Only moments after I'd closed my eyes, it seemed, I abruptly woke to meet the next morning.  A soft rain fell outside, pattering gently upon the terrace.  I pushed my hair back, which had fallen wildly over my face, and opened my eyes a crack to see the room was still rather dark- my guess, about a quarter past seven or so.  I felt around on either side of me and found I was alone in bed. 

For a split second I dared to wonder if I'd only dreamed last night.  But then I moved my legs a bit and winced at the sudden, stabbing ache between them.  On instinct I lifted the covers to see what was the matter, and found I was stark naked.  Memories of the night before flooded my mind, a little smile curving my lips.

We made love last night, I thought to myself, as though I still couldn't fully believe it.  Oh, my God.  I slept with him.  He slept with me.  We made love. 

I was a girl no longer.  The concept intimidated me a little.  I had never thought of myself as anything else, really.  But last night, as soon as that nightgown had fallen from my frame, and we lay down together, I stopped being a girl- a child.  In one fell swoop, Freddie had stripped me of that title and given me another. Now, I was a woman.

And then it hit me.  In quiet panic I added, So, now what?

Everything I had pushed aside last night to make room for Freddie and the endless love he brought with him, I remembered.

My first thought was of my parents, and what they would think if they, in a purely hypothetical situation, were to burst into his boudoir now to see me lying naked in Freddie's bed, or last night, to find the two of us tangled up in passion. 

Granted, neither of my parents were even out of middle school in 1977.  But still I could hear their foreboding words now, playing back in my ear as loudly as if they were speaking to me in person- the heartbroken announcement that I would have to find myself somewhere else to live.  My parents had never lied to me; I loved them, and I believed them. 

But I don't live with my parents anymore, I rationalized.  I live with Freddie.

All the same, I had given this man the very thing I swore to myself I would save until safe and sound within the bounds of marriage.  Freddie had entirely unraveled me, it seemed, my moral fabric so frayed and threadbare I scarcely recognized it as my own.  For thirteen days, now, and really even less than that, considering the first day was only a night- I had been a mystery in more ways than one. Now he knew my heart, my soul, my mind, and my body. 

Doesn't it work both ways, though?  I know his, as well.  Even after I've told Freddie everything, he's let me know him so intimately, it's wonderful.

But it was still a different dynamic.  I thought of what Mary had said to me, how Freddie adored newness. I loved him just as much as I did before I gave myself to him, perhaps even more.  But I was an opened box, a solved mystery.  Now that he had taken me, and done quite a solid job of it, would I still mean anything to him?  Would the pale light of this morning weaken the promises made in last night's sultry darkness?

I still have a way out, I reminded myself, thinking of the Relic still sitting on the counter.  There's a safety net, if it turns out that yesterday doesn't define this tomorrow.  I don't want to use it, but it's there.

So thinking, I edged out of bed.  Once I was up and walking around, I felt much better.  Freddie had indeed been kind of rough with me the second time.  Not that I was complaining.  I'd never smiled so hard as now, while I stretched my arms up over my head and walked up to Freddie's bureau to find a generic top to wear in case he should mosey back in over the next minute.

As I paraded into the hall, I heard a little soft singing coming from downstairs.  Oh, good, he didn't leave yet.  I want to see him off before he heads to Wessex. 

I paused a moment and listened, recognizing the song almost immediately.  I covered my mouth in surprise, tried not to laugh too loudly.  Never in my life did I ever expect to hear Freddie knock about the kitchen while singing his own funny version of "MMMBop."  All he could remember was the chorus, which he scatted pretty nicely: "Mmm-Bop/ bop be da, doo bop/ doo de da be dap, doo bop/ bop be da doo... yeah yeah..." 

Vaguely I was reminded of his impromptus in "Under Pressure."  Hmm, I mused facetiously.  Did Freddie influence Hanson- or did Hanson influence Freddie?

But now I too had "MMMBop" stuck in my head.  Muttering the song's bridge under my breath, I rushed into the green bedroom to dress in something at least half-decent so I could join him downstairs for tea, and make a little breakfast if he was hungry. 

I heard slow, careful footsteps tread the stairs.  I glanced behind me, waiting for him to waltz into view, but I didn't see him.  So I turned and went back to business.

Not ten seconds later, I felt spidery fingertips crawling up my back.  I whirled, and the next thing I knew, Freddie had me locked in a warm embrace I couldn't escape if I tried.  My worries wilted, and shrank down almost to nothing. 

"But, soft!" he whispered dramatically in my ear.  "What light through yonder window breaks?"  He drew back and looked into my eyes, laying a hand against my cheek.  "It is the east, and Julia is the sun.  Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon... uh..."

Freddie paused, and blinked.  "Sorry, that's all I can remember right- No, wait! Here's the rest... ah, Kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief.  Um, be not her maid, since she is envious, her vestal livery is but sick and green, and none but fools do wear it- cast it off."

I smiled, deciding I had never loved this man so much as I did now, when he was in such endearing earnest, with his cloud of dark hair still in a mess from last night, standing there fumbling through the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet.  "You had me at 'But, soft.'"

"She speaks!  Oh, speak again, bright angel! For thou art, um... Oh, f---.  I can't remember. Sorry."

I laughed.  "Freddie, that's the most Shakespeare anybody's ever quoted at me, and it was beautiful."

"Mmm.  Let's try this again, shall we?" he murmured, drawing me back towards him, this time for a kiss. 

"Good morning, my prince," I whispered.

"Hello, angel."

I rolled my eyes.  "You should know by now, I'm no angel."

Freddie shook his head.  "You're my angel, and that's enough for me."

My cheeks flushed and eyes lowered, as I wondered how I ever came to doubt him in the first place.  We're so stubborn, I thought to myself.  Why didn't we do this before?

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Mm-hm. Did you?"

As dark as it was, I saw that unmistakable gleam. "Of course, darling," he murmured. "Everything I do with you is done well."

I giggled. "How long have you been waiting to say that?"

"Too long," he smiled.

"Fair enough." I pressed my forehead to his.  "Kiss me Eskimo style, Mark."

With a soft, contented sigh, Freddie nuzzled his nose against mine, then, and just held onto me for a moment.  Before too long, he let go and lifted up the tea tray he'd set down by the door.  "I brought the tea up, so we can take it in there."

"Oh, splendid," I crooned.

"By the way, I had the most wonderful dream last night," Freddie said over his shoulder.  "I dreamed that someone who looked and sounded just like you was in my bed last night, and we ravished each other- oh."

"What?"

He nodded toward the bed, with its smushed pillows and rumpled sheets, and remarked, tongue in cheek, "I, uh, suppose I wasn't dreaming after all."

"I suppose not," I sighed, folding my arms.

"Good."  Freddie slipped off the robe and climbed back on top of the bed.  He was shirtless, and that was about it.  I was half-disappointed, but I knew better than to say so as I settled back in beside him.  I had learned my lesson well: any kind of encouragement in that area, and I would be flat on my back in seconds.  It was open season now.

Since we considered seven to still be rather early, we spent a little time snuggled up together in bed, chatting and drinking our tea.  Three and a half hours of sleep likely didn't do much to balance out nearly two whole days going without it, yet Freddie was the one who saw to it that neither of us drifted away again.  But honestly, I didn't mind one bit.  He was being far too cute for me to care.  With a few exceptions (i.e. Freddie's side lamentation that he'd only finished two songs for the album so far), we didn't really say anything that contributes anything to the story, we were so goofy and only seemed to egg each other on, ultimately sounding like two smitten, adolescent idiots.

"Guess what," he would whisper.

"What?"

"Guess."

"What am I guessing?"

"Just guess."

"Okay... uh... can I have a hint?"

"No hints."

"You're not very helpful."

"So do you give up?"

I laughed. "Yes."

"I love you."

"You do?"

"Like crazy."

"I love you, too."

"How much?"

"To Andromeda and back."

"Don't you want to know how much I love you?"

"Tell me."

"To Andromeda and back, twice."

"Copycat."

"No, you're the copycat."

"But I said it first!"

"That doesn't matter."

"Oh, you drive me nuts, you know that?"

"Mmm.  I do love it when you talk dirty to me..."

Things like that.  But Freddie did mention one thing I thought was crucial: Bob was apparently a photographer with some magazine, and the pictures he had taken last night were to find their way into the tabloids in one way or another. Thank God, he didn't take any of me. All over the Internet (eventually) is the last thing I want to be.

And then I remembered again, that as long as I was here, fulfilling my role as a real life Forrest Gump, living with a very famous rock star who was about to get a whole lot more recognizable in the States (especially after News of the World was released), I was taking that risk of being captured by a journalist or a photographer and then forever attached to Freddie.  I had been swimming in dangerous waters merely by standing too close to him in public; now that we were sleeping together, I may as well have taped a bright red sign to my chest with an arrow pointing up and big bold letters across the front saying "FOR SALE TO HIGHEST BIDDER: THIS BIG JUICY PIECE OF GOSSIP."

What was more, I had had no place in the conga line of lovers before last night, and there was no place in Freddie's life for me before I stumbled into it two weeks ago. There was no telling what this did to the course of my own life, let alone his- and those of Joe, David, Mary, etc.  No doubt, the future had altered.  Freddie had never had a lover named Julia, or Eve- or Angel, for that matter.  (Now, he did call Minsy a "cherub," but that's another story...)  What had this done to the world I knew? 

"There's that faraway look again," Freddie noted.  "Why so preoccupied, dear?"

"I was just thinking," I said.  "About the future."

"Whose?  Yours or mine?"

"Just the broad idea- the Future, in general."

He put his arm around my shoulders.  "Go on."

"Well, I mean- I wasn't a part of your world before, and... I am now."

"Yes, you are," he cooed.  "Isn't it grand?"

"It's stupendous," I replied.  "Thing is... everything's probably so different now."

"Different from what?" Freddie said.  "The way it used to be?"

I nodded.

He chewed on that, and shrugged.  "So?"

"So, the world I came from before- it's changed so much.  The Butterfly Effect, don't you know.  Go back and change one action in one person's life- say one word less, or one word more, in a single moment- and you change the world forever."

Freddie looked at me.  "My dear, you make it sound like that's a bad thing."

"It could be."

"Can you honestly tell me, Julia, that a little bit of a change in the world would hurt?  F--- it, what if this was the way it was meant to be from the very start? Did you ever think of that?"

I opened my mouth, but I couldn't argue with that.  He was right.  Why did it have to be a bad thing?  Up till now, nothing seemed to have really changed.  Even after Freddie somehow quietly chartered the Starship, and we almost went down in it, not a single piece of musical history (that I had stored on my phone, anyway) had altered.  Perhaps Freddie reading my journal, or me finally giving in to him, had put the final death nail into my world's coffin.  Or perhaps not.  Either way, maybe, just maybe, that wasn't necessarily so horrible.

"You believe in Fate, too, eh?" I asked. 

"I believe things happen for a reason, so I, um- you could say that.  Made in heaven, perhaps.  I don't know.  I'm sure you're much more well-versed on the divine side of things."

I rested my head on his shoulder.  "I love the way you think, Freddie."

He smiled.  "Give us a kiss."

"What kind?"

"This kind."  Placing his hands on either side of my face, Freddie drew me towards him and pressed his lips to mine.  What could I do but put my arms around him and let it happen. 

Oh, those kisses.  Each one was different, yet each one was perfect. The irony, the irony.  Love, I had, and so much of it- and hope for the future, a new future perhaps, for us both.  But I was not strong.  Of all the things I had to be lacking in, why did it have to be strength- or, to put it another way, why did it have to be faith?

He pulled back just a bit, and whispered, "You know, I could get used to this."

"Used to what?"

"You and me.  I'm rather liking the act myself."

"The trapeze?"

"Mmm."  The look in his eyes changed.

"So are you off to Wessex again today?" I touched his face.

"Always," he muttered, pushing his face against my hand. I loved it when he did that. Freddie was such a tactile person. He so needed to touch, and be touched- that constant affirmation...

"Oh, speaking of which. When are you guys going to record 'We Are the Champions'?"

"Very soon," Freddie whispered, pausing to swallow hard. "A... few days, maybe..."

"I'd like to watch that," I mused. "If I didn't get in the way, of course."

"You wouldn't..." he trailed off. His left arm fit around my waist, and he pulled me closer. His temperature rose, his breathing deepened.

I felt his right hand slide away from my face and press against my breast.  I blinked, knowing exactly where this was going.  My heart pounded with anticipation.  The man's a machine.  But I also wanted to make him wait for it- heighten the desire, as it were, for a later time.  So I scooted away from him, my brow arching ever so slightly.

"Are you finished with the tea?" I asked.  "I'll take it downstairs if so."

I started to slide my feet to the floor when Freddie put his hand on my bare thigh.  "What's the hurry?" he murmured.

"No hurry," I replied softly.  "It's just, the room's a mess all by itself.  Get this tray out of the way, you know..."

He had to be able to feel me getting warmer.  "Do you have to?  Right this instant?"

With a little grin, I peeled his fingers off my leg.  "I'll be right back."

"Oh, f---ing let me do it, if it's so important," he said.  "I know you, you'll take forever and a day to just set the tray down."

"Freddie," I pouted.  "That is not so-"

"You know it's true, you dreadful tease," he hissed.  "Give it here."  So saying, he hopped off the bed, with the tray in his hands.  Just before he stepped out of view, I wolf-whistled.

Freddie whirled, forehead furrowed in surprise.

I just smiled and folded my arms, my eyes taking their time in sizing him up.  "Oh, yes," I decided. "Quite fine, indeed."

His jaw clenched as he instructed me, "Don't.  Move."  And he disappeared with the tray.

Freddie had said to stay where I was.  So, naturally, I leapt off the bed and darted into the bathroom.  I needed to get cleaned up anyway. 

I closed the door but didn't lock it, and ripped off Freddie's shirt.  Stepping into the shower stall, I twisted the knob and let the warm water gush down over my head.  We both needed to exercise a little self-control anyhow.  As much as I loved him, as crazy as he made me (in more ways than one), I needed to rein myself in, even if just a slight bit.  From a practical standpoint, we couldn't go on making love so freely anyway, not when one considered what might result from continuous unprotected sex.

Suddenly the door burst open, and there he stood, as bare as the day he was born.  I could feel the slow caress of his gaze as he took me all in.  Uh-oh, I'm toast. 

"I thought I said, don't move," he whispered.

I smiled.  "You did."

Before I knew what was happening Freddie jumped into the shower with me and pinned me against the tile wall, his hands moving in, snaking all over, entwining in my long, streaming hair.

"When will you learn, my dear?" he heaved between kisses as the water poured over him, drenching his hair and clearly excited body.

I swept his dark, wet bangs off his forehead, revealing that subtle widow's peak.  "Who wants to know?"

"Oh, that game is so old, darling," he whispered.  "I much prefer this one.  Don't you?"

I wrapped my arms around him.  "Freddie, you are incorrigible." 

That was the last intelligent thing I said for the next hour.