"The gall of that woman," she snarled to Morrigan.

"Calm down."

"She has so much gall she oughta be divided into three parts." Her hand twitched on the hilt of her sai.

"That'd be one f'r each o' them, then."

"Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"I am not taking sides." Morrigan held her hands up, palms out, appeasingly. "I am on no one's side. I am going to put Brigid to bed and then I am going to bed myself, but if you want my advice you will go an' fetch studmuffin before she divides him into threes."

"It's not like that," Gabrielle said once again, so loudly that Timarchus blinked and looked back at her. "It is so not like that, what it is-- "

Morrigan shoved her gently in the direction of the table where Queen Nebula was now holding court. "Go on, lass. I'll be down in a minute an' give you some moral support."

The common-room was deserted, even the bar staff having apparently long since given up for the night and gone to bed. "Would you like a drink, Your Highness?" asked Menander and before there was an answer he was on his feet and heading for the bar. "I'll get it for you."

Joxer, to his credit, was trying to put at least a few inches between himself and Nebula. There wasn't enough room for Gabrielle to fit in between them, so she settled for throwing herself down next to him on the other side. "So, Nebula. About this donkey..."

Brigid came back into the room. "I want a drink of water," she said. Morrigan came trotting up behind her, took her arm, said, "Sorry," and led her away again.

"Forget the donkey, blondie. You can't handle the donkey."

"I don't know about that. I've spent all night handling you."

Nebula glared at Gabrielle, Gabrielle glared at Nebula, and Joxer tried his best to become invisible. Brigid came back into the room. "I want a story. Can someone tell me a story?"

Nebula looked at Gabrielle and smiled. "Aunt Gabrielle can tell you a story."

Gabrielle looked at Nebula and smiled. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't know any stories."

Nebula grinned the wolf grin. "Oh, that's not true. Aunt Gabrielle knows lots of stories. Think of all the ones she made up about Uncle Iolaus."

Gabrielle stopped smiling and Joxer struggled with her for a moment to keep her in her chair and away from Nebula; then she smiled again, more tightly, and said, "Come on, Brigid, I'll tell you a story." She got down off the barstool and took the child's hand and led her out of the room, saying, "Okay. Once upon a time there was this evil nasty pirate queen who got a well-deserved comeuppance at the hands of..."

Menander, who had been rummaging behind the bar, finally came out with a single tankard. He presented it to Nebula with a flourish. Timarchus got up silently and left the room. Joxer leaned on the bar and waited for something interesting to happen.

Nebula looked at the drink, sniffed it suspiciously, shrugged, and took a pull. "That's the trouble with this town," she said. "Except for Marcus, they all serve wussy drinks," and she collapsed forward onto the bar and started snoring.

Timarchus came back into the room, a silken cord looped loosely around one hand. He walked up behind Joxer and looked at Nebula. "One too many, I guess," Joxer said, taking advantage of the opportunity to escape. As soon as his back was turned, Timarchus struck him across a fatal pressure point at the base of the skull. Joxer dropped like a stone and did not get up.

Timarchus looked at him, shrugged, and turned away. "I've taken care of most of the staff," he said. "There's still a chambermaid sleeping upstairs, but I'll take care of her later. Might be seen now. She out?"

Menander lifted Nebula's head and dropped it experimentally. It fell back against her folded arms, and she continued to snore. "Oh, yes," he said.

"We'd better take her down to the harbor first. We don't want to be carrying a dead body all the way down there, but an unconscious one we can explain away." Timarchus thrust the cord into a hidden pocket and moved to the bar. "Why the hell they couldn't have held still long enough for us to grab her down there in the first place..." He was interrupted by a godsawful clattering racket, as if a tinker's cart had been upended, and turned around just in time to duck under the chair Joxer was swinging at him. The chair knocked Menander aside, and Joxer stumbled, off-balance. Before he could recover Timarchus hit him with a good, solid punch and he went over.

He scrambled quickly to his feet again, graceless but determined, and lunged for Timarchus. "My brother used to try to kill me like that," he gasped, "for practice. All the time." Somebody's foot caught in something and the two of them more or less fell over together, and now Joxer had the advantage. He was used to falling. He got to his feet first, grabbed Timarchus by the collar of his shirt, and slammed him up against the wall. "You can't fool me. You're assassins. You're after Nebula." He slammed him again. It was supposed to knock Timarchus senseless, but didn't. It would have worked for Xena. He tried again. It would have worked for Gabby, or for Amarice, or for practically anyone, but it wasn't working for him. He tried it again, rather desperately.

"Finally figured it out, did you?" Timarchus shifted his weight slightly, then struck hard, sharp, and too fast to see at another fatal pressure point along Joxer's spine. Except the pressure point wasn't there when the strike landed, because Joxer had squirmed aside desperately and taken nothing more than a painful thump in the ribs instead. He wheezed but held his grip.

Annoyed, Timarchus pushed off from the wall and drove forward like a bull, smashing Joxer into a table and allowing the momentum to flip them back and over to the ground. "Menander!" he yelled. "Get her the hell out of here and finish the job!"

Menander obediently slung Nebula's inert form over his shoulder, ignoring the two men grappling with each other almost under his feet. He turned for the door and found Brigid in his way.

"You leave Aunt Nebula alone," she said. "I'm telling."

Menander advanced menacingly. "You're not telling anybody."

"You're not the boss of me. I'm gonna make you go BOOM."

"C'mere, kid," Menander snarled. He made a grab for Brigid, who danced out of range, pointing her finger. "Boom. Boom. Boom."

Cursing, Menander put Nebula down on the bar, where she flopped onto her side and snored happily. Brigid, seeing he was now freed of his burden and able to move much faster, changed tactics. "I'm TELLING," she shrieked and ran out the door, Menander following close on her heels. Joxer squawked in protest at this and started to go after Menander, forgetting he was still involved in the fight with Timarchus. Timarchus grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him up against the wall.

As the haze cleared Joxer thought dully Oh, so that's how you do it, and then he was on the floor and Timarchus was looping the garrote around his neck. "Son of a bacchae," Timarchus snarled, pulling the cord tight slowly and firmly, "you and those screeching harpies wasting my time all night, leading me all over town, I'm going to kill the lot of you for free and then I'm going to take you to the donkey and-- " The rest of the sentence was cut short by a thunk like the sound of the hilt end of a sai meeting firmly with someone's temple, and Timarchus collapsed on top of him.

Gabrielle fell to her knees beside them, shoving Timarchus away. "Bad guy," Joxer gasped as she frantically pulled the cord loose from around his neck. "'Sassins..." He slumped against her, so agitated he forgot to take advantage of the situation. "Brigid-- "

"Mama got the nasty man," Brigid said, running into the room ahead of Morrigan. "Mama got him. She's half-a-goddess and she can do stuff like that. It was cool. Not as cool as if he went BOOM, but pretty cool anyways. What's wrong with Auntie Nebula?" She swarmed up a barstool and leaned close to Nebula's face, took a sniff, and backed off rather quickly.

"Auntie Nebula is... sick, dear." Morrigan plucked Brigid off the bar stool and put her on the floor.

"And she has to sleep," Gabrielle added.

"Oh. I thought she was just drunk." Brigid looked around the room for more entertainment and found none. "I wanna go to bed now," she said.

"Go on with you, then." Morrigan gave her a pat. "I'll be up t'tuck you in shortly. I've got t'clean up down here."

"That's good, cause it's a mess." Brigid yawned and left.

Morrigan made her way across the wreckage and picked up Timarchus by the scruff of his neck. "Did y'kill him?"

"Not yet," Gabrielle said grimly.

"Good. I sent the chambermaid t'fetch the guard, but first Nebula will want t'know who hired him." She flopped the assassin over onto his back, and he groaned. "Talk, love," Morrigan said, placing a foot directly under his breastbone and bearing her weight down on it just a tad. "Then y'can go stay in the nice jail until Nebula decides what she wants t'do with you."

Timarchus looked up at her and spat.

"He... won't talk." Joxer sprawled across Gabrielle's lap, slowly catching his breath. "Assassin thing... bad for business."

"Do your worst, bitch," Timarchus said.

Morrigan didn't bat an eyelid. "I shall indeed." She unfastened the wineskin from her hip and hefted it consideringly, listening to it slosh. She held it still, and it continued sloshing. "D'you know what's in here? This is the rest o' the Egyptian Slings we didn't get t'finish back at Marcus'."

Timarchus blanched, but said nothing.

Morrigan shrugged. "Y'can talk or y'can drink, it's all the same to me." She tilted the wineskin threateningly, and Timarchus suddenly twitched and turned his head aside.

"No!" he said in a panic. "No, I'll talk. Just take that damn stuff away from me."

In fact, Timarchus talked so much that everyone quickly grew tired of him. Sumerian politics were very intricate and very complex and very dull. When the guard finally arrived and carted him away the room grew peaceful and still, quiet save for the steady rumble of Nebula's blissful snores.

Gabrielle sighed. She still sat with her back against the wall and Joxer still lay with his head pillowed in her lap. For some reason neither of them had bothered getting up yet. "So, now what do you want to do?"

Morrigan looked into the wineskin. "I don't know. I suppose we should start by finishing this stuff, and see what happens after that."

In the early morning the town was almost presentable. A fresh salt breeze blew in from the bay, bringing with it the tang of sea and none of the pong of harbor that would be omnipresent once the sun rose a little more and the tide went out. There was no way Xena had been going to put up with that stink with her stomach still acting up and all. It had been well worth waiting until the morning so that she could ride into town without the smell knocking her right off Argo.

She rode up to the inn and noted it was still standing. Good sign. A cherubic little girl sat in the dirt outside, carefully arranging marbles on the ground in front of her. "Hello, Brigid," Xena said.

"Hello, Xena," Brigid said politely. She looked up at the warrior and squinted. "You're going to have a baby."

"Yes, I am." Xena dismounted and tied Argo to the hitching-post.

"I like babies. I wouldn't make a baby go BOOM. I might my tutor, though." She placed one marble a finger's-width apart from the others and looked satisfied. "Mama's upstairs with the silly people."

Xena went inside and up the stairs. At the end of the hall was an open door. Morrigan lay in the doorway, holding a dagger. She appeared to be asleep, but as Xena approached she opened one green eye, and then two, and smiled. "Good morning, Xena. Nice t'see you again."

"Same here." Xena looked over her into the room with some trepidation. "Earthquake?"

"In a sense, you could say. In a sense. I've been tryin' t'keep folk out. Or them in. Not sure which." Morrigan sat up against the doorframe and allowed Xena to pass.

The Queen of Sumeria lay fully dressed in regal repose upon the bed, a peaceable smile on her royal face and a noble snore issuing from her royal throat. Around the bed chaos reigned. A table lay on its side with the remains of an ewer scattered about it. A chest had been upended and its contents strewn across the floor in place of the rugs, one of which was draped halfway out the window and had what looked like donkey tracks on it. A huge shapeless heap of blankets lay on the floor at the foot of the bed. Joxer lay asleep on the floor next to it, his head pillowed on one of the pieces of that thing he usually insisted on wearing, although he was not wearing it -- or, truth be told, much of anything -- at this point.

"Have you sent for someone to take the bodies away yet?" Xena asked dryly.

"I was waiting for you. I think some of them are yours, if I am not mistaken."

Xena nudged Joxer with her foot. "This one's mine. I think. I had two."

"Over there." Morrigan gestured to the lump of bedding. "Go through it an' keep what you want. I'm going to fetch Brigid before she starts trying t'blow up y'r horse."

"Thanks." Xena pulled the blankets away and glared at what lay underneath them. "Gabrielle," she said, not softly.

"Mnh rpm."

"Gabrielle, wake up."

Joxer yawned and pushed himself up on his elbows, shaking his head. "Xena."

"Is your name Gabrielle? Be quiet."

Gabrielle opened one eye, saw Xena watching her, and too late shut it again and feigned sleep.

"Gabrielle, answers."

She now pretended to wake, stretching with an exaggerated yawn. "Oh... Xena. We were waiting for you."

"Did I say not to get into trouble?"

"We didn't."

"Then why are you still asleep, what happened to this room, and whose underwear is that on your head?"

Miraculously suddenly wide awake, Gabrielle snatched the offending garment away and shoved it under the blanket in a single quick motion. "Honestly, Xena, nothing is going on. We just overslept, that's all."

"Yeah," Joxer said helpfully, "'cause we were too tired to get up after-- "

"Joxer, why didn't you keep her out of trouble like I asked you?"

Gabrielle sat up straight. "Excuse me? Keep me out of trouble?"

"We didn't get into trouble," Joxer said. "We had a nice time. Morrigan's daughter taught us the twelve-times tables, and we took kind of a tour of the waterfront, and went to this one place that had really awful drinks that moved."

"What, Egyptian Slings? Gods above, no wonder Nebula's still sleeping. Some people never learn."

"Except that we never did get to see the donkey. Oh, and these assassins tried to kill Nebula after we got her out of jail," Joxer added while Gabrielle gesticulated wildly for silence, "but we stopped them."

Xena stared at Gabrielle. Gabrielle pointed at Joxer. "His fault." This usually worked.

Not this time. Xena continued to stare. Gabrielle stumbled to her feet, wrapping a blanket and what was left of her dignity about herself. "Everything was under control," she said, "everything was perfectly fine and all we did was wait for you like you asked, and nothing, absolutely nothing hap-- " She looked down under the blanket and screamed.

Joxer scrambled to his feet. Nebula awoke and sat up. Gabrielle continued to stare down under the blanket in horrified fascination. Xena moved forward and cautiously pulled it aside just enough so they could all see what had startled her. There was silence for a few moments.

Finally Nebula spoke. "Well, that's life," she said. "You're cruising along, everything is fine, and then one day you wake up with another goddamn tattoo." The Queen of Sumeria shrugged philosophically, flopped over on her side, and went back to sleep.

11/99