SONS OF THE FATHERS

Part 3:  Prep Time

You are my beautiful half that was separated from me as I came into this world.  It is with you, only with you, that I am whole again, and only with you that I find my completeness." He stood, pushing back the stool with his boot, then knelt in front of her.  "Joimus," he said,
taking both of her hands between his, "will you honor my life by becoming my bride?"
*****************

"He WHAT?" Ando blurted, her eyes all wide.  

 

Annsmac nodded.  

 

"But...but...but...Maximus has no...no...paperwork!!! He CAN'T get married!"  

 

"Oh, there won't be paperwork, Ando,"annsmac continued. "There's never paperwork in epis."  She shrugged.  "I mean, just how many customs agents were there when our eagle flight landed at Nana Glen?"  

 

"Oh, OK, then," Ando said, pursing her lips.  "It's just the words and stuff."  

 

"I hear there may be a lot of 'stuff'," Susan added.  "Seems Himself is flying us all back to his farm for a bit."  

 

"His farm? Why there?" Ando asked.  

 

"Some chapel he had built not far from the house.  You remember that round building with the dome?"  

 

"That? I thought it was a souvenir he brought back from Malta," Ando smirked.  

 

Annsmac rolled her eyes, then left to find Terry.  They had a busy day
before them.  No way was she going into a big wedding celebration with a still-blunt K&R agent. Surely somewhere in metro Sydney they could locate an appropriate deblunter.  Besides, how could she face Jocelyn Crowe after all this time with her man still so very blunted?  She didn't want a repeat of her former encounter with Himself's Mum regarding THAT tissue issue.

As much as she would really have liked to be part of the festivities, Bunny knew that she must find some way to keep Sid from attending Maximus' wedding.  Quietly she went to Himself, asking for help in making certain arrangements.  Then she went to meet Sid in the Water Bar. He wasn't drinking, of course, but he liked the atmosphere in there with all its sleek, modern chrome and blacks.  

 

"You find this room appealing?" she asked, walking up to him.  

 

"It's great," he replied.  "It reminds me of...me."  

 

Ah, the perfect opening through which to insert her plan.  "Will you come with me to Canberra?" she inquired, smiling brightly at him.

"Canberra? Why Canberra?"  

 

"For the baby," she continued, patting her tummy.  

 

"What has the Australian capital city got to do with Commodus?"

 

Deliberately avoiding the use of that appellation regarding her child, she said.  "It is all sleek...modern...clean...like you. I think we should expose him to such things right from the beginning."  

 

"Like me?"  

 

"Quite," she agreed, knowing she had him hooked now.  "I think you would like it there."  

 

A sudden light shown in his eyes.  "If you wish me not to attend the wedding," he smiled, "you could just...ask."  

 

"If I did, what would you say?"  

He cocked his head.  "I will think about it."

Jack stood behind Rose's chair as her pencil flew across the page.  She was designing a  dress for Joimus.  Maximus had but one request concerning it.  "Use lots of pale yellow gossamer," he'd smiled.  "It's how I think of her."  

 

Himself swallowed the last bite of his salad, watching all the activity. He had been right. Such an event was needed right about now.  Maximus seemed centered in on Joimus and both of them looked quite happy this afternoon.  Even he, Himself, felt more relaxed than he'd been since the, um, news had come out.  If only Sid didn't burn the chapel down or attempt some speech at the reception, all would go well.  

Since they would shortly be leaving Sydney for a bit, Steve had taken Laura with him on a photographic sweep of the city.  He was determined to get the perfect combined picture of the Opera House and the bridge.  He paused along the eastern curve of Farm Cove,
studying possibilities.  

 

"I think...this...right from this spot," he said, using his fingers to frame a view.  Setting up the new tripod he'd bought, he snapped several shots.  He was delighted, truly pleased, and his pleasure made Laura smile.  

 

"Come...look!" he said, indicating the camera.  

 

Putting her eye to the lens, she understood his happiness. From this spot, the harbor bridge seemed to curve entirely over the Opera House, framing its whiteness with its huge, dark arch.

  

 

"Perfect!" she agreed.  

 

Steve was standing near her, just smiling broadly at the bridge.  "See the further flag?" he asked.  She nodded. "That one's...ours."  In fact, he'd come to think of the entire bridge as their special spot.  It was, indeed, where everything had changed, had come into open acknowledgement.  There was no one else around for the moment in this part of the Gardens, so they sat closely together on a small stone wall.

 

For a long time he simply looked into her eyes.  Their blue changed from light to dark according to the brightness of the sky, and passing puffs of small clouds provided alternate shadings that fascinated his both his photographer's eye and his being as a man.  She permitted him his gaze, dropping any shields she might ordinarily have so that he could see into her mind, her heart. He leaned closer, tracing the line of her right brow with a fingertip.  Everything he thought of saying about her eyes seemed to him like some cliché and so he said nothing, only looking, then finally leaning so closely that he softly kissed one and then the other of them.  

Johnny and Mary Naxos had walked for miles around in the city, holding hands as they strolled. She just liked being with him and wasn't in any particular hurry for anything right now but getting to know him better.  Being in his company made her happy and they spoke of many things as they went, block after block.  

 

He found himself opening up to the young Greek in a way he had never
done before, telling her things that...mattered...to him.  For the first time, he described what it had been like for him that terrible night and how his life had been forever changed.  He explained how it was as though some great axe had been put to the root of his life, changing its course, sending him growing in new directions that he had never thought possible for him before.  

 

She liked the quiet maturity she found in him and hoped that, with time, she might be able to help with the sadness that still lingered about the edges of his being.  

 

They stopped for coffee and when he lay his hand atop the table, she reached out, cupping hers over it.  He had never been one to speak much of his feelings, but with Mary, he found himself searching for words, wanting to tell her of what she was coming to mean to him.  It was still difficult for him, so he simply reached out and put his other hand over hers. hey sat like that for a long time, a little island of quiet as the life of the huge city bustled along the sidewalk right behind them.

Sid and Bunny had gone outside on the apron of the Wharf, looking at the boats moored there in the marina.  "You are concerned I might... mess up...the nuptials?" he asked.

 

She nodded.  

 

He stopped walking, turning to face her. "Bunny, I WANT them to get married."  

 

"You...do?"  

 

"Most assuredly," he smiled. "It will focus the attention of our good General upon Joimus and the happy little family they are creating hopefully leaving me to tend to..mine."  

 

Her face brightened.  "I wasn't sure you would see it that way.” 

 

"Ah, but I do," he affirmed.  "He seems to feel there is some need for, um, ceremony, to prove they are together.  Probably because he knows Joimus is such a little Puritan and all,” he snorted. He looked at her levelly.  "You, on the other hand, would not need such a thing...would you?"  

 

She smiled. She had known from the very beginning that such things would never be part of a relationship with Sid. 

 

It was fine with her.  He read her reply in her eyes.  "Good!" he said.
"Let them do their little cutesy thing if they need to.  I will do nothing to stop it." He cocked his head suddenly. "Shall I send a gift?"  

 

"Um," she answered, "I think they probably have enough hand
grenades."  

 

"Is there ever enough?" he laughed, appreciating her humor, pleased at his choice of wombs. 

"A new song?" Phyllis asked, pulling a stool up near where Himself sat strumming his guitar.  

 

"I was thinking of writing one just for the wedding,” he explained. "I've really been in the mood for music since YOOK was delayed and this seemed like the perfect opportunity for a new one."  

 

"When are we going up to Nana Glen?” she inquired. 

 

"In a few days.  There are some arrangements better made whilst we are in Sydney.  I was thinking April 7th for the actual wedding."  He grinned adorably.  

 

"Because it's your birthday?" she smiled.  

 

He chuckled.  "Well, that, and just because it seems like a good day for a wedding."  In fact, his mind had been working non-stop ever since
Maximus had expressed his liking for the idea.  Phyllis well knew that it was his way.  He would think of every detail, every aspect down to the time of day that the sun would shine through the stained glass window of the chapel.  He was like that.  

 

She put her hand on his shoulder.  "I love you," she said.  

 

"I know," he laughed, affectionately pulling her close for a thorough kiss.

Wearing just his rust-colored tunic, leggings, boots, and a wide leather belt, Maximus reclined on a padded chaise longue on the western balcony of the apartment.  Joimus sat on his lap, her back resting against his chest as together they looked out across the harbor.  

 

"Dess," he said softly. "I am getting used to his name already."  

 

"He'll be here before we know it," she said more truthfully than she fully realized as epitime was about to be crunched a bit.  Indeed, the sonogram had shown her to be four and a half months along and Bunny four.  It was only thusly that the genderishness of the babes had been able to be told.  Both of the ladies being 33 and never having borne children before, had nicely tight abdominal muscles got from much cliff climbing, glacial trekking, tomb stair descending, and a bit of rapid fleeing hither and yon.  Aside from a bit of death, dismemberment, heartbreak and unbearable sorrow, epi life was quite healthful for the
most part, if one kept one's distance from the crocodiles.  

 

There was just the slightest new curve to Joimus' belly region and Maximus fondly passed his palm back and forth over it.  "I've asked Rose to make my dress drapy and a bit loose," she said.  "Even though April 7th is two weeks away, by then I may well find myself 6 or 7 months pregnant."

 

"You don't mind the pale yellow gossamer and not white?" he asked.  

 

"How could I marry my General in anything else?"

Lachlan sat in the bubbly water of the large bathtub in his room at the W, a fully-clothed Wanda between his legs.  "Someday," she said, turning to blow a handful of the bubbles into his face, "you must really let me take my clothes OFF before you pull me into the tub."  

 

Now that they were in Sydney and for the first time in years she had been able to buy more outfits, she didn't mind so much, but in the days gone by, with her one gown soaked, it had often proven, um, inconvenient when they had been forced to leave quickly from some place, especially in the winters when the gown tended to freeze to her skin.  Mississippians were not widely known for their fondness in having wet material frozen against their flesh.  If she had only been a proper Pennsylvanian, she would have thought nothing of it!  

 

Lachlan laughed, brushing the bubbles off his nose.  "He said I could fly it!" he chortled happily.  

 

"Um...fly what?" she asked.

"His plane! Himself is going to let me fly us up to Nana Glen!"  

 

"Ack!" she acked.  

 

"You acked!" he exlaimed.  "Why?"  

 

"Oh...it's just, my darling beloved Aussie airman, that you haven't flown since World War II.  Might not you be a bit...rusty?"  

 

"Of COURSE I'm Rusty!" he said, just slightly testily.  "ALL of us are Rusty or we wouldn't BE here!"

"Not that kind of rusty," she laughed.  "Rusty as in a paint can left out in the rain for several years."  

 

"You...you...think I can't fly it?" he asked, a bit taken aback.  

 

"Well, it IS a jet, isn't it?  Did you fly jets in World War II?"  

 

He narrowed his eyes, a single small bubble clinging to one lash. "Perhaps you would prefer that JohnRevolting fellow?"  

"Travolta," she corrected.  "And, no," she added, turning in the tub to face him, "there's no one I could possibly prefer to you."  Decorating his chest with little bubble blobs, she did suggest, though, "Um, perhaps a quick brush-up lesson...or two...before I board?"

He wrapped his arms about her, pulling her against his bebubbled self. "You seem already to have boarded me," he leered fetchingly.

Terry paled.  "Are you...sure?" he asked, his jaw tightening.  Annsmac had spoken for hours with the ancient Japanese woman who ran the little teahouse.  "She assures me that it is a  traditional cure that has worked for the  Samurai for centuries.  In fact, it is  well-known  that when the Last Samurai died, other than his 98 bullet wounds affecting certain bodily parts, he was not in the least...blunt." 

 

The woman whispered something to annsmac.  "She says she's not exactly sure of the condition of Tom, though."

Alas, unbeknownst to Terry and annsmac, on the other side of the paper wall sat Jeffrey and Ute, his having brought her there for a bit of reminiscing of his time in Japan.  He, of course, spoke fluent Japanese and had been trying for some time to block out the sound of the words coming all too clearly through the wall.  

 

"What's going on over there?" Ute asked.  "It sounds like annsmac."  

 

"It is," Jeffrey agreed. He looked at her, his eyes wide and even a bit shocked.  "But you won't believe what they plan to do to Terry."  

 

Ute, who spoke every other language in the world but Japanese, asked, "What?" But Jeffrey was shuddering too greatly to answer her.

 

There was a sound of people rising to their feet beyond the paper wall, then some sliding panel opened and closed again.  Everything was silent for long moments.

"What's going ON?" Ute demanded, but Jeffrey squeezed his eyes tightly shut, biting his lower lip.  Then a small sound came through the wall, starting like the low moan of a yak lost in the fog on some lonely mountaintop, gathering decibels it continued very like the desperate whinny of a broken-legged zebra surrounded on the backside of the savannah by an entire pride of hungry lionesses, finally descending into the whimper made by the last lemming as its feet leave the edge of a sheer cliff above the sea.  

 

There was a series of crashes and then Terry broke through the paper wall, falling on his back across their tea table.  Ute stared at the K&R agent, his camo streaked with sweat and tears.  Then she turned her eyes questioningly on Jeffrey.  

 

He shrugged.  "All I can say is that it involves several different sizes of bamboo."  

 

Annsmac appeared just on the other side of the wall.  "Oh, good!" she said, pleased.  "Now we can enjoy the reception."