A Night On The Town

Xena looked up from her paperwork with her most officious smile. In order to finance her perpetual travelling, she had to actually hold down a real job for a few months of the year – and at present she was employed by the government to hunt down big name tax evaders. She’d heard the phrase “hunting” and had said yes straight away.

“Can I help you – oh, it’s you.”

“Well, you could sound a bit more enthusiastic!” Gabrielle protested, jumping into the swivel chair opposite Xena and spinning herself around a few times. “Especially since I’ve brought you lunch.”

Xena looked at her friend with a faintly amused air. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?” Then she looked at the container which Gabrielle had dumped on the table. “Oh.”

Gabrielle stopped spinning. “What?”

“Well, usually you’d bring Chinese, or Thai, or maybe a sandwich from the deli. Let’s face it, usually you wouldn’t bring me lunch anyway. But you’ve brought Moroccan, Gabrielle. You’ve brought the good stuff.” Xena leaned forward and fixed her coldest stare on her friend’s eyes. “What is it?”

Gabrielle gave a nervous laugh, and moved over to the window. “What’s what?”

“Gabrielle?” Xena growled.

“This is a really – interesting picture, Xena. Did you choose it?”

“The flowers? Yeah, I thought they’d suit the office,” Xena replied nonchalantly. “But don’t change the subject!”

Gabrielle turned from the Georgia O’Keefe reproduction and faced Xena with some trepidation. “Well – there is something I wanted to speak to you about.”

“Spill it,” Xena commanded, opening the container of couscous greedily.

“Um – well – how do you feel about blind dates?”

“GABRIELLE!!!!”

"You signed up for a dating agency?”

Hercules slid another black coffee over the kitchen table and stared at his very hung-over brother. “Must’ve been one hell of a bucks night. Do you even remember doing it?”

"If I had been sober enough to remember anything do you think I would have done it?" Ares snapped and regretted it when his head started to spin. He leant it against the cool of the table and tried to remember not to open his eyes. His hand crept out over the table, searching for the coffee.

"Well if it's so bad don't do it."

"Too late!” Ares groaned. “The money's been paid – on credit card, and it’s been cleared already, damn banks – oh, and it's non refundable. I hate myself!"

Hercules regarded his brother with amusement. “This is what comes of being too tight with money, Ares. Now, if I’d made a mistake like that – which I wouldn’t have, seeing I don’t drink anything stronger than fresh, healthful water – I would have chalked it up to experience, and hoped that the recipients of my money would do more good with it than I had.”

“Ow!” Ares yelped as his fingers made contact with the coffee. He tried to sip it lying down, but it didn’t work and he pulled himself half upright instead. “I hope you realise that I didn’t hear anything past the ‘If I’d’ part.”

“I did.” Hercules sighed, then brightened. “Well, on the other hand, this will probably be a good experience for you. After all, you might meet a really nice woman!”

Ares tried to leer unsuccessfully. “I have no problem with finding a bed for the night.”

Hercules looked disapproving. “I wasn’t talking about that, Ares. I meant you might find some nice young woman and fall in love with her.”

Ares choked, and then shouted as Hercules hit him helpfully on the back. “Are you kidding? What kind of woman signs up for a dating agency?”

"You did what?" The voice echoed down the hallway, bouncing off windows and reaching the ears of people at the other end of the building.

Xena took a deep breath and removed her hand from around her best friend’s throat.

"You're very hard to buy for, it's like purchasing a present for an elephant in a tutu you've never met before."

"I remind you of an elephant in a tutu?" Xena raised an eyebrow and sighed.

"That's not what I meant and you know it! Look - your birthday was just around the corner, I didn't know what to get and I panicked. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"I needed new slippers, you could have got me those."

"Look how awful is it really? You go, have a few drinks, have a few laughs, come back and tell me all about it and we'll laugh a whole lot more and all will be well."

"A dating agency...I just, no, no way!" Xena shook her head and sat down slowly.

"Who knows, you may meet 'Mr Tall Dark and Handsome'," Gabrielle giggled slightly at herself before returning her attention back to Xena.

"Or 'Mr I'm going to stalk you, murder you in your sleep and hunt down your family,'" Xena smiled sweetly before finishing off her serving.

"Either way I'm sure you'll have lots of fun," Gabrielle dumped a load of paperwork into Xena's lap. "Now fill this out and send it in, it's your profile."

Xena flicked through the pages and snorted. "Eye colour, body shape, what's my dream date? Aw come on Gabrielle you've got to be kidding!"

"No and you know why you're going to do it?"

"Why?"

"Because I have fifteen years of friendship with you and with this comes fifteen years of blackmail material.”

”I hate you.”

“This is really over-stretching the friendship,” Xena grumbled as she walked by Gabrielle’s side through the shopping mall.

Gabrielle sighed. “Xena, you actually have to wear clothes for this date. Clothes apart from jeans and a t-shirt.”

“I have clothes!” Xena argued defensively.

“You have power suits designed to frighten Kerry Packer into coughing up his dough. Nice job, by the way. Not exactly the impression you want to give, however, to a potential suitor.”

Xena laughed bitterly. “Suitor? I can tell you, this guy will be only interested in one thing. And if that’s the case, I might as well just turn up without anything on at all.”

“Nor is that the impression we’re aiming for.”

They passed by a large department store. Gabrielle grabbed Xena’s arm and pulled.

“Xena, you actually need to enter a store in order to see the clothes.”

“But there’s an outdoor shop over there!” Xena wailed. “I know they’re going to have those cool new crossbows on sale . . .”

Gabrielle paused. “Promise me you won’t mention crossbows in conversation tonight?”

She drew her friend over to women’s clothing, and began to browse through the racks of dresses. “You’re tall, you’ve got the perfect figure, I don’t know why you won’t take advantage of it . . . what about this?”

Xena stared in horror at the bright green knee-length frock. She began backing away.

“I – I – don’t think I can do this, Gabrielle.”

“All right then, what about this one, then?”

“It’s pink! I don’t think you’re supposed to wear pink – I’m sure I read it somewhere . . .”

“You have to try on something!”

“I don’t like any of them,” Xena answered sulkily. “Can we please check out the outdoor store?”

“Only if you promise to try on the very next dress after that I see,” Gabrielle bargained.

Xena sighed heavily. “All right. Well – if I like it, anyway.”

“Xena!”

“I don’t know – the agency chose it, some place with security – hidden cameras too, probably,” Ares snorted. “I’ll give them a show, if they like!” He tossed the can at Hercules and sat down at the table opposite.

“What’s it called?”

“’Polyhymnia’s Palace’ . . . sounds like a brothel, actually.”

Hercules choked.

“It’s disgusting, Hercules – why don’t you just admit it, and drink beer like ordinary people?”

Hercules shook his head. “No, it wasn’t that – I mean – uh –“

Ares looked up. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m sure you’ll have a good time.”

“Oh yeah. Polyhymnia’s Palace, for a real good time,” Ares murmured under his breath. “I’d better head off, anyway. Oh, and if your buddy comes over, tell him he still owes me for drinking all the beer last time I was out.”

“Yeah – of course, I’ll mention it,” Hercules mumbled, holding the door open and watching as Ares straddled his motorbike and headed out into the night.

Then he tossed the aloe vera in the bin and headed for the beer.

“OK, this is the one, I like this,” Xena announced, walking out of the tiny changing cubicle.

Gabrielle fell backwards. “You are SO beautiful!!!”

Xena rolled her eyes. “Not so effective after the first time, is it? Get up.”

She looked into the long mirror again, surreptiously admiring herself.

“All right, but you realise you need to wear a bra under that?”

“Oh, come on. First a dress, and now a bra?” Xena shook her head. “What are you trying to do to me?”

“I have no idea,” Gabrielle replied honestly, “but whatever it is has to be done in by six, so get going.” She rifled through the rows of lingerie. “Here, try this – and this – and try this one, too.” Then she looked again. “Actually, better get a bigger size. All right – Xena!”

“What about this?”

“We’re talking about underwear, not full body armour, Xena,” Gabrielle explained patiently. “Now remember, you’ve got to meet this bloke at Polyhymnia’s Palace by 6:30!”

“Sounds like a brothel,” Xena snorted.

“It’s not,” Gabrielle promised her. “It’s – er – you’ll enjoy it, promise.”

Just as the taxi drew up at the kerb, it began to rain. And it was only after it shot off that Xena realised that it had dropped her the wrong side of the road.

Typical, Xena thought. She hesitated under the awning, waiting for a break in the traffic in order to cross. The rain got heavier and heavier.

Just as she moved forward to make a dash for it, a huge Harley drew up right in front of her. It was a perfect piece of machinery, and Xena could not move from the sight of it, bright under the fluoro street lamp, glistening with raindrops.

Then she looked at the rider.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Pity some idiot just side-swiped me,” the man commented, pulling his helmet from his head. He indicated a scratch of about an inch long in the paintwork.

“What a bastard!” Xena agreed with feeling, running reverent hands over the bike. “How could anyone even approach –“

“I know,” the man nodded. “And you wouldn’t believe how often it happens, either. Not by looking at her, anyway.”

“She’s in perfect condition – I’ve never seen anything quite like her!” Xena breathed.

“I call her ‘Argo’” the man admitted depreciatingly.

“After the boat?”

He frowned. “No – I just like the name. Why would I name a bike after a boat?”

“I have no idea,” Xena replied. “I’m Xena, by the way.”

“Ares.”

“After the star-sign?”

“No – why would I . . .”

“Forget it. Let’s get a beer.”

“Good idea.”

“Pol – Pol – PolyHYMN’s place,” Ares slurred, coming out onto the street several hours later. “Thas where I’m s’posed to be.”

Xena laughed. “Really? I’m s’posed to be at Polya – Polyhya – Polyhymya’s palace too!”

“Les go there then!” Ares suggested, wrapping an arm around Xena’s waist. “It’s over there.”

It was over there, under a very brightly lit fluorescent sign. They made several attempts at crossing the road before they were successful – then they had to find the stairs. That took a while, too.

They found themselves in a dimly lit corridor, facing a quantity of small numbered doors. A young man sat at reception, flicking through a magazine.

“Ares,” Ares managed to get out clearly. “An – this is – Xena.”

“And I’m Bob. You’re late,” the young man told him crisply, “but luckily there’s been a cancellation. You’re in room number five.”

“Me?” Ares asked.

“Both of you, of course.”

Xena and Ares looked at one another and shrugged. “OK.”

Bob led them down the corridor and pushed open the door. “You’ve got an hour.”

They stared inside.

There was a black leather couch. Actually, there were two – and they weren’t leather. It seemed to be some kind of plastic.

There was a large television, with a box next to it.

Xena and Ares sat on the couch and stared.

“What is it?”

“No idea,” Ares admitted. “Hey! Man with the Woman’s Weekly!”

Bob turned back around and glared. “What?”

“What is it?”

“Haven’t you ever – oh, forget it. Here. Press this button, and a song will come up. Sing along to it. You’ve got an hour.”

He shoved the remote control into Ares’ hand and shut the door firmly.

“Sing along to it?” Ares repeated, and burst out laughing. “What the –“

“I know!” Xena exclaimed excitedly. “This is kare – kare – karate!”

Ares frowned. “No, I think you need to wear a dressing-gown for karate, and –“

“No – it’s – kareke. Where you sing along to a song.”

“Oh. Why?”

Xena looked puzzled. “I don’t know. What do you think will happen?”

Ares shrugged. “I don’t know. I think we’re supposed to press this button, though . . .”

Gabrielle managed to find Polyhymnia’s Palace without much difficulty, ensuring the taxi driver parked on the right side of the street, and waited for her. She noticed a ute pulling up right behind her.

“Where is she?” she demanded, taking the stairs two and a time and landed in a furious heap at reception.

“They are in there. We’ve had two bouncers try to evict them, and –“ Bob began.

Gabrielle saw the bodies in the hallway.

“You really shouldn’t get Xena mad, you know –“ she explained lamely, then stopped as she was pushed aside by a large blonde man.

“Where is he!”

This time, Bob simply pointed.

A kind of terrifying noise was coming from the far room. Gabrielle and Hercules made their way gingerly over towards the cacophony, and peered inside.

It was a frighting sight. Xena and Ares were standing on the couches, grasping the microphones, and singing into them wildly. Gabrielle thought she recognised the Disney Medley.

“Uh – Xena? I think it’s time you came home now,” she began sweetly.

“But it’s so much fun, Scabrielle! Come and join us – well, as long as you don’t hog the microphone.”

“Ares? Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Hercules remonstrated with his brother. “After all, you need to work tomorrow.”

“Is that beer I smell on your breath?” Ares asked suspiciously.

“No – it’s this place that smells, not me,” Hercules lied quickly. “Come on – your bike’s been left out there all night!”

Xena and Ares stared at each other, then jumped off the couch and followed their friends out the door tamely.

“’Night Ares, that was a really really good rendition of `That’s What Friends Are For’” Xena called as she was pushed inside a taxi.

“Your version of ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’ was better,” Ares assured her, before lifting his bike into the back of Hercules’ ute. “I’ll see you –“

But the taxi was already gone.

“No, we don’t give out client details. No. We don’t give out last names or addresses, and no, we won’t set up another meeting. No.”

A pause.

“Um – taxation department, did you say?”

Another pause.

“And what were those details again, ma’am? Let me help you . . .”

...h.o.m.e...
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