VIVA

This is another of those stories that sat around for a long time waiting to be finished. Parts of it were even cannibalized for a birthday story on Talking Hercules. However, the idea of Ares in Las Vegas meeting vacationing women from all over the country was pretty fascinating, and eventually the ending came . . . from the same source as the original story. I guess this story is rated R, thought it is pretty calm for a McJude story.

VIVA LAS VEGAS Ares roars into town.

The strip of highway through the desert was empty this time of night. Ares liked it that way. He could ride his Harley as fast as he wanted and think about nothing but its power surging between his thighs. He needed this after the events of this afternoon, so why wouldn't the memories go away?

Damn those stupid people anyway.   His first thought was just to let them go about their merry ways and reveal the scroll's contents. It would have made everyone unhappy and then maybe they all would have gone away. The shippers, the subbers, those past-life people, gods it was awful having all those people playing with your life. Hanging on every sentence as gospel truth, and never being able, ever, to take a joke. Now they had even managed to get him to destroy the scroll, as if it made any difference.   Next year they would probably find some other scroll written in Japanese that people would use to show that those fools at Renaissance Studios knew what they were talking about when they wrote Friends in Need. That's all they needed to make everyone in these damn groups contemplate ritual suicide.   He smiled widely, and hoped there were no bugs in the night air to get caught between his teeth.

The sun was just tinting the eastern horizon pink when he rode into Vegas.   The night air had made him feel better, erasing the memories of all those crazy people.   Morning was the best time to gamble if you wanted to win big and not be noticed.

He always started slowly.   Quarter machines.   He would win a couple of hundred dollars and then move up.   It would look odd if some one just put a token in one of those $1000 machines and hit -- he had to convince them that he was just lucky. Win enough that a $1000 bet would be perceived just for fun.   If he passed himself off as a high roller and took one of their expensive, stupid luxury suites, he would have to explain -- at least some things. This way he was just lucky.   Sometimes when he needed to amass a large amount of money he would start at the downtown casinos and move out to the strip when he "was smiled upon by Fortune".   Today he just needed to forget, so he checked into Caesar's Palace immediately. He got a kick out of that place.

On the way out he ran a list of aliases through his head. He seemed he had used up all the good ones. No one was going to believe his name was Barry Bach or Cary Chopin.   He finally settled on Gary Farr. Absolutely no one was going to figure that one out -- probably even if they were from New Zealand. He parked his chopper in the garage, checked into an average priced room with a King sized bed, and headed for the casino. He changed a twenty-dollar bill into quarters and went to work.

The blonde young woman sitting at the machine next to him was swearing under her breath. He had noticed that she had been feeding one quarter at a time into the machine and had only hit a few cherries during the time she had been playing.

"If you play three coins at a time, I believe you have a better chance of winning." He commented to her.

"If I play three coins at a time, I lose my money three times faster."

"You working on losing today's money, or yesterday's?" He asked knowing that women like her kept track of how much they were "allowed" to lose in a day.

"Thursday's."

"It's only Monday."

"Exactly."

"So why not live a little and put in three coins.   Here, some people think I am lucky. Rub my hand." He had thought about asking her to rub his thigh but figured she'd pass on that -- she looked like that kind of woman.

"OK, why not. What am I going to do with another seventy-five cents next week anyway."

"Exactly."

He stopped playing as she put in the coins and hit the play button with her fist.   He watched as two diamonds lined up and the third hit below the line, with the bottom pointing up, and slowly slipped into alignment. The lights lit up and a few hundred coins fell into the bin.

"Hey, I won." Look at this. Look at all these coins.

"Going to get a few more, look. The payoff for three diamonds is 10,000 coins. That means you just won $2,500 dollars. Should keep you in quarters for a while, but you will have to fill out a few forms with the management."

"I've never won anything like this before. I just can't believe it."

He quickly cashed out the coins from his machine. He had only played a few times and already had amassed about $100.   He didn't want the casino employee who was coming to take her to the win-window to see him this early in the visit.

"Maybe I'll see you later."

"I'm going to find my girl-friend and take her out for a big breakfast. Steak and champagne."

So he was on the right track. He hoped the world "girl friend" was just a phrase. He didn't need to have to deal with THAT this time. He wondered about his touch though. He had only intended for her to win a couple of hundred dollars. That would have made a good enough story for her to take back to her friends in Iowa City or where ever they were living now. She could tell her story when she got back home, because her "girl friend" probably wouldn't be telling anyone hers.

*   *   *   *   *

He gave them a reasonable time to collect the money, share the good news and decide where to go to eat. He found them in Café Roma eating medium rare New York Strip steaks and a medium priced bottle of champagne.   Her girlfriend fit the profile, too. This was going to be so much better than the weekend in LA.

"Hi," He said walking over to the table. "Are you going to introduce your good luck charm to your friend?"

"Oh, hello. Sorry, I was just reveling in my decadence. That is a good thing in which to revel, right?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way." He turned to her friend. "Gary Farr."

"Thea Lidstrom. I could have used you last night at the craps table. Where were you at 3 AM?

"In the middle of the desert on my motorcycle wishing that Las Vegas was two hundred miles closer to LA. Sorry I wasn't here to help. Maybe tonight?"

"I can't wait. I'm going shopping, The.   Do you want to finish my steak, Gary?" The blonde woman looked like she was just about to jump out of her skin.

"No thank you, but if Thea doesn't mind, I'll stay and have a glass of champagne." He pulled a chair over to their table and caught her friend's bright blue eyes. He hoped she would put up a little resistance. He didn't want it to be too easy.

"I was going to leave, too. I still have to do my run before it gets too hot out there."

"You mean until it gets in the 100's instead of just the high 90's." She grimaced back at him.   "You should have run last night, after you lost at the crap table."

"I'm crazy but I'm not stupid. I'd only run at night in this city if I had an armed guard running with me, and maybe even. . . "

"Do you want someone to run with you this morning?"

"Thought you didn't do heat?"

"I never said that, I just suggested night as a better time. I'll go change and meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes." He chugged the glass of champagne he had just poured.   At least he wouldn't be running with steak in his stomach.

* *   * *

He was glad that he had thrown shorts, a tee shirt and running shoes in his bag before he left. He had learned that lesson once when he had had to purchase such equipment in the hotel store. It wasn't as if it were that expensive, it was just hard to convince someone that you were ready for a five, ten or even twenty mile run wearing brand new shorts and shoes. For some reason they didn't want to believe you.   He did have to purchase a towel and waterbottle, but once he removed the labels, they didn't look as suspect.

"How far you planning to go?" He asked.

"I dunno . . 10? 15?"

"Unless you are going to do it in laps, better decide now, I don't want to end up deciding to just do 10 and not be back here. That last five miles can be a bear when you have to walk them back to the hotel."

"I can go fifteen. I was asking you."

"All right fifteen it is, but I think I might need more water."

"Just water? There's a place we can refill if you need it, I'm not leading you off into the desert until I am sure that you can handle it, big guy."

* * * *

She had set an easy pace that allowed them to talk as they ran.   He liked that. There were lots of little things he had to check out before he was certain . . .hell he was certain the second he set eyes on her blonde companion.   It had been a long time since a connection had been this easy. Maybe it was repayment for the events of the weekend.

He found out that she worked in the I.T. department of a bank in Indianapolis. She ran about 100 miles a week, participated in Iron Women Competition, liked horseback riding, took kick-boxing, and he was about to do his yada, yada when she added.

"I'm also three months pregnant."

"What? I didn't see that."

"Can't see it yet, unless you look on ultra-sound. It's a boy."

"Husband, boyfriend?"

"Just Mazie."

"Mazie?"

"My friend back in the hotel.   Her really name is Gabrielle, but I call her Mazie because she is so damn amazing in bed.   We're having our own little Turkey Gobbler in about . . ."

"You're shitting me, aren't you?"

She got a smile on her face.   "Well, you aren't as gullible as one would think, Gary. I like that in a man."

"Does that mean I get to try, or do I just get to try and watch?"

"Try all you want, but I'm not sure you will be successful."

"It's the trying I like."

She gave a little cough. She had not realized that he had increased the pace of the run to a point where it was rivaling the times of professional runners.   He liked to go fast, whether on his bike, on the road, or with women.

* * * *

Both beds were covered with a collection of T-shirts, baseball caps, mini-skirts, spike heels, and numerous accessories that seemed to not go with any of the items. Kay seemed to have gone wild and spent her winnings on quantity and not quality. Most of the things she suggested would be laughed at back in Indianapolis once the "telling everyone you won in Vegas" thrill was over. Kay was asleep across the top of her bed, lying on even more clothes.

"All that shopping wore you out, hey?"

She muttered something and rolled over and looked at her friend.

"That was quick."

"Your friend likes to run fast. I don't think my legs are gong to recover for a while. Why did I tell him that I ran Iron Man Competitions?"

"What are you doing with that poor man's mind?"

"You know, the usual game.   I even told him your name was Gabrielle. You should have seen the look on his face.   I think he thinks I am Xena?"

"You're not doing that again. I thought you learned the last time when that guy in the Bahamas entered you in the Sumo Wrestling contest.   Why do you do that to men?"

"I can't help it if I look like her.   It's just a fun thing to do.   The only good thing about the two of us looking so much like Xena and Gabrielle is that I get to meet men who look like Ares."

"And I get to meet men who look like Joxer, or women who want to tell me how we empowered them. Why do you get to have all the fun?"

"I'm not the one who just spent all her winnings on Viva Las Vegas souvenirs."

"What you going to do now?"

"I'm going to change into my tiniest bikini and go lay by the pool?"

"Is he coming too?"

"No, he is going to play slots for a while, but when he gets there, I will be ready."

"If he's playing slots, I am going to have to find him. He sure was lucky this morning."

* *   *   *

"Where's your friend?" Gary asked as the blond sat down next to him. He had moved up to dollar slots, but then he knew that by now she thought of him as a good luck charm now.

"At the pool."

"Swimming 100 or so laps I suppose."

"No, sleeping. You wore her out."

"So, she can't take it. I guess being pregnant does that to you." He waited and was delighted by the shocked look on her face.

"Don't tell me she pulled that one on you. The is a real joker. Glad you called her on the Iron Woman thingy, too. I don't think she's ever gone more than 10 miles at a pop."

"She did this morning, she did 15, at a pretty fast pace. Hope I didn't cause any permanent damaged."

"When she crawls to the bathroom tonight, I'll think of you."

"How you doing on the slots."

"OK, holding my own."

"Put in three tokens."

"No way."

"You listened to me this morning, right."

She put in the tokens and watched as a combination came up that indicated a $600 payoff.

"Now, don't spend that all at once."

"I'm moving back to quarters, I have enough to pay for the rest of my vacation, if I never win again.. . and you big guy, if you know what's good for you, I suggest you head for the pool."

* *   *   *

He passed by the pool, hoping he could catch a glimpse, and was not disappointed. She was wearing this black bikini that looked like it was made from shoelaces and eye-patches. All oiled up and baking in the hot Nevada sun. He was glad he was wearing loose trousers. What the hell, he entered the pool area in his street clothes and walked over to her.

"Hot enough for you?"

"Like it hot."

"I'm on my way back to my room to change. But was worried that I might be tempted to stay in the cool."

"Chicken."

"In that case. . . ." He was about to drop his trousers and lie there in his underwear, but realized . . .

"You wouldn't dare, would you?"

"Guess I'd better change.   No spedo's for me, at least while you are around."

"Well, I could come up and help. . . then maybe you could wear a spedo."

"You don't know me babe."

"I will shortly."

* *   *   *   *

"Want some juice, or a drink, or something. Honestly, Thea, I'm used to having to do a little bit of ritual courting."

"I thought that's what the run was." She smiled again with an evil grin. She flopped down spread eagle on his bed and looked up at him with her blue eyes.   He walked around the room, removing his clothing and shaking his head.

"What are you, Thea Lidstrom?"

"I'm just an I.T. manager from Indianapolis, whose been here a week and has yet to meet a guy worth taking her clothes of for. You win, Mr. Farr."

"Gee, thanks, I think."

* * *

Kay move over to the machine her good luck charm had been playing and was shocked to notice that he had left one-hundred eighty seven credits on the machine. He must have been in some hurry to get to the pool to see Thea.   She laughed knowing her friend was worth the price. Now she could gamble for a while and still have enough money to pay for the trip.   Maybe his luck was still in the machine.

He hit the button on the bet he had already placed in the machine and won $15,000 dollars. For some reason she was not shocked, as if it was to be expected on any machine he played. She wondered if the casino would become suspicious of HER with two wins in such a short time. She was glad that she didn't have one of those cards that regarded her gambling patterns. Mr. Farr was just a little bit suspicious.

She filled out the forms and collected her winnings. There was little left in the stores for her to buy to take back to Indianapolis - unless she wanted to start buying real, expensive things. A thought of credit card balances and student loans allowed her to return to the room, where of course, Thea would not be for several hours.

It would be difficult to tell her friend that the man of her dreams for the day, cheated casino's out of money on the slots. That didn't stop her from keeping the money, it just would make Thea's trip a little less enjoyable.

* * *   *

She slid off his cock and collapsed onto the bed. Thea Lidstrum was exactly what she had promised on the run and at the pool. She was athletic and sexually talented. She challenged even his supernatural ability to rise to the occasion again and again, coaxing him on with her mouth and swallowing his reward for talented service.   He reached down and pulled off the full condom and tossed it on the floor. A little something for the maid. Then he promised himself to pick it up when she left, the maid didn't need to share in his disappointment.

For all that Thea Lidstrum was, it was painfully clear, that she was not Xena. She knew the lines, just like those crazy people in L,A. Xena had become part of the popular culture and as such everyone knew what once were secret cues he had come to rely upon over the centuries. His search was never easy, now it had become close to impossible.

She was asleep. He knew it was his cue to exit and wondered if he should leave her a note, or money, on the pillow. One would be insincere, the other insulting. He reached down for the spent condom and figured it would be best to go.

He wondered if he should head south to Arizona or continue east, but opted for more desert and the vast nothingness of Nevada. At the end he would find Reno another mecca for the lost souls of the earth, one of whom might be looking for the former god of war.

* *   * *

He was riding his Harley flat out, the speedometer as far to the right as it would go, without the fear of highway patrol or slower traffic ahead. You could see for miles. He wasn't looking back, figuring he was outrunning even time. Thus when the blur appeared from out of nowhere and swooped into the lane beside him, he blinked his eyes quickly, as if there were something on the visor of his helmet.

What he saw was a vision of chrome, turquoise lacquer, and fringed and beaded leather. It was an antique motorcycle he immediately recognized as an Indian. It was as overdone as it was huge and powerful. The black clad rider turned, looked at him, and smiled. He realized that at this speed any acknowledgement, other than the return of the smile, could create a damaging incident. She made a quick shift and the bike passed him and sped off into the distance.

Was it a hallucination? Or was it . . . The way was clearly marked, there were no other roads for a hundred miles. Soon or later. , , at least he was on the right path. He would find his Xena again.

McJude
July 27, 2003

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