In Egypt, the emperor sleeps poorly.

"You have hairier feet than a satyr."

"Don't be an idiot, Achilles, they've got hooves."

"Hairier than a satyr's ass, then. And they stink."

The prince has an admirer, and Horatio has a problem.

Some guys just can't resist doing a comrade a favor.

They look alike.

Too late for Christmas, too early for the new year. (Or, Hal makes himself inconvenient in as many ways as possible.)

How many nights has he entertained this very vision of Tang Fan, all lean long lines and li after li of smooth skin? Most, in some shape or another, since Tang Fan first stormed into his life and made his home in what wreckage he found there. Too many, but so few. To have it now, real enough to see, too far from reach to touch— it’s agony.

Jack gets sick. Phryne puts him in her bed.

He has never taken a disciple before this one, that is true, but Yin Chen has long been enlightened as to what such an arrangement entails.

Luke and Leia have been keeping secrets, but not from each other.