JUST MY TYPE
By Rogue
e-mail:[email protected]

Legal Disclaimer:The characters Xena and Gabrielle are the property of MCA/Universal Television. And I thank Gabrielle for talking Xena into taking part in my story.

Subtext: This story is a subtext story, but there is nothing explicit.

A storm raged outside the tavern as one raged inside one of its patrons. Seated at the rear of the tavern with her back to the wall, Xena sat scanning the crowd. She was hoping to find someone to spend the rest of her evening with, but so far the ones that seemed to have potential were already taken.

The one person she was most interested in being with, was standing on a small stage telling stories. But the warrior hadn't been able to bring herself to tell Gabrielle how she felt. Xena was afraid that the bard would be upset and probably leave her. So instead the warrior kept her feelings to herself.

-------------------

Up on the stage, Gabrielle had followed her friend's looks around the tavern. She knew what Xena was up to and hoped that the warrior wouldn't find anyone to interest her. The bard had decided that she was tired of waiting for Xena to admit her feelings. She planned on trying to talk to the warrior once they returned to their room. She just wasn't sure yet how she would bring the topic up.

Realizing that only a few people were actually paying attention to her story, Gabrielle decided that this one would be her last for the night. She wrapped it up and thanked those who were still listening as she left the stage. The bard made her way through the crowd to where Xena was waiting.

"Xe..nah." said the man, his voice slurred by the alcohol he had consumed. "Want to join me for some fun?"

"No thanks." the warrior replied evenly as she rose to meet Gabrielle. "You're not my type."

The two women headed for the stairs, but the man persisted. "Come on, Xena. The three of us...oof." He never finished his thought as the warrior's right elbow connected solidly with his stomach.

"I told you," Xena said in a more menacing tone. "You're not my type."

"Mine either." added the bard as they continued up the stairs to their room. Wait. That's it. That's perfect. Get her to tell me what her type is...and maybe tell her what my type is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~--

Well here goes nothing, thought Gabrielle as she began to get ready for bed. She looked over to her friend who was removing her armor. "Xena."

"Yeah."

"I've heard you tell a lot of different men that they aren't your type."

"Uh-huh"

"Well...I was just wondering...what is your type?"

Xena looked at her, eyebrow raised.

Gabrielle's nervousness grew, "Uh...not that it's any of my business. I was just curious that's all." She turned away from the warrior.

Both women remained silent for a long time. Finally the bard's bravery returned. "My type is about six feet tall, with long dark hair and piercing blue eyes. They're brave in strong when fighting for the greater good. And gentle and caring when taking care of the sick or injured."

Gabrielle was about to climb into bed when she felt Xena's arms go around her.

"You want to know what my type is? She's about half a foot shorter than me, with red golden hair that reminds me of the sun as it sets in the evening. Her eyes are soft green, kind of like the color of the sea. She's also brave when she stands up for what she believes in, as well as compassionate when tending to others injuries."

The bard turned around to face her. "I'm really your type?"

The warrior leaned down and kissed her tenderly. "Most definitely."