Julia

I sat in my office, drumming my fingers quietly against the desk. The girl from last evening had made an encore appearance as soon as the counseling center had opened for appointments and walk-ins, but thankfully she didn't stay very long- and for the moment, there was peace.

My eyes centered squarely upon a bit of glare in the glass surrounding me- and yet I really didn't see it; from the hall outside I could hear the faintest titters from the staff lounge, Antonio's soft voice as he spoke on the phone in his office, the occasional clack of shoes against the tile as someone strolled past, but I wasn't listening. I was completely zoned out, wrapped up in my own helpless thoughts.

John still hadn't sent me any kind of text or call, demanding an explanation for the picture of not two, but three grinning idiots standing in front of a newly decorated Christmas tree. Of course, Danny had to choose that picture; Freddie had taken forty photos at least of just the two of us, but he picked that one. I couldn't honestly blame my son, though. I had liked it the best myself; indeed, the smiles were more natural, the energy more relaxed, in that one spontaneous photo than in all the other posed and painstakingly crafted ones combined.

This extended waiting period was beginning to chafe at me severely- I much preferred to have disaster go ahead and get itself over with, instead of sitting around and waiting for it to strike- but it wasn't the only thing on my mind. In fact, in that moment, I wasn't thinking about John at all.

I was thinking about that sweet image I couldn't seem to will from my head no matter how I tried, in which I kept seeing Danny run back up the stairs just to give Freddie a bear hug goodbye. Without one word, I watched Freddie wrap his arms around my son, hold on just as tightly, a soft, sincere smile curving those lips. And my throat tightened.

For I had remembered something Danny said last night as I tucked him in.

I hadn't tucked Danny into bed for about two years now, due to the loud and awfully cute proclamation he had made one night, when he stood firm and barefoot in his blue race car pajamas to inform me that he was "too old to be tucked in, and too old for lullabies". So I did find it peculiar that last night, when I heard a knock at my bedroom door, and found Danny waiting patiently, hands behind his back.

He didn't even wait for me to ask why he was standing there; he told me right away, "Mom, can I see the-"

"Nope, bad start," I cut him off gently. "Try again."

With a put-out sigh and roll of his eyes, he asked again, but this time more politely, "Mom, may I please see the box tonight?"

"The box?" I stifled a yawn. "Tonight?"

"Uh-huh- yes, ma'am, I mean."

By "the box," Danny was referring to the locked metal chest in which I kept the few remaining artifacts of 1977, situated on the top shelf in my closet. It wasn't very much- a sealed letter, a torn in half Polaroid, a fortune cookie message bearing a line from "Wonderwall," among a few other various items- but to Danny it was a vast treasure trove; the box held his only tangible clues to learning about his father- a man that, as far as he knew, he had never met.

I shook my head. "Sweetie, it's really late and a school night besides. Maybe some other time."

"Tomorrow night?"

"Maybe- but remember, tomorrow we're going with Dr. Preus to see Star Wars on the big screen, so we may not get back till late."

"Not that late!"

I laughed, ruffling his hair. "We'll see, okay? We'll see."

"Okay," Danny nodded with a shrug. As he walked back to his room, I followed him and watched while he crawled into bed. To my surprise he didn't protest at all when I couldn't help but draw the covers around his chin, make sure he was nice and snug.

"I was just thinking about him," he explained suddenly after saying his prayers, "and I wanted to see the stuff. Thinking about Dad, I mean."

"I know who you meant, honey; I think about him, too."

"A lot?"

I told him the truth. "All the time."

"You miss him?"

"I do. Very much."

He took off his glasses, put them on his nightstand. "Was Dad like Freddie?"

I blinked, spoke slowly so as not to lose control. "How- how do you mean?"

"Well, you always say Dad was different and stuff- was he different like Freddie?"

"In- some ways, yes," I whispered.

"Good ways?"

"Mm-hm."

"Like what?"

I took a deep breath. "Like... he... he loved music. He sang constantly, it seemed, especially when he was happy- or wanted to feel happy. That's what he did. He would sing."

"Freddie sang to me today," Danny said. "It was the best, he sang the, um- Bohemian Rhapsody thing, and he was sad before, so- maybe he was trying to feel happy, too."

"Sad?"

"Uh-huh. He looked sad, anyway."

"Probably because he misses home," I explained. "1985 isn't something you can call long-distance after all." Unless you have the Relic, but that's different...

"Nope," he sighed. He rustled around under the covers a minute, then lay still.

I cocked my head. "Do you feel sad now?"

"A little."

I touched his cheek. "Do you want me to sing to you, or should I go get Freddie? Or are you still too old for lullabies?"

"Sing me a song Dad would sing when he was sad," he whispered.

Oh, God. Danny, why are you doing this to me?

But I cleared my throat, thought a moment, and nodded. "You've heard this one before, a long time ago."

"'Let Us Stay Together'?" he asked hopefully.

"'Cling Together,' actually, but you were close," I chuckled. "That's the one. Ready?"

"Mm-hm."

I sang him the first verse and the chorus, but strictly in English. If I threw the Japanese into the mix, there was too great a risk of Danny trying to one-up Freddie in their friendly little "I Know More Japanese Than You Do" competition tomorrow morning, using lyrics from the song. There were enough dominoes tumbling already.

Once I had finished, Danny smiled. "Feel better?" I asked.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Thanks."

But as I stood from his bedside, he had to ask me one more question. "Where did he go, Mom?"

"Go?"

"You always say he disappeared. What's that mean? Where is he?"

It was so hard not to blurt it all out in that very moment. I found myself wrestling the thoughts away from my lips, dragging them back to my brain. The three of us had had such a beautiful night together, all under the same roof, acting very much like an odd yet tight family- except only I knew that was what we were. So many times that night, I found myself watching Freddie and Danny together, and very briefly I was almost convinced- almost believed this was the way it had always been, it was that natural a sight.

But still I bit my tongue, held back. And I sighed, and murmured, "I wish I could tell you, baby."

Even while the piano music floated up from below, softly caressed us where we sat, music only Freddie, his father, could make- I only leaned forward and kissed my boy's cheek while I whispered a soft "Good night, Daniel-san."

It was that I was thinking of, as I watched them that morning, and as I sat there alone in my office.

And I still was no closer to the answer. I knew what I wanted to do, but it didn't matter what I wanted- and that was nothing new really. All that mattered was what needed to happen, such as, Freddie needed to leave soon- and I needed to get a hold of myself. I lifted my hands in front of my face to see they were trembling.

"This," I murmured, "is the last time I forget my happy pills while he's still here. I wouldn't even be thinking about this now if I hadn't been so stupid-"

Just then, my office phone trilled obnoxiously. When I picked it up, the receptionist's voice greeted me, "A man calling to speak with you, Ms. Samuels."

"Oh, a man," I repeated dryly. "Does he have a name by chance?"

"No- I mean, I'm sure he does, I just didn't ask- but he's got an English accent and he said a word I can't repeat while I'm on the clock-"

"Stop." I didn't need any other hints. With a reflexive smile, I nodded, "Put him through, please."

Two seconds later, that smooth voice purred, "Julia?"

I had to close my eyes, my own voice softening involuntarily. "Hi, Freddie. What's going on?"

"Hello? Hello?"

My brows knit, and I spoke a little louder. "Freddie?"

"You there, darling?"

"I'm right here!" But Freddie still couldn't hear me.

Now he was mumbling in frustration, "Bloody secretary, give me the wrong number, very well, there's more than one way to skin a cat. Right, Charles, would you-"

Click. Beep.

We were disconnected.

I shrugged and replaced the receiver. Well, at least I got to hear his voice before noon today. Hopefully our next would-be driving lesson wouldn't end as vitriolically as yesterday's did.

"Knock, knock!" someone called from the doorway.

I jumped, whirled in my chair- and smiled. "Well! Stuart! Come on in!"

Even before I invited him, Stuart strode briskly into my office, his tablet, a paperback book, and a few other documents still cradled under his arm. His cheeks were a little more red than usual- he must have walked all the way across campus from Preus Hall- but as he came closer I realized the flush in his face was not solely due to windburn. Something was wrong.

"Hey, Jules," he said, barely remembering to force a smile. "Mind if I close the door?"

"Pull it to, but don't shut it, please; it discourages the walk-ins," I explained. So he nudged the glass door so that it hung slightly ajar, then set his things down in the middle of one of the chairs and lightly perched himself on the corner of my desk.

"What's the matter, Stuart?" I asked.

"Tell you in a minute; first, I need a kiss," he sighed. I leaned forward then, let him gently touch my lips with his, before he took another deep breath and nodded. "Always works."

"Did something happen in the meeting?" I asked. This morning he had sent me text letting me know he would be down in the "War Room" with the team, apparently to discuss Speck's progress- or lack thereof.

"You could say that," he sniffed. "We're going to need some outside help. Dr. Ling is actually flying out this very evening-"

"Who?"

"Oh, sorry. Dr. Ling is one of my friend's colleagues in Singapore, she's flying out to sort of evaluate in person what's needed as far as technology goes, or the process, if there's anything at all that can be done, as far as getting him home's concerned."

"I thought you said you could get him back," I frowned. "What's happened?"

He rubbed his eyes. "It's just a whole lot more complicated than we first thought it would be. I'd love to tell you exactly what's the matter, but it's strictly confidential- so we will still make sure he's out of here in a timely manner. There's just- a whole lot more to the process, it goes much deeper than we surmised."

"You can tell me, Stuart, we're in this together."

He shrugged. "Not here, though. Too public a place. I'll tell you a little more tonight. Oh! By the way, what did our, ahem, distinguished guest think of the idea?"

"Of going back under? I still don't think he's too keen," I replied, indulging in a white lie of sorts. Stuart wouldn't take it very well were I to be fully honest, and say I forgot to ask him- but nobody likes being put in a coma, so I think it's a safe assumption.

"Pity," he sighed. "The real question is, what are we going to do about him while we're out? He won't want to come along, will he?"

"Probably not," I replied. "We only have three tickets anyway, right?"

"Right, luckily for us- and what's more the tickets sold out pretty fast, so he's virtually locked out."

I felt a slight pang of disappointment- but I knew deep down it was for the best. Too many Freddie memories were linked to Star Wars- and for him to be there again while we sat in the theater, much the way the two of us did half a century ago, would catch me in a riptide of lethal nostalgia, one from which I likely could not return without my happy pills.

Aloud I said, "I'll let him figure his night out, I think; he's a grown man."

Stuart smirked. "That's the theory. But," he cleared his throat, "I didn't come down here to talk about him- really I just came by to see you, say hi, and... well..." Stuart looked at his watch, then glanced back at me, suggestion curving one side of his thin lips. "Is it still too early, do you think?"

I blinked a couple of times. "For what?"

He shook his head, playfully pecked my cheek. "Honey, don't you remember what day it is?"

"Wednesday. What does-" I paused, then my eyes widened- and my insides pulled even tighter. Just in case, I tried playing dumb. "Oh. Oh, yeah. Star Wars."

Stuart laughed. "Yes, yes, aaaand...?"

But before I could answer, and correctly this time, he sighed, "That's okay, Jules, I know we've been having a weird week. Remember, it's our little Hump Day ritual- and oh, boy, do I need it after a morning like this."

I swallowed quietly and smiled. He always remembered- and I always wished he would forget. I was in no mood to carry on tradition this particular Wednesday- but that was a feeling I knew better than to express.

"I know, I'm just teasing," I winked, hoping he could not detect my lack of enthusiasm. "But - it is still pretty early and anyway, we usually wait till my break at noon before we get to the fun stuff, and-"

"Well, see, I was thinking of using that lunch date I had to cancel yesterday, take you out today- which by the way, I am really sorry about, I should have given you a little more notice."

"It's all right, I had a Plan B," I quipped without thinking.

Stuart's brows rose. "Yeah? What'd you do instead?"

I hesitated, tried to concoct a delicate, innocuous way to tell Stuart that Freddie and I spent the hour driving each other crazy, no pun intended- and even worse, that we had made plans to do it all over again today. True, nothing naughty had taken place, but one unfortunate word taken the wrong way could totally annihilate the true innocence of the simple driving lesson. But before a single word of explanation could leave my lips, over Stuart's shoulder I saw the glass door swing open, and the man behind it peeked inside.

Freddie gazed right past Stuart and into my eyes. "Ah! There you are. What's new, pussycat?"

My jaw dropped. I couldn't help it. What was he doing here so early? And did he not see who was sitting right here at my left, almost blocking my view of the door itself? The cheek of this man! The pure brazenness!

I watched Stuart's back stiffen as Freddie walked- no, walked isn't exactly the right word, more like glided- into the room, reaching out and seizing my hand in both of his. "Hello, sorry for just showing up so sort of unannounced, there's something I've just got to talk to you about."

"Freddie, what the-" I began when he all but tugged me out of my chair, started dragging me toward the exit. What could I do but let him.

Stuart stood up. "Hey, wait a minute, you can't just-"

"Oh! Hello, darling, I didn't see you there," he crooned in that exaggerated, flamboyant tone he saved for Dr. Preus alone. "How are your little experiments and things coming along, dear Simon?"

His jaw clenched. "It's Stuart."

"Whatever," Freddie sang, unmoved by Stuart's hardened expression. "Listen, I'm just going to borrow our Julia for about five minutes, would you mind holding down the fort here?"

I looked at him as he opened the door. "Our" Julia? I asked silently. How mad are we trying to make him, Freddie?

"Wha- w- what do you need her for?" Stuart demanded.

"Oh, nothing, she's just going to give me a lap dance. I'll give her right back afterwards, I promise. Come along, my dear!"

Before Stuart could raise his clear voice in protest, Freddie whisked me out of the office, down the hall past Antonio's and Kate's, and into the small, open file room- one of the only rooms in the building not constantly under surveillance. We ducked into one of the more invisible niches, well hidden by the high shelves heavy laden with boxes of documents.

"Was that necessary?" I asked.

Freddie didn't miss a beat. "It made his face change colors, so, yes, I'd say it was."

I covered my mouth to hide the giggles. Were it anybody else behaving this way, I would have wrestled away from him and called for security- but since it was Freddie, all I could do was sigh, sit down on one of the stacks sitting on the floor, rest my chin in my hand, and wait for him to join me.

Once he was satisfied that the coast was clear, Freddie approached, had me scoot over a little, then plopped down uncomfortably close to me so that we both were squashing the same unlucky column of cardboard boxes.

"Lap dance?" I repeated.

Freddie shrugged. "I mean, it was the first thing that came to mind. I'm still waiting for it, you know."

"What are you talking about?"

"Silly thing, remember that song, the one that got you so wound up the other day?" He crossed his legs, a hint of that old familiar gleam shining behind his eyes. "Or is that the 'more' you've promised me?"

I folded my arms, tried to stifle a smile. "Freddie, we have about thirty seconds before Stuart comes in and kicks you out-"

"I'd like to see him try," he scoffed under his breath.

"What?"

Then, of course, he pretended not to have heard me. "Hm? You say something?"

I sighed, deciding to simply come to the point. "What brings you all the way out here, Freddie?"

"Darling, I was already basically in the, um- neighborhood, you know, and I did try calling you on this flippy phone thing of Danny's, but we were cut off."

"Why do you have Danny's phone?"

"I don't know, he left it at the house and I just decided to bring it with me," Freddie replied, pulling it out of his pocket. He coughed. "Every time a message comes in, it vibrates in the most obscene manner, I tell you."

"I never thought about it like that," I mumbled, covering my mouth. And now that you've mentioned it, Freddie, I won't see it any other way from now on. Thanks a lot.

Freddie straightened up a little then, and went on to explain that Wes Adams had called him, asked him to sub in for half an hour at the radio station while he sorted things out with his malfunctioning Tesla- and for a "handsome" sum besides. How handsome, curiously enough, Freddie refused to divulge.

"And it's at eleven, he wants this, so um- I think perhaps we should just sort of push the time back a bit, maybe half-past noon would be nice."

A slow grin crept across my face. "You? A DJ?"

"Yes, me. So? What, you don't think I can pull it off?"

"You can do anything," I told him. "But you'd have to mask your identity a little-"

"I'll do it my way, dear," he cut me off, "but thank you."

I rolled my eyes. "I know you will. That's how you do everything."

"It's the only way, really. Mine. All others aren't worth the time."

"Jackass."

Freddie ignored me- but he couldn't hide the smile. "So anyway, what I was trying to say, is, can we do that? Postpone it to a later time, you think? Say, twelve thirty, or one?"

That wouldn't please Stuart, I reminded myself. None of it would. But I also didn't want to flat out turn Freddie down, so I began cautiously, "I don't know, maybe-"

"Jules!"

The word harpooned the silence, startling me out of my seat. In the next second, Stuart stood before us, hands on his hips. "There you are. What's going on?"

Freddie's eyes flattened as soon as he saw him. "Dear, I said, five minutes, not two and a half," he drawled, standing as well. "Come back in a moment, there's a love. Go on."

"Whatever you have to say to her, you can say in front of me," Stuart said firmly. To me, he spoke, "Are you okay, Jules?"

"I'm fine," I said, lowering my eyes. "We were just talking about, uh- noon."

"What about it?"

Before I could answer, Freddie spoke up, "That's when we're meeting, you see."

Stuart frowned. "For what?"

"It is absolutely none of your concern."

His frown deepening, Stuart looked my way. "Jules, what's going on?"

"Nothing," I blurted, waving my hands, "Freddie's just teasing, just like he was about the lap dance thing."

Freddie looked at me as if to ask, "I was?" but I paid no heed. Stuart would have to win this one; and in a match-up like this, so he would always win. I babbled on, "He just wanted to ask me a quick question, and I've answered it, so- we're good now. You and I are still on for noon."

Stuart blinked. "Oh. Okay." And just like that, his budding concerns dissipated.

Whew.

He clapped Freddie on the shoulder in a poor display of feigned amity. "Sorry, old man, it's just when you burst in uninvited, drag my girlfriend off somewhere, I'm inclined to be a little jumpy."

"Not at all, dear," Freddie managed, tossing a sidelong glance my direction. "In fact, I- think I should be going. I've got somewhere to be at eleven, apparently."

His words were still full of camp, but I couldn't help noticing the cool, steely tone under the velvet accents. It was as though he was brandishing a sheathed sword -one he was ever prepared to draw and use with infamously lethal skill, should the need arise.

I saw Freddie out of the building, this time with Stuart's approval ("Be quick about it," he whispered, punctuating this with one of the most involved kisses he had ever given me in my life) but it wasn't until after we pushed past the main entrance's double doors that he spoke to me again. We walked to the lemon yellow machine of a dream (I'm not even trying to be cute; Roger Taylor would have absolutely lost his mind over that thing), where Charles stood waiting.

And in an attempt to shrug off the last two minutes, I quipped, "Well, look on the bright side; now you don't have to deal with me squealing every time you stop too fast."

Freddie still didn't say anything, kept his eyes on his shoes. With a sigh, I broke down and said, "Freddie, I'm sorry, I didn't know learning to drive meant so-"

"Sh." He laid a long finger against my lips. "I'm not angry with you. Really, I'm not angry at all, I'm - I'm just confused."

"How?"

But as ever, Freddie didn't take the time to spell it out. After a moment, he shrugged, "Anyway, I'd better be going, let the man know I'm taking him up on the offer." He smiled at me. "I'll see you tonight, won't I?"

I balked. Crap. Turning Freddie down once was bad enough- but twice in the same day- over the same man?

"Uh- Why?" I asked.

He shrugged, looking down. Star though he was, he had never lost that touch of shyness, that endearing awkward manner that still surfaced every now and then. "Well, I mean- if all goes well at the studio, you see, that means a little brass in pocket- and that means, I'd like to, you know, take you out or whatever-"

I tried to explain, "No, you don't have to, because St-"

"Julia, it's not a have-to sort of- look," he interrupted. "I didn't realize- I didn't know I basically had a hand in my being here at all, I didn't know I grabbed you- why didn't you say something, dear?"

I didn't understand. "Why would I?"

"I don't know. Some people- most people, perhaps- might, you know, use that as a sort of weapon, or something."

"That's silly," I murmured. "You didn't know what was happening- none of us did, really. If it's anybody's fault, it's the guy who let Danny into the lab in the first place."

Freddie's lips curved in a gentle half-smile. "Remind me to thank him when I see him."

I nodded, then did a double take. "What did you say?"

"Uh- nothing, I meant to say something else, I mean, I don't-"

"Jules!" Stuart called from the door. "You okay?"

"I'm coming," I replied. Man, he must want it right now- and shame on me for making him wait.

"Good Lord," Freddie hissed through gritted teeth. "Why can't that guy leave you alone?"

I smiled. "He's probably thinking the same thing about you- for a different reason."

"Different?"

"He's a little jealous, remember?" I laughed. "He says he isn't, but- you know how it is with some guys."

Freddie just looked at me a moment, expression blank, then glanced back over his shoulder to see Stuart watching us. I could swear I saw Freddie's body stiffen for a moment before he turned to face me again.

"You'd better be going," I urged him. "Time's a-wasting."

"Right." With a quick goodbye, he put his hands in his pockets, allowed the driver Charles to open the passenger door for him. Too quickly, it seemed, the doors lowered again, and the yellow rocket sped away.

There goes the best part of my day- and he didn't even kiss me.

Stuart let me back into the building, that same hopeful smile on his face. "So- I mean, do you mind if we do it now?"

"You know what, yes," I nodded. "Why not."

"Excellent," he said, kissing my lips again. So we walked toward the parking garage elevator, only stopping briefly when Antonio poked his head out of his office and asked me "Who was that cutie running down the hall with you just now?"

With a sigh, I watched Stuart press the button, and the doors pulled open. My insides writhed in anticipation. Absently I licked my lips- and Stuart, thinking the wrong thing, only smiled.

And just like on any other Wednesday, I was resigned- but I couldn't stop thinking about Freddie, no matter how strangely guilty the thoughts made me feel. We stepped inside, and down we went, while I forced my mind to wander anywhere but there, to him. It would only make this harder.

I might as well just get this over with. If we wait till noon, I won't be able to eat. Just five minutes. Stu doesn't typically last much longer than that anyway. I did bring my toothbrush, didn't I? God, I sure hope so.

The doors pulled open. Stuart and I walked silently toward his Mercedes.

Happy Wednesday, world, I told myself, before closing my eyes; this was so much easier to do when I didn't look.