions of disbelief doing nothing to calm the God of Love.

"I can't believe I didn't see it before!" he gasped, and they waited for him to expound on his discovery. " The two of you... you're perfect!"

Strife was fairly certain a mental breakdown of some sort was occurring, and scrutinized his winged former lover with alarm. Tru just waited, trying to keep both Gods in her line of sight at all times.

"Don't you get it? " Cupid demanded of Strife, grabbing his chin and directing his gaze at Tru. "She's just like you. She talks like you, stands like you, even gets the same look in her eye as you. C'mon, lover, don't tell me you can't see it," he cajoled, and Strife went cool in his grip.

"So she's me, huh?" he asked in a hard voice, hiding the pain Cupid's words caused. "I guess she can take my place, huh?"

Cupid looked at him like he'd suddenly turned into Athena. This had somehow gone wrong very fast. He reached out to put a hand on Strife's shoulder, but was violently shoved away. Tru saw the pain in Strife's eyes that Cupid missed as the God of Mischief turned away. Angry, now, Cupid growled, moving in to grab Strife, but Tru got in his way.

"Move, Trouble." he rasped, wings mantling, ready to shove past her.

"Apologize." she commanded, her back to Strife's. She felt the slim body behind her tense, but ignored it, trying not to wonder how much it was going to hurt when Cupid put her through a wall.

"You are pissing me off, mortal. I have nothing to apologize to you for," Love growled, looking far more like his father than his mother for once.

"Not me, him," she managed to croak through her fear, standing straight even though her legs threatened to collapse under her.

"Huh?" came the intelligent response from both males, Strife twisting around to catch a glimpse of Tru's face. She was terrified, paler than milk, and clearly braced for a blow, but she wasn't moving. Cupid's anger turned to confusion as he searched both of the black clad, thin bodied trouble makers before him with his powers. Strife was a roiling ball of hurt, rejection, fear and bitter love, and Tru was similarly conflicted, but with loneliness, protective anger, and desire prominent, overlaid with absolute terror. The Love God's wings slicked back in abject remorse. He had done this.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, contrite. Strife whirled in place and caught Tru as her knees buckled, before she could measure her length on the floor. He gazed into Cupid's pained face and couldn't hold back a nervous, high pitched giggle.

"Still got 'em fallin' atcher feet, huh, Cupe?" he needled, swinging the mortal...no, HIS mortal into his arms. She squirmed, trying to get loose, but stilled at a quick squeeze from Strife, letting him hold her like a baby.

"I don't know what just happened," Cupid winced, summoning a chair and sinking into it. Strife did the same, still cradling Tru, who wisely remained silent, hoping they'd forget she was there.

"Duh," Aphrodite sneered, popping into view between them. Cupid covered his face with his hands, and Strife rolled his eyes. " This has been a long time coming, and I want it settled now." she informed them tartly, affectation gone. " I went to a ridiculous amount of effort to engineer this meeting, and I won't have you screwing it up."

"Y' wanna run that by me again, 'Dite?" Strife glared at her suspiciously. She sent him a quelling look.

"  Hello? My son has been mourning you for millennia, you brat. You've been out of the Underworld for decades, and lurking around like some gremlin, refusing to come to him, and he ..." Aphrodite was cut off by Cupid's hiss of outrage.

"Mother!" he burned her with his indignant exclamation. She ignored his outburst, and plowed on.

"As I was saying, I have had enough. You are both old enough to stop this stupid misunderstanding, but you won't, so I had to step in. I arranged for Tru to be born, and I have overseen her life, waiting for her to try and find her master," she threw a glare at Strife, who winced. " Every coincidence has been geared toward this little reunion, and I will not allow you two to blow it!" she snapped, tapping her foot.

"Are you nuts?" Tru couldn't take it for a moment longer. She burst out of a surprised Strife's arms and landed on the floor, advancing on Aphrodite, who actually took a step back at her temerity. Cupid's mouth hung open, as did his erstwhile lover's. " I am not a game piece, lady. You ruined my life so you could manipulate theirs? What kind of a mother are you? I thought mine was bad, but she was just stupid. You couldn't have just sat down with either or both of them and had a little heart to heart? You had to make a big scene, cause havoc, and generally fuck everything up?" she started softly, and ended up screaming. Aphrodite's face was flushed, her fists clenched, and she had blood in her eye.

"  As if! You served your purpose, bug. Now you're toast." she pulled back one arm to flatten Tru, but Strife intervened, grabbing Tru from behind and tossing her effortlessly to Cupid, who shook himself out of his daze enough to catch her.

"Nuh-uh, 'Dite. She's mine. You had her dedicated to me, so lay off."  he grinned, and had to admit, even if just to himself, that he liked Tru's spunk. She'd be fun, if she didn't get herself killed. He glanced over to Cupid, who shoved the mortal behind him, shielding her with his wings.

"Listen to me, Mother. Stay out of this. Leave Strife alone, leave Tru alone, leave me alone. Is that simple and to the point enough for you?" Cupid snarled, latching on to Strife and pulling him back to hold him against his body, the three of them in solidarity against her. Aphrodite just stood there, shaking, her face a mask of cold fury, her perfect hair in disarray, waves of rage surging around her. With a final hiss like a wet cat, she flung up her arms and disappeared.

"Well. That was a kick in the balls," muttered Strife, not really trying to get away from Cupid's hold on him.

"Hot damn." Tru whispered, and fell in a heap on the floor behind Cupid, both Gods turning to stare at her unconscious form in amazement.

"Whoooo!!!" Aphrodite landed with a puff of displaced air in the center of her bed, her thick goose down pink comforters fluffing around her. Hephaestus dismissed the scrying mirror at her dressing table and turned to his wife.

"Too bad awards aren't given for the Goddess most out of character. You'd be a sure bet," he rumbled, laughing. He went to join Aphrodite as she beckoned him from her island of pink frills.

"It was starting to go really wrong, they weren't saying what needed to be said, and I had to get the ball rolling somehow. I figured just enough of the truth to get them to bond against me, a little attitude, and a volatile mortal in the mix ought to do the job." Aphrodite smoothed the hair out of his face where he habitually let it fall to hide his scars.

"Athena could take lessons in tactical maneuvers from you, love." he nuzzled her neck, and she giggled.

The Big Bad God Of War sat glumly on his throne, chin on fist, elbow on drawn up knee, staring at nothing. He'd combed every hidey hole he could think of, and then some. Nothing. Not even a shed safety pin. He was not in a good mood. Then it hit. A wave of Godly anger, coming from his son, Cupid. He perked up instantly, calling forth a window in the air to watch whatever had pissed off the God of Love so much that the rest of Olympus would feel it. He sat in gaping surprise as the confrontation with Aphrodite played out, his narrowed gaze immediately targeting Strife. His temper flared, then took a back seat to amusement as Strife's little mortal reared her head and told Aphrodite off. Rough guffaws echoed off his black walls, then ceased as he thought about how to use the tableau to his best advantage.

"'Kay, shoot." Strife lounged among the pillows on the floor, Tru snugged up to his side as a security blanket, out cold. Cupid sat at a small distance from them, hugging his knees to his chest.

"I did miss you." he began, looking up through his lashes at Strife, who watched him back, on guard. "I didn't handle it well when you...died. I freaked, majorly. I tried everything to get you resurrected, but I got shot down every time. I finally gave up."

"But'cha didn't come to see me." Strife stated, brushing his hand over Tru's hair absently, like a touchstone. He didn't really seem to be aware he was doing it.

"I couldn't. It hurt too much. And then Psyche decided I was wallowing too much in the past, in memories of us, and demanded a divorce....I don't remember too much of the next few hundred years, except for vague memories of way too much time spent at Dionysus' place. I was through with emotional entanglements, and with mortals." Cupid gave a bitter laugh," Like that? God of Love hiding from emotions? Mom didn't. She kicked my ass back to work, but it wasn't the same."

"So ya had a while ta forget about me. Did it work?"

"Not. I loved you then, I love you now. Never stopped." Cupid wiped his face with the back of his hand, scrubbing away the suspicious moisture.

"So then what's the story with my mortal?" Strife prompted, not willing to let the matter rest till he'd heard it all.

"After we started gaining worshipers again, I did my job, but stayed up here on Olympus. I hadn't dealt personally with a mortal since Psyche left me. Then Mom told me there was something going on at Hades', and I should go check it out. I saw her. Never got a reaction from a mortal like I did from her. She treated me like I was just another guy, and not a real cool one at that. Then she called Dad an asshole, and I was hooked. I had to at least get to know her. She got the ban from Deimos, but I got Dad to take it off. One thing led to another, and bang! There it was. She's a hell of a lot of fun, and I didn't realize how lonely I'd been...just for a friend." Cupid's words died out, and he twirled a shed feather in his fingers, waiting for Strife to decimate him.

"Y'know, I ,uh...love ya, Wings." Strife's voice was uncharacteristically gruff, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, clinging to Tru as he would a teddy bear. He raised his eyes to meet Cupid's and found himself drowning in green-gold light. The moment was broken by Tru groaning in pain at the way she was bent by Strife, and the tightness with which he gripped her.

"You're gonna break her if you aren't careful." Cupid advised, a silly grin on his face, which Strife answered with one of his own. The God of Mischief eased her into a more natural position and helped her to sit up.

"So how's it feel to get your own personal God, girlie?" he beamed down at her, and she stared up into his strange pale eyes with her own odd mismatched ones and grimaced.

"Like somebody used me to scrape the shit off the Grand Central Station bathroom floor, then dragged me thru the East River. How's by you?" she retorted, throwing him into a giggling fit.

"It's not my job to report to you, nephew," growled Hades, locking his crystal blue eyes with Ares' chocolate brown ones, refusing to be intimidated in the least by the other God's fit of pique.

"You could have told me he was here to see you." Ares spat, using the excuse of turning away to pace to drop his gaze from the contest of wills first.

"The operative phrase there being, ' to see me'." Hades rebutted, trying to watch the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Special around Ares' pacing back and forth. " I can't see through you, you know."

"And...? This is more important than filling your eyes with cheesecake models." Ares seethed, standing to block the screen entirely.

"I don't agree. You gave up any hold on Strife when he died. He owes you nothing now. I suggest that if you want him to run errands for you again, you find some way to entice him, because you can't command him any more. I'd also suggest you haul your admittedly charming ass out from in front of my program before I send you so far down in Tartarus it'll take you years to get back up, even being a God." Hades said calmly, but with steel in his tone. Ares knew he'd best not push any further, and vanished.

Strife lay on his belly, lazily tossing grapes into Cupid's mouth, while Tru related the story of Deimos in the bar, lying on her back, her head pillowed in the small of Strife's back.

"So what did it feel like?" Strife asked, his fingers trailing along Cupid's jaw as he chewed.

"Kinda, sorta...umm, like when you lose a tooth? That aching empty hole that you can't help but stick your tongue in, only a hundred times worse, all over my body." she tried to explain, but was interrupted by the snickering of two Gods.

"...Stick your tongue in..." Strife covered his mouth with one hand, eyes dancing. Cupid was much worse, laughing, rolling among the pillows.

Tru sat up, eyeing them with displeasure. "You two are like a divine Beavis and Butthead, and I can't tell which is which." she informed them, and they immediately began the impressions. Tru grabbed up a pillow and smacked Cupid in the head with it.

"You realize this means war," Strife was up in a blink of an eye, armed with two pillows, as was Cupid, predatory looks on their faces. Tru caught up a secondary cushion in defense, and the fight was on.

Ares arrival was silent, no fanfare as he leaned back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, one foot up behind him braced on  the wall. He watched the trio beating the stuffing out of each other and the pillows, feathers and down falling like snow, coating the combatants in fluff. He cleared his throat over the shouts and giggles, and all activity ceased.

"Whatcha want?" Strife asked, not terribly happy to see his uncle, whom he'd been avoiding since his release.

"Is that any way to greet your nearest and dearest?" Ares gave a mock pout, raising his eyebrows at Strife.

"You're neither. I'll ask again, whatcha want?" Strife's shoulders hunched a bit, but he showed no sign of bending his neck to Ares' yoke again. Ares was not pleased by the cool reception.

"I want you to take your place at my side again, of course," Ares assured him with forced jocularity, hands sweeping out to his sides in a welcoming gesture.

Tru and Cupid moved to flank Strife, then inched forward to stand slightly between the God of War and his former second in command.

"In a word, no." Said Strife, his posture tensing for a lot of pain, but his tone firm.

"NO??!" Ares roared, springing away from the wall, up on the balls of his feet, ready to smear Strife all over the chamber. Cupid stepped directly in front of Strife, shielding him with widespread wings, and Tru, not unlike a loyal but foolish pit bull, waded into the drama, chin out thrust, poking the God of War in the chest with one finger. It startled him so much he did nothing but stare down at her in shock as she told him off, one hand on her hip, the other shaking a finger at him. Eventually, he paid attention to what she was saying.

"...and furthermore, you enormous prick, why don't you pick on somebody your own size?" she glared up at him, face aglow with righteous fury, lower lip stuck out, feathers and fluff coating her hair and clothes. Ares couldn't stand it. He coughed to hold back the howls of mirth that threatened to explode from him, and picked a feather from her hair, flicking it away with a casual toss of his hand.

"This is a good look for you," he managed mildly, and glared at his son and nephew over her head. They, too, were speechless, and his need to giggle outweighed his need to exact retribution for being refused. He decided to come back and finish the job when he wasn't quite so amused; he could hardly keep a straight face as he assured them, " This isn't over."

"Didja get dropped on yer head as a baby?" Strife demanded, skirting around Cupid to wrap Tru in a tight hug, hardly able to believe Ares hadn't eviscerated her on the spot. The enormity of what she'd just done dawned on Tru, and she began shaking, then giggling hysterically. Cupid finally remembered to breathe, and joined the embrace, surrounding them both with his wings, like a mother bird with chicks.

"You really need to get a grip on that mouth." Cupid said finally, and Tru responded with hiccups, nodding furiously. Strife took hold of the sides of her head and forced her to meet his gaze.

"Why in Tartarus did you do that?" He asked, and she shrugged, still hiccuping. Cupid, wanting to hear the answer, touched her between the breasts, and the hiccups stopped. She sighed in relief. and tried to explain herself.

"I have no flippin' clue. He just pissed me off, hurting Strife..." she paused, thinking back, " just like I got ticked when you did," she glanced at Cupid, " and when Aphrodite went ballistic. I guess I  _was_  dropped on my head." she grinned at Strife, a bit uncomfortable.

"Nobody ever stuck up for me before," Strife mused, one arm thrown around her shoulders, the other around Cupid's waist. He looked pensive, a moment, then a devilish grin creased his face. "Hey, Tru. Wanna get Deimos back?" he asked, eager to ease the stress of Ares' visit, and change the subject.

Tru thought about it a moment, then returned the grin, making Cupid glad those two weren't plotting against him. "Yeah. I got a great idea, if you're willing to supply the 'oomph'," she said, and Strife nodded, steering them back toward the severely mangled pile of pillows.

"This place is a mess," observed Cupid, plopping down, sending up a cloud of pillow stuffing, as did Tru and Strife. He raised a hand to make it all go away, but Tru latched on to his wrist, halting him.

"I have a use for it." she assured him, and he waited.

"Okay, hit me," Strife leaned forward, waiting to see if she had the true gift of pranking in her.

"We'll need a bucket of pine sap, all these foofy bits, and your power to make it stick, no matter what he does, at least until he does something really, really embarrassing, in public, with witnesses. He's gotta know a God did it, and he's gotta do his penance before the stuff'll come off." she told them.

"Ooooh, I like it. Not terribly painful, at least physically, but then he'd probably like pain. 'Kay, you got it, toots. Here we go. Hey, what's his penance gonna be?" Strife wondered, while Cupid hid a chuckle at the look on her face: vengeful and content, all at once.

Hephaestus got rid of his spy mirror, leaning back against his forge and chuckling, rubbing his chin musingly with his good hand. Aphrodite had been dead on with her choice of the mortal to be given to Strife, and she made a pretty good connection with his step-son as well. She definitely needed a shield of some sort, though, since she quite plainly couldn't keep from leaping to the rescue whenever either of the empowered, immortal, and fairly indestructible Gods were threatened.

"Perhaps 'Dite thought they needed a guardian," he murmured aloud, a far off look in his eye. "Hmm. That's do-able." he ambled to one of the numerous workbenches littering the shop, and sorted through the detritus of countless projects, until he found what he was looking for. Gathering several delicate tools, he twisted three slim rods of metal together, one silver, one gold, one steel, and began working, focusing his power on the metal to bind it into one alloy and bending it to his will.

Deimos awoke to something tickling his nose, and raised a hand to brush the offending irritant away. Psyche was long gone, and the tapestry that had been covering the two of them was feeling distinctly sticky. He staggered to his feet, trying to wipe his hands over his face, and recoiled in disgust as he noticed the feather impregnated pine tar covering them. A quick glance in a mirror on the wall revealed his entire body had been similarly decorated. He shrieked in rage and horror when he discovered that all his efforts to remove the tar and feathering were useless. Naked, he transported himself to Ares' temple, yelling for his father.

"What in Tartarus have you done now?" Ares demanded, trying to take his eyes off the vision in front of him, snickering. He knew exactly what had happened, but wanted to hear Deimos' account.

"I just woke up this way!" the godling whined, flapping his arms at his sides, looking pathetic. His eyes welled up with tears and he tried to hide behind Ares when Discord flashed into the vaulted room with no warning.

"Ares, did you know Strife was...what in Hades' name did he do now?" she was sidetracked by the sight of Deimos sticky, feathered form peeking out from behind Ares' shoulder. She let out a harsh bray of laughter, pointing and slapping her thigh with her other hand.

"I was just finding out, myself. And I know about Strife." Ares stepped away from in front of Deimos, letting Discord get a good look.

"No, really, I was at a party at Dionysus' last night, and when I woke up there it was!"

"Put any bans on mortals, recently, boy?" Ares asked smirking, winking at Discord, who perched herself on the arm of Ares' throne to watch the unfolding humiliation. Deimos forehead crinkled with the effort of thinking through all the mortals he'd had dealings with in the past decade.

"Uhm, well, only one..." he began, and Ares mimed pointing a gun and pulling the trigger with one hand, a spark shooting out of the fingertip directed at Deimos, setting some of the feathers on his chest on fire. The blond yelped and beat the flame out with his hands, looking confused.

"That mortal was given to Strife, bonehead. She got Hades' attention yesterday. Ares had to remove the ban. She's with Cupid and Strife right now, probably planning how else to make you miserable." Discord snapped, shrugging at the raised brow Ares directed at her, and muttering, "Gossip travels faster than Zeus' lightning."

"I'll rip her liver out. I'll pull out her spine and floss with it." Deimos growled, but Ares whacked him on the back of his head, and he desisted.

"I hate to say it, but you're gonna have to take your medicine, kid. You messed with somebody else's property. And you did a very sloppy job of it." Ares shook his head sadly, dismissing the dejected God of Pain. He glanced to Discord, but she made a pitying face, and burst into giggles.

"So what do I do?" Deimos wailed, conjuring a towel to wrap around himself, his face scarlet.

"Go to Cupid's and grovel." Ares looked completely unsympathetic, in fact, he looked vastly amused. Shoulders slumped, Deimos vanished, both Ares' and Discord's laughter ringing in his ears.

"No, Cupid, music!" insisted Tru, letting Strife run a a brush through her hair as she sat in front of him. Cupid rolled his eyes, snapped his fingers, and the hall was silent.

"Tch'yeah, and that wasn't music?" he complained, referring to the Strains of Whitney Houston that had just been playing.

"Eeewww," chorused Strife and Tru together, then burst into giggles. Cupid shook his head sadly, reminding himself that he'd asked for this.

"Right. You choose something," he grumped, and the two on the cushions shared a conspiratorial wink. Tru pretended to think about it, then smiled sweetly. "I'm gonna regret this, I know it."

Tru leaned back and whispered something to Strife, who went round eyed, and nodded. He sprang to his feet, dragging Tru up with him, and crowed, " Music!"

Cupid winced, waiting for something deranged to melt his ears, but stared at them in wonder when a catchy beat pulsed through the huge room from nowhere. Tru immediately began singing along, dancing madly with Strife, who proved to be a damn sight more graceful at modern dance than Cupid had thought he'd be. Iggy Pop's 'Lust for Life' ringing in his brain, he also had to admit the song was apropos.

"C'mon! Don't just stand there!" Strife suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him in to join them. A wicked grin on his face, he moved to sandwich Tru, Strife in front of her, himself at her back, his hands on her hips, pulling her back to grind against him. Strife followed his lead, molding himself to her breasts, his fingers linking with Cupid's on her hips. In complete sensory overload, Tru surrendered, letting the music sweep her along, one arm twining around Strife's neck, the other up and back to clasp her hand around the back of Cupid's, drawing his head down to her level. He obliged her, lips and tongue hot on her throat and shoulder.

She moaned, and Strife took the invitation, his mouth claiming hers, devouring her, his leather covered groin pressing tight to hers with each beat of the music. Iggy Pop gave way to Red Hot Chili Peppers, but none of them noticed, other than to pick up the new beat, lost in each other.

Somewhere in the transition from Chili Peppers to Green Day, the trio managed to relocate to the enormous bed a few rooms away, clothing shed by divine command. The three creatures entwined on the red coverlet were past coherent speech, instead using raw feeling to communicate. Strife lay on his back diagonally on the mattress, Tru impaled and writhing on his thick rod, Cupid behind her, slowly easing his slickened cock into her ass. Tru stilled and cried out, sagging back into his body as she drowned in the sensation of being so intimately invaded by two Gods at once. Gradually they began moving again, in synch with each other, one gasping, moaning entity, oblivious to all around them.

Deimos, transporting into Cupid's home to abase himself, found loud music and an empty Hall. He wandered through the airy bath, then into the bedroom, where the action on the bed arrested him. Unintentional or not, he watched with interest as Cupid's long fingers made their way to the mortal woman's clitoris and stroked it swiftly, while Strife pinched and twisted her nipples, his head thrown back, his eyes rolled up in his head at the double stimulation of her tight , wet sheath and the feel of Cupid's shaft rubbing against his through the thin membrane of flesh separating them. Tru's head hung down, her hair obscuring most of her face, a constant panting groan emitting from her parted lips.

Deimos gave up the idea of stroking himself when the pine tar first rubbed painfully along his tautly erect member, and stood in the doorway achingly hard, unable to look away from every flex of Cupid's sublime flanks as he drove forward into the woman, every clench of the mortal's ass as she was pounded into from both directions, each ripple of Strife's pale, muscled abdomen as he thrust up into his mortal. His breathing grew harsh and his body unconsciously moved with their rhythm, faster and faster. He gasped out loud when Tru screamed, convulsing in the throes of a massive climax, drawing her two lovers quickly into the ecstatic abyss with her. They collapsed like puppets with their strings cut, Cupid and Tru crushing Strife into the bed, which he happily endured, until the presence of another God intruded on his senses, and he glared over at Deimos. His anger fled at the vision of the godling, naked, covered in hardened goo and feathers, his cock hard enough to cut diamonds, and no way to relieve himself. Strife began snickering, rousing the other two, who groggily turned their attention to Deimos.

Freeing themselves from each other and the bed, they rose and stalked to the voyeur, who stood warily still.

"Aww. Poor thing," murmured Cupid, circling. Strife stayed back a bit. With a thought, he cleaned them all up, but neglected to clothe them.

"Whatcha got to say for yerself, cuz?" Strife spoke up, drawing Tru to his side with one long arm. Cupid completed one last circuit and took his place at Strife's other side. he watched Deimos with his head cocked to one side, a tiny smile on his face.

"Uhhh, Sorry?" Deimos forced the word out through clenched teeth, shaking as three pairs of eyes watched him with malicious joy.

"Woof. I knew I should've grabbed that Mortal when I had the chance." Ares turned away from the window in the air, only to have his gaze settle on Discord's flushed face and glazed eyes.

"Woof is right. That was pretty hot, for a mortal." she seconded, and groaned herself when Ares fist wound into her raven hair, yanking her head back, exposing her throat to his sharp teeth and voracious mouth. She was more than ready when his hand ripped the thin strips of leather she was wearing away and he bent her over the arm of his throne.

Hephaestus grunted with approval as he held the finished product under the water in his tongs, dragging his scarred left hand across his brow. As the metal cooled, he wove enchantments into the formed bracelet, imagining the reaction to his gift-to-be.

"I don't think a simple little sorry's gonna cut it," purred Cupid, and Deimos flinched, remembering who he'd spent the night with. He watched with alarm as Tru stepped closer, gently propelled by Strife's hand on her back.

"You have three strikes against you," she told him, stopping directly in front of him, her body inches away from his bobbing, leaking erection. He gulped, painfully aware of her heat, and equally aware of the two other Gods, watching him closely. He swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on what she was saying.

"One: you were a rude, grabby shit at the club when we met. Two: you could have told me about the being dedicated thing. Three: you cursed me, you shit!" Tru saw his attention wandering to her naked breasts, and growled, reaching down with one hand and squeezing his dick hard, once, then letting go. Deimos cried out, and she backed up, capturing his gaze with hers. " Do you wanna get rid of the feather suit?" she demanded, and he whimpered.

Cupid couldn't stop himself from grinning, and, glancing to Strife, he saw the unmistakable gleam of pride in his eyes. Over Tru's head, he mouthed, "Gonna keep her?" and received an emphatic nod of 'Yes' in reply. He was more than pleased, and planned on spending some serious time alone with Strife to show him just how pleased he was.

"That stuff won't come off until you announce, in front of your peers, that you were wrong to mess with Strife's bitch, i.e. me, and swear, on your godhood, that you'll never interfere with us again." she was instructing, the swearing part a hint from Strife, since he expected retaliation if the oath wasn't demanded. The God of Mischief beamed at his mortal, then leaned against Cupid.

"She's got the balls fer this, huh?" he whispered in Cupid's ear, wrapping a comfortable arm around his waist. Cupid agreed, his own arm going around Strife's shoulders.

"Yup. Y'know, she was worried you'd reject her before you showed up." the God of Love whispered back.

Their soft conversation was interrupted by Deimos bitching loudly, but accepting his penance. He glared hatefully at all three of them, but knew he was neatly trapped. " When can we get this over with?"

"How about now?" Tru looked to Strife, who nodded.

"There's a poker game at Hermes' place, I'm pretty sure. He'll have a pretty full crowd." supplied Cupid, striding over behind Deimos to pick a towel up off the floor. He held it out to the younger God, asking, " Lose something?"

Deimos snatched it with a curse and wound it around his waist. "She goes alone." he gritted, his milky, light green eyes savage.

"Fuck that." Strife's voice was flat and ugly. He rounded on his cousin, a blond, slightly heavier double of himself, his pale grey-blue eyes hard as they bored into Deimos'. The God of Pain took a step back, not really having dealt with Strife before, and on unfamiliar ground.

"Lemme spell somethin' out for ya, cuz. Trouble is mine. I like her. If you even look at her in a way I don't like, you'll be lucky if you can still put one foot in front of the other." Strife assured him. Deimos believed him, and mumbled something under his breath. " I didn't quite catch that." he flicked out a hand suddenly, catching Deimos by the nose and applying pressure. There was no pain, but Deimos winced anyway.

"I said 'Gotcha'." he repeated.

Cupid dressed them all, except, of course, Deimos, and the four were suddenly in Hermes' temple, the trio standing beside Hermes' chair at a huge, round table occupied by Gods and mortals alike, and Deimos standing on top of the table, trying to find his footing amid a large pile of slippery poker chips. Poseidon, opposite Hermes looked up and asked blandly, "Okay, who tried to ante up a slightly used godling?"

"Sorry to interrupt your game, Hermes, but we needed witnesses for this." Cupid began, but a wave of Hermes' hand cut him off.

"No problem, Cupe. Heph's been telling us about it. Discord's got the rumor mill grinding away, but Heph said that Ares said ol' Deimos here had to take his medicine." Hermes snickered, and rough laughter echoed from no few individuals seated around the table. To Poseidon's right, Hera leaned back in her chair, a thin black cigarillo clamped between her teeth, glaring up at Deimos with her eyes narrowed to slits.

"Idiot child. Get off my winnings." she sent a small shock to the blond's foot, and he hopped off to the left, unfortunately tipping over a mortal youth's stack of chips. The handsome young man caught them, and looked over at Hera. She put a gentle hand to his cheek and shocked Deimos again. " And stay off my little friend's as well."

Taking a deep breath, Deimos loudly announced, " I was wrong to tamper with Strife's mortal, and I swear on my Godhood I'll never mess with any of the three of them, ever!" he stood there, his face crimson, clutching the towel convulsively, shaking with the need to get away and destroy something. No sooner had the words left his mouth, the solidified tree sap and pillow stuffing sloughed off his body, leaving it blotchy, red, and puckered. It also left a mound of nasty debris all over the table top. Deimos vanished immediately, and everyone present collapsed in hilarity, except Hephaestus, who rose awkwardly and advanced on Tru, snapping a bracelet on her wrist before she could move or speak.

"I just got here moments before you." he whispered in her ear, and squeezed her wrist gently.

"This'll help keep you safe. Welcome to the family." he backed off hurriedly at Cupid's worried look, grinning at his step-son.

"What was that?" Cupid raised her hand up to look closely at the jewelry, suspicious. Strife crowded close to examine it, as well, ignoring Hermes behind him demanding to know who'd clean up Deimos' mess.

"He gave it to me," she nodded at Hephaestus, who grinned at her again, then went back to studying his cards, his head bowed and his hair obscuring his face.

"That's Heph. He's Mom's husband." Cupid informed her, and she paled, tugging at the bangle, which wouldn't come off.

"Oh, no! Oh, she's still pissed and she made him do something..." she worried at her wrist, scraping the bracelet over her skin, scratching herself in her efforts to get it off. Strife's hand stilled hers, and he stroked her hair soothingly.

"What did he say?" he asked. and she calmed a bit, thinking.

"He said it'd help protect me, and welcome to the family." she reported, and Cupid gave forth a dazzling smile, relaxing completely.

"It's a gift. A shield, probably. Cool, Mom's not pissed." Cupid deduced, and looked up at a tap on his shoulder. He was surprised to see the immortal demi-god Hercules, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. He hadn't noticed him when they'd arrived, and he didn't expect to see him at a poker game with Hera. They'd mended their fences after Hercules had 'died' and assumed his immortality, but they didn't generally mix.

"Yo, Herc. 'S' up?" Strife guardedly asked. He hadn't seen the demi-god since before Callisto had killed him, and wasn't on good terms, as far as he knew.  Hercules shrugged casually, but there was something on his mind, Strife could tell.

"Not much. I couldn't resist a game at Hermes' so I came home for a while. I was wondering if your friend might want to sit in for a few hands." he gestured to Tru.

"Poker?" Tru grinned, and turned to Strife, a question in her eyes. He gave in, suspicious, but practical.

"You put up her stakes," he told Hercules, who nodded. "'Kay. We're gonna split. Hermes' ll get you home when you wanna go." he turned away, and Cupid followed suit. Before he could leave, however, he found himself spun by the shoulder and Tru plastered to the front of him, her tongue dueling with his. He broke out of his shock and responded, and let her go as she spun away.

"Thanks!" she called, as Cupid whisked the two of them away.

Right in the middle of Discord's post coital wriggling, Ares bolted off the bed, cleaning and clothing himself with a snap of his fingers. He ignored her petulant whine, and looked at himself in the mirror with satisfaction.

"Where are you going?" she glared at him, and he grinned down at her, eyes glowing.

"I'm late for the poker game, you ditz. I owe Jercules for wiping me out last time. Hey, don't be here when I get back."

Hercules gentlemanly pulled out the chair next to him for Tru, and she took the seat, giving him a strange look. He smiled down on her in a brotherly fashion, and she rolled her eyes, counting the chips he pushed in front of her.

Hermes looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and handed her the deck of cards. " Fresh meat deals." he said, and the others settled their rumps in their chairs in anticipation. A loud roar made Tru lift her hand from the cards in hesitation.

Ares popped in, yelling," Deal me in!" and snagged the chair on the other side of Tru. She flinched away, and he followed her, leaning his upper body into her personal space as he sat to whisper, " Don't worry, sweetness. All's fair in Love and War. I'm just here to win all of my brother's money." he laughed at his own pun, and she nodded mutely, scooting her chair a tiny bit closer to Hercules'.

Poseidon thumped the table, reminding her to hurry up and deal. Tru picked up the deck, shuffling one handed, and asked, "What's the game?"

Hermes snickered, answering, " Dealer's choice."

Tru grinned," Seven card no-peek, no jokers showing, red threes wild."

Hera flashed her a bright grin, and Hercules groaned, aware he'd just given entry stakes to a card sharp. He straightened in his chair, and studied Tru. Her hair caught the light and he admired the shiny redness of it , and tried to get a good look at her one blue and one yellow eye. He cleared his throat and asked her, " How are you getting along?"

"Cool. This place is pretty nice, except for people zapping in all the time uninvited." she directed the comment to Ares, who grinned charmingly at her, unabashed.

"If you think the dropping in is serious, you should probably not think about how many Gods may have been tuned in to your adventures," he said happily, and watched as her face flamed red with mortification. Just as he was about to congratulate himself for getting to her, she got a hold on herself and coughed politely.

"Well, I guess those who can't do, watch." she retorted crisply. Hera, who'd been closely observing, spewed her mouthful of beer across the table, choking on her laughter. Ares shot her a dirty look, and turned his attention to the cards she dealt him, the final card slapping down sharply in front of him. Hercules tossed a chip into the center of the table, smothering his own chuckles. The young man next to Hera folded immediately, his 'up' cards a mess. Hera anted, as did Poseidon, Hephaestus, and Hermes. A mortal next to Hermes waffled, then anted, and the girl beside him folded. Ares conjured a huge, stinky Cuban cigar, and casually tossed a chip in.

"I'm in." Tru announced, and turned in her chair to face Ares. " I hope you brought enough to share with the entire class." she said tartly, catching him with his mouth open. Hermes pounced on the comment.

"Yeah, leather man, I'll have a beer and a cheroot. Anybody else? Ares' treat." he called, and demands flew at Ares from every one. He grunted in assent, tossing a look at Tru. She grinned in return.

"Nice job seizing the advantage," he muttered, filling the orders grudgingly, and Hercules smirked.

"So, Tru, is it?" the demi-god started making conversation as they played, and Tru nodded, tossing shelled pistachios into her mouth.

"Trouble," she mumbled, then washed the mouthful down with a shot of whiskey, Ares refilling her glass immediately, anticipating the fun to be had with a drunk, fairly untouchable mortal. He'd recognized the bracelet made by Hephaestus, and was thinking of ways to circumvent it.

"Trouble?" he repeated, and she just looked at him. He ducked his head, studying his cards intently.

By the time they called a short break, the four mortals were desperate for a bathroom, and Hermes' condescendingly obliged them. The Gods sat around, waiting, counting up their takes. It appeared Ares was in the lead, followed closely by Poseidon. Tru seemed to have third place , and she began counting as she slid back into her seat, downing the shot Ares had waiting for her.

Hercules cleared his throat, and asked," Are you sure you should be drinking so much?"

Tru halted in the midst of setting the shot glass back down, and turned to stare at him. She licked her lips and smiled at him, placing the glass down with precision. " Excuse me. I didn't realize you were the monitor of this special ed. class." she said quite clearly, her eyes sparking with annoyance.

"I didn't mean to imply.." he tried to defend himself, but she shook her head, and he trailed off. Ares sat forward in his chair, waiting for the show, as did Hera, who had been silently watching since Tru had called to Hades.

"Of course you did, since you said it. I'm sure you're acting out of kindness, but I've already had a mother. I assure you, I don't need another. I'm way more aware of my limits than you are, so I'll thank you to keep your advise to yourself." Tru dismissed him.

"Oooh, that's gotta smart," Ares commented, and ducked as Tru flung a chip at him, laughing. Hera chuckled softly up her sleeve, and Tru glanced at Hercules before turning back to Ares.

"Hit me." she said, gesturing to her glass, and he did, waiting. " Got any more cigars?" she added, and he grinned, supplying that too. Tru downed the drink, and locked her teeth into the stogie, puffing away. Hercules smothered a cough, waving his hand in front of his face.

Tru grinned, dumped the lit end into her glass, extinguishing it, and gathered her chips. " Hermes, can you send me to Cupid's?" she asked brightly, and he nodded. She said to the table at large,   " It's been fun. Thanks for letting me play."

Hermes sent her off with a wink, and resumed the duties of dealer.

Tru staggered slightly upon arrival, and carefully set her chips down, a great deal more loaded than she'd let on. She straightened, and listening intently,  headed to the bedroom as quietly as she could, and halted sharply in the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight before her, and she leaned against the wall, watching.

Cupid lay on his side, worshiping Strife with his eyes, obviously besotted all over again. He held a single feather in the hand not propping his head up, and drew it lightly up and down Strife's stretched out form. From the various marks on both their bodies, they'd been quite busy while she'd been off playing cards and drinking all Ares' whiskey. She let her held breath out silently as Cupid's lips descended softly to Strife's, gentling them open for his tongue to dip in and taste. The feather never ceased it's slow movement, and Tru found herself echoing it with her hands over her own body.

Strife gasped as the feather swept over his erection, and Cupid took the opportunity to deepen and sweeten the kiss, nipping at his love's lips, his tongue teasing and taunting. A flick of his wrist brought the feather in contact with a taut nipple, making the pale God shiver, all his muscles tensing as he strove to remain still. A soft groan escaped him, captured by Cupid's mouth. Tru tried to keep quiet, her hands under her shirt, stroking her breasts, her gaze riveted to the hypnotic activity on the bed.

The God of Love traced his tongue down Strife's throat, moving to his nipple, laving it with adoring laps, scraping it with his teeth, then transferring to it's twin before trailing kisses and bites down his body, stopping at his hips. Strife bit his lip, his fists clenched on the pillow under his head, his hips jerking convulsively. Cupid took the hint and continued his path, but skirting the rigid shaft bobbing against the white flesh before him, instead of paying it homage. That hot, amazing mouth worked at the rift between thigh and sac, then continued toward the feet. Strife squirmed in impatience, his hips arching off the mattress, but Cupid would not be hurried, staying his course up the inside of Strife's other thigh before finally placing a careful, almost chaste kiss on the velvet skin of his testicles. The God of Mischief let out a sob, his voice cracking as Cupid's magical tongue snaked up the length of his erection, then enveloped it completely in wet heat.

Strife lurched up off the bed, one long shuddering scream ripped from him as he came. Cupid swallowed, moving up to cover Strife's body with his own, petting and stroking him softly as he came down. When he'd regained his breath, he whispered to Cupid, who giggled.

"You plannin' on spendin' the night over there?" Strife called to Tru, who jumped.

"You guys were just so beautiful, I didn't wanna intrude." she slurred just a little.

"Get over here, Trouble, before you fall over." Cupid ordered, and wrinkled his nose as she approached. " Booze and cigars?" he asked, brows shooting up .

"Well, Ares was supplyin' the hooch, an' then Jercules ticked me off, bein' all mommy-like all evening, so I got a smoke from bondage boy and blew it in the boyscout's face. Cheese and crackers, he's a big dork." she crawled onto the bed, sitting on the edge.

Strife's mouth hung open until Cupid reached down and gently closed it for him. The touch set him free of his shock, and he rolled, shrieking with laughter, holding his sides, tears running down his face. He grabbed Tru around the waist and yanked her fully into the bed, hugging her till she squawked.

"Oh oh oh oh ! If I even had a doubt before, I don't now! I'm keepin' you!" the God of Mischief rained kisses down on her face, and Cupid looked on with amused tolerance. Tru giggled in return, her arms wrapping around her God in return. The God of Love whisked away her smoky smelling clothes, joining their embrace.

Hercules couldn't believe it. He'd always had a good rapport with regular people. He couldn't fathom why Tru had acted as she had to him. He also couldn't believe how thoroughly Ares had cleaned him out at the table. Hera approached, slinking up to him. He acknowledged her with a short nod of his head.

"I see you've taken an interest in Strife's mortal girl." she spoke in cool measured tones, her almost colorless eyes scanning over his.

"I still think it's wrong to own mortals, Hera." he replied just as civilly.

"This child is none of your concern, Hercules. She is more Strife's than the dedication made her. She would have been for him even without it. Don't interfere this time. She won't thank you for it."

Hercules almost lost his composure, but managed a smile. " I already told her she could get away from them if she wanted, and she laughed in my face. She asked me if I was high, and why wasn't I sharing--I got the picture. I know she doesn't want to leave." he admitted. He kept himself from flinching as Hera patted his cheek before walking away.

Tru awoke to the sounds of Cupid yelling at the top of his lungs in the other room, and clapped her hands over her ears, moaning and trying to roll herself mummy-like in the blanket, only to have it yanked off her form.

"Rise and shine!" Strife hollered in her ear, and she cringed, rolling bloodshot eyes in his direction.

"That was fuckin' evil, man," she croaked, wincing as she sat upright, still holding her head, as if she were afraid it might fall off if she let go. Strife laughed at her. Very loudly.

"Bet that's the mother of all hangovers." Cupid observed from the doorway, and she growled at him, lurching in the general direction of the bathroom he'd added just for her. Both Gods watched as she stumbled through the door, admiring the marks she wore, courtesy of both of them.

"It's a good thing we don't have to wait long for the hickeys and scratches to vanish, huh?" Strife commented smugly, focused on a particularly livid and very big love bite on the back of Tru's shoulder. Cupid merely smirked and brushed his fingers across a similar mark on Strife's throat, which hadn't vanished.

"Hmm, yeah. Good thing." Cupid agreed, and winced in sympathy as Tru emerged from the lavatory. She tripped on absolutely nothing, landing sprawled across the foot of the bed. A string of curses that would have sent the bed up in flames had she been a God spewed from her mouth.

"Wow, that's impressive." Strife said, and offered her a hand up. When she reached for it, he pulled back, asking, " Did you wash that?"

Tru glared red eyed at him, looking half dead, and he took pity on her, assisting her to a standing position. She wavered, then caught her balance, her hands going to straighten her shirt. It was then she noticed that she wasn't wearing it, or her pants for that matter. She wondered briefly how the fact that she was naked had escaped her in the bathroom, then gave up on it.

Cupid cleared his throat, and she blinked at him. " We discussed it last night, and decided that Strife's not going back to Ares or his temple, at least not right now. He's gonna stay here with me." he told her.

Tru felt the familiar prickling at the backs of her eyes that heralded tears, and blinked some more to get rid of them. She nodded sharply, instantly regretting it when her stomach rebelled.

"'Kay. Gimme my clothes an' a trip back to Albany. S'been fun." she sounded better than she felt, and was glad her voice was only rough, not weak. She jumped when Strife put both arms around her from the back, and stiffened.

"You don't get it. Where I go, you go." he told her, glaring at Cupid for the misunderstanding. The God of Love put a hand over his eyes and sighed.

"You want me to hang around?" Tru knew she sounded pathetically grateful, and blamed it on the hangover. Both Cupid and Strife nodded seriously, and she grinned, then covered her mouth with her hand and made a mad dash for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

"That went well." Strife said sarcastically, sending Cupid a reproving look. Cupid just sighed again, and wandered out into his public room, thinking of all the backlogged paperwork he had: petitions, prayers, a list of people his mother wanted him to drag out the old arrows for. He wondered if he could trade the scrolls in for a laptop.

Strife bounced in, cartwheeling to a stop in front of his lover, his leather creaking. " I'm glad most of my worshipers are kids, like it was in the old days, before Ares got me into the war biz. Not that that wasn't a blast, but nowadays, blah, how boring. Nobody fights face to face; it's all done by remote. May as well be a video game." he rambled, and backflipped away before Cupid could respond. He stopped at the far wall, and spun in place, giggling softly to himself.

Cupid snorted, and summoned forth the rack of scrolls, groaning at the sight of all of them. He knew he should've updated his system.

When Tru finally made her appearance, Strife clothed her, and pulled her aside to offer her food, avoiding disturbing Cupid when he was actually at work. They sat in comfortable silence, Strife occasionally snatching a bit of fruit from her, or feeding her a bit of bread from his own platter. He found her presence calming, and enjoyed just sitting with her.

"So, Strife. Uh, that is what I'm supposed to call you? Not Master, or whatever?" she hesitated, and he grinned. She grumbled and pressed on." I realize it's kinda late for this, but, well, I gotta say I don't want kids. At least not right now. Cupid promised me I wouldn't catch from him." she waited expectantly, and was relieved to see him relax further, if that was possible- he was already sprawled bonelessly across several cushions.

"It's funny you should mention that, cuz I was gonna talk to you about that later, but I guess now's as good a time as any. I wasn't plannin' on any either, so I made sure I didn't beget anything." he gave a slow smile, and she couldn't help but return it. " Sometime later, maybe..." he finished.

Tru sagged in her seat, happy with the turn of events. They talked for a while, then he left her to her own devices to deal with the pranks of children for a while. Tru rapidly got bored, and wandered back to Cupid's side, waiting 'til he noticed her. When he turned her way, she asked, "Can I get in touch with Hera?"

He looked at her blankly, as though she were speaking in tongues. "Excuse much, I thought you just asked if you could get in touch with Hera." he scoffed.

"I did. And how do I change those chips into money I can actually spend? " she indicated the substantial pile of poker chips in the middle of the floor.

"Oh. Oh, my." he was dazed a moment, then snapped to, and tipped his head back. "Hera!" he bellowed once, making Tru jump.

"Isn't that kinda rude?" she asked, as a shimmer of blues and greens turned into the Queen of the Gods, who gazed around curiously. She was dressed head to toe in a confusing and not entirely flattering black gown adorned with peacock feathers, her dark mahogany hair in a severe upsweep.

"It is, rather." Hera agreed, wondering what the mortal wanted with her. She had been about to refuse, but boredom and curiosity had prompted her to answer.

"I, uh, last night at the game, you looked pretty bored. When I get bored, like now, I wanna go shopping. I was thinking you might be up for it." Tru said somewhat shakily. Cupid sat staring at her in horror. He fully expected Hera to explode in wrathful vengeance at Tru for even suggesting that the Queen of the Gods go slumming in the mortal world, let alone with a human pet of Mischief's.

Hera looked at her mildly, studying her. A slight smile crossed her face, reaching those remote, wintery eyes. " Perhaps I should. If nothing else, to set everyone's jaws wagging in confusion. Yes. I believe I shall."

Cupid just sat there in numb silence, his eyes wide with apprehension. Tru remembered something Ares had said the previous night, and sidled closer to Hera, whispering in her ear. A wide, almost Cheshire Cat smile appeared on the Goddess' face, and they both disappeared in a rush of color and the sound of screaming peacocks. Tru's pile of winnings went with them.

Much as he tried, Cupid couldn't concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing. He yelled for Strife, who popped in, looking around wildly for the cause of the panic he felt in the summons.

"What is it ?" he grabbed Cupid's wings to halt his frantic pacing. Cupid shook himself loose and grabbed Strife by the upper arms.

"She's shopping!" he cried, his fingers digging in to Strife's flesh painfully.

"Yeah, and? She was bored, you sent her shopping, so?" He pulled away before Cupid could begin shaking him hard enough to make his teeth rattle.

"You don't understand. She took her prize money and went shopping with Hera! I can't find them! I can't scry them!" Cupid was pacing again. "They've been gone for hours," he moaned.

"Hera? Your Grandmother? Hera?!" Strife couldn't seem to process it. He sat down hard on the floor with a thud. Before he could do more than think of how to search, a blast of power and light flung him ass over teakettle, and there they were, both giggling like schoolgirls, bags surrounding them. Hera no longer wore her familiar gown, but an Armani woman's power suit, her hair in an elegant twist, a trio of peacock feathers instead of a scarf in the breast pocket. She took in the faces of Cupid and Strife, and smirked.

"We'll do this again sometime, child." she said to Tru before abruptly departing with most of the bags.

"Don't tell me I just saw that." Strife righted himself and stalked to Tru. She grinned and nodded, lunging for a bag, which she thrust into his hands. He glanced at her quizzically, and looked into it.

She  carried another bag to Cupid, who was still frozen in place. Strife pulled a pair of black Levi's and a surfer style long-sleeved black t-shirt from his bag and admired the legend on the shirt. It was a huge anarchy 'A' in red drippy letters. He grinned at her, then waited expectantly for Cupid to come to his senses and open his. With a shake of his head, he did.

It contained an insanely big solid chocolate heart, and a small box. Cupid opened the box warily, and smiled when he saw the arrowhead shaped locket in silver on a black leather cord. When he opened it in turn, he was surprised to see a likeness of Strife. He turned luminous eyes to Tru, who blushed and stammered, " Hera helped me with the picture."

She was swept up in a fierce hug by Cupid, then gathered up into Strife's arms as soon as Cupid released her. Embarrassed, Tru pulled back, covering her suddenly exposed mushy side by insisting, " You see what happens when a woman goes shopping with money? Chaos."

Strife cleared his throat, and somehow kept a straight face. " I guess we just need to keep you busy, " he leered, and she looked around her pointedly.

"As great as all this luxury is, it only works for so long. I need something to keep me occupied while you guys are actually doing whatever it is you Gods do." she said carefully. Cupid got a speculative expression on his face, staring at the monolithic rack of scrolls.

"How are you at filing?" he asked innocently.

End note : That's it. Stick a fork in me, I'm done. If anyone reads this and actually likes it, please, feel free to tell me. Hey, feel free to tell me if you didn't like it. And most especially, if anyone feels the need to take it and run with it, continue the chaos, as it were, hey, go for it, just send it to me so I can read it too, or tell me where it's posted. Please?