Someone's in the Kitchen with Hercules
by Amorette

Hercules opened the door and started to say "Honey, I'm home," then remembered that since he was to be gone all weekend at that stupid retreat, his wife had decided to go camping with some of her girlfriends. The house was empty, which did nothing to improve his already depressed mood. Sighing heavily, he wandered through the empty house, into the kitchen. Since he hadn't had anything decent to eat all day, he swung open the refrigerator door and stared inside, wondering what was still edible.

"Hey," a familiar voice exclaimed as an arm shot below his to grab a carton off the shelf. "Thai food!"

Sighing again, Hercules fished out all the take-out boxes and set them onto the kitchen counter.

"How you been, buddy?" Iolaus asked cheerfully, jumping up to sit on the counter so he could start eating immediately.

Hercules shrugged and tossed his friend a fork. Iolaus generally made one of his appearances when Hercules was feeling down so there didn't seem to be much point in explaining how the demigod was feeling. Iolaus caught the fork and started in on his meal.

Just watching his friend eat made Hercules smile. How a dead guy could have such an appetite was one of those enduring mysteries of the ages. The other mystery was who picked out his clothes. Whenever Iolaus appeared, he was always wearing clothing that was appropriate to where and when he was. Iolaus had explained long ago that when he was back for a visit, he was visible to anyone so Hercules wouldn't appear to be talking to empty air. And since he was visible, he wore clothing contemporary to the time.

For the cusp of the twenty-first century, Iolaus was wearing blue jeans, bright red sneakers and a faded, long-sleeved blue sweatshirt with the words CHRISTCHURCH SEMINARY FOOTBALL TEAM stenciled across the front. Where on earth--no, where in the realm beyond earth--had that shirt come from?

"So," said Iolaus around a mouthful of lemon basil chicken, "What's up?"

Sitting down at his kitchen table, Hercules selected a box at random and opened it. "Ares."

"You're kidding!" That got Iolaus' attention. He actually stopped shoveling food into his mouth to stare at his friend. "What does he want?"

"Merchandising rights."

Huh?" Iolaus knew what was going on in the world in general but there were some details about modern life he was hazy on.

"Nothing. Just wanted to cause trouble. It bugs him that he is seen in a bad light on the show."

Iolaus said nothing. He hated the show. When Hercules first told his friend he was going into acting, Iolaus was amused. When he told Iolaus he was trying out for the title role in a series vaguely based on his own legend, Iolaus thought it was hysterical. When he actually got the part, Iolaus had laughed so hard he started choking on the pizza he was eating and Hercules found himself wondering if he would have to perform the Heimlich on a guy who had been dead for millennium.

Iolaus thought it was a great idea, encouraging people to believe in goodness and fighting for what was right, until he saw an episode. A matter of minutes into the program, the character of Hercules had addressed the character of Iolaus.

"What was that?" Iolaus asked indignantly. Hercules knew exactly what his friend was referring to.

"Um, well, the producers decided EEE-o-lus sounded better. In English, anyway."

"Sounded better!" Iolaus had been furious. "IN ENGLISH!!!" No matter where or when they were, Iolaus always spoke in the same Greek dialect he had used in life, although he understood any language Hercules used. "What has English got to do with it? That's not how my name is pronounced."

Hercules had tried to explain. "In English, your name sounds. . .funny. Since your character is supposed to be a ladies man, the producers decided they didn't want a character who gets, well, laid a lot to be named eye-a-LAY-us."

Iolaus refused to except the explanation and had been mad at Hercules for not insisting on the correct pronunciation. They hadn't spoken for months and when Iolaus finally put in an appearance, on a cold, wet, miserable day when Hercules was desperately homesick for the sunny beaches of California where he had been making his home in this life, Iolaus had flatly refused to watch another episode and thereafter referred to the series only as "that idiot program" and the producers as "those morons."

Iolaus sniffed. "If that idiot program pissed Ares off than I guess it isn't totally worthless."

Hercules smiled and got a faint grin in return. Then he found himself frowning. "It gets worse. He put in an appearance."

"So? I thought he turned up every now and then to bug you, just the way I turn up to cheer you up."

"He turned up in front of a bunch of people." Hercules took a deep breath. "From the show."

Iolaus started to laugh. "You're joking! That must have fried those moron's little brains."

Hercules had to smile, remembering the expressions on his co-workers faces when they found themselves confronted with the actual Ares, god of war, in all his furious, if unsuccessful, glory.

"Well, yeah." He started to chuckle at the memory. "Now that you mention it."

Iolaus hopped off the counter and wandered over to sit next to Hercules, selecting another box of food as he did so. "So, where did he turn up?"

"At the corporate retreat. We were mapping out the arc for next season and he wanted to stop us, I guess. He didn't do a very good job. Ares doesn't understand how television works."

"Didn't we always used to say, 'He's the God of War, not Wisdom?'"

"Yeah. You want something to drink with that? Iced tea?"

Mouth full, Iolaus just nodded. While Hercules got their drinks, he filled his friend in on the disastrous corporate retreat his employers arranged. By the time he was finished, he was laughing himself and feeling much better, if only because the sound of Iolaus laughing, too, always cheered him up.

"So," said Iolaus, "those morons figured out there really is a Hercules but they didn't figure out it was you."

"Nope. Want some dessert? There should be fudgicles in the freezer."

"Oh, yeah." Iolaus checked out each of the cartons for any last mouthfuls that had escaped his notice. "I suppose it didn't dawn on those morons that a semi-divine, apparently immortal hero would have anything to do with that idiot program."

"Something like that." Hercules sat down again, carefully removing the wrapper from his ice cream while he decided if he should tell Iolaus about the upcoming season.

"What was this stupid retreat thing for, anyway?"

Damn. Iolaus couldn't actually read Hercules' thoughts but he could catch the drift of whatever the other man was feeling.

"Ah, we were planning the story arc for next season."

"So?"

Hercules cleared this throat, then wasted a few more seconds catching the drips off his fudgicle before saying, "We're going to kill my partner off this season."

"Again? Isn't this, what, the third time?"

"Fourth. This would be the fourth time, depending on how you count the She-Demon thing."

Iolaus shrugged. "So," he mumbled around his fudgicle, "Why should I care?"

"Well, this time we're sort of dealing with the whole 'going into the Light' theme. And we may not be bringing, ah, the character back."

Iolaus shrugged again. "Big frigging deal. The character is an idiot anyway. Can't even pronounce his own name right. So, is that merchant guy you told me about coming back as his partner?"

"Well, we're thinking about bringing in a character who looks like. . .you-know-who and has the same name and is played by the same actor but is completely different in personality."

"Can I have another one of these things?"

Hercules leaned back to open the freezer door. "Go for it." While Iolaus selected another fudgicle, Hercules finished his, carefully licking the stick clean, then his fingers, before finally saying, "My character's partner gets killed by Gilgamesh."

"Who?"

"You know, the legendary Sumerian king who. . ."

"I know the story." Iolaus snorted in disgust. "It only predates us by at least a thousand years. Hardly surprising, though. Those morons can't keep any sort of timeline straight."

"They like to use names that are familiar to the viewers. Most people have at least heard of Gilgamesh even if they have no idea about the rest. Gives the viewer an anchor, so to speak."

"Sounds like your viewers aren't much brighter than those morons."

"Hey!" Hercules decided a second fudgicle sounded like a good idea and got one himself. "I resent that! If you could see some of our so-called competition, you'd appreciate how much better our show is than some of that other crap."

"Fine." Iolaus was digging through the refrigerator, studying various packages.

"Electricity isn't free," Hercules said dryly.

With a guilty smile, Iolaus closed the door and sat down across the table from his friend again.

"So," he said, rocking back in his chair, "Gilgamesh kills your partner. Does his body get possessed by manifest evil?'

"Uh-huh."

"And then I go off into the Light after we defeat it?"

"Yup."

"But I might not get brought back."

"Yeah. Kind of depends on M. . .my co-star. The guy who plays the part." That was another name Hercules didn't mention. Iolaus has been delighted with the casting of his role until he discovered the actor playing his fictional counterpart was no more concerned about how to pronounce 'Iolaus' than the producers. Hercules also suspected a little jealously on the part of his old friend. The real Iolaus could only appear to Hercules when the demigod was alone, and then only occasionally, whereas the actor who played Iolaus could actually be a friend, although a friend who had no idea who Hercules really was. "I told the producers you lived to be a hundred years old but the series isn't a documentary."

"I noticed." Iolaus frowned briefly, then brightened. "Maybe if you do bring me back, you could pronounce my name correctly. Say he learned how while he was dead."

Solemnly, Hercules said, "I'll bring that up."

"Liar." Iolaus studied him. "Something else is on your mind. What? No problems with that gorgeous wife of yours, I hope."

"No." Hercules ran his hands through his hair in a nervous gesture he had been making for thousands of years. "My contract has less than two years to run. I'm pretty sure I don't want to keep doing it."

"Sick of working for those morons?"

"No!" Hercules voice was so sharp that Iolaus was immediately contrite. "No. They are nice people. I like all of them. I'll miss 'em but I am sick of the commute. I have spent so much time cramped in airplanes in the last five years that I swear sometimes I'll never get my knees to unbend."

Iolaus considered it. He knew his friend enjoyed playing a silly version of himself, and he knew, although he hated to admit it, that Hercules genuinely liked his co-workers, but he also knew what was in Hercules' heart.

"You want to stay home in California."

Repressing a smile at the way the name of his new home sounded when Iolaus said it, Hercules nodded. Speaking of peculiar pronunciations. . .

"Spend more time with my family and less time in airports. Exactly."

"Your co-star won't be left in a lurch." Iolaus sounded rather as if he hoped so.

"No. He wants to get into directing. Besides, he's getting older. All those fight scenes are starting to catch up with him."

"What, you're worried I want you to keep working on that idiot program!"

Hercules sighed. "I met my wife through that idiot program. I met lots of great people and made good friends through that idiot program. I'm financially secure so I don't have to worry about paying the bills when I am out of work because of that idiot program."

"And you have those neat little dolls that look like you because of that idiot program."

Both men had to laugh.

"That's what Ares wanted. Little Ares dolls that he would get a cut of the royalties."

"Speaking of idiots. . ."

They laughed again, then sat quietly smiling at each other. It was nice to have Iolaus around, thought Hercules, every now and then, even if he does eat me out of house and home.

"My agent is looking into some other series, maybe something more dramatic."

"What, having your best friend die in your arms. . .I assume those morons will get that right. . .isn't dramatic?"

"Yeah, but you didn't see the giant chicken episode."

"The what?"

"Trust me." Hercules grinned. "You do not want to know. The thing is, after five years, I have gotten to like the people and the job. When my contract runs out, I will have been playing this version of Hercules for seven years. It's gotten comfortable. I've had fun."

"Change is always scary."

"Yeah. After five thousand years, you'd think I'd be used to it."

"Some things won't change."

Hercules knew what his old, old, old friend meant. Iolaus would always be there, maybe not back to back but around, somewhere, when Hercules needed him. And there would always be evil to be fought and good to be encouraged. Life would go on.

Iolaus' head suddenly came up, like a dog hearing his master's whistle. "Shoot. Your wife is back. She's coming up the driveway."

Hercules had mixed feelings. He missed his wife but he always hated to say good-bye to Iolaus. Iolaus knew exactly what he was feeling and smiled.

"Jump her bones once for me," he said cheerfully. "I'll see you soon."

"Kevin? What are you doing here? I thought that stupid corporate retreat was supposed to last all weekend? Did you eat all this food yourself?"

"Hi, yourself," Hercules said, kissing his wife and silently promising Iolaus he do what his friend asked. "Let me tell you about that retreat. It was. . .unbelievable."

April 2000