Julia

Modo 1's timing was impeccable.

At five-thirty sharp, the crow of a rooster shot into my brain, followed by a sizable horn section blaring and the Beatles yelling "Good Morning, Good Morning" against my right eardrum.  (How's that for an effective alarm?)  Savagely I yanked the earbud out of my head and almost tossed it back toward the Modo.

"Modo, snooze!" I hissed.  The tinny hum of music stopped wafting from the buds, and all was still again.

Then I blinked, looked down at myself- and for a split second I actually wondered why I was contorted into a fetal position here in my big fuzzy papasan, and not tucked up between the bed sheets where I belonged.  But then I remembered.

Oh, yes.  Because the prima donna is sleeping in my bed.

I sat up and peered against the darkness.  Yup, he was still there, one arm laying limply over his face.  At least he looked comfortable.  I could hardly say the same for myself; I had a crick in my neck and my knees were a little stiff from being tucked up and still for so long.  With a wince, I rolled my head around against my shoulders and stretched, automatically pulling the buds out of Modo's headphone jack. 

Tonight, it is back to the sofa for me.  I don't care what he says.  Papasans are for afternoon loafing, not a good night's rest.

Fighting the urge to turn on the lights, I felt my way to the closet, slipped on my robe, and quietly closed the door to the bathroom.  I pulled my tousled hair back out of my drowsy eyes, washed my face, brushed my teeth, put in my contacts, swallowed my now ultra-necessary reinforcements, did a couple of other things, then tiptoed out of my bedroom and went downstairs.  As always, I smiled at the as yet-undecorated Christmas tree standing by my late grandfather's upright piano, but I didn't feel like listening to Yuletide carols just yet today; I put Yellow Submarine on the turntable and made sure it was connected via Bluetooth to Modo 2's speaker.  I suppose that was close enough, right?

"We all live in a yellow submarine," I sang under my breath so as not to wake any of the three boys, bouncing up the steps to the rhythm.  Perfect music by which I could start a pot of coffee, make Danny's school lunch, and get set for another day. 

By the time "All Together Now" started playing, Danny's lunch was packed and the coffee was ready.  I pulled out my daily cigarette and stuck it between my fingers.  I licked my lips in anticipation; the patches might have assuaged my nicotine need under normal circumstances, but not now.  Though I had gotten myself down to three cigarettes a week, each morning to follow would begin with a long sip of Joe and a long drag off a Marlboro.  Freddie was enough to drive anyone a little further into their addictions.

But I digress.

So, shutting my eyes, I raised my painted owl mug to my lips and drank.  Certainly tasted nice and strong today, which was just how I wanted it.  Then, my eyes still closed, I stuck the cigarette between my teeth, lit the end, and breathed the filtered, carcinogenic tobacco smoke right into my lungs-

"Good morning!"

The voice startled me so much I choked mid-inhale. 

I started hacking, bending over from the force of each cough, and nearly spilled hot coffee all over the floor.  I fumbled around for some water, but I couldn't stop coughing long enough to get a glass out of the cupboard.  Freddie acted fast. He took the mug and cigarette out of my hands.

"How long did you say you've been smoking?" he quipped, sticking the cigarette in his own mouth.

"Oh, y- you [cough] did [cough cough] did that on p-" I swallowed, and spat the last word out, "PUR-POSE!"

He ran a glass under the tap.  "You think I'm that sort of person?"

"Yes," I croaked. 

"Mm, whatever," he chuckled softly, handing me the glass of water.  "Here.  This'll help."

After a few gulps, my agitated throat settled down again.  Freddie quietly rubbed a circle into my back, waiting for me to get myself under control.  Suddenly I remembered how he did that to comfort me all those years ago, the minute I discovered I had "lost" my ticket back to 2017. 

On reflex I held tightly onto the counter.  Ah, here those memories came- and close behind them, like always, the darkness.  I could already feel it coming.  It was too early for this.  I had just awakened, and furthermore, my reinforcements hadn't kicked in yet, so I was practically defenseless against my feelings at least for the next twenty minutes. 

But then again, I was stronger than I had been in the old days.  My will alone could stay steely at least for a solid half-hour if necessary. 

So, twenty minutes?  Piece of cake.

But then I opened my eyes and looked at him. 

Freddie had obviously just rolled out of bed, because his soft hair stuck out in funny directions in the back and he squinted against the kitchen lights.  He had found and was wearing my heavy maroon robe that had always been too big for me but suited him quite well.  And although he had complained several times the day before about how cold it was outside, the chest under the robe was bare, a bit of black fuzz showing underneath.  For someone with as crazy a lifestyle as his, Time had been exceptionally good to him; take away the mustache, lengthen his hair a bit, and except for a couple of deepened lines about the mouth and forehead, he would have looked exactly as he did in 1977. 

"Better?" he asked, cracking a little smile.

I blinked.  God, he was pretty.  Freddie had been so rude and so moody, so quick to fly off the handle yesterday, and he had the gall to stand there now and smile while my essential defenses took their time sinking in and all I could think about was that he still looked so pretty. 

Shields up, Scotty.

I took a deep breath and nodded.  "Yes, thank you,"  I murmured, plucking the cigarette from between his teeth and putting it back between mine. I took another drag, this time more successfully, blowing out the smoke instead of coughing it out before I added, "Much better."

I made up my mind to tread especially carefully this morning, considering how volatile he had been the day before.  I didn't have the backbone to deal with that yet anyhow.

"You're up awfully early," I remarked, turning on my phone.  "I didn't wake you, did I?"

Freddie shook his head.  "No, no, but um, that little thing in there, whatever it's called, it, um-"

"Oh, no, did Modo go off again? Oh!"  I hit my hand against my head.  "Doy.  I forgot.  I said 'snooze,' not 'shut up.'"

"That's funny, I told it to shut up several times, but it just kept on with the 'Good Morning, Good Morning'-"

"Did you say 'Hey, Modo, shut up'?"

"No, I said something like, 'F--- off, you annoying little piece of shit,'" he laughed, covering his teeth.

Somebody's chipper this morning.   He must have had a nice romantic dream about a certain Mr. Hutton, I said dryly to myself once I too stopped laughing; his was, after all, ever so contagious.  Hey, whatever it takes.  As long as he's not in another mood, I'm happy.

"No, what you have to do is, actually preface every command with a 'Hey, Modo,' to get it to start listening, and then say what you want Modo to do," I explained with one last little squeak of a cough.  "Otherwise you just look like some crazy buffoon talking to yourself."

Freddie frowned.  "Odd.  It worked before."

"Hm?"

"Yesterday, I asked what time it was without saying that, and it told me."

I shrugged, not really reading too much into it.  "Maybe that's an exception or something-"

"Wait a minute," Freddie interrupted.  "You- Did you go into that room and set the alarm for me?"

"No, that was for me, I always wake up at f-" I cut myself off, realizing what he was asking.

He blinked.  "So... am I to understand, that, you actually did sleep with me last night and I just didn't-"

"Oh, no.  See, that's not what you said.  You weren't specific.  You said, 'You are sleeping in your room tonight, no questions asked.' You didn't say anything about the bed, you said 'your room,' which leaves a lot to interpretation.  So I slept in the papasan." 

"You really didn't have to do that," Freddie said quietly. 

"Oh, but I did," I replied, rubbing my neck and grinning.  "It seemed more sensible to do as you said; I didn't want to incur any more wrath than I already had, you see."

Freddie didn't answer, instead just kind of looked at his feet.

I cleared my throat and shrugged.  "So if you want to go back to bed, be my guest, I didn't mean to wake you up this early, and I am sorry.  But if not, there's coffee if you want it, or I can make you a cup of tea; the morning is your oyster, my friend."

I took another sip of coffee, waiting for his reply, but he remained silent.  My eyes drifted down to his hand to see its fingers tapping quietly against the counter- which by now I knew was not a good sign. 

I tried not to show how uncomfortable these sudden mood swings made me feel.  I turned around and increased Modo's volume just a bit; "Hey Bulldog" was beginning, and I loved that song to death.

"I'll make you some tea," I announced.  "You don't have to drink it, but at least it'll be there-"

"How do you turn the music off on this thing?" he asked suddenly, voice strained.

Aw, geez.  What did I do now?

"Modo, mute."

In a flash, John Lennon stopped singing.  Setting my cigarette down in the ashtray, I turned back around and said as lightly as I could, "This better be important, I'm missing the best song on the album."

He took my hands in his after a moment, his eyes still focused on the floor.  "I think I ought to apologize for the way I acted yesterday."

I cocked my head.  "There's no need-"

"Yes, there is," he cut me off.  "I was ungrateful to say the least, and- you didn't do anything to deserve that."

At last Freddie met my gaze, his eyes studying my face so meticulously I found myself wishing I was already wearing my makeup.  How bland I must look to him, I thought to myself suddenly, stomach wrenching. How ugly. All the beautiful people in his fast-paced world, all the beautiful places he went, all the glitz and glamour he considered the norm in his rock star world- just thinking about it compared to what I had to give made me feel so inadequate.

Freddie seemed to pull me closer to him.  "Won't you at least just say you accept my apology, dear, even if you don't?"

I blinked, remembering to smile.  "Of course I do, silly."

His eyes seemed to sparkle a little at that.  "So- can we start over, then, pretend yesterday didn't happen?"

I shrugged.  "If that's what you want to do."

Freddie rolled his eyes and huffed, letting go of me.  "Good Lord."

I frowned.  "What?  What now?" This guy, I swear; I'm too out of practice.

"My God!" he cried. "Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

"Being so - so f---ing accommodating!"

"Stop being accommodating?" I repeated, brows knitting. "Did I hear that right?"

"You did," he said defiantly. "And I mean it with all my heart. I behaved very badly towards you, I've acknowledged that and I do ask that you forgive me- but please don't keep treating me like this, it's going to be so boring if this is the way we'll sort of be interacting for a whole week."

I didn't answer him. Instead I just came straight to the point. "Look. All I want is, for however long you're here, to make this experience as painless as possible. So I can't understand why you would actually say to-"

"You know what I mean," he said a tad impatiently. "I didn't ask you to turn into a f---ing shrink, I'm not laying on the couch or anything, and I'm not one of your, um- I mean, I just- want you to talk like yourself. The way you used to."

"Used to?"

"Mm. The way you started to, last night, before things got, you know, unpleasant..." he trailed off.

I sighed, resting my hand on his shoulder. "I'm really not trying to make things unpleasant for you, Freddie. Neither of us were expecting this, and considering it's been as long as it has, since we've- um, been around each other, it's going to be a little weird for a while.  And anyway, you-"

I stopped in my tracks.  The look on his face warned me not to go on, he knew what I was starting to say- that is, "You will not be here long."  But I'd learned my lesson last night; I clammed up.

"Do you want a hug?" I whispered suddenly.  Why, I don't know; I guess I just thought he needed one. 

He looked down.  "Only if you promise me that from now on, you forget who or what I am now, whatever the f--- that means- and just be yourself."

I half-smiled.  "You saw how I am with Danny.  Are you sure about that?"

"I'm tougher than I look, my dear.  I can take it."

"I'll be myself if you'll be yourself.  Deal?"

He shrugged.  "If you think you can take on the real me... then let's do it."

"Excellent." I put out my hand.

Freddie looked up, arching his brow.  "Didn't you promise me a hug?" he asked.

My half-smile became a whole one.  "Uh... Who wants to know?"

His eyes widened- and, for the first time since he had awakened, they gleamed.  

"Get over here."  

Before he even finished speaking he was holding me close against him. I shut my eyes, feeling my heart beat just a little faster the longer I stood there wrapped in his arms.  Very slowly, I too reached up and held on, carefully at first, but his enthusiasm was catching; seconds later I pressed my face into his neck, clinging tightly to him as though he would slip through my grasp should I relax in the slightest.  

Ten whole years.

"Would you like that tea now?" I asked, pulling back.

"Actually, I'd rather have some coffee," he said.  

I blinked.  "Who are you, and what have you done with Freddie?"

He laughed.  "Well, you know, when in Rome..."

"It's kinda strong this morning," I warned him.  

"Perfect.  I'll take it black.  And, uh, where are the ciggies again?"

I snatched up his mug, then did a double take.  "Ciggies?"

"Hm?"

"Did you say, ciggies?" I chortled.

He blushed and waved his hands.  "Oh, get off.  It's better than some words."

So I poured him his black coffee while he lit another cigarette, and we had a playful little toast.  "To the world of tomorrow," I said dramatically.

"Mm, I like this better," he murmured after the first sip. "Don't you?"

"Not bad," I conceded cheekily. "Did you miss me?"

Freddie didn't answer right away, and just looked at me.  We stood there quietly for a few seconds while we studied each other's expressions. I don't know what we were looking for, but we were searching just the same. His eyes were so dark and deep I was afraid of falling into them- so afraid, in fact, that my knees started to weaken. I'd never had that problem with Stuart's frank, candid blue ones.

 "Darling, the real question is," he said softly, "did you miss me?"

Then, briefly, his eyes darted to my lips- and I felt myself stiffen.  Stuart would not like where this was going.  Dammit, when were those reinforcements of mine going to take effect?

Jim, Freddie!  Mary!  Whoever it takes!  I know this is mostly in fun, but don't forget.  I'm spoken for, and so are you,  I told him silently.  I tried to turn away but he was moving in too fast.  The dark eyes fluttered shut.

And then I heard the jingling of Fry's collar, and a soft, awestruck "Oh, um..."

On reflex we pushed away from each other to see a bleary-eyed Danny just putting his glasses on.  Fry pattered over to us and jumped up on my legs.

"Good morning, Danny," I smiled.  "Fry's ready for breakfast, I guess?"

"Yup," he nodded, then shot a wary look at Freddie, as if he was trying to measure the situation.  Danny tiptoed further into the kitchen and walked carefully toward the pantry, still watching Freddie, who was watching him.  I frowned, a little perplexed- but then Freddie turned to me and winked when Danny's back was turned.  Which didn't help.  

What are you going to do to that poor child?

I found out seconds later.  Danny came back out of the pantry, Fry's food in the metal bowl, shyly looking one more time at Freddie as though he expected him to jumpscare him at any moment.

So it didn't make sense when Freddie suddenly drew up and cried "BAH!" and Danny was so startled that he dropped the food bowl and sent dog kibbles flying.  

"Aw, man!" Danny exclaimed, but he wasn't mad.  On the contrary, he started to laugh as if in relief, perhaps because now he knew that Freddie wasn't angry anymore.  

I had such a weird kid.

As for Freddie, who had been smiling at first, he was mortified.  "Oh, God, I am so sorry, Danny, I didn't mean to- here, let me help." 

But they both bent over too fast and too close, and the tops of their heads slammed against one another's and they staggered backward, slipped on the dog food that Fry hadn't yet gobbled up, and fell to the floor.

All in less than five seconds.

I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh myself, and asked slowly, "Are- you guys okay?"

They looked at me, and looked at each other, and looked at Fry, who was still eating and clearly didn't care that they might have broken a tailbone each, they fell so hard.

And we all lost it.  They apologized to each other, of course, but through giggles that would have sounded almost in stereo if Danny's voice had already changed.  I didn't know what just happened, but Freddie was laughing, which was always a good thing, because the world laughed when he laughed, and wept when he wept- but anyone would agree that laughing was much more fun.  And I believe it was from this moment on, that these two first connected, whether they knew it or they didn't- a connection that would only grow stronger as the days passed.

"All right, you guys," I said, trying to stifle a "How sweet" kind of smile and putting my hands out to help them up.  "Do we want breakfast now, or later?"