Sal here!

First off, I feel I ought to say congratulations to Mr. Rami Malek for falling off the sta- I mean, for winning his first Academy Award for his portrayal of Freddie Mercury in the film Bohemian Rhapsody. While I personally did not enjoy the movie as much as many of you guys have (no disrespect meant, it's merely a matter of taste), Malek put a great deal of himself into the role, and it would be the height of poor sportsmanship not to acknowledge the man is very talented and deserved the award more than any of the other nominees for Best Actor.

Second, caution! This chapter contains... Well, you know. The title kinda gives it away. ;)

Julia

Despite the heater blowing at full blast on our feet and faces, Freddie and I were still freezing by the time the three of us finally reached the house. Already our neighborhood looked like a genuine winter wonderland, the kind they use for illustrations on Christmas card covers. A thick layer of virgin snow had collected all along our rooftop, and the forecast only predicted more to fall throughout the night. Needless to say, Danny was thrilled.

"We should build a snowman," he chirped as I opened the garage. "Can we?"

"Not right now, we aren't; I can't even move my toes," I replied.

"I don't mean right now! I mean tomorrow!" Danny unbuckled and leaned in so his dark head was hovering just above the armrest between Freddie and myself. "Do you wanna build a snowman, Freddie?"

The temptation was too great. In a silly, nasal voice, I softly trilled, "Do you wanna build a snow-maaaaaan..."

"NOOOO! I hate that song!" Danny howled, covering his ears. "I already hear it enough going to school!"

"I never see you any-mooooore-"

"GAAAAH!" Danny scrambled frantically out of the car and unlocked the garage entrance, disappearing into the house before I could torture him with any more Frozen lyrics.

Snickering, I took the key out of ignition, then turned to Freddie to say something, I don't remember what. For I forgot whatever it was the moment I saw him. He was staring down at his lap, one hand motionless in his lap while the long, slender fingers of the other quietly drummed against his thigh. I knew what that stance meant; I'd only seen it a million times before, after all.

"Are you all right, Freddie?" I asked.

"Mm," he nodded, glancing at me. "I'm fine."

I knew better than to believe him, of course. His sweet dark eyes looked staggeringly woeful, as they had all throughout the drive home. For that whole hour, in fact, Freddie barely spoke at all. He just sat there and listened as the boy chattered happily from the back seat, softly singing along to the odd tune that he recognized and providing only short, vague answers when directly addressed by either of us.

Granted, I did have a pretty good idea why he was so pensive then. Any time Danny said anything that remotely hinted of attitude, and all the while Danny belted out "I Wanna Be Your Lover" in that darling soprano of his, Freddie's lips would purse as though in fighting back a melancholy little smile. I could almost hear him thinking, "Good Lord, how did I not see it?"

But only God knew what was running through his mind now.

All the same, I didn't try to make him tell me. Instead, I touched his cheek, causing those eyes to flutter closed and his face to nuzzle gently into my palm. What could I do but smile, while inside my weak heart threatened to break just one more time for good measure.

He took my hand off his face, kissed its palm, and with a little gratuitous wink quietly slipped out, shutting the door as he walked off the direction our wild Danny had run. I watched his every move, those beautiful words echoing gently in my ears, the words we finally had the guts to utter only two hours before. With a soft smile, I too clambered out of the Jetta, forgetting to be annoyed for now that Danny had left his empty White Castle bag in the back seat.

Gathering up the trash, I padded over to the bin and tossed it inside when I heard heavy footsteps crunching away through the snow. My head jerked up, faced the opening. Presently, the bundled-up form of Mr. Adams stepped into the light.

"Hey!" he greeted me.

I smiled to hide the confusion. "Hi, Wes! What are you doing here at this hour?"

Wes shuffled into the garage, clapping his gloved hands. "Just, uh- first of all, is Rick around?"

"He's inside with Danny. Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong! I just have some big news for you, and it's the kind that would probably interest your friend Rick, too."

I wasn't sure how to best interpret that, so I replied, "Why don't you tell it to me first?"

"All right," he chuckled. "Well, for starters- I thought you should know who showed up on my doorstep."

My eyes bugged. "Who?"

"Guess."

"Wes, I'm not in the m- was it Stuart?"

"No! No, no, no. I wouldn't be smiling so hard if it was."

"Okay," I sighed, more in relief now than frustration, "then who?"

Wes leaned in close, and lowered his voice so much I almost couldn't hear him over the refrigerator's rumbling- but I managed. The two words he uttered were hard ones to misconstrue:

"John Deacon."

My knees shook. I didn't know how I still had the energy to be startled by anything anymore, but there I stood, face paling, heart pounding in my ears. I almost had the moxie to indignantly ask myself why that man hadn't let me know he had reached our neighborhood, when I remembered that in the emotional hullabaloo of the past two hours my own response to his message had fallen by the wayside. And Deacy was one of those people, like myself, who would not send another text until the recipient had officially acknowledged the last.

"John came to your house?" I repeated.

"Uh-huh," Wes nodded. "He's Danny's godfather, right?"

I rubbed my aching temple. "And, uh- how would you know-"

"The kids. They told me."

"Dammit," I chuckled. "Who knew you couldn't trust a couple of nine-year-olds with the secrets of the century?"

"I know, right?"

"Do you know where he went?"

"I do."

"Where?"

He shrugged. "Nowhere."

Why are all the men in my life like this? "I'm awfully tired, Wes, what are you playing at?"

"He never left," Wes explained. "He's still at the house."

I blinked. "You mean to tell me- he's just hanging out with you over there?"

"Well, he's asleep, but- yeah."

"As we speak?"

"Yeah. He says he's just here to see Danny, but I'm thinking he wants to meet Rick, to be honest."

"That's certainly part of it," I agreed. "He and Freddie were very good friends back then- and although he doesn't involve himself in the public sphere, even where it concerns Queen, this time around, he feels, uh, safe enough to check this guy out, seeing as Rick's living with us and everything."

"Must be nice to have his trust," Wes sighed. "He seems really shy."

"With most people, he is- but he feels safe with us, I suppose. He treats Danny as his grandson, and me like his own daughter. They have been very good to us through the years, the Deacons have, and saved my life on more than one occasion, so- they might as well be official blood relations at this point."

Wes lowered his voice again. "Speaking of blood relations, I have to say- Danny kinda reminds me of Freddie a little."

I smiled nervously. "He does?"

"Yeah. I don't know, maybe it's just the hair, but- his personality is very Freddie-esque, I've noticed it several times while I'm driving him and Lauren even before this whole thing started with Rick, he's so- I don't know. But I will say, it is pretty trippy, to see Danny and Rick together- especially when Rick could honestly pass for the real thing, it just- gives me the strangest ideas."

"Like what?" I cocked my head. Good God, do we need to worry about you too now?

"Well- I mean- there's just so many coincidences happening here. Out of the blue, Rick pops up, and he's just like Freddie in every possible way. Looks, walks, talks like him. I mean, how impossible is that? And then, a few days later, John Deacon, his old friend and Danny's godfather to boot, shows up in the same place, looking for him. And to top it off, Mr. Let's All Go Back in Time Someday is your boyfriend."

"What does Stuart have to do with it?"

"You tell me."

"Wes, what are you trying to say?"

"I don't know," he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Maybe it is all coincidence, all chance, but it- it all adds up, and yet it doesn't, you know?"

"What adds up?"

Wes looked at me, and proceeded to go for broke. "Julia, is Rick the real Freddie?"

I swallowed. It was becoming more and more difficult to play the skeptic. "What kind of crazy question is that? Even if he was the real Freddie, you really think he'd be so young?"

"I know, I know- but did you, or Stuart, or somebody- did you bring him back?"

"Wes, do you hear yourself?" I scoffed gently. "Time travel is impossible, even now."

"I know, and I'm regretting every word I'm saying, because it sounds so crazy, but- I mean- Freddie's double in here, John in there-"

"Besides, what would the real Freddie have to do with me? I'm a woman. Worse still, an American woman."

"But a very pretty American woman."

"You're sweet- but it wouldn't matter. You know what he liked, you've seen Bo Rhap-"

"Yeah. The movie you said Back to the Future, Part Two was more accurate than?"

"Well- that might have been a slight exaggeration, but-"

"The movie you said set out to make him look like an arrogant, two-dimensional asshole with no humor or humanity whatsoev-"

"Wes, are you listening to me at all?"

"I am." Wes's brow arched. "And so far, I've yet to hear you straight-up tell me 'no'."

I opened my mouth to stammer out some more limp-wristed rationalizations, when we were interrupted with an impatient, but still musical, "Darling, what's taking you so long?"

Oh, sweet Jesus, thank you. Thank you for sending me a Straker.

Once Freddie put his head out of the doorway and saw us, however, his tone flattened. "Oh, it's Wes of the Press. Hello."

"Hi, Rick," he waved. "We were, uh, just talking about you, actually."

Freddie drew nearer, though slowly. "You were?"

"In a good way, of course," Wes assured him. "You okay?"

"Why?"

"You look a little frazzled, did something happen?"

"Why don't you tell me," Freddie quipped dryly. "You're asking for a reason, what is it?"

"No reason, I just-"

"Did you see us on the news or something?"

"No, I didn't. I was watching the second Home Alone. You guys were on the news?"

"Probably not," I jumped in quickly before Freddie could further blow our cover. Surely Wes would eventually see the headlines for himself, but I was in no state to be discovered and further interrogated now. "We're just- tired, I think, and a little paranoid. It's been a hell of a night."

While Wes looked us both from head to toe. "So I see," he chuckled. "I better get going. Sorry for crashing on you guys like this."

"I'm glad you did," I smiled. "Now I know to set two extra places at breakfast tomorrow."

"I'm already excited," he laughed, before bidding us good night and heading back to his house to babysit a soundly sleeping John Deacon.

How far down does this rabbit hole go? I asked myself rhetorically. How long before it finally all blows up around us?

"So, what did he want?" Freddie asked.

I shrugged, somehow keeping my face totally straight. "He just wanted me to know that Danny's godfather is next door."

"Mm," he nodded, then did a double take. "Wait, what?"

"Danny's Uncle John just got in, apparently, and I guess he's staying with Wes tonight-"

"We're having a visitor tomorrow, then?"

"It would seem we are. He was supposed to come around tonight, but I guess his flight got delayed or something, I'm sure he'll tell us all about it in the morning." As much as I wanted John to see his old friend again, I did not have the energy to deal with any more emotional crises tonight. Perhaps all would once again go to Hell in a hand basket tomorrow, but at least I would be rested and ready for it then.

Freddie stared off into the dark night beyond. "Can we trust him, Julia?"

"Of course. He wouldn't be Danny's godfather if I couldn't-"

"No, no, I mean, Wes. You don't think he'll tell anyone about - I mean, at this point, can we still, um- still trust him to keep from telling his people that I'm his next door neighbor?"

I mulled Wes's mounting suspicions, and sighed, "I think we can. I hope we can. I don't think he would consciously do anything to jeopardize our friendship- and that certainly would."

He's no Paul, after all, I added silently.

But Freddie's narrowed eyes showed that he was far from convinced. Although I knew some of this was mere innate prejudice against the press, I didn't really blame him for being a little skeptical, when I recalled the mess we had to deal with upon returning to the Tavern:

When we pulled up in the security guard's mule, we found the place was crawling with reporters, their big white news vans lined up like food trucks on the right side of the street. For his own safety I left Freddie with the guard near the back entrance, and sneaked all the way around the restaurant on foot to get my car. To my dismay, however, I found the valet stand abandoned, which meant I had to go back inside for help.

I have heard of people describing a highly publicized event as a "media circus", but I had never really experienced one deserving of the phrase, till that moment. There were microphones, cameras, interviewers and interviewees, everywhere. Covering my face, I looked wildly around for some Good Samaritan to assist when none other than Corey walked into my peripheral vision and spotted me. I explained what was happening, and so, being the perfectly angelic soul he was, he snatched my keys from the valet when no one was looking and went to bring the Jetta around for me without so much as a peep announcing my return.

To save time, I ran back through the kitchen to collect Freddie only to find the mule was gone, and the guard with it. Mildly freaking out, I searched the kitchen where I found him some minutes later, hiding out in the walk-in fridge away from a cluster of New Yorkers who had spotted him standing alone in the back. Apparently the guard had had no intention of waiting on us much longer, and had left Freddie to fend for himself. Hand in cold hand, we hustled discreetly out into the open, keeping our bodies pressed side-by-side and our eyes down- for the most part, anyway.

Somewhere near the front exit I made the mistake of accidentally nudging into an older gentleman from behind, and on instinct I looked up to apologize. But one look at the curly silver mane beside him prevented me from saying a word, and I put my head down again. His companion might not have been who I thought he was, but I could not take any chances, nor would I till we were both safe and sound, miles away from the Tavern. Thankfully, we went successfully unrecognized, not counting Corey of course- whom we again tipped handsomely and who gave us a thumbs-up and his business card in return. Why, exactly, I don't know- but it was nice to have found ourselves another true ally just the same.

Now, the man shivered a little- whether from reliving the evening's mayhem or the cold, it was hard to say till I looked down at Freddie's feet, which were still bare. The silly man.

"Come on, my prince, let's go inside," I murmured. "We're not getting any warmer just standing here."

Once we were in the house, Fry, hysterical from just being let back in after a brief romp in the snow, jumped up on our legs once each in greeting, then scampered back to his master. We found Danny himself in a state of true relaxation. He lay with his sock feet on the couch cushions, a plate of gingerbread men on the coffee table, Farnsie on his shoulder, and Futurama on the TV.

"Comfortable, Daniel-san?" I said dryly.

"Mm-hm!" Pausing the show, Danny moved his legs and patted the cushion beside him. "Come on, Freddie, you're missing it!"

My eyes widened. "Am I to understand you both are watching this?"

"I may or may not have been tricked into watching one episode whilst taking those damn pills of mine," he whispered.

"Awww," I cooed.

"I mean," Freddie stammered, his cheeks catching fire, "he wouldn't stop talking about how wonderful the show is, and how funny or whatever, so I just thought I'd-"

"AWWWW."

"Oh, f--- off," he growled, but he was smiling as he nestled beside the boy, who immediately unfroze the frame and set Matt Groening's Harlem Globetrotters to prancing around the basketball court again.

"Well, while you guys are doing this, I'm heading upstairs," I announced through a yawn.

Freddie looked back at me, brows creasing his forehead. "You're not joining us?"

"I've seen this one so many times, I could quote it from memory; right now, I just want to get warmed up. I'm going to take this dress off, get in the shower, turn on the hot water, and just stand there and thaw for a while."

The dark eyes danced with subtle interest, before he seemed to remember something. A bit hesitantly, Freddie turned to Danny and asked, "How- long do these things usually last?"

"Twenty, twenty-two minutes. I dunno. Why?"

"How far in are we?"

"About, uh- a third? Time hasn't started skipping yet, so- yeah. A third."

Freddie faced me again. "Come on, darling, it's only another fifteen minutes; soaking in the shower can wait at least that long, can't it?"

One Mercury staring me down was hard enough to refuse; under both their pleading dark gazes, I didn't stand a single chance. "Oh, all right, then. Move over, you two."

It was almost surreal, sharing this weird, nerdy show that Danny and I both loved with Freddie (who was a very good sport throughout, although he apparently couldn't quite get past the fact that Leela was a cyclops). Even more unbelievable was how it had only been a week since Freddie was first dragged across the continuum, and yet we three sat here, cozily crowded together on the sofa as naturally as if it was some kind of family ritual. There was a sense of completion, a feeling that although this was not how it was going to be much longer, this certainly was how it was meant to be.

I wish there was a way, I sighed inwardly, eyes roving quietly over the handsome, black-haired boys at my right. I wish there was a way we could be with him, I wish, I wish... Oh God, I wish...

When the episode ended, Danny eagerly leapt off the sofa, remote control in hand. "Wanna do another?" he chirped.

"I'm good," I announced, standing up. "I'm headed upstairs, be back in a few."

The boy turned his head. "What about you, Freddie?"

Freddie looked trapped. "I, um- you know, I think one was enough for me-"

"Didn't you like it?"

"I mean, yes, sort of- I didn't understand much of it, but-"

"Then we should watch another. It'll help. You pick."

Freddie's lips twitched nervously. I knew what he was thinking, it was written all over his face- which only egged me on further. In a manner bordering on seductive, I shuffled my arms out of his white jacket and draped it over the back of the couch beside him. Ever so slowly I sauntered on over to the staircase, bare arms reached up over my head in a stretch.

"Knock if you need anything, fellas," I sighed creamily, and disappeared up the steps while Freddie watched in a frustrated silence.

Welcome to my every day, sweetie.

By the time I was getting myself undressed, however, I felt a little foolish. Freddie now knew the three of us were a family, albeit one in which he was not required to stay- so it made no sense to tease him as though we were both still single and unattached. Besides, we might have had our little half-drunk fling the night before, but I certainly had no reason to flaunt myself as though I was anything close to titillating. He had been there and done that.

What was more, I still had not yet found that bug. However fervently Freddie and I had confessed our love in the Park, we could not speak or act so freely now that we were once again being monitored.

Rubbing the chill off my arms and dashing my necklace into the drawer again, I turned on the hot water to let the streams heat up. That's one thing I wish this house had, was a fireplace, I mused to myself while I rummaged through my drawers for the warmest pajamas I could find. That and a more efficient water heater. Santa, please take note.

Soon enough, steam began to escape into the bedroom, alerting me to come on in, the water was fine. I pushed the curtain a little more open, shut my eyes, and stood in front of the near-scalding jets.

Oh, God. There is nothing like being drenched in steam and hot water after spending so much time outside in the bitter wind, letting your fingers, toes, arms, legs come back to life while the heat mercilessly beats down into your scalp and runs down freely through your hair. I shut my eyes, took a deep, deep breath-

And gasped when I felt two big, cold hands grab my chest.

I whirled around- or at least, I tried to. His hands held me too tight, pressing my back firmly against him. Before I could voice a single thought, those velvet lips grazed against my neck, emptying my mind of anything intelligent.

With great effort, I managed to quip, "I guess you said no."

He only hummed in reply. The hands, much warmer now than before, rubbed my hardening nipples back and forth in between their fingers. I shuddered, eyes closing as I involuntarily bit my lip.

"Tell me, dear," he whispered, his hot breath filling my ear, "how do you keep your tits so perky?"

Turning me around, his arms slipped tightly around me, drew me so roughly against him I half-expected his next move to involve pinning me against the tile and pounding me senseless. To my surprise, however, right now a simple embrace was as far physically as Freddie chose to take it. He suddenly downshifted from forceful to tender, and for a bit all he did was stare at me, those radiant black eyes smiling down as I gazed back up into them, while the hot rain beat down over us.

Naturally, Freddie did not stay content with this for long. His mouth fell softly against my jawline, then traveled down my neck, each kiss becoming more and more like a bite with every caress. As though taking his cue, my own hand slid down his slick back, finding its very obvious way toward the front of his waist. Gently my fingertips trailed across his belly, running through the matted wet hair upon it.

Freddie watched every second this went on, letting out the softest little moan of anticipation when I just barely brushed against its base. On instinct, I licked my lips- something he surely noticed. For then I felt his hand travel up toward the back of my neck-

I shouldn't, I told myself weakly. I want to, but I shouldn't. He'll hear.

"Freddie, wait," I whispered, jerking away from him. "This is a bad idea."

He rolled his eyes. "F---. Now what?"

"Listen, there's a bug Stuart planted somewhere in this house, and if we get going again like we did last night- I at least have a weak alibi for yesterday, we both drank a little too much, but tonight I don't have that excu-"

Freddie stopped my mouth with a kiss. "Relax, honey, I took care of it."

I blinked. "You did?"

"Mm."

"How?"

"I have my ways. Don't worry, dear; Modo won't be bothering us anymore."

I squinted. "You think it was Modo?"

"Not think. Know."

"But how can you be so-"

"Really, darling?" he scoffed indignantly. "Did this never occur to you before? One, they're basically just sort of glorified live microphones that sit around all f---ing day listening for someone to say their name and give them something to do, and two, as I recall it was Gertrude himself who gave those things to you at all. What else could it be?"

I thought about it, decided he may indeed be on to something. "Well, that explains why you tore them up this afternoon."

"Mm." He smiled proudly.

"Wow, I should have known. I feel pretty stupid now."

"You're not stupid, my dear, you're just terribly naive," he cooed softly, brushing a wet lock of hair out of my eyes. "So take it easy, now, would you? Everything's all right."

"You promise?"

"I promise," Freddie whispered against my lips as he went in for another, more passionate kiss. "Now, where were we again?"

"Somewhere around here," I whispered as I slid down to kneel upon the tile.

While he watched, I carefully took him in my hand, rubbing back and forth ever so slightly to make him just a little harder before closing my lips around the tip. Freddie ground his teeth together, sucked in his breath. However little practice I may have chosen to have in most sexual areas, this time I knew exactly what I was doing. My eyes opened wide, watched his chiseled face contort in all the most rewarding gradations of passion and ecstasy.

Before long, his thighs began to shake, and his breathing shortened and sped up. Freddie was getting close to his peak- but before he reached it, he pushed my head back, forcing himself out of my mouth and confusing me completely.

"W-what's wrong?" I rasped.

He didn't answer, and instead merely shut off the water with one solid twist. Before I could ask him what was happening, he yanked me back upright, seizing the bath towel off the rack and wrapping us both up in it. Not the most comfortable set-up at first, but one that was resolved the moment he hoisted me up off the floor. Immediately I wrapped my legs around his waist.

"You've sure got a lot of nerve," was all I could make myself say.

"Not really." His face nuzzled into my chest, lips grazing against my cleavage with each word; I loved it when he did that. "I'm just taking what belongs to me- but properly this time."

"...Properly?"

"You didn't meow last night."

The accusation caught me off guard. "What?"

"You didn't climax, did you?"

"I- don't know, I might have-"

"F--- that. Either you did or you didn't- and don't you dare tell me it's been too long and you don't remember what it feels like."

I didn't answer- and not just because I didn't have the heart to tell him that I had not, in fact, peaked the night before. For a moment or two, I truly could not speak. Yes, we had explored one another last night, but it happened under the cover of darkness- and what little I could see by the light in the hall was not enough to make up for ten blind years. But here he stood, his sweet, excited body flushed and damp with pleasure and the cleansing heat; such a sight was almost too much to handle.

"Very well," he sighed when I stayed silent. "It seems I'll have to remind you."

One hand slithered further down, darting quietly between my spread legs and making my eyes pop wide in surprise. I let out a loud moan. Without a word he dragged me down again, but this time so that I lay with my back against the sheets; at some random point I suppose Freddie had worked us back into the bedroom and drawn back the covers. With a little evil chuckle he parted my legs one more time- and leaned down, his mouth open and his eyes closed.

I nearly screamed, the only thing preventing me was the vague memory that our nine-year-old son was about fifty feet away. God, what a maddening touch, what strange, intoxicating power Freddie still held over me. It had been such a long time, this felt so foreign, and yet, so deliciously familiar...

Freddie whispered something, but my head was spinning too fast to make it out. "What?" I gasped.

"I said, meow," he hissed. "Meow for me."

But I couldn't make myself meow on command. It had to hit me in the same way an orgasm would: without effort.

"I won't stop until I hear it," he growled.

"D- don't want you to stop-"

"Not even if it means taking me inside you?"

Like a charm, my eyes opened. That was different. I needed him in me, more than last night, more than ever before. "Freddie, please-"

"Come on, then," he purred, kissing my waist. " Let me hear you, loud and clear."

Licking my lips, I heaved, "Then you let me get on top- and I'll show you a f---ing 'meow'."

I do not know where that came from, but I don't care. Either way, Freddie obediently rolled onto his back. With what strength I had left, I climbed up and straddled his waist, lowering myself down- though not too quickly, for he was still awfully intimidating. Sure enough, however, I had settled myself around him, and taken enough of him into me to move.

One shift of the hips, and I was finished. I threw back my head and at last let out that throaty half-growl, half-scream he loved so much.

This went on for quite a while, me pumping myself up and down upon him at ever increasing speed, he pulling my head down time and again to kiss and moan loudly into my mouth. I wasn't thinking about what Danny could hear, or anything else really, aside of how much I loved this man beneath me, this man who was both heaven and hell personified, this man who destroyed me and kept me afloat all at the same time.

Freddie, my torment, my treasure, my savior, my downfall, my reason to live, my reason to die.

We were so lost in the moment, in fact, that when Freddie climaxed he did not warn me ahead of time- and so ended up peaking before he had the chance to pull out of me, but I didn't care. Not now. I was too overcome by my own wild feelings.

With one last euphoric moan, I fell against his chest, where he gathered me nearer to him and I lay there in his arms, our breathing slowly but surely calming down. In spite of myself, I let out a wide yawn- which made Freddie chuckle.

"Tired?" he whispered.

I sighed. "Not too much, I'm just- done with today."

He stroked my wet hair. "Me too, darling; I think all of us are."

"Word of warning, though: tomorrow is going to be just as huge a mess, if not a bigger one."

"I know."

I lifted my head, looked into his sleepy eyes. "No, my prince, I don't think you do."

"Well, whether I do or don't, it doesn't matter yet. So let's not worry about it until it does."

"Que sera, sera," I whispered. "Yes?"

He smiled, leaning up. "Exactly."

Before our lips met, however, Danny's young voice called through the door, "You guys okay?"

We nearly fell off the bed, he startled us so much. "Uh- yes! We're great!" I stammered, fumbling for my pajamas while Freddie darted into the bathroom to grab the robe. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, just- did you guys fall or stub your toe or something?"

"Uh- no. Why?"

"Nothing, I was just waiting around downstairs for you guys to come back, and uh- I just heard a lot of bumps and yelling and stuff, I don't know."

"Nosy little chap, isn't he?" Freddie muttered, tying a flimsy knot in the belt.

I buttoned my pajama shirt's last button at the collar. "What's he waiting for?"

"He wanted me to sing him the full version of 'Teo.' You know, with the Japanese parts and all. Apparently he's never heard it- so I promised him if the plan worked tonight, I would sing it for him."

"He's heard it," I whispered, a bit absently.

"He has?"

"Oh, yes. Many many times." I put my hand over Freddie's. "He just doesn't remember."

"Can I come in, please?" our persistent little boy called.

One glance at the state of my bed decided that right away. "Uh- no, we're coming out," I called, opening the door just enough so Freddie and I could slip out the crack without allowing for a glimpse of the bedroom. Our faces were still glistening with sweat, but thankfully his hair and mine were still wet and curly enough to pass it all off as water from the shower.

"There you are!" he sighed. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Freddie's mouth twitched as he rubbed his neck sheepishly. "We're, uh, fine. A bit bruised from the fall, but- that's what you get for jumping on the bed, I suppose."

I stared at him- but Danny accepted the statement without question. "Yeah. I fell off the bed once cause I was jumping on it- Mom got kinda mad at me for that, remember, Mom?"

"I remember," was all I said, while Freddie smirked in quiet satisfaction. Ah, poor oblivious Danny. "I also remember that it's considerably past somebody's bedtime."

"But it's Friday!"

"It's late even for a Friday, Danny. It's going to be a very busy weekend, trust me; you need your rest, as do we all."

"Please won't you sing it first, Freddie?" he pleaded. "Real quick?"

Freddie ran his fingers through his mussed hair, smiling at the floor. "Oh, all right."

"Pushover," I whispered teasingly, which earned me an immediate nudge from the man while Danny whooped and ran down the hall to his bedroom. We watched in quiet wonder for a moment or two. Freddie himself seemed to freeze up again, his eyes deepening as they had that moment in the car as he watched the boy bound away.

"Now will you tell me what you're thinking?" I murmured.

"You already know, my dear," Freddie said quietly.

"Do I?"

"If you love me- then, yes, you do."

I was still confused, but that didn't stop me from saying, "I do love you."

"Then there's no need to explain." Freddie kissed my forehead. "I love you too, darling- I love you so much."

I wanted to put my arms around him and kiss him back, but Danny was watching us from the doorway- so I settled for a simple nose-to-nose Eskimo. Until Freddie made up his mind whether he wanted Danny to know how literally he and I had lived up to the term "lovers" all those years ago, we had agreed to keep the obvious romantic displays in secret. I didn't know what all Freddie had told him about us, but it was enough to make him smirk knowingly at us when we entered his bedroom together. I decided not to find out for certain just yet. There were enough bombs expected to detonate in a matter of hours.

But thank God for tonight. Thank God for every moment, every harsh and soft word spoken, every truth and every lie. If nothing else, Freddie and I could now speak to one another again- not as strangers, not even as mere friends- but as long-lost lovers. However much longer this would last, and whatever awaited us even as soon as tomorrow morning, from now on I would handle Freddie in one way, the only way the man deserved to be handled by anyone.

With love.