There were many roads. . paths? . trails?. . ways? Actually, they just seemed to be just designations, somehow marked with an ambient light that seemed to emanate from the margin of the soil and the grass, where you could walk without fear of a misstep or the necessity of conversation. Ares wasn't sure where any of them would lead.

Glancing at the night sky he remembered the constellations of the Earth's sky; perceived grouping of the stars that bore names from the Greek mythology from his youth. It hadn't taken the humans long to decide that the myths weren't real and the stars not really associated into patterns, so it wasn't a surprise that no one had bothered to name the star groupings visible in the sky on Halcyon Drift. Yet, because he felt more comfortable looking up than down, he sought comfort and guidance from the stars that lit the sky to guide him in the same way the mysteriously lit the paths guided those who walked the ground of the Wayest retreat.

He remembered the first night he had met Tyr. He had been impressed by his intense physical presence and intrigued by his silence. Tonight as they walked together he wished there were words, which there had to be even if they were in some language that neither of them understood, that could convey the emotions he now felt. He felt as disjointed as the unnamed Halcyon constellations and as inadequate as an un-worshiped god.

"I cannot help but feel that I have wished my own child to die." Tyr refused to look at him as he spoke.

"Wishes don't work that way, Tyr. Even gods cannot just wish something away. Action is necessary."

"But, I abandoned her. I told her to go away. Stay away. I didn't want her in my life."

Ares had never been good at comfort. He remembered the times when he had wanted to reach out to Xena, and never could. How he would flash away and cry on his own, when he knew he should be touching her hand, holding her close, or maybe wiping her tears. He was not going leave Tyr, although such acts of comfort seemed strangely out of place; but he was not going to hide from his grief. Tyr was so strong, so masculine, so Nietzschean, that Ares was afraid that any attempt to comfort him would be quickly and physically rejected, so he kept his distance and simply walked by his side.

"If there is anything I can do?" It was a feeble attempt at breaking the silence, without backup in either action or words.

"You are the one that purports to be a god, tell me what you can do. I will then think about it and tell you if that is something I desire for you to do. I am not one for random solicitations for comfort."
 

"All I can do is the same thing you are doing, Tyr. I can put my faith in Trance's medical skills and in the prayers of Rev Bem. I can be with you. I don't know what I can do more than that."

The silence loomed again. Ares waited, wondering if he should just make something up that possibly might comfort Tyr, or whether he should just try something physical, and possible get decked or slashed with a bone spur. Tyr stopped, turned, and looked at him with supplication.

"Perhaps you you can. . .

"Can, what, I probably can. I am a god."

"Perhaps, you can . . . could . . .can hold me."

Ares wrapped his arms around the Nietzschean, realize that he might be one of the few men in the entire universe who could use his physical size to bring comfort to Tyr Anasazi.

"You're shivering, let's go back to the fire."

"I was afraid."

"I know you are afraid."

"No you don't understand. I was afraid, if I went back, I might be forced to fight Evan for the tablecloth to wrap around me. I'm so very cold."

"Why didn't you tell me?" A leather jacket appeared in Ares's hands. "I told you this is what I do, do you ever listen. Just don't cry on it, OK? It's old, and tears will rot the leather." Ares smiled as he carefully wiped away the tear that was streaming down the Nietzschean's cheek with his thumb. Nothing, absolutely nothing in his life and prepared him for this night. It was all new and all improvised.

* * * * *

"So what do you know about this? Are you going to tell me now, or are you going to make me find out with everybody else?" Dylan had tried to several times to get Evan to talk to him, but his usually talkative friend seemed strangely unwilling or unable to share. "You don't keep secrets from me, Iolaus."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Start with Zeus." Dylan used an "I am the captain" tone with Evan, something he did not usually do.

"I didn't know he was Zeus. Honestly Herc it never even dawned on me. He's been around Libra X for a long time, I noticed that. But I've always tried to keep a low profile, wondered if he had noticed the same thing about me. It's like running into someone at a gay bar. I didn't bother him; he didn't bother me. "

"And. . ."

"Just recently he came to me with this Nietzschean project. Insisted that I do it despite all my protests, and I sure complained a lot, Herc. But I complained to him as Malcolm the librarian, not as Zeus. I'm not used to electronic media, I don't know the languages, I don't know a lot of the philosophy and literature behind it, and I certainly don't know the genetics and the biochemistry involved there. Strangely enough Harry helped me a lot."

"My brother helped you? With what?"

"There were parts written in ancient scripts that I didn't know. He did. I was surprised that he could decipher them a lot better than I was able to do. We've actually become friends. As good a friend as anyone can be with Ares. "

"I never would have gathered that from the way you were carrying on earlier."

"Nah, that was just the wine and the emotion. I was nervous and drunk. You know how I get, Herc."

"Yes, I know all too well. You've puked the rabbit all over the rocks on the river's edge, will you ever learn?"

"If I haven't now, I guess it is a little late to worry about it."

"You're lucky it hasn't killed you."

"I know, but fortunately I'm immortal." He grinned.

"Now tell me what you learned, or I'll have to . . . "

"I'm not ready. I need to know how much I HAVE to tell you. I'll know that soon enough."

"I deserve to know. I have a right to know."

"No, you're wrong, Herc. This whole thing really isn't about you and Zeus. You're just a tangential part of it, most of it involved Tyr . . " he let his voice grow very low, almost inaudible "and me."

Suddenly Dylan thought he understood. If Iolaus was involved this could get very complicated and explained why his friend had drunk so much wine earlier that night. In the sober light of morning, he was willing to listen to only what his friend saw fit to reveal. He was also willing to wait.

* * * *

"I'm sorry, little one." Trance had wrapped the baby in a pillowcase she had found at the retreat house and carried him away from the room where his mother lay dead. "I thought this time it would be different. I knew it was going to be a difficult birth, that she was going to be bleeding very badly and I thought I had the power to stop it this time. I didn't. I'm sorry. But at least this time I saved you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, not now."

Beka Valentine had been sitting with Rev. Bem, listening as Trance explained about the baby and the problems with its birth. The rest of the men had remained outside assured that nothing they could do could help Joan or the baby. Rev. Bem had just wanted them a long way away.

"There was nothing I could do." Trance told them. "She was very weak. I didn't think a Nietzschean, especially a pregnant Nietzschean, would have let herself get in that condition. Had she been eating?"

"She ate a lot, I didn't think she looked too thin. She did know there was a problem with the baby though. She didn't tell me, but I knew she knew there was something wrong," the Magog said, "she was afraid that it would die."

"The baby is fine, except. . ."

"I know, Trance."

Beka was puzzled. "What about the baby?"

"Not now Beka, someone is going to have to talk to Tyr. Tell him Joan is dead, and tell him about the baby, and I am going to have to talk to Malcolm and Evan." Beka was puzzled by Rev. Bem's comment.

"Evan? Why would you have to talk to Evan? Tyr should have been here, it is his son," Beka said.

"Beka, I was trying to save his son. I didn't need a nervous father around here, or an angry Nietzschean." Trance commented.

"I am going to get Tyr. He has to know." Beka was almost to the door.

"No, Beka, wait. I really do have to talk to Malcolm and Evan first."

"I don't understand."

"Show her, Trance." Rev. Bem spoke quietly.

Trance slowly walked to her former captain. She quietly lifted the corner of the pillowcase she had tented over the baby's head. Beka walked back to the table, poured herself a drink from a bottle of brandy Dylan had left for her earlier that evening, and chugged it back. At least now she understood.

* * *

The actual communication of the night's events had taken place in a thoroughly round-about way. Rev. Bem had talked to Malcolm who had been sitting right outside the house and then the two of them had located Dylan and Evan, fortunate that they had not run into Tyr and Ares while trying to locate them. Rev. Bem had gone with Dylan assuming his role as spiritual advisor to the Captain of the Andromeda, leaving Malcolm with Evan. Both groups separated and walked some distance apart, as if what was being disclosed to the two men, and their responses, should be hidden from each other.

"It's not as bad as it could have been. Trance said that both the child and the mother should have died, she had to work fast to save the child." Malcolm said.

"Tyr wouldn't have cared if both of them died. It would have made it simpler for everyone involved. Why didn't the baby die anyway, Zeus?"

"Why didn't the baby die? You tell me?"

"I'm a librarian, not a fucking doctor? How should I know?
 

"You saw the genetic report. What do you know about Nietzschean's recessive genes."

"Certain recessive combinations are lethal. Despite the asserted preference for hybrids Paul Musevini instilled certain precautions against an all recessive Nietzschean -- you know that little square down there in the bottom right hand corner of the box. No matter how big the box is, there is always that chance, but he took care of that."

"And. . ."

"The baby dies. A baby which received from each of its parents a recessive gene for the primary Nietzschean traits is aborted naturally."

"Such as. . .?"

"Well I guess the most easily discerned would be the bone spurs. There would never be a Nietzschean child born without bone spurs. A child who was recessive for the trait of bone spurs would die before it was born." Evan watched and tried to discern the expression on the older librarian's face. "Yet, if I read you right, this child does not have bone spurs, correct? That means that we have a blond-haired, blue-eyed child born to a dark-skinned Nietzschean woman, fathered by a dark-skinned Nietzschean man. A little too recessive if you ask me."

"And your first conclusion would be."

"Truthfully, I would normally suspect, especially because I, unknown to anyone else, actually had sex with Joan D'Arc, something that I am sure as hell not proud of, that I am the father. Except I know that a "kluge" like me cannot impregnate a Nietzschean woman."

"That is certainly what you would believe from the research you have done. Has it really been a source of comfort to you or just another puzzle?"

"You know it is the second. I've tried to work out every logical scenario, except the one I don't want to admit."

"Which is?"

"I know that Drago Musevini was a clone. I am now forced to believe that I, Evan Hopewell, formerly known as Iolaus of Thebes, have more of a connection to the Nietzschean species that I even want to think about.

* * * * *

It was not clear whether it was the Wayist design of the retreat grounds or just the hand of the divine that caused the paths taken by the three groups of men to converge at the fountain. Everyone seemed surprised that the others had ended up in the now shared space.

"I think we need to pray," Rev Bem took charge and extended his hand to Tyr. Ares took the other hand and reached for that of his father. Zeus had never held the hands of both of his two sons at the same time and smiled quietly inside despite the sadness of the occasion, leaving Iolaus to span the gap between Hercules and the Magog.

The Magog spoke quietly in a language only he and his god understood, yet the feeling that radiated around the circle as the dawn broke on Halcyon Drift was shared by all. He raised his head and slowly spoke about a new life, a new hope and a new understanding. He spoke about Tyr's role as a father, not hinting that he would be a father alone, and the Nietzscheans' hope that someday the genetic reincarnation of the progenitor would be reborn. He added that this rebirth would be a product of design and not genetic accident. Strangely as he said that, he squeezed Iolaus's hand, for reasons the hunter could not understand.

Rev. Bem then broke the circle and took both of Tyr's hands. He spoke in a dialect only Evan recognized as Nietzschean and quietly told him that Joan was dead and that his son would be awaiting him for the naming ceremony and the genetic testing. Evan had reached over and reclosed the circle by taking the hand of the old enemy who was now truly his friend. He was extremely grateful that the Magog had taken the lead in this delicate area, he had certainly not wanted to be the one who told Tyr despite his new knowledge of Nietzschean genetics.

Ares sensed by the tears that something was very wrong, and left the group, walking behind Tyr and wrapping his arms around his chest, pulling him close to him.

"I've always told this man I loved him. I doubt if any of you believed me." Ares spoke with an authority even those who knew him had not heard him express in a long, long time. "Most of you I am sure probably don't even think I know the meaning of the word. I assure you, I am trying to learn. I am here for him, to do what I can. I ask you to help me, help him. You are his friends. We need to go through this together. But now, he needs to be with his son. So if you excuse me for breaking this prayer circle, I am going to take Tyr to the house now. The needs of a man are going to have to take preference over those of gods."

Everyone waited to see if Rev. Bem or maybe Malcolm would do something to stop them. No one did. It seemed only reasonable, even if slightly frightening, considering what each of the others now knew.

* * * * *

Tyr took the bundled baby from Beka's arms. Trance had been working on cleaning up the bedroom where the dead body of Joan D'Arc now lay. Tyr did not have to see that. He had seen enough blood in his life, enough of his pride members dead.

"I have long hoped to have a son that looked like me. A dark skinned Nietzschean child of the Kodiak pride who would carry my genes into the future. I am thankful that I met a woman who could help me bring this about. It is most unfortunate that she cannot be here with me and with him in the future. I have been thinking long and hard about a name for this child, and as of yet I do not have one. I just know that I am proud and that I will love my son."

He grabbed the corner of the wrapper and pulled it back, and stared silently at the blue eyed, blonde-haired baby he was holding. The baby certainly didn't look like Tyr, or Joan, or any other Kodiak. The baby looked exactly like Evan Hopewell.

Ares gasped, and was surprised when Tyr bent down and kissed the baby on the forehead and recovered his head. He never unwraped the blanket and looked at the forearms.

"Ladies, Harry, when a Nietzschean baby of the Kodiak pride is born, it is the duty of the father to perform a certain genetic test, on the off chance that the child would be the long awaited reincarnation of Drago Musevini. I will have to return to the Andromeda to make those tests, for I have the mummified body of the progenitor, and I alone can make that match.

"Earlier tonight, Malcolm gave me this dagger, which Nietzschean tradition has said is essential for extracting the blood necessary for this test. From what I have perceived about Malcolm, and his position both as a librarian and a "god", I have every reason to believe that this is the actual Sacred Dagger crafted for Paul Musevini to make the cut on his son Drago. I am supposed to cut the palm of my child, so that he will share the same scar that all Nietzschean men bear." He held out his palm and showed his friends his scar.

"I bear this scar, my son Ares has such a scar, even though the cut was made by his uncle Charlemagne, but this son will not have this scar. Today I feel close to enough gods. I am educated enough to realize that a cotton swab inside the cheek is all that is necessary to extract the necessary DNA. I will not suffer this child any more pain."

The other men had joined them in the common room, and everyone was surprised by Tyr's lack of reaction to his child's appearance and his refusal to cut the boy's hand for genetic testing.

"So if you have a swab, Trance, I will commence with the testing. I assume that Harper is waiting to send a transporter for me back to the Andromeda, and I trust that you, Captain Hunt, will now give me the necessary keys to Storage Bay 15. One more thing, would it be all right if I took Mr. Wagner with me?"

"Of course, Tyr. And good luck." Dylan replied with the pride of a High Guard Captain.

* * * *

"Andromeda, look at this. I can't freaking believe it." Tyr had asked Harper to do the actual genetic matching for his son, respecting the engineer's greater skills with scientific equipment.

The holographic presence of the ship walked over and looked into the electron microscope at the assortment of chromosomes displayed.

"I've already analyzed the computer printout. This is just visual confirmation."

Andromeda nodded her head. "I agree. "There are several genes on the fifteenth chromosome for which Tyr Anasazi is XX. Yet this child has all recessive genes."

"So you're going to be the one to tell him that this baby is not his freaking child."

"It's a little more complicated than that, Harper."

"How can it get any more complicated than that?"

"Joan D'Arc was also XX for several genes on the fifteenth chromosome."

"You mean that she's not the mother."

"She may have given birth to this child, but she's not the biological mother. She must have been artificially impregnated."

"Jesus Christ!" Harper explained.

"Close. Maybe too close."

"Have you done the match with the DNA Tyr got from his mummy?"

"It was a perfect match. This child is the genetic match of the progenitor -- the child whose birth the Nietzscheans have awaited for centuries. I don't know what has happened here, Harper, but it seems at least one of Tyr Anasazi's wishes has come true. I'm just not sure it was the wish he wanted to come true right now, and I just don't know how to break it to him."

"Perhaps we should talk to Dylan."

"I have this feeling Dylan already knows."

* * * * *

"I need to talk to you alone, right now. It's me, Andromeda, Ares, so don't let Tyr know I'm here. Get him out of here or you go someplace, so that I can talk to you, face-to-face."

"Tyr, are you sure you secured the locks on Storage Area 15. You wouldn't want Harper messing around in there while you were gone." Ares thought it sounded phony, but he didn't have time to think of anything else. The Nietzschean was most methodical, but he also knew he had been nervous, perhaps he should double check.

"I'm sure I did, but I will go check again if it makes you feel better. Then well be ready to go as soon as the report is printed out."
 

As soon as he was gone the Holographic Andromeda appeared in the room. She her eyes looked serious, even though they hit his was a flashy glint.

"I don't think I ever had a chance to really thank you for that night we had together, Ares. I will always remember that, but that's not what I need to talk to you about now. We've done the tests. As you might have suspected Tyr is not the father, but we have also found that Joan is not the mother."

"What? I thought Nietzscheans were above those stupid little quasi-religious doings. Don't tell me this is another of those twilight of the gods things."

"I know what you are talking about, I researched that, too. I am quite sure that this is not the case, for this child is the genetic clone of Drago Musevini. The child may not be the son of a member of the Kodiak Pride, but he could be its savior --if one is to believe in myth and legend."

"I have to believe in it; it's what I am!"

"So you are, my dear, so you are! You may be a myth, but you are a damn studly myth." She leaned over and kissed him on the lips, proving that a kiss was possible with Ares even in actual reality. He smiled at her and whispered a promise of another time. The hologram dissolved.

Tyr came back in the room. "It was locked, just as I thought. Can we go now?"

"Yes, but on the way back, Tyr. I want to tell you a story about a woman I once loved, and her child."

"Why?"

"Let me tell you the story and then I will tell you why?"

* * * * * *

"Why can't I go tonight?" Beka Valentine had just learned that Tyr and Ares had requested that only Dylan and Evan be included in the naming ceremony that evening. "I really don't know why I insisted you come with me to this place in the first place. My first thought, and it really says something about my mind, was that I was going to actually have a time to have some fun with both you and Evan -- wrong. Then I thought it was to have someone to keep Joan company while you played your little boy games, but since I think Rev. Bem knew the baby was coming, Trance would have been a much better first choice. Trance probably would have been better company anyway, and my skills are much better used piloting the Andromeda."

"Stop ranting, Beka. I invited you here because I HAD planned to spend time with you -- and not with Evan. You have to believe me that I did not know the events of these past few days would have worked out like this. You're right, I would have left you on the Andromeda. If Rev. Bem knew the baby was coming and had told me, I assure you that I would have brought Trance. I brought YOU, Beka Valentine, because there was something I wanted to tell you, no there was something I wanted to ask you. But I'm afraid my timing is a little bit off. So I am going to wait, if you will let me."

"OK, I'll wait. But tell me about this Malcolm guy."

"We'll have time later, Beka. Believe me, I have nothing but time."

* * * * *

"We're going to have another naming ceremony on the ship. I want everyone from the Andromeda there. I think I want to include my other son and his mother and I am not sure I want to bring them here to Halcyon, but Dylan and Evan, there are some things I want to share with you on the first night of my son's life." Tyr had carried the baby, now wrapped in a blanket that had been stored with the mummy on the Andromeda, to the fountain where they had met that morning. A crescent moon hung in the eastern sky, and the stars were brighter than anyone remembered from the night before.

"Please sit down, I think I am going to pontificate for a while, bear with me. There is a lot that has to be said, and after it is said tonight, I hope a lot of it is quickly forgotten."

The four men exchanged glances, maybe this was the true male bonding, not eating rabbits, drinking wine, or breathing campfire smoke.

"Until recently," Tyr began again, "I as a Nietzschean I have doubted the existence of God or Gods. I am still confused. Someone told me that a confused Nietzschean is a sorry Nietzschean. I am not sorry. I feel as if I have stood in the presence of gods and have felt the work of the divine. The strength that unites us all is a thing called love. I feel that most of all here, even on a day of great loss, because of a love that unites us.

"So I am here today, to name my child and to ask for the spirit that has shown its presence, but not as yet revealed its identity, to offer its protection for this child of mine. A child who will have to grow to adulthood without the woman who gave birth to him, but certainly he will not be alone as he will be in the care and presence of many who will love him and channel the energy of the divine to him.

"On our return from the Andromeda, my dear friend, Ares told me the story of a woman who had a child conceived in similarly mysterious circumstances. The child had two mothers, and many others who loved it, but there was one man who was not allowed to share in the love."

"We knew her too, Tyr," Dylan said. "I gave up my sanity, or as I have recently learned, the full knowledge of my immortality, to save that child. I was never sure it was worth it. Gods, maybe I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry, everyone. Continue Tyr."

"This child is different. He is my son. I will not "not allow" this man, this alleged God, to love him this time. This child will have two fathers, even though genetics tests say neither of us can be the biological father.

"Why Joan D'Arc was chosen to bear the child who will grow to start a new race of Nietzscheans, we will never know. How she became pregnant, we do not need to ask. It enough to accept that she did, and that this child is very, very precious.

"The child Ares told me about, a girl, was named Eve. I see it is only fitting to call my son Adam. Nietzschean surnames do not identify family, when we need to indicate family we include the lineage. But I consider my surname to be important part of my identity, as will be this child's. His surname will be "Huntwell." It is not a name others will recognize. Perhaps they will think it derived from some ancient ancestors of humanity, from a time just after man emerged from the caves, and it is, but we don't have to tell them how.

"I hope you will consider it a small token of my willingness to include you also in the family of this child. A boy cannot have too many fathers."

"So I present to you, Adam Huntwell out of Joan D'Arc by Tyr Anasazi. May he live long and prosper."

He held the naked baby to the sky.

"Behold Adam Huntwell, the only thing greater than yourself."

"What was that? What ceremony is that from?" Dylan asked.

"Ah, Andromeda saw it in old movie and told Ares about it. I thought it sounded pretty very impressive."

* * * * *

Libra X, five months later

Evan Hopewell noticed a flash in the corner of his eye and turned his head. He was surprised to see a tired looking Harry Wagner standing in his room.

"What are you doing here?" He asked in a somewhat startled voice.

"I live here, don't I?"

"You what?"

"I believe this to be my last known residence. You, me, together, sharing a room, bothering each other. I remember you were doing research on Nietzschean genetics and needed help from me reading certain scrolls."

"Dah, that was a while ago Ares. I am working on inter-galactic trade reports now, that project is over. Last I remember you were off playing 'Adam has two fathers' with Tyr Anasazi."

"Oh, yea, decided to take a break from that. I was the one stuck 'materializing' clean diapers. I know that is what I do, but I don't have to like it. Baby poop stinks."

"Mothers have had to do that for centuries."

"The God of War is not a Mother."

There was no way Evan could convince himself to even try to pretend that the material he had been reading was more interesting than talking to Ares.

"Ares, I have one question. How come Tyr was so mellow about the baby? I know if my girlfriend had a baby that looked exactly like you, or even Herc, I probably would come after you with a chain saw or a high guard force lance. What did you make-up to tell him?"

"I didn't make anything up. I told him the truth."

"The truth. What is the truth? How do you come to think that you might possibly know it?"

"The truth, that is written in that scroll you brought from Joan D'Arc. The one I "tried" to translate for you. I guess now, since everything is going well, I can tell you what it really says."

"What does it REALLY say?"

"Basically what I told you, that Paul Musevini looked for an all recessive individual, but he wanted someone "important" too. He went to a librarian, not here, but back at Ayn Rand Station and found this guy Malcolm Suess. Malcolm wasn't recessive enough either, but he made a suggestion. An unsung Hero, an immortal. . . damn you're smart enough to figure out the rest."

"Me, I was the progenitor."

"No, he was a clone of you. Paul did research on his cells and created toxic sperm and bone spurs and other, things related to Nietzschean survival, but basically the Progenitor was a clone of good old Iolaus."

"So I AM the baby's father. I knew there was a chance that I might be, but wasn't sure my sperm was strong enough. Guess it was." The smile on his face grew broad.

"Close, but not quite, Iolaus. The story goes on that the reincarnated progenitor has to be a clone, but not of the mummified body which would be far too easy, but of the actual Alpha person. A clone of you, buddy."

"Joan D'Arc was here in Libra X when Tyr found her, looking for you, not to get pregnant, but to get some of your DNA. Even with you gone it wasn't hard to find. She could get all she needed from those little strands of blonde hair all over the rug. By the way, do you ever vacuum? Then she had to wait for a convenient time to start the pregnancy. The rest is easy, if you are a Nietzschean biochemist."

"But I had sex with her, believe me it wasn't my idea. Why?"

"She needed that sex to create egg, then its DNA was replaced by yours. Tyr was being too careful. You had to get her primed so she could go to the clinic and be implanted with the clone.

"So the baby really doesn't have a father. "

"Think he has about seventeen if you count everyone at the staff at the clinic on Halcyon. Guess she was fortunate that I did a great job of keeping Tyr occupied. Had I have known, I would have tried to do an even better job." It was that Ares grin with which Evan was far too familiar.

"You rat."

"It's. . .

"I know, it's what you do."

"So, why are you here now. Why aren't you back on the Andromeda with Tyr and the baby?"

Ares gave one of his pouts that quickly morphed into a smile. "You know, you've heard that mother's go through a periods of being totally disinterested in sex after a child is born, but I didn't think it applied to fathers. I was fine with it for a while, playing dad was fun, but then. . . "

"You came here back. Are you forgetting this is Libra X?"

"I didn't say I came here for sex. I said Tyr wasn't interested. There was someone else on the ship who sure as hell was. Someone with remarkable stamina. Someone to whom I couldn't say no. I'm whipped, Evan. I need to get my strength back up."

"You didn't? Who?"

"If you think I am going to tell you, you're crazy. I just need a break, Evan. I'll go back. Just need to rest a bit?"

"Who? Not Dylan? Harper?"

Ares smiled one of his big smiles. Evan would never guess. He was again the God of War!

THE END

May 2002
 

Author's note: Thanks everyone for reading this saga. With this episode I am going to take a short break. I know there are websites out there who would love to have my ADAM HAS TWO FATHER'S stories, but I'm not going to be the one who writes them. If someone else does, they are welcome to use these characters as they aren't really mine anyway. So I am going to let Evan and Harry go back to reading books and jerking off, and maybe someday they might be back. In the meantime trust Mandy to find some more exciting stories to keep us all happy.

Jude
 

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