The following is a bit of alternative fiction based on certain characters from the Xenaverse. It is not meant to infringe on anyone else's rights. If you don't agree or disapprove, please go read something else.
Xex Alert: Definitely. A bit light, but not too light, but kind of straight. Kind of. Turn your head if you must.
Joxer Alert: This is Joxer heavy episode, kind of. It's more a Meg and Toris, but since Joxer is there I thought I would warn the Joxer Allergic so they can skip ahead.
Meg thought of herself as a strong woman. After all, she had survived the streets on her own for a very long time. But a part of her wept, though she was dry eyed. She knew that because of prompt attention Joxer's injury was not deadly, but it didn't make it any less serious. He shouldn't have been hurt in the first place. She thought of the bastard who wounded Joxer and held back the growl of fury that threatened to overtake her. She clenched her hand in a fist and held it against Toris' warm chest.
Toris held her tightly, but not too firmly, his own face grim. They waited outside the healers' hut, along with everyone else whose loved one had gotten smacked, jabbed or mauled during the competition. Toris whispered soothingly into her ear and stroked her back comfortingly. He closed his own eyes against the rage that threatened to consume him. His sister wasn't the only one with a temper. It was lucky the Amazons had Maphaus jailed or very likely Toris would have finished what Xena started. It was good to have Meg so close. She gave him a reason not to go barreling to the jail creating havoc and something useful to do while they waited on the healer.
One of the healers, a local, called them in next. His voice was reassuring. "He'll be fine," he said as he led them to the wounded man. Joxer smiled, though his face was etched with pain. His shoulder was wrapped securely and his arm was in a sling. He gave a weak wave with his free hand. The adventurer hadn't complained once during the procedure, which the healers hand appreciated, though he had cried out at the worst parts. The healer continued, "We'd rather not move him, but we have to. There are too many others and the hut is getting crowded. If you could take him back to his room," he started.
"He's coming with me," Toris interrupted decisively as he released Meg gently and then wrapped his arm around Joxer to help the man down from the table. Toris' gaze fell on Meg who looked like she felt a little displaced, "Come Meg, let's take him home." Meg's heart lurched at Toris' tone of voice. There was something hovering in the way he said those words, that sent her mind reeling, but she nodded as firmly as he spoke and made the first move towards the door of the hut.
Meg sat on the side of the bed, holding Joxer's free hand and speaking quietly. "It's my turn at the fires, else I'd stay." She wanted to stay, very badly. The thought of leaving him any time soon put a tug in her heart. Joxer smiled wanly.
"It's okay Meg, I'm just glad that you're not mad at me any more."
Meg smiled, "It's hard to stay mad at you Joxer. It always has been." She looked at his long face and caressed his chin. Then she gave him a light kiss. "I'd better go."
The door clicked shut, startling them both. Toris voice was a discreet rumble, "I talked with the head cook. You can stay if you like." Blue eyes met blue eyes for long seconds. Meg nodded.
"I would like that." she breathed.
Toris' solemn expression softened. Then he walked further into his room and laid several items, including Joxer' sword, neatly on top of the dresser. "Joxer, I've moved your stuff. I hope you don't mind." He said carefully.
Joxer spoke, his words sounding loud in his ears. "I don't mind." Toris and Meg jumped a little, "And you don't have to keep whispering." He nodded at his shoulder, "I was hurt in the shoulder, not my head." Xena's brother and look-a-like stared at Joxer. Then Meg started grinning.
"All right then," she said at her normal tone of voice, "remember you asked for it." Joxer grinned. Toris laughed.
It was the most natural thing in the world. Toris had stepped out for a moment to check on his sister. He came back, knowing the outrageous outcome of the race and that Xena was okay, if a little sore, to find Meg curled up against Joxer, her face resting on his chest, her eyes closed, her breathing deep and even. Both of them were asleep. Watching them tapped something responsive in Toris. He found himself climbing onto the bed himself, laying on his side by Meg, his chest pressed against her back so as to avoid hurting Joxer (it would have been hurtful if he had tried laying on the other side of the man), wrapping a strong arm up around the woman's waist and laying a flat palm on Joxer's firm abdomen. It was almost no time before his own eyes closed to their even breathing and he soon joined them in slumber.
Meg's awoke to warmth on her back and warmth on her front. She had a funny sense of deja vu, because she'd been in like circumstances before, though not so pleasant or welcome. Okay, maybe very pleasant and welcome. She couldn't claim in anyway to be a virgin spinster. But this was a different circumstance. She knew she had to do some quick decision making. She also knew that neither individual was awake, though one was aroused.
"Toris!" she whispered. The man mumbled and cuddled closer. Meg pursed her lips and then tried again. She moved her hand and patted his backside, "Toris!" Now his face was in her hair and she had now doubt of what his body wanted. She rolled her eyes and thought. She didn't want to wake Joxer unnecessarily and she didn't want to make a big deal out of this. She decided that maybe by turning around it would make Toris do the same.
It didn't.
But now Toris' eyes were wide open. He started to pull back, embarrassed. "Meg," he began in chagrined apology. That made her decision for her. He knew who she was, even half asleep. Her mouth found his before he could utter another word and she rolled him over, intending to put him flat on his back. They fell off the bed in a noisy lump.
They looked at each other in shocked surprise and then Meg did a quick look see, raising her tousled head above the bed. Joxer was still asleep. She leaned back down, her hips straddling his waist and grinned at an abashed, but not too much so, Toris. She let her hands caress his chest as her lips made electric contact with his again. Then she sat up, grabbed the hem of her blouse and lifted it over her head in one easy, seductive motion.
Her smile was dazzling. Toris stared at her in awe. His wide hands moved up to cup her warm full breasts. "Meg," he whispered worshipfully, "you are beautiful." He waited, not knowing quite what to do, yet knowing it couldn't be much different than what he already knew. But he was aware that each experience was unique. And he'd never been with a woman before for reasons too subtle for him to understand or even want to think about hard. He bit his lip and looked at Meg hesitantly, wondering that it should be this woman who could lay claim to him, just as Joxer had. Meg's pale blue eye's widened in acute understanding. She cast one more look at the wounded soul sleeping blissfully, the pain fading from his face, then she looked back down. "Here," she spoke compassionately as she guided Toris' hands, "let me show you."
Joxer awoke to the warm leggy embrace of a tranquil-eyed Meg who was being cuddled from behind by a serene Toris, both of whom were wearing a whole lot of nothing and smelled remarkably like each other. He couldn't help grinning, despite the pain of his shoulder. Cherise had been right. He was a very lucky man.