A Day (and Two Nights) in the Life
Copyright (c) 1998
by atara
This vignette is sort of the backstage version of the events in "A Day in
the Life," one of my all-time favorite Xena eps. There *had* to be a good
reason for why Xena and Gabrielle were so twitchy with each other all day.
:-) This story assumes erotic desire between two women, so if that sort of
thing isn't your cup of tea, don't drink it. It's rated R. The characters
and some of the situations described are the property and creations of
MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. I'm just taking them out to play
with for a while, but I promise I'll put them right back when I'm done. No
infringement of copyright is intended, and I'm certainly not making a
financial profit. Please check with me before archiving or distributing.
"Oh yes," sighed Gabrielle. "That feels so good." She took another swig
of wine, as Xena's fingers began drifting down her arms, stroking them
lightly and maddeningly.
Her head beginning to swim slightly, Xena revelled in the feel of the
smooth flesh beneath her fingers, cooled by the night air. Her fingers
were tingling with desire, as she urgently wanted to shift her attention to
Gabrielle's breasts. A knot of anxiety suddenly twisted in Xena's stomach.
This was wrong. Gabrielle was probably still in mourning for Perdicus,
the thought of whom inevitably spent spasms of guilt through Xena. They
were both slightly drunk, but Xena knew it would be inappropriate for her
to take advantage of her friend. *Some friend I am* thought Xena.
*Exercise a little self-control, girl.*
She moved her hands back up to Gabrielle's shoulders, giving them another
quick massage. Then she yawned deliberately, as a prelude to saying,
"Well, we'd better get some sleep."
*Huh?!* thought Gabrielle. *What gives? One minute she's making a pass at
me, and the next she wants to sleep!* "Sleep?" asked Gabrielle flatly, the
irritation evident in the edge in her voice.
"Sleep," agreed Xena firmly, thinking, *Maybe she *does* want this. No,
down girl. The last thing Gabrielle needs is *that* kind of relationship
with *you*.*
"Sleep," repeated Gabrielle, thinking *What-*ev*-er . . . .* She pointedly
moved her blanket a distance from Xena's. Both took a long time falling
asleep, Gabrielle confused by Xena's mixed signals, and Xena confused about
whether she'd done the right thing.
The next morning allowed no time for talking. Xena was awakened by a sword
pointing at her throat. She clapped her hands onto it, and leapt into
battle with a group of armed warriors. Snatching the nearest weapons that
came to hand, she began battering her enemies with cookware, pouring all
her sexual frustration into a thorough enjoyment of the fight. She had to
wake Gabrielle quick, and leapt onto the water skin, spraying Gabrielle's
face, grinning and winking broadly as she wielded her culinary weapons.
Once the battle, as much as it was one, was over, Gabrielle boiled over in
fury at Xena's ruining of their only frying pan. She was still angry about
last night, and slightly hungover. Her angry retort, "Can we *cook* with
your juices?" was as much a reference to her own frustration as it was to
the frying pan.
Their frustration spilled over all day into irritation with one another, an
irritation they tried to veil under pointed teasing. It didn't work very
well. Gabrielle channeled her feelings into an intense competitiveness
with Xena, trying to surprise her with a whack of her staff and burning to
win their usual guessing game with which they passed the time. Xena
responded with her own feeling of competitiveness. When Gabrielle
insisted, "I got *this* close," Xena turned and purred in a devastatingly
biting tone, "You got this close because I *let* you get this close." That
voice of Xena's sent an irresistable thrill to Gabrielle's groin, which
frustrated her more than ever. When Xena yanked on her bodice to pull her
away from the misleading direction sign she had made, she fumed even more.
Xena had a childish desire to get back at Gabrielle for leaving her
frustrated, even as she knew it wasn't Gabrielle's fault, surreptitiously
tearing off a piece of her prized scrolls to use for some personal business
and deliberately throwing raw fish at her, right out of the stream.
Gabrielle later got her revenge by trading Xena's whip for a frying pan.
The temptation of a hot bath was too much to resist however. Xena and
Gabrielle had bathed together before, but hot water was a rare lurxury.
Xena remained firmly businesslike, though, as they washed each other's
hair. The feel of the sponge being stroked down her back, as she sat naked
between Gabrielle's thighs was a delicious frustration. She longed for
Gabrielle's hands to slide around her and cup her slippery breasts. It was
not to be. When it was her turn to help wash her friend, she scrubbed at
her ears roughly, trying to treat Gabrielle as a difficult child, not the
object of her raging desire, a desire the hot water only exacerbated. She
wished she could pull Gabrielle back, so she was pressed against her aching
groin, and desperately wanted to slide her hands all over Gabrielle's wet
skin, roaming around her breasts and exploring the topography of
Gabrielle's lower body.
Gabrielle had also found the bath equally excruciating, as pressure mounted
between her legs, a pressure she hoped Xena was also feeling. The
interruptions by Minya, the problem of the giant, and the annoyance of
Hower's crush on Xena all served to force desire into the background.
Still frustrated, Gabrielle continued her efforts to get Xena with her
staff, just one good whack to release tension, and just as tenaciously Xena
thwarted her.
It was a long day. Gabrielle finally got in her whack, right to Xena's
nose, as they settled down for the night, and just as irritatingly had
leaned over and kissed Xena on the cheek. "Hey!" snapped Xena grumpily and
insisted they go to sleep. Gabrielle smiled to herself. Even while
arguing that Xena had let her hit her because she felt sorry for her, she
knew that light kiss would be sufficient revenge to make up for her
frustration the night before. It turned out to be a long night as well.
The End--I'll leave it up to your imaginations what did or didn't happen
next . . .