Title: Tear in Time
Author: Jinni ( druscilla@cox.net <mailto:druscilla@cox.net> or
jinni@moonlitpaths.com)
Rated: PG13
Pairing: W/Ares
Genre: BtVS/Hercules-Xena Crossover
Disclaimer: All copyrights remain firmly in the grubby little paws of their
copyright holders. I own nothing except, perhaps, this plot; and I make no
money from writing fanfic – as enjoyable as that idea may be.
Distribution: WLF, WLS, NHA, BMP, Aislin.
Author’s Note: Pairing #57 at The Quickie Challenge:
http://quickie.moonlitpaths.com <http://quickie.moonlitpaths.com/>
~*~
She had done it again.
Lost control.
She felt her black magic dye job start at the roots of her red hair and
bleed it slowly to black. Her eyes were cold and dark now, twin pools of
ebony darkness.
And it felt good, that loss of control, that absolute power.
Willow smiled, the darkness that had filled her soul for so long coming once
again out to play.
She raised her hands, calling on the forces that now resided within her.
This time the entire earth would feel her pain, her wrath.
But the unexpected happened. Those powers that were so enormously thick with
energy tore through the very fabric of time and space, ripping a whirling
hole in the makeup of the universe.
And it wanted blood.
Her blood.
She screamed, digging her heels into the ground, looking around for
something to hold onto.
It was not to be stopped, however; and the churning inky blackness reached
out hand-like tendrils, grasping at her waist, her ankles. They pulled her
feet right out from beneath her, yanking her towards the tear with a
violence that made her body ache.
Her screams were cut off in the blinding nothingness of the tear.
And then she wasn’t even thinking, consciousness gone the way of the light.
~*~
Ares was having a bad day.
Actually, all days were bad days with his little brother out roaming the
face of Zeus’s green earth.
Today just happened to be one of the more horrible days he had faced in
recent times.
So, okay, the idea to incite a little civil unrest between Sparta and Thebes
was not the brightest idea he had come up with recently. He owed the idea,
in reality, to Strife, who had mentioned it on a whim, saying it sounded
like ‘fun’.
And it would have been. . . save for the fact that his dear, dear little
brother interfered.
As usual.
He growled, throwing a goblet across his empty throne room. What good was it
to be the God of War if there was a troublesome little would-be god running
around fixing all the chaos he caused? It just wasn’t right. There had been
times when he had been able to start wars, bring pain and suffering, and
just cause overall trouble without having to worry about Hercules ruining
it.
No longer.
He didn’t even have a good handmaiden of War now that Xena was off playing
the part of do-gooder. He frowned. Maybe that’s what he needed. Another
pretty young thing to run around causing havoc *for* him. Someone that was
not only cute, but vicious as well.
Something like –
A crackle of power ripped through his chambers and he looked up just in time
to see a portal open, spit out a woman, and then close again. She landed
heavily at his feet, black hair streaming around her head in a fan of
darkness.
And what power she had rolling off of her, like a perfume of the
supernatural. He smirked and knelt beside her, running a finger over the
veiny skin of her face, smoothing out the discoloration until all he could
see was smooth white perfection, framed by a halo of darkness.
She was lovely.
And powerful.
He grinned.
Today was looking up, it seemed.
~*~
Willow woke slowly, the dreadful part of it being that she knew she was
waking slowly. She could feel her fingers and toes begin to wriggle and took
a deep lungful of air. Her brain was content with just this for that moment,
and she allowed herself to continue with the languid pace of waking, feeling
neither the desire nor the compulsion to hurry things along.
Until she remembered the tear she had made in reality.
Her eyes snapped open quite suddenly then, taking in the black stonework of
the ceiling overhead. There was a pillow behind her head, and her hand was
resting on something soft, very sensuous. Silk, she decided, without even
looking down to confirm her guess.
But where was she?
"So sleeping beauty has decided to wake up."
The ebony haired witch frowned, sitting up slowly to look at the man that
was lounging, as though he had not a single care in the world, only a few
feet from the bed. He had a half-eaten apple in one hand and a smirk on his
lips.
She narrowed her eyes at this man; a stunning specimen of rugged looks in
the shade of evil. The shirt he was wearing was black leather, with little
silver studs on it. Very manly, she decided.
"Who are you and where am I?"
He raised an eyebrow at her, dropping the apple. It disappeared inches from
the ground, fading into nothingness. She watched with eyes that widened only
slightly.
"The name’s Ares. I’m sure you’ve heard of me."
"Ares?" She sputtered, her mouth twitching up into a smile. Before he could
utter another word she was laughing outright, her breathing soon labored
with the effort of such extreme amusement. "Dear Goddess…. You think you’re
the God of War."
She laughed.
And laughed.
Her hair bleached itself back to red, the anger that had caused her downfall
being replaced by so much good humor.
And when she quit laughing she found that he was just staring at her.
"You think this is ‘funny’?"
She smirked, nodding.
"I’m in a room with a guy that thinks he’s the God of War. Of course I think
it’s funny. You would too if you were me."
"Let me tell you something," he growled, standing in one smooth motion and
then moving to within only a few inches of the bed. "I don’t ‘think’ that I’
m the God of War. I –am- the God of War."
Willow snorted.
"Yeah, sure."
He frowned.
Willow, for her part, just looked confusedly behind him, at the other man
that was standing there. Or, well, not really a man. More like a creepy
looking high schooler. He couldn’t possibly be a man because he didn’t look
very manly. The thing that bothered her the most, outside of the leather,
was the fact that he had appeared out of nowhere. She could do that trick,
true; but it took a helluva lot of power – and the last thing she wanted to
believe was that either of these guys had a lot of power.
Because that could possibly not bode well for her at all.
"And who is he? One of your loyal minions?"
The man, Ares, turned to glance over his shoulder, a sneer passing across
his handsome face.
"Strife, did you need something? I thought I asked not to be disturbed."
"I can see why."
The freaky little man gave a high-pitched laugh that sent unpleasant shivers
up Willow’s spine. She grimaced, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by her
captor, or host, whichever the case was to be.
He gave her a sympathetic smirk and turned to face Strife.
"So why are you disturbing me, then?"
"I thought you’d like to know that Hercules is about to help the rebels in
that little village near the Athenian border."
"The one we’ve been grooming for combat for the past month?"
Willow felt her mouth drop open as the two continued to converse, the
ruggedly handsome man she had laughed at so readily minutes before becoming
more and more incensed. She believed him. Though it was hard as hell to
believe and meant that she must have gotten thrown back in time, if not into
another plane of reality entirely, she believed him.
He really was the God of War.
Ares.
She felt a wicked grin steal across her face and leaned back, watching the
two through hooded eyes. He was handsome. A God. Powerful. Dark. He looked
like he was perfect in just about all ways. She observed them quietly, their
mannerisms and conversation alone bolstering her belief that he was who he
said. Why else would they carry on such an intricate diatribe? Not for her
benefit, she was sure.
He turned back to her, dismissing the other man with a wave of his hand.
"So. . . problems?" She raised an eyebrow, intoxicated by the angry power
she felt rolling off of him, like waves of warm pleasure.
"Nothing I can’t handle." He growled. But the growl was replaced by a smile
almost immediately, all charm. "I have to go. Stay put."
"Wouldn’t dream of moving for the world," Willow purred with a wink. She
tried not to let her mouth drop open when he disappeared right before her
eyes, just as Strife had only moments before. She closed her eyes,
stretching languidly on the bed and recalling the feel of his darkness near
her. She wanted another taste, preferably coupled with a taste of his mouth.
No – she wouldn’t be moving a muscle.
Not until he got back anyway.
~*~The End~*~