A Beach, Ancient Greece, Thursday Fandom Time
"So," Xena said, watching Perdicas walk along a dozen or so paces ahead of her and Gabrielle, "what's your answer?"
Gabrielle's answer was firm, even if her laugh was a little uneasy. "No, of course." She'd been betrothed to him from childhood and run away to avoid having to marry him, and then a couple of years later he'd turned up outside the walls of Troy in armor and looking like a total hotass, and he'd been writing her letters ever since. But come on, what else was she supposed to say when he showed up at their campfire late at night (hours after she'd arrived from Fandom, even), got punched in the face by Xena for his trouble, and then immediately went down on one knee and asked her to marry him?
"Why don't you tell him, then?" Leave it to Xena to ask the question that was completely obvious but really not that simple.
"I'm waiting for the right time," Gabrielle stalled. "And a nice way to say 'I'm sorry, but we haven't even fought a washing machine together so I don't know if I can say we're close enough for that.'"
"Not the washing machine thing again? He's a good man." Xena occasionally had a nice diplomatic turn of phrase -- not bad for the former Destroyer of Nations and erstwhile scourge of the ancient world from Britannia to Japan oh wait we won't find out about that until the very last episode because that makes sense so we'll just say, conveniently vaguely, places further east than Gabrielle had ever been, and might only be able to pinpoint on a map in Fandom if the pinpoint was the size of a ballista bolt large enough to kill a giant evil centaur.
Gabrielle appreciated that, and smiled at her. "He is. He's so sensitive and kind. You know, I've never known anyone that I've ever been so comfortable around -- besides you." Beat. "And Bobby. And Dinah. And Karla . . ."
At least up until the love spell fiasco at the play. Things had been a little awkward ever since. Gabrielle bit her lip. Glanced at Xena, bit her lip again. Huh. Glanced ahead at Perdicas.
. . . huh.
"Look, Gabrielle." Xena put a hand on her arm and leaned in slightly, which was always a cue that they were about to have one of their more sensitive talks. "If it’s me you’re worried about, let me set your mind at rest. Seeing you happy will make me happy. And if that means settling down with Perdicas, then -- you have my blessing."
That was not making this any less complicated, Warrior Princess. Thanks.
Usually when they heard the teeth-grinding rusty squeak of Joxer's armor it was like a harbinger of massive irritation approaching, but at the moment it saved Gabrielle from having to answer right away.
"Xena!" he yelled down at them from the top of the beachside cliff. "Xena! It's Callisto! She's out."
. . . no. No, this was not going to be an improvement over any other visit from Joxer. At. All.
[OOC: DUN DUN DUN. To be continued. NFI and NFB for distance, OOC okay. I don't know what kind of crack this narrative is on but I blame it on being in high altitude.]
Gabrielle's answer was firm, even if her laugh was a little uneasy. "No, of course." She'd been betrothed to him from childhood and run away to avoid having to marry him, and then a couple of years later he'd turned up outside the walls of Troy in armor and looking like a total hotass, and he'd been writing her letters ever since. But come on, what else was she supposed to say when he showed up at their campfire late at night (hours after she'd arrived from Fandom, even), got punched in the face by Xena for his trouble, and then immediately went down on one knee and asked her to marry him?
"Why don't you tell him, then?" Leave it to Xena to ask the question that was completely obvious but really not that simple.
"I'm waiting for the right time," Gabrielle stalled. "And a nice way to say 'I'm sorry, but we haven't even fought a washing machine together so I don't know if I can say we're close enough for that.'"
"Not the washing machine thing again? He's a good man." Xena occasionally had a nice diplomatic turn of phrase -- not bad for the former Destroyer of Nations and erstwhile scourge of the ancient world from Britannia to Japan oh wait we won't find out about that until the very last episode because that makes sense so we'll just say, conveniently vaguely, places further east than Gabrielle had ever been, and might only be able to pinpoint on a map in Fandom if the pinpoint was the size of a ballista bolt large enough to kill a giant evil centaur.
Gabrielle appreciated that, and smiled at her. "He is. He's so sensitive and kind. You know, I've never known anyone that I've ever been so comfortable around -- besides you." Beat. "And Bobby. And Dinah. And Karla . . ."
At least up until the love spell fiasco at the play. Things had been a little awkward ever since. Gabrielle bit her lip. Glanced at Xena, bit her lip again. Huh. Glanced ahead at Perdicas.
. . . huh.
"Look, Gabrielle." Xena put a hand on her arm and leaned in slightly, which was always a cue that they were about to have one of their more sensitive talks. "If it’s me you’re worried about, let me set your mind at rest. Seeing you happy will make me happy. And if that means settling down with Perdicas, then -- you have my blessing."
That was not making this any less complicated, Warrior Princess. Thanks.
Usually when they heard the teeth-grinding rusty squeak of Joxer's armor it was like a harbinger of massive irritation approaching, but at the moment it saved Gabrielle from having to answer right away.
"Xena!" he yelled down at them from the top of the beachside cliff. "Xena! It's Callisto! She's out."
. . . no. No, this was not going to be an improvement over any other visit from Joxer. At. All.
[OOC: DUN DUN DUN. To be continued. NFI and NFB for distance, OOC okay. I don't know what kind of crack this narrative is on but I blame it on being in high altitude.]