Summary: Gabrielle's injured, and Xena's been run ragged. It's time for bed! Takes place after the Season 1 finale, "Is There a Doctor in the House?" Fluffy hurt/comfort.
“All right, we’ve got you exercised, clean, and fed. You really should try to sleep, Gabrielle.”
Already heavy-lidded eyes squinted up at Xena. “I’m not sure if you’re treating me like a baby or like a horse.”
That earned a smirk, but Gabrielle didn’t feel mocked at all. Xena’s eyes were bright and soft, apparently pleased to indulge some sass from her injured companion. Honestly, she seemed pleased about everything Gabrielle had done since she almost died from grievous injuries sustained outside the temple of Asclepius. Walking in a straight line earned a smile. As did eating. And breathing.
Xena drawled, “I’m treating you like someone who saw the Elysian Fields without diving through a lake first.”
“Are you going to sleep, too, then? In a bed, not slumped over in a doze?”
“Well, I can’t go out like this, can I?” Xena gave an understated flourish toward the oversized, undyed shift she was wearing. The temple had kindly lent them some clean underthings from their acolytes’ wardrobes, allowing Xena to launder their own heavily-soiled garments after cleaning up herself and helping Gabrielle wash. Which hadn’t been awkward at all, of course. Gabrielle certainly didn’t see herself waking up in the middle of the night thinking about Xena’s doting ministrations - the weight of her tender oversight as Gabrielle washed what she could without tearing stitches, the feel of her physically helping with what Gabrielle could not reach. Certainly the memory didn’t spawn a desire to either light herself on fire in embarrassment or spontaneously combust from a different kind of heat.
Gabrielle sniffed and put on an air of mollified reproach. “Good. The acolytes only gave us this room to make sure you slept. I certainly don’t rate a private pair of beds compared to some of the patients out there.” Gabrielle reflexively tossed her hair back and regretted it. “Oww.”
Xena sighed and stepped over to the bunk where Gabrielle sat holding her still-bruised head. She brushed Gabrielle’s hands away and smoothed her hair, letting out a little grumble. “You didn’t tell me your head was still hurting. Look at me. Do you feel sick at all? Or sensitive to light?”
A giggle met the questions. “Stop fussing! It only hurts still when I’m stupid and shake my head like a horse. Again, I blame you for treating me like one.”
“Promise?”
“Yes! Other than my side and my foot, the only thing that aches is my shoulder. Which is ridiculous, you know. I swing a staff in every direction, every day, but apparently hobbling around on a crutch uses a completely different set of muscles?”
“Well, I can’t mend your side faster, but that at least I think I can fix.” Xena slid behind Gabrielle in the pause between breaths and took firm grip of her shoulders.
“Uh?”
Xena slowly squeezed, then began to massage with deliberate pressure, probing for knots and threads of tightness and smoothing them out with force that danced just on the edge of pain. “Let me know if this is too hard - or not hard enough.”
By that point, Gabrielle had already melted away from confusion down to near-bonelessness, now putting forth just enough effort to stay upright and keep the attention going. “It’s perfect. Is this a pressure point thing you learned somewhere?”
Audibly smiling, “Nope, it’s just a massage. But I’ll take the compliment.”
“Mmmgh. If getting hurt makes you pamper me like this, I might do it more often.”
Xena paused and leaned in to purr in Gabrielle’s ear, “Don’t you dare,” before resuming as she was before.
Whoa. What was that? Was she being playful? Or trying to make Gabrielle’s heart stutter again, possibly stop entirely? That was the only explanation for her pressing up against Gabrielle’s back like that. Also, why was their clothing so thin?
“Breathe, Gabrielle. I thought I said to tell me if I was rubbing too hard?”
“You’re not!” Gabrielle squeaked, then coughed. “You’re not. I just, uh… had an idea.” After hearing a “Hm?” from behind, she leaned back until she felt the resistance of flesh and kept pushing until Xena was pinned between woman and wall.
“Ha. You’re my prisoner.” Gabrielle employed as much smugness as she could, even as it occurred to her this was possibly the worst way to distract Xena from her odd stiffness of a moment ago. That stiffness had come from Gabrielle’s big, stupid crush on her mentor, who was quite clear in considering Gabrielle a little sister. And who liked men. For that matter, Gabrielle liked men. She couldn’t figure out when women had started to look appealing, as well. It had definitely started with Xena, but noticing that had made her notice things about other women they met from time to time, and that sure was distracting a lot, and now she had pressed herself back into Xena’s bosom and tilted her head back to rest in the curve of her neck and shoulder. She was in so much trouble. Worse, they both new Xena would die of thirst before forcibly moving a Gabrielle with stitches all over her flank.
Then, with a lap-full of blonde and nowhere to go, Xena... yawned hugely.
Gabrielle’s ego fell through the bed, through the floor, and straight on down to Tartarus.
But Xena just slid an arm around Gabrielle’s undamaged side, absentmindedly rubbed her jaw against the younger woman’s head, and muttered, “You smell nice.”
They both froze.
“What I mean is, we’re both clean, and we’re tired, and you are warm. You’re right; I can’t move now. You’ve… done it; I’m defeated. Ha.”
“...I can’t move either.” Gabrielle let herself relax. It felt like she was curled against a lioness, a mixture of protective muscle, softness, and grace draped around her and warming her back. Peace and safety weighed down her limbs, and the scent of clean, drowsy warrior princess held her head down as heavily as chains would. She’d created worse predicaments than this. “Do you think we can just... slide until we’re sideways?”
“We’ve done things at least that hard.” Ever so carefully, Xena arranged them on their sides, still curled up to Gabrielle, who pressed back into her to mold them closer together.
It occurred to her she might be taking advantage, but it was just a cuddle… And Xena would let her know if she was being inappropriate, probably. Her own yawn was so big it shifted them both a little.
“Hey, Gabrielle. Do you… Rather, I…”
“What’s wrong, Xena?” Gabrielle punctuated with another yawn. Something in Xena’s voice begged her speculation, but now she was just so tired.
Xena sighed. “Are you… comfortable?”
Absentminded honesty mumbled forth, “‘S the most comfortable I’ve been since well before I lost that fight. We should do this more often.” Okay, she wasn’t tired enough to not realize how embarrassing that was, but there was nothing to do about it now.
A breathy chuckle preceded, “Maybe we should. Goodnight, Gabrielle.”
“‘Night.” Maybe they should? What did...eh… Gabrielle would likely spend days dissecting this in her mind. But later. Surely she’d process it better after a good sleep or three…
Endnotes:
This just sort of bubbled out of my fingers the day after I saw the episode for the first time, after a looong time of not writing fic. Little did I know how deep into Xena fandom I would get!