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KOOPALINGS : THE TEENAGE YEARS

by Foxy Boy

CHAPTER V: VEILED NO MORE

Feminine grace: a trait that Wendy, more often than not, won't pursue. It didn't elude her by any means-- Her interests distanced themselves from 'tomboyish'; but her leanings were strong and assertive, rarely aiding to radiate the softspoken side of beauty.

Her present actions were an exception. Sitting cross-legged at Larry's bedside on a chair, feeding him bland, chewy food spoon by spoon as if a child or an invalid. She felt matronly - unflattering - as preoccupied with worry. She didn't see his lips close around the spoon; she could only watch his glazed eyes roll random around the room as his face sickly shined from a cold sweat. His breaths were shallow, made this way by the body tremors' worsening. She'd taken his temperature only minutes before, and it read above a stark 102. She only dared feed him applesauce or other near-liquids, not knowing if his stomach was in a shape like the rest of him. Not good to risk irritating it.

Her primped pose wasn't lost on Morie as a guard escorted him in. Noticing only her, his goofy smile told her of his thoughts, and as she rose to greet she tugged on the bottom of her shirt to appear her most modest. Nothing would be happening.

"Morie, what a surprise!", she cooed, wrapping fingers around his arms. This had her forget to some point about her 'charge'.

"I got you these", he replied a bit doofily, brandishing the bouquet he'd carried in. She accepted it, held it close to sniff deep and waved the guard away with a single motion.

"Awww, they're gorgeous", she replied. "You came all this way to gimme these?"

He laughed shyly. "It's not that far, you know it couldn't'a been more than fifteen from my place to here."

"Well you're a sweet stooge", she praised, "Even if you came at a bad time." She lost that sudden spark... Turned, and retook her seat, using one hand to continue feeding Larry while clenching the daisies tight in the other. "You can see who's sick, and I guess everybody had a silent vote to let me do all the caregiving myself."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Know, yeah it's alright. If you're here you might be able to help... Open the drawer second from the top behind you and get me a dry cloth."

Morie turned to face the chest-of-drawers, retrieved the linen from where Wendy would've struggled to reach and handed it down, leaning in to kiss her cheek as he did so. Her head was still moving, so the pucker was placed instead on her ear, causing her to mutter

"Eww", and brush away moisture with the dry part of her feeding hand.

"Sorry, not meant for there", he choked, turning red. He didn't know what got him more blushed, his mistake or her overpowering loveliness. "By the way, you, uh, look absolutely radiant. Hella-good."

"Awww, thank you!", she didn't laugh, vainly sweeping back her hair in a swift motion. Very fond of sweet words, and despite his being terminally middle-class in both style and money, he was never short on charm.

Beside her chair on the carpeted floor lay a shallow bowl filled with cold water. She reached down and dunked the cloth, taking care that it was fully soaked before bringing it up to rest on Larry's head. He was too weak for many words, but his gentle sigh as chill hit his face told her that it was some measure of relief. Turning again to handsome company, her words were soft and vaguely submissive. "I was just thinking a few moments today how nice it would be to see you again. It's been, what, two weeks since we hooked u-... Met?"

"Sounds right", he answered, more collected and at ease than when he'd first entered. "I hope you had a blast, I never got a chance to ask before we said our goodnights."

"I did", she said, smiling widely to convey the raw undercurrent. "I did say I'm open for second dates. I presume it's why you're here."

"Wow, that means our first night was a full date.", he kidded, suddenly feeling more important. "You said drop by at a sensible time, so here ya go. I'm sorry it still wound up lookin' poor, here."

"Not your fault. None of us knew any of this was going to happen."

"What, is there something else goin' on right now?"

Wendy quickly decided she didn't want that answer out. "There's always things going on around here. Look where we are."

Morie nodded. Despite that Wendy was preoccupied with bedside manner, she couldn't help but smile as she looked in his eyes. She'd been infatuated with him since that eighth day prior, when she and Haley happened upon him on a trip to the skating rink, immediately mesmerized. You could paint a robin's egg from his deep blue eyes. Likewise he was captive upon spying them, and though Wendy half-expected him to pick Haley for being voluptuous, he instead saw fit with her, accompanying the princess to a bench and conversing for well past two hours. The scars from her last fling were still fresh in-mind, but his sweet, almost innocent charms and "average-Joe" chisel had done wonders to heal them. Upon glancing at her watch to find the night near-spent... And he all the way, when they'd succeeded ducking into the men's room beyond anyone wise... She made tentative plans to bring him over at the present time. 'It was a shame', she thought, 'that my family's my world, because my world just came crashing down at one heckuva time'.

They could act this out as love, but at the time the truth was a moderate fixation, and hormones. "I wish Haley were here to see us, when you handed me those flowers. She always swore to me that she'd be the first to be someone's again, and I can't help thinking how she'd be right now. I can just see the blaze in her eyes as you tried to kiss me."

"You're cold", he laughed. "That's your best friend you're talking about."

"We're besties, Morie, get used to it.", she replied tersely. "We're always light-competitive."

"No doubt after hearing that." He paused momentarily, took one hand and began stroking Wendy's shoulder. "It's just as well she's not here. She's fine I guess, I go for brains over looks."

"Oh, so I'm ugly", Wendy flung a gutteral jab.

"No, unless you think I'm stupid", he shot back, smiling for the rare timely wit. "So she's nice and... Gifted, but best sides are just... Right there, you know? You may not look like some airbrushed pornstar, which trust me isn't something to want, but you have your act together. Come on now, what's more attractive than an wise woman."

"A rich woman, right? How can I be sure you don't date me with dollar signs?"

He smiled and shook his head. "I would never date you for anything not honourable."

"Why not? I'm dating you for your dick."

His eyes widened. "You've seen it once."

"That's why I want you over, we'll bring that digit up. After this lout's asleep, you'll be in my room with your clothes ripped off."

"You're nasty too!", he said, goodly aroused by their exchange and a sly Wendy's lips. She had always teased her boyfriends; the excitement they wore, becoming little boys in men's clothes and bodies, started her and many a woman's 'open lives'.

Larry was less amused, more conscious than she'd thought. Despite immense weakness, he slowly moved his head to face them, and uttered "Yeah, so take it in another room."

"Shhhhh, rest" Wendy ingratiated, turning the cloth on Larry's face so the cold side hit again. "Let's let him alone." She faced Morie, rose from her chair and passed the doorway, Morie following. "Come on, we'll do a quick tour. If we're seeing more of each other you'd best know your way around."

She closed the door behind them, leaving Larry to recover in the quiet she knew as therapeutic.

"Okay, you've met the main hallway," she began, holding out a hand to invite his taking it. An offer he accepted, and clutched her petite palm gently in his own. She walked him through the east wing of the first floor, all of it the family's space. "You see the seven doors that open off of it. One was originally a guest room, but when Ludwig married Esmerelda and inherited the loft it became the guest room, and the original's for storage. Nothing in it but dusty old cardboard boxes, but Ludwig's old room is really nice. Never seen a straight man so fastidious."

She stepped to the door and opened it to allow Morie's sight. Complete furnishings with a queen-size bed, end tables, bureau, vanity, dinet with three chairs, and all manner of electronics. Every piece was luxurious, every curve artistically crafted.

"If you play your cards right, who knows if this'll sleep you. Or us." Her tone went dry-humour. "So keep it in your pants. That way I know where I can get an' use it."

She lunged in, boisterous with marking his cheek, a lipstick-print for company's face. He beamed. "Th-hhanks, but I don't think I'm in the market for a new place..." His brow furrowed, feeling some type of role reversal. "Don't you think we're moving a bit fast? I mean, this is only the second time-"

"I'm pulling your leg, pancho." She thwacked his sternum. He didn't flinch, and her smirk approved. "I know, I'm overboard, but that's just me. It's not often I find a guy that I like by the second date, especially one that's so... You."

Morie calmed, chuckled, as he drew a breath to answer. "Yeah, it's cool. If you were scaring me or anything I'd tell you. Go ahead, too, and blame being nervous around you. I mean, yeah, look where we are."

This sent a wide grin running on Wendy's face. "Anyway, relax. I don't have a problem with someone a few tax brackets below me, and you don't fear for your life just thinking you might say or do something stupid. Deal?"

He squeezed her hand gently. "-Okay." was all he could think of.

"Now come on", she spouted, pulling his arm to the beginning of the hall and all but dragging him along before his shoes caught up. "A lot left to see, and you left to do."

**********************************

"So he just got smart with you and left, and isn't back yet?"

Bret's words were received by Lemmy with a rightward headcock. They, and Todd and Walt, were assembled in Lemmy's room, each of those friends taking to the floor whilst he buttpressed his bed.

"Damn", Todd supplied, playing with a loose string on the seam of his shorts. "Your brother's a head case, man."

"Tch, tell me what I haven't known forever," Lemmy answered. He leaned back and fell his head on the pillow, clapping once with a discontent sigh. The left limb came back up to point; his face stayed static towards the ceiling. "Only time he's ever not burned me or Iggy was a few days ago when Larry hit us all up. And I have it on a good hunch he was faking, tryin' look good for his protegè."

"Why not, eh?" Walt's higher voice put in. "He's Larry's fucking mentor, he prob'ly likes your little bro's guts for trying to copy him so long. If I had an idgit who looked up to me like that, I'd be cool as hell about it."

"That's just it." Bret bounced back. "Larry looks up to just about the worst in the kingdom, no offense to you, Lemmy."

"None taken. I'm right there with you about his lack shits given, how much he's fucked over on the edge. He gets his and we're all the worse for it."

"Well, he should quit gettin' his before the reaper gets him. You know that girl that used to sit by the entrance to Charlie's Pub on Grym street, a li'l boho' but just always lookin' a hot mess? She painted those leopards so realistic you'd swear they could jump out the fucking canvas?"

"Yeah, I remember that," Walt heavy-breathed. "Pants got tighter goin' by."

"I don't think that's the point, dude" Lemmy added.

Bret nodded confirmingly. "It's not. She was hooked on crack nd it got the best of her. Died from an overdose two weeks back, her face in the paper and everything."

"Shit!" Todd exclaimed, reeling. "And yesterday I was just thinkin' about... I feel like I need a shower now."

"Good idea, y' sick ass", Lemmy joked. "But damn, I'm... Glad that Dad called Roy up to the throne room for talks. Give you five to one he's in there right now havin' his sorry ass cussed out. Plus some 'sentencing' he damn well deserves... If you act like a hood rat with king Dad, he acts like the constable."

"Sounds like you respct the ways and means." Bret smirked, of better spirits now.

"Call it the one thing I really like about him. He runs a country and a family, and is fuckin' on top of both."

"Word", Todd added. "Hey, you don't have any Smirnoff or some Jager, do you? Got this toothache I've been fighting."

"If I did, I wouldn't be giving it out, sampler." Lemmy ribbed with a smile as he bolted up from the bed and slid - or oozed - to the floor. "I had you here to hang and help my mind off the heavies, not to turn up a glass. I see enough of that when Roy's around."

"Speakin' of him," Walt spoke low and grabbed at his shoulder for caution, "I think that's him outside. His shape in the hallway." He pointed out a shadowy male's move past the barely-cracked door. He and Lemmy exchanged one wide look, and the latter quietly walked up and leaned out.

"No, that's Wendy and... Some dude," he mused and leaned back in. As if on cue, Todd, Bret and Walt found their feet and followed Lemmy as he walked out there to satisfy the inner questions.

It indeed was Wendy, with Morie, heading back to her room. She stopped cold when seeing Lemmy, not one to pass up introducing her guest around. And to ignore the fire inside for how she had to, now.

"Morie, this is Lemmy, one of my six.", she spake, her eyes moving briefly over Todd, Bret and Walt. "And his friends. It's lucky you laid eyes on them, they're usually all out tearing up the city on skateboards."

"Nice, cool to meet you", Morie barely didn't stutter.

"Yeah, same here.", Lemmy replied, no desire to.

"Hi", was all the other three had to contribute.

Wendy continued with a moment's pause. "Well, you've seen most of our part of the castle now, and I've got to get back to Larry's room and make sure he hasn't died on me." Excuses. "-Unless you'd like to stay for maybe a late dinner." More of the same.

Unwittingly she edged up closer to Morie. He edged back.

"That's really nice of you, but, uh, I have to get home. It's late and if I drive in at, like now, they sicc the cops."

"Oh... Well, if you must, I understand." In her voice, a great deal of disappointment. "Lunch tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll see if that's good. Thanks. Bye." He'd already started walking away; several seconds forward he was 'round the corner, out of sight.

Wendy sighed as Lemmy slowly strolled up to her. "He got in a hurry," she almost whined. "I'd just showed him around, I figured he'd at least wanna stay after."

Lemmy leaned into Wendy's ear and did his best impression of Iggy. "I believe it was Mae West who said 'Everywhere around the world, there are strong women looking for weak men to dominate them'."

Wendy's burning scowl faced him down. "That's not funny for two reasons, and don't make me tell you what they are. In front of your young riders' group."

"Oh wake up, sis", Lemmy jokingly prodded. "I saw you two together for the count of fifteen and I already knew you led him around like a puppy on a leash."

"Well, I thought he had plenty of space." She huffed, impatient with his intuition.

"Hey", Todd interrupted, "This looks like a bad time to be a third wheel, so we'll just let ourselves out."

Lemmy nodded. "Alright, peace out, guys" He waved lazily. Bret and Walt murmured "Bye" and departed.

Wendy waited to be alone with Lemmy to continue. "As if I care, but you really think I come on like that?"

"There's a hell-to-the-yeah. I'm surprised you didn't chain him to the floor to keep him here. Or for ideas."

She grunted coldly and tapped his brow with acrylic nails; he winced a bit and she stormed back down the hallway into Larry's room, him following. "Oh c'mon, sis, take a harmless joke."

"It's not that and I think you know it," she scolded as they reached the door together. She opened it quietly and peeked in, relieved to see Larry sleep soundly.

"Yeah, I do know," Lemmy came back in frustration. "But a laugh never hurt."

"Neither did a little respect, for my heart and his condition right now. I don't think it's right to be yakking it up while he's passing the time trying not to feel like dying, or wanting to."

Lemmy sighed. "Look, my bad, alright? No more and that's a promise. Last thing I'll say is that 'tacky' takes a lot of forms, you brought that strange in here. Mouth and case closed."

Wendy wrinkled her nose, but slowly closed the door and started down the hall, Lemmy beside. "Apology accepted... Still I'm anxious about Larry, blame that for a little hunting. I'd do anything to stop my mind. God knows what'll happen to Roy because of this, Daddy won't let him go without conjuring up some overdone pain."

"I don't think any hell Roy's headed for could be overdone. Dad needs to crack down or this shit will stay trending."

Wendy turned away from him impatiently. "Go ahead, side with him. When he isn't mad at you there's not a wrong he ever does."

"Hey, I'm lookin' at the big picture," Lemmy stemmed her accusation. "What if Larry doesn't get better? What if he has brain damage, or a weak heart, or all kinds of horrible health eddies and shit because of trying to fight this? What if... If he dies? Or worse, what if he mends fine and then the dust, and smack, and whatever the hell else Roy gave him down just pulls him back in? They're like nets and he's a fish. Pray he doesn't drift."

Wendy's eyes misted, and her reply shook her. "He won't do that. He's been through enough to never touch-"

"-We don't know that. They call it addiction for a reason, sis. When you fight it, once you try, it'll do whatever the fuck it can, physical, mental, emotional, makin' you get right back on it. Why do you think I never started smoking when every peer in school was? I saw through the bull, not to become sick and down the road a statistic."

She held back the tears. Much as she knew Lemmy was right, she didn't want to agree... Almost as if concurring would somehow make it more real.

Seeing that she was too broken up to field this, he went on much more softly. "Look", he soothed while rubbing her cheek in attempts to console her, "It can't not be hard to see him like this, and it's darker shit to accept why and whose fault, but we'll get through it. I know you're strong for him and me, Dad and everyone else; you've always reached that, as long as I've been old enough to understand."

She nodded, breathing deep and reassured. "I'll be alright", she finally said, the strength back to her feminine voice. "I won't take it so hard if it didn't happen all at once."

"And, if you had a pair of strong arms here, I'll bet", he tried to break the moodiness. "It's cute. He was here, and how you hold yourself different, you're... You're a condor. It's cute."

"I... Guess?" she laughed, called out by that on-the-nose factoid. She blinked to rid her eyes of misted tears, allowed herself another short laugh. "Look at me, I can point an RPG straight at Mario's blocked arteries but can't say no to despair. Forget that plumber, I'm my own worst enemy."

"Got that right," Lemmy snorted, cracking a smile. "You beat yourself up over other clowns' faults. Yours are the worst sympathy pains this side of... Shit, everyone's."

She was about to reply when she glimpsed a tall silhouette out her eye's corner, walking slowly down the hall. Looking over, she shone.

"Roy!" she exclaimed, running up and prepped to hug him tightly. She cancelled this when she realized he stared straight down at the floor, preoccupied.

"What's the matter?" she asked sweet, trying for his best side in case this sad turn came with anger. He glanced up only a smidge before walking right by her and Lemmy. He moped to his room almost ceremoniously; this action they took as a sign they should follow.

As they filled the doorway, confused at his ignoring them and helpless to remedy his state, he did something that took them near to the point of shock.

He knelt down - on the floor no less - clasped his hands and bowed his head.

Somewhat aware of his actions, they waited for his rising to speak. "Roy?", Wendy finally said, though he stayed inexplicably on the floor, knees up, twiddling his thumbs, staring intently at nothing. "I've never seen you... Do that."

Roy turned slowly to face her, his shades off, a look in his eyes like ice and blaze together... Then, away again, the look of loss. "I was prayin' for protection", he answered. Words was dour, monotone, devoid of all joy.

"F-from what?", she prodded, fearing what the answer might be.

He sniffled, something even more rare for him than prayer. "Dad called me up to talk out what happened tonight. For him to talk."

"I know, Lemmy told me." she answered. The slight jab in her side from Lemmy's knuckles said that now was not the time.

"And he..." Roy paused to gather nerve and composure, jerked his head low. "... He gave me the worst rap. I'm done from this, fuckin' done."

They waited for the finish, but he had trouble doing so. "What did he say?", Lemmy courageously queried.

Roy seemed to have waited for that, and for the first time in years, he took those sunglasses and cast them with force to the carpet, bouncing them up and from the wall, knocking out the left lens. Didn't even bat an eyelash. "He said I won't need these anymore where I'mma be. He's enlisting me in the army, and after boot camp I'm gettin' bumped up right then to elite cadet status, without pay. I''ll be on the front lines three months, not a dime to show for it, even if we go to war. And the way he chewed the fat about Mario and the Mushroom-fags right before he sent me out, it's soundin' like we will."

************************************

The front door squeaked as it shut beind Morton. Life in this apartment was a constant lesson in patience with substandard materials, and he'd never been fond of the quirks, things the more easygoing Tom termed "personality". Sighing and mentally exhausted, he shuffled into the living room, facing a welcome and relaxing sight: his other half happily shelved on the couch snacking on chips to the glow of an old black-and-white movie. Tom looked up at him and smiled, open to his lover's troubles as the latter descended on the couch beside him and removed swampy tennishoes.

"You've been out a while", Tom started, putting arm around Morton. "I was *this* close to worrying."

"Yeah, sorry," the Koopaling replied. "When I got a hold of Larry earlier and he told me what's gone down, I figured they could use a hand. Ended up that I kinda saving Roy's ass mono-style. Me and my heat, that is." He pulled the Magnum out his jeans' back pocket, carefully brandished so Tom could see the powder marks where it had been fired. The smell remained: acrid gunpowder.

"Morton", Tom stuttered, "You didn't..."

"Nahh, I didn't kill a soul. Hell, I didn't even injure. Fired it over the guy's head and he froze like Ice Land in January."

"I assume by 'the guy', you mean whoever gave Roy a hard time?" He kept a level head, concerned but curious. "I heard some of what you were on to with Larry over the phone before you skipped out, but I didn't catch the name, if you knew."

"All too well. It's a long story, though, I'll hash it out later." Having untied and removed both shoes, he leaned over and reciprocated Tom's embrace with his own, wrapping tender on his statuesque mate. "I need some Grade-A relax time. Shooting a lethal weapon over a guy's hairline kinda brings the need to turn off the world a while."

"I'm sure. So Roy got home okay?" His hand skimmed Morton's neck, fingertip-pressure on the points he knew would love this from experience.

"Mmm... Yeah, if you could call his whole condition 'okay'. He was out of his effin' noggin on all you could name, so bad he collapsed. Lemmy had to stay by him while Wendy and Larry lured the guy away. And all that before I even showed up. But, he's in safety now, after I sent the gourd-shape fucker packing."

"Doin' a little bragging, huh." Tom teased. Morton didn't deny it.

"I think it's to be proud of. Not every day you get to save a life. And guess what else?"

"I can't even start to. Something else go wrong?"

"Nice guess. Larry started cramping really bad - pang-gripes - and by the time we got him back home we had to carry him to his bed and pretty much tuck him in. He'll be in a bad spot for long enough." He paused; Tom's fingers worked miracles, the goosebumps hit the ends of each limb, but for a prince a million miles off in thought. "I can only speculate how Dad's taken this. He IS sure to blow his top in classic psycho style... Good-for nothing blowhard. I swear if I ever get put up to him again, I'll wrap these hands so tight around his fat neck he-"

"Whoa, hon', you're getting riled up. Relax, remember?" The emotion of Tom's voice quenched the fire in Mort's belly. "Put it aside. You haven't seen him at all, and when would it happen? Don't borrow trouble."

Morton shook his head. "I wish for a day that easy. But the damage of his over the years... I get started on it, and can't stop until I sleep or drink, one."

"Mhmm... So... You just wanna rest, then?" His fingers, which had before been at Morton's spine, curled lower and massaged the hero of the day.

Morton puffed air at the pleasure of his lover's making. "P-probably. Even besides the hate for King Bullturds, there was just so much chaos today I need some kind of down-time to shed it."

His masculine admirer placed his other hand on the shoulder opposite from the first and worked tension out from Morton's neck and upper back; contented groans were paid him. "If this goes where I think..." Morton asserted slyly, "Who the hell needs sleep."

Tom grinned wide and leaned all the way on Morton, holding him with both arms and his face inches from his partner's. "Hit your anti-snooze button, sleep's not welcome here." He leaned down the remaining distance to his lover's face and placed a long kiss upon his lips.

Morton, beaming with newfound verve, reached down to Tom's shirttail and illicitly pulled it overhead, revealing the killer abs that both work and working out afforded him. Staring on them with the obvious in mind, he moaned as Tom slowly stripped him of his own top.

"C'mon, love-" Morton expressed longingly, "-Take me~"

Their lips locked. Tom's tongue in his man's mouth augmented his reaching to undo Morton's fly. The latter swirled his own around that mouth-snake while Tom's strong hand gripped Morton's trousers, pulling them down to ankles and allowing that he kick them off and to the floor. By now, Morton had gotten Tom's shorts down as well, as they too were cast aside; the submissive prince lifted legs and threw his mate a come-hither stare. Tom's now-aired-out member throbbed, and Morton groaned like a bitch as the full seven pushed into his waiting hole.

A fifteen-minute quickie, where they locked into passion, deep tongue throughout with Tom fondling his lover's thick-six and golf-sized balls. Finally, Morton's groans and their elevating told Tom he was up to climax, and the motions sped on much to shared delight. As he closed eyes to send it home, Mort felt his partner rest head upside down on his chest. This warning had the sweat from that scalp brush his chest trail; he yelled out as that member shot thick loads of cum into Tom's face, the koopa stud catching most with his tongue while enjoying the bit that missed in favour of his nose and cheeks. Morton had just gave up his last jet when his lover's own moment arose, and with ass clenched he came to be filled, Tom scooping in with the generous loads. As the orgasm ramped down, the rolls went fainter, Tom dismounted gently and the two began the swell task of cleanup, grins wide as Tom licked Morton's cum off his member, belly and his own fingers. After they'd removed all trace of their game, Tom sat again on the couch, pulling Morton close and Frenching the taker.

"Atta-hoss", Morton softly cooed, now very much relaxed. "You're king of this land in my book."

Tom laughed and planted another kiss on his love's forehead; then put a thumb to the area and slid a swatch of semen, 'marking' it. "And you're all the subjects I need."

Had either the lucid state to notice things apart from each other, they'd have seen the small shadow that met the floor before them, its light source the wee kitchen window. Moonlight, blocked by a figure, of shortness and pointed hood. He turned to leave his spying perch; the few stars that shone on this city shone also from his thick specs, to complement a sneer so vile.

********************************

"Mo'zer of God! "

Ludwig's voice rattled the bathroom tile. His cheek, which had been white with shaving foam, now had a quickly-growing red spot. Esmerelda, in the kitchen prepping a simple dinner, grunted in disease as she met the closed bathroom door. Her husband didn't have to see her face, but saw the interruption of light at the threshold. He knew then how audible he was.

"I'm sorry, love", he went sincerely, "It sometimes slips my mind your family's Catholic."

"Don't take her name in vain, but moreover, don't alarm me like so. Your forebears just come out of you.", she scolded, traipsing past the door for further rooms. His greatest errs concerned restraint, and he wished often to rid himself of the vitriol. He also wished he didn't find it just the least bit amusing when she voiced her cares with that dainty instructionism.

"Are you in ze bedroom?", he asked meekly, while applying the common remedy of a tissue and a wet washcloth. "I thought zat roast needs constant vatching."

"Only in another hour, when the juices reach stew-temperature. I'm retrieving my oven mitts anyway."

"Vy do you keep mitts in ze bedroom? I think you told me once, but I forgot."

She wrinkled her nose; it kept the eyes from clouding. "They were a gift, remember? My great-grandmother's, to me on my fifth birthday, The last exchange we had... Last I spoke to her before she lost her battle with osteoporosis."

"Ah, I remember now." It dawned on him what he might've done just then; his mode from thereon was one of even greater tenderness. "I'll always lament zat I never got to meet her. Every znippet you have regarding her, it's alvays endearing."

"... Awww, honestly?" Her voice was now lush, and Ludwig smiled, less for the 'quick save' than to know her happiness.

"Indeed. I have yet to find a single v'one of your kin unloveable. You vere lucky to come up by zem."

He emerged from the bathroom in boxers with a clean shave and a facial bandage. As Esmerelda passed him, towards the kitchen with the mitts, she covered her lips to hide a certain grin.

"I saw zat", Ludwig joked dryly. "Surely you've done zis to your legs."

"When I did, a dress covered it", she shouted back from the kitchen, some giggles getting through to him. "That's one luxury we won't be buying you."

"Vell, you could, but I vouldn't vear it." The sardonic reply was followed by more giggles; then, ringing of the living room phone.

"I wonder who...?", Esmerelda started, emerging from the kitchen to see her husband pick it up. "Did you expect a ca-" She cut short a second time, in her mitts while he was already on it, talking.

"Yes, zis is him. Oh... Hi Larry, it didn't zound like you... Vy didn't you just come upstairs?... It's zat bad? Vell, yes, but... Are zey taking care of you?... I see. I'll have to get her something for ze trouble... No, I'm not saying you're trouble."

He rubbed his temples, still either listening or explaining. Esmerelda heaved a sigh of relief; for Larry it seemed a friendly call, the stress came from his way about things.

"So, vere you calling to update? ...Oh... He did... Uh-huh... Okay, I'll be right down."

He all-but dropped the phone back on its cradle, smile quickly fading. "What did he say?" Esmerelda pressed, wasting no time. "Bad tidings?"

"I don't know yet", Ludwig replied, swiftly heading into the bedroom to get dressed. "He said zat Dad vants me in his quarters ASAP. Something about a favour he vants of me." His eyes rolled, or rather tumbled. "It can't ever be direct vith him. Just come up himself sometime, vy doesn't he."

"You couldn't ask that it wait until tomorrow?" Disappointment in her voice was over-apparent. "It's after nine, and dinner's due to be done directly. I saved a bottle of '86 French Bordeaux from our reception, I thought it a perfect fit for the meal."

"I'm sure it is. Believe me, darling, I vant like hell to tell Dad it's a bad time. But I hope you never have to see him get a 'no'."

"Well, I know most of him, I can imagine." she conceded. "But why won't he send a servant up to summon you, or call you himself? Odd that Larry would be the messenger, it... Doesn't add up."

"It may be zat he found out before he vas meant to, IF he vas meant to. He also sounded like he knew something he didn't vant to say."

In the course of their short conversation, he'd practically thrown on an undershirt and a pair of slacks... Close to heading out the door, when Esmerelda stopped him.

"So I don't get a kiss me goodbye?"

He turned to see her lips tremble, a giant sign she was troubled. Never had he seen her upset without also seeing that. His fever-paced focus he lost; walked up to her slowly, wrapped himself on her petite frame and planted one smooch, deep as his regret for going.

"I'll not be long", he promised straight into her eyes.

"Better not be." She lobbed sharply. "If this roast comes out while you're gone I'll invite Roy to help polish it off instead."

"Ugh, don't even say zat", he replied. "Unless you vant half our silver to go missing."

He stamped another, lesser kiss on her lips, gently released his hold on her, turned to leave. She followed him to the door, held its frame with her svelte hand, leaning only as far as was ladylike. He waved goodbye, and didn't view her next brainchild, the profound worry manifesting.

To be continued...