Subtext Warning: This story implies a loving relationship between two consenting adult women. If you are under 18, this type of thing is illegal in the state/country in which you live, or you are offended by it, read no further.
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Mole
By
Archaeobard
Xena shifted again in her saddle atop Argo. She grimaced slightly and
straightened her position. The young bard, walking along side, squinted up
at the warrior and shielded her eyes against the glaring sun.
"Are you alright?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.
"Fine," was all the warrior grunted.
Gabrielle shrugged and twirled her staff in her hands as she walked. They
continued this way for about a candle mark, with Xena shifting periodically
and Gabrielle glancing covertly at the warrior.
Finally, the bard could take it no more, and reached up a hand to grab
Argo’s reins, stopping the horse dead in her tracks. Argo whickered slightly
and tried to throw her head at the annoying gesture.
Xena glared daggers down at the smaller woman.
"You’d better have a very good explanation for why you just did that
Gabrielle," the voice was hollow.
"Uh-huh, I do, it’s called worry. What is wrong with you? You’ve been
shifting about up there like you’ve got a hydra’s head stuck somewhere it
shouldn’t be," the bard burbled out.
Xena sniffed and looked away from the bard.
"I have a mole," she said coldly.
"So? So do I, what’s the big deal about that?" the bard asked.
"It’s…it’s on my…butt," came the stuttering comment.
Gabrielle’s face lost all expression and she fought valiantly to stop the
laughter that threatened to overcome her.
"You have a mole…on your butt?" she asked blankly, he gaze shifting to the
warrior’s posterior as if she could spy the growth.
"Yes I do," Xena said a little defensively, "Blacker than Ares’ leathers and
hairier than a centaur in winter," Xena glanced down.
The bard paled slightly at the description, "Nice,"
she blanched.
"Well, that’s what it’s like."
"Why haven’t I seen it?" the bard could not help but ask.
The warrior rolled her eyes, "Gabrielle, it’s not exactly something I choose
to advertise."
"But bathing and swimming and well…" she trailed off.
Xena cleared her throat, "I keep it covered with my hand."
"Oh," The bard said, her brow wrinkling in thought as she tried to remember,
"I just thought you liked to feel your ass."
"Gabrielle!"
The bard smirked, "So you have a mole on your backside, I wouldn’t worry too
much about it," she tried to sound soothing.
Xena let out a breath, "It’s not the fact that I have a mole Gabrielle…"
"What is it then?" the bard cut in.
"It’s these Tartarus be damned new breeches I bought in Sparta, they’re
cutting right into it," she said with a frown.
A small giggle escaped from Gabrielle’s lips, but was quickly silenced by a
look from the warrior, "Sorry," she muttered.
"I’m sure it must be bleeding," The warrior’s tone changed slightly.
"Well, you know what they say about the Spartans…" the bard left it hanging.
"No."
"Never mind," Gabrielle dismissed the comment. She took a deep breath and
steeled her voice, "You want me to take a look?"
The stare from the warrior almost floored her.
"To see that it’s not bleeding," she added quickly, "I mean, you wouldn’t
want it to…fester…or anything." The threatening smirk would not be stilled.
"It’ll be fine."
"Oh no. No, no, no, no, you get off that horse right now," the bard ordered,
stabbing her staff into the ground with authority.
Xena rolled her eyes but complied after a moment.
"Satisfied?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"Not yet," the bard got a wicked glint in her eye, "Drop ‘em and bend over
Warrior Princess!" she said with a grin.
"I will most certainly not!" the warrior roared, clenching her jaw.
"Oh really?" the bard asked, sidling up to the taller woman and poking her
in the chest.
"I am not going to drop my breeches in the middle of the road to Athens."
The warrior did not move a muscle.
"Xena, it’s not like there is anyone here but me," she raised an eyebrow,
"and it’s not like I haven’t seen it all before, except the mole that is."
"Gabrielle," the voice was low and menacing, the
don’t-you-even-think-about-saying-one-more-word voice.
"I never took you to be overly…modest, Xena."
The warrior said nothing.
"C’mon Xena," Gabrielle pleaded, "you can hide behind Argo," the bard tried,
resulting in a snort from the horse. "No offense girl," Gabrielle added,
patting the horse on the rump and staring at the warrior.
"I’m not going to get out of this, am I?" the warrior asked after a moment.
"Nope."
Sighing mightily, Xena walked to the other side of Argo, apologising with a
"Sorry girl" as she glared over the saddle at the bard.
"Do it!" Gabrielle mouthed as she walked around the horse.
Easing her hands up under her leathers, the warrior hooked her thumbs over
the top of her breeches and inched them downwards, wincing slightly as a
tight seam peeled away from her mole. She managed to drop them to her knees
before she felt a firm hand between her shoulder blades pushing her forward.
"If anyone sees this, they’re dead," the warrior grumbled.
"Relax would you?" Gabrielle said as Xena bent over. The bard pushed aside
the warrior’s leathers and gasped, a hand moving involuntarily to her mouth.
"What?" Xena roared, trying to straighten up, but the bard pushed her back
down and leaned closer for a better look.
"Zeus, Athena and Ares," the bard mumbled, eyeing the extraordinary growth
protruding from Xena’s right butt cheek.
"What?!" The warrior almost screamed this time, twisting her head around,
trying to see the bard.
"Oh Xena…that's a bad one," she said. If the
warrior could have seen the look of horror on the bard’s face, the smaller
woman would not have been able to sit for a week.
"Told you it wasn’t pretty."
"That’s not exactly the word I would have used. Couldn’t you…pluck…or
something?" she tried.
"Have you ever tried to rip hairs out of a mole on your ass?" the warrior
fumed.
"Well…no, but Xena…it’s…foul," the bard couldn’t hide the disgust in her
voice.
"Thank you Gabrielle, that makes me feel a Hades of a lot better about
myself."
The bard grinned, "It’s not exactly your…best feature," she paused a moment,
"Does Hercules know?"
"No he does not know, and if you tell him, you are a dead bard."
Gabrielle held her hands up defensively, "He won’t hear it from me."
"So," the warrior said, a little calmer now that her secret was vaguely
safe, "is it bleeding?"
"Since when have you been bothered about a little blood?"
"Since now! Tell me Gabrielle…please?"
The bard gaped at the warrior’s tone and cleared her throat, "Not much," she
said finally.
"So it is?"
"Well…yeah, just a little, not like buckets or anything."
"Hades balls Gabrielle, my ass is bleeding?" the warrior shrieked.
"Like I said, just a little, but I think the ah…hairs…are stopping it."
"That’s comforting," the warrior sighed before continuing, "Can you clean it
up?"
"Now you want me to wipe your backside for you?" the bard asked.
A nod.
"Okay," the bard looked about and wiped a hand over her mouth, "I can do
that, sure."
"I think there’s a cloth in my saddle bag," the warrior said.
"Uh-huh," the bard muttered, moving over to the warrior’s saddle bag and
rummaging around, "Found it!" she said triumphantly.
"Well wet it Gabrielle," the warrior ordered.
"Stop yelling at me, I’m trying to help here."
"Sorry," the warrior said, actually meaning it, "I’m just not used to…this."
She could think of no better explanation for the outburst.
"There’s only port," Gabrielle said after a moment of checking their skins.
"Alcohol."
"Yeah."
Xena drew in a breath, "Well, that’s probably a good thing."
"You think? It’ll sting," Gabrielle warned.
"I know that Gabrielle, just…get rid of the blood."
"Sure," the bard said, up ending the skin on the cloth and soaking a corner.
"Here we go." She muttered, reaching towards the warrior’s mole.
"Argh! Gaia! Tartarus that hurts," the warrior blurted, not at all her stony
self.
"Well you wanted me to do it."
Xena sucked in a hiss of a breath through her teeth.
"Is it done?" she asked meekly.
"Uh-huh."
"Can I pull up my breeches now?" she asked.
"Uh…Xena?"
"What?"
"It might be best if you go breecherless," the bard said.
At that, the warrior straightened and turned on the bard, who was grinning
idiotically, port and blood stained cloth hanging from her fingers.
"You have got to be kidding," Xena sneered.
"Nuh-uh, I’m not."
"What if there are bandits?"
"Tough."
"What if Ares decides to pay us a visit?"
"I’m sure he’ll get an eyeful, but when he gets a load of that mole, I
wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t want you for his chosen any more," the
bard broadened her grin.
"Gabrielle…"
"Just stating facts Xena."
"I am going to pull my breeches back up!" the warrior stated derisively.
"No you are not. Your mole needs to heal, and that’s not going to happen
with your breeches chafing at it," the bard was now possessed by Asclepius,
obviously.
"C’mon Gabrielle, I just want a bit of privacy. I don’t want my ass blowing
in the breeze," she paused a moment, "Look at these leathers, what are they
going to cover?"
"I’m only thinking of your butt Xena."
"I’m sure you are…but Gabrielle –" the warrior pleaded.
"Absolutely not."
The warrior gritted her teeth and gave her best glare, but the bard did not
even flinch an eye muscle.
"Why do I do these things?" she asked, pulling her breeches off the rest of
the way and holding them out on a finger to the bard.
The End.