PG 17
Mick/Beth/Josef
As usual, I don't own any of the original characters or story of Moonlight. I just love writing about them and the possibilities that could have happened in subsequent Seasons. Envisions Mick and Beth as having two children: Elliott, hybrid human; and Collie, hybrid vampire. Josef and Simone have also had a child, Charles "Spike" Kostan, hybrid vampire.
Brothers in Arms and Somewhere in Time are two entwined stories but are under separate titles. It will help to read several of my previous stories: Two Weddings and a Vampire Funeral, Standing Stones and Christmas in Aspen 2018. They are all connected to each other and eventually will be called the Moonlight Family Chronicles. I just write them in the wrong chronological order. Sorry about that but somehow everything always works out. Don't ask me how. They just do.
If you are familiar with the music of the Dire Straits, listen to their album Brothers in Arms while reading this. You'll soon have the mood of the story.
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They were in the fight for their lives as were all the others around them. Sword against sword, claymores splitting heads like soft gourds, dirks slitting throats of the wounded, arrows whirring through the air, drums pounding. The din of battle was bad but nothing was as horrible as the smell. That coppery smell of blood along with sweat and fear combining with the loosening of the bowels created the stench of death.
Mick took this all in as he was heaving his body to the right to fend off his attacker. His sweat was pouring out, rolling down into eyes stinging with his own acidity; his body automatically knowing which way to parry but still being caught by an attacker. His damn beard was being clutched at by the dying man he had just blindly jabbed near the heart.
"Mick." A gurgling sound came out of the man's mouth. "How … dying …?"
"Josef? No man, no. You can't. We can't. Not this way."
But the body was still beside him. And there they lay, amidst all the gore, friends for life … and now death.
He was wearing an English soldier's lobster red jacket, Mick thought. How was I to have known, in that instant before plunging the dirk, that it was Josef?
He sat there for what seemed hours. Fires were stoked, burning bodies adding to the charnel house smell. Men would come by, ready to loot. But one look at Mick, fiercely holding that limp body to his own chest, and they backed away. Seeing a ghost, more like it, they'd mutter.
Until the Lieutenant stopped. "Where's your colors, man? Insignia? Who's your clansmen, barbarian?" By then he could see the red jacket also. "Are you responsible for this Officer's death?"
Getting no response, but not cowed like the looters, the Sergeant at arms is called over. "Take this man into custody and find out who this Officer belonged to. Do any of you recognize him?"
Getting a negative response, he muses "Well, whomever he was, this poor soul will pay just as dearly as are all his kinsman. In fact, he'll be hanging by morning."
Which was fine by Mick.
They tried to separate the two but Mick would have none of it. He actually willed them to kill him, too, but that's not the English way. No, they wanted him to suffer! As if killing his best friend was not punishment enough. But they didn't know that and wouldn't care anyway. So he kept silent and just continued to hold the body as he was walked to a barn. There were others there, too. All looking ready to die. Many well on their way from wounds or just plain despair.
"Alrights, now, we've been patient-like with you, just like the leftinnant said to be but we's got to find out who this man be so's we can get proper notification to his people. So, be a good boy, and lets us just have a looksee at his papers."
What the hell, thought Mick. Good luck finding anything on Josef. Mick didn't even know Josef's real name, much less his country of birth or as it were, death.
"Hey, now, there's nuttin' there. Whod you do with them papers, blackbeard? Say, the way you been carrying on about him, you'se must have known him, eh?"
Mick didn't think he could do it, speak that is, his throat was so dry but he croaked out, 'brother'.
"Eh, whots that? Well, ain't that some ting pitiful. Boys on the opposite sides." Looking crafty, the Sergeant says, "so what's 'is name and why ain't you got any papers neither?"
Now Mick was starting to finally realize his own situation and one thing he knew was he better figure out a way to them out of this killing field. Hmn. He cleared his throat and asked for some water. Just how to con an English soldier?
"He was Lord Josef St. John and I am his half brother, Mick. We were traveling from France, until two months ago, when I was kidnapped and held for ransom. They finally released me today, just as the battle began, and only after he agreed to put down his arms. That's when he was killed by these savages."
"Well, now, you talk pretty when ye wants, don't ye?"
The jailer, Bogle, was a low life. Neither truly English nor Scots but definitely corrupt, so Mick figured he must have something the man would want. What could he trade for his life? For indeed, the need to survive had just surfaced the same time he realized Josef's body wasn't getting cold.
In fact, a thready pulse told Mick so much. By hugging him close all this time, Mick had kept Josef alive. But that wasn't enough, he had to get them out of here. Somewhere safe where he could take the proper measures for healing a knife wound near the heart.
Now what would it take? He had sent the Sergeant off to his commanding officer, to ask what to do with them. Obviously no one knew what to do. They were mopping up after what looked like a great battle. Mick still didn't know where they were or what battle this was, but he had his suspicions.
Culloden. Scene of the blood bath that was the death of the proud Scottish Clans, Catholic supporters of "Bonny Prince Charlie." Judging from the almost unintelligible Scots' burr and the various dialects of English, besides the uniforms and weapons, he was almost sure.
But how did they get here? And the even bigger question, how did they become human again?
Just then his stomach growled, and he looked at his watch. Then he knew what Bogle would want.
They were, indeed, in Scotland but at an extremely volatile time. Now with a full belly, and more food stashed in the cart along with Josef, thanks to the shifty-eyed but much richer jailer, Mick felt better. Gold always does the trick. And he didn't even have to give away the whole thing. After all what would Bogle do with a timepiece that gave the time in six different zones around the world and was good underwater to a fathom?
More like fathoms up to the sky. That's it, that's what it felt like when they were swept off the ship. Like swimming in the air. And then, poof. Just dropped on their asses right in the middle of one of the world's greatest battles. Grudgingly, he admitted it could have been worse. Like being dropped onto the D-day beach or a Jap prison camp in the war. Or … yeah, leave it at that. Still he wondered. Who had the power to do this to them?
Josef groaned. White-faced and dehydrated besides and along with his other wounds, he still clung to life. Good man. Mick had boiled some water and cleaned the wound. Infection would be the biggest problem.
Bogle told Mick how to get to a safe house, eventually to the highlands. He even wrangled an official pass from the Lieutenant, gladly giving one to have him and the body out of his hair. Of course, he was told they were heading for the coast to board a France bound ship. Which actually would have been a good idea except that Mick knew Josef wouldn't survive that trip. In fact, he wasn't sure he could keep him alive anyway.
But he would give it his all. And gradually, if they were lucky, they could make it to the Stones.
One eye opened. Ow. It closed once again, its owner thinking to just go back to sleep. But then what adrenaline left in this body shocked him wide awake.
Protect … Protect …. Protect yourself before Mick can get that knife in. With a start, Josef sat up. Sweat was pouring off his body, wrapped up in what surely would have been enough hay and covers to cook an egg. Or his goose. Where was he? And why was he as weak as the proverbial kitten? It was richly warm and dark inside wherever he was, but the cracks in the what he figured must be a shed spread light. Oddly he didn't cringe.
In fact, he finally recognized that somehow he must be human again. Christ, he hated being mortal. It hurts too damn much. He probed and found a freshly dressed wound in his chest. And it was oozing some kind of green gunk right through the cloth. So I'm either gangrenous which he doubted or somebody put something weird and mossy on it.
I wonder if she's a lovely nurse? He always liked the doctor game. So many areas to probe … wait, voices coming near. His heart, or what was left of it, gave a lurch. No females. Just rough men with Scots brogue as thick as his tongue felt from lack of fluids. He slid under the hay, hoping he wouldn't have to sneeze. Or breathe.
"Where'd ye say ta other one be?" Josef had heard that voice before but he couldn't place it.
"Trussed up like a Sunday chicken, and laid out for the Corbies' dinner. They likes the eyes first. He'll be screamin' for his mam."
Josef shuddered. He wondered who the poor guy was out there. But he had to still worry about himself. Did they know about him? Who had brought him here?
Christ, Josef cursed again. I hate being human.
Mick was dreaming of Beth. They were playing a sex game where he was tied up and she was kissing his eyelids. But these kisses were hurting. Ouch. Lay off, you tigress, or I'll have to break my bonds to stop that pecking.
Pecking. Now Mick was fully awake and aware. He gave the birds on his face a good old blast of his best scream while throwing his head back and forth. That seemed to shake them off temporarily but they'd be back. He twisted and turned but that did him little good as he was tied down against a fencepost. Damn it to hell, Bogle had turned on him.
He should have known not to trust anyone. Man, as a vampire, that was always a given. But when he's human, well, he seems to forget that one. Now he's led not only Josef, but himself to their deaths. Hah. What he wouldn't give to be vampire again, just for five minutes. Mick never thought he'd say that again since throughout the years with Beth, he had come to accept himself and his twin natures. He had even come to like, even love some of his abilities. Like his incredible vertical jump, his keen sense of smell, that ability to heal and the strength. Especially the strength.
There was a shadow over him, cooling him like a shade tree. Then a hard snap and one or more bird's lives were cut short. It was a man. Someone was there.
Mick had been afraid to open his eyes lest he see a bird as his last sight. But as he tried to open them, all he saw was darkness. The damn birds had plucked out his eyes. Funny, he hadn't felt more than a tap, tap, tap. Hey, let's be philosophical about this: if he lived, he can always become a blind beggar. Get a license, make a living. "You're losing it, Mick." Did he just say that out loud?
"Mick, get the lead out. Tear off that blindfold and let's book. No telling when those local yokels will be back. Oh, and I've got dinner."
"So why are we going to the standing stones, Mick?" Josef said as he was licking his lips and discarding the leftover bones of the squirrel.
"You got any better ideas? I'm all ears." Now that they were both safe again, Mick was grumpy. Josef was in high spirits but somehow Mick felt out of sorts. Maybe it was the near brushes with death, or if he really had to admit it, Josef's coming to his rescue was the thing that stuck in his craw. Weird expression, hey, must be getting philosophical again.
"Earth to Mick. You still going on about that blind beggar thing? That would have been something to see. Me, I could become a troubadour and sing and tell stories for my dinner. We could make it in this world pretty fast, old buddy. And the ladies, my, oh my. We'd have their petticoats up and …"
"We're married."
"Not to each other, thank goodness. And what does that have to do with the price of tea in China? We're here. We may be stuck here for the rest of our lives. This going on about traveling through the stones again. The first time took you to the 1950's and me. What happens if you have a stray thought again and we wind up in ancient Rome? Actually that sounds fun. Let's do that. I like it."
"How do you do that, man? Just up and forget about the families left behind. What about Simone who has given up her life for you? And the kids and grandchildren? Everyone must be frantic wondering where we are. Doesn't that bother you?"
"Hey, catch me a break here, family man. I've been an opportunistic vampire a lot longer than I was ever human. So, yeah, I would miss them. You know, Wolfie's got a new tooth coming out soon and he still believes in the tooth fairy!" Josef grins.
"But I'm a pragmatist. The chances are slim we'll even get out of Scotland, much less be reunited with the families. So, yeah, let's try to go back, er, forward to the stones, but if it doesn't work, we'll just have to figure something else out. Hey, I know. We can find me! I must be getting born about now."
Traveling slowly by night (wishing for their vampire night sight more than once) and hiding by day, the two gradually made their way towards Inverness. Or what would eventually become that city. It was now mostly a couple of churches, less than a hundred thatched or brick houses, barns, cows and chickens and the occasional privy. Both longed for a hot shower and a warm, comfortable bed. Preferably with another warm female body in it.
Mick dreamed of Beth all the time. Her blonde hair as she used to wear it, pulled up into a chignon or even a ponytail during the day but at night, he would pull it down and breathe in the wonderful smell of English tea roses and eau de Beth. God, he ached for her. This human body craved sex just as much, maybe more, than his vampire one ever did. He was waking up with full erections and avoiding Josef in the mornings. Not that Josef would have minded an encounter being a polymorphic to his soul. Just to relieve the pressure, of course. But Mick was just not into it. And so he would suffer and wait for the night to dream again of her.
Craig Na Dun. Finally they were here. Josef scouted the area while Mick went up to the biggest Monolith. He was sure this was the same place only the last time he had seen it was what? Five centuries in the future! Holy Mother of God, this was twisted.
And how did he get the stones to open up? They had quietly enquired among the friendlies what time of year it was. It appeared that they had just missed a fall solstice. It was now coming winter. If they couldn't figure out how to activate them soon, it looked as if they were going to have to sing for their suppers after all. At least until the stones opened for business again.
Several months later, Josef's Tavern, the Crock & Bull, was open for business every day at noon until midnight. Soldiers came in wanting a pint and looking for a bit of a toss. Farmers with their wives ate the sausages and had a draft of ale before going home for a nap. Those cows, pigs and goats needed tending early and late but mid day was a time to relax and enjoy. After all, they supplied most of the food served at the establishment. By special arrangement with the owner, of course.
Mick pondered how his buddy did it. Josef was surely gifted at creating money out of thin air. All it took was a couple of bets and they had their seed money. The women of the area all seemed to somehow know there was a new connoisseur in town. Mick laughed. Maybe Josef should change his name to Casanova. The most beautiful streamed into Inverness and somehow all had been "tested" to make sure their wares were premium. Mick had been sorely tempted, especially by a red-head that reminded him of a freshie he had enjoyed in the 80's. But he had resisted. Josef laughed at him, made jokes about being celibate, but he didn't care. There was only one woman for him. Maybe if it looked like they'd never be able to leave this time, he'd come around. But he was the marrying kind. Always had been, always would be.
"Mick, my man! Hurry up with that pint, would ya? I gots me a thirst and only a quick stop then I'm back on the road. Christmas is just around the corner, and I've gots to get me some finery for my lady." With a wink at Mick, and a coin flipped into the jar, the man was off.
"Christmas already?" Mick's thoughts were on the grandchildren. What would they be asking for this year? He remembered the year they were in Aspen and had Jeff pose as Santa Claus, Collie almost stole a Rescue dog while he and Elliott "found" Thor. And he had given Beth his mother's ring. I wonder if she's still wearing it or does she think she's a widow?
He was not dreaming about Beth anymore. Why not? She must be dead.
So why don't I feel any emptiness, thought Mick? And why does that red-head keep showing up in my dreams instead. There's something about her. The smile! That was it. She has Beth's smile and wide open face.
But she is not Beth. And he would not succumb to her charms.
Besides, they were going home in less than a fortnight. Word was that the stones would start singing again soon and then he'd at least be in the same century with her again. His Beth.
He fell back to sleep but no matter how hard he tried to shift the dream, there she was. The red-head. And she was calling to him, "Mick, my love, it's me! Don't you know me?" And then he was kissing her. She had the same sweet mouth, just made for him. The old song, 'Kisses sweeter than wine'. That was her. But it couldn't be, she wasn't real.
Still he couldn't stop. The kisses started getting torrid. He wanted her now, right here and now. And he didn't think he could stop at just once. Why should they? They were married, they could do this forever. He had never felt so unrestrained. He pumped into her again and again, finally spilling his hot seed into her. "Let's make a baby again."
"Sounds good to me, lovey, but I've got to have a ring on me finger first."
They had gone to the stones time after time. Nothing. Mick was afraid that he had been very wrong in thinking this was the way out.
Maybe it was only because of Beth's belief in time travel that had enabled them originally to travel through. Beth and maybe Collie were the only ones, the only true time travelers. He wondered for the thousandth time the why of being here. But it just gave him a headache anymore.
Josef had made arrangements but had hedged his bets. If they left, and were never seen again, a local by the name of Davey Crocker, Josef's "night manager" would put the sum of 100 pounds into a bank account in Josef's name. He could well afford this as the tavern and its associated businesses were thriving. The formal agreement had been notarized by no less than the Hon. Ned Gowan, a traveling lawyer, who specialized in making sure everything was done by the English laws. He would see to all the details while pocketing a small fortune. So every day for a week before, during, and after the current solstice, Mick and Josef went up the hill at sunrise and every day down they came.
And waiting for them every day was Holly, now starting to show. Josef thought it was hilarious but carefully did not let his feelings show because as always, Mick scowled at her. Still that didn't stop him from sharing a bed with her every night. He couldn't seem to stay away from her. And it seemed as though every day, she was becoming more and more like Beth. Yesterday her laugh. Today he swore he smelled tea roses.
He was going mad.
The mid wife was shaking her head and wringing her hands. "It's not looking good for yer wife, sir. She's gonna lose the babe and mebbe her own life. An there's naught to be done about it. I've done me best."
"Get the hell out of my house, you ignorant woman."
"Mick. Mick." Josef was all steadiness now while Mick was a wreck. "Just calm down. The woman doesn't have the knowledge. Better that she go. Why, what with your basic medical training, you can handle this better than she could anyway."
"But it's a breach birth."
"So?"
"I'll have to do a Caesarian. I've never done one before. She could still die from blood loss or any number of other complications."
"But the kid will live?"
"Yes, probably."
"Then let's get to it. What do you need? I take it we'll need boiling water? That's always a requirement. What else? Mick? Come on, man. Not now. Later you can brood about death."
"Josef, you're an asshole. She's going to die. Women and children died all the time in this century, you know?"
"And so will we since we don't seem to be able to leave. But what the hell, let's do our damnedest to save someone. Now, what do we need?"
"Boil all the knives, needles and if you can find some kind of a clamp, that, too. And lots of catgut for stitches. This won't be pretty but it may just work."
"That's my boy."
Beth moaned. Someone was hurting her. She passed out.
When she woke again, she groggily said, "I guess I should have been more specific about the pain entering a new body, Loki."
"What was that, Holly?" Mick looked to Josef. "She just call me Loki?"
"She's delirious. Listen, what do I do now, Mick? You've cut the chord ages ago and still the screaming. What else can I do to get this kid to settle down?"
"Put her right at her mother's breast where she can keep warm and maybe the colostrom – pre breast milk – will start to flow. Poor girl, she's all tuckered out from the great journey out of the womb. She'll sleep now."
"And Holly?"
"I thought I lost her. For a couple of minutes, I could have sworn she was dead. No pulse. Then all of a sudden, she pinked up and started talking. Amazing."
"Well, that was quite a trick. And speaking of tricks, how'd you do it, man?"
"Do what?"
"You mean you can't smell them? I've noticed it ever since the baby was born. You really didn't notice it?"
And sure enough, Mick caught the smell. In a room that should have reeked of burning oil and blood, instead it was like the blooms of a thousand English tea roses.
Beth was coming around again. Something was rooting at her breast and she automatically adjusted herself to the tiny lips. The mouth greedily started sucking, giving her a startling sensation all the way down to her toes. It was a feeling she hadn't had for such a long time … since James Michael's birth.
But added to that was pain, oh, so much pain. She remembered cramping after her second and third births but this was more than the uterus refitting itself. No, this was a sharpness of pain in her lower abdomen. Enough that she cried out. And there he was! Mick.
His beard was trimmed differently, his hair much longer and both were blacker, like when she first had met him. Of course, he hadn't been trying to look older here like he was in Los Angeles and Aspen. He looked well although very tired. She smiled her sweetest smile.
"Morning, Holly. Feeling better?"
The smile was gone. He thought she was his other woman! He had been unfaithful to her. She started to cry.
"What's wrong, love? Is the pain bad? I've not had any luck in securing the poppy juice but I've a little brandy if you don't think that will get the baby drunk?" Mick smiled.
"Get away from me. As soon as I can move out of this bed, we're leaving."
Beth cried herself to sleep, all the time hurting both physically and emotionally. The baby stirred. Whose baby was this?
Holly's. The traitor's whore. Oh, my God. Did I really just say that? That isn't like me at all. And surely the baby was innocent of any of Mick's treachery.
In the early morning light, Beth could just make out the newborn's features and gasped. For their daughter Collie's face, without the original's flatness, shone back at her, deep in exhausted repose. Her sweet little lips were sucking as she dreamed of the nipple.
Immediately, Beth's breasts tingled. Oh, no, now the milk would flow and she had nothing to capture it with. She hated waking the poor thing but just tried to move onto her side enough to let the babe suckle at least one breast. Maybe she could find a cup somewhere?
Right. The traitor had left the brandy next to the bedside. If she could only reach it but her movements had started the pain again and she was afraid she had opened up the stitches. So Holly had to have a Caesarian section. That brought her up short.
Oh, my God. Holly died last night. Whoever she was, she must have loved Mick enough to have a child with him. As for him, the randy bastard, she gave no quarter. But for poor Holly, she would try her best to protect and nurture the fruit of her womb. It was the very least she could do for the poor, young woman.
Damn. The cup crashed to the floor and exploded into pieces, spilling its contents and making the room smell of alcohol … and tea roses. Beth looked up as the door opened. It was Josef.
He looked at her. "Mick's asleep. Everything alright here? Hmn, smells like a French whore's room in here. La Parfum de Courvoisier."
Beth tried to hold it in but failed. It came out as a splutter. "Oh, Josef, you always could make me laugh. And by the way, it's brandy on the floor, not cognac, you idiot."
"She's up there packing, Mick. The girl's got fresh stitches from having your kid and yet she's leaving to go God knows where."
"She's not going anywhere with Amber or it'll be over my dead body."
"She appears quite capable of making that particular event happen. In fact, she's changed a lot since a week ago. And what happened to her voice? I mean, wasn't it a lot deeper, and less refined before? Plus she never called me anything but sir or boss before. Now I'm Josef. And I could almost swear … nah, never mind. Haven't you noticed, Mick?"
"She's not talking to me."
"Still sore at you, huh? I remember Simone wouldn't let me touch her for months after Spike. Said something about me trying to push a six pound bowling ball through a four inch opening. Ouch."
"You think that's why Holly's mad? I just don't get it. When I first came back into the room, she gave me a dazzling smile. You know, the kind that lit up the room, like …"
Josef coughed. "Like Beth's."
"And then when I asked Holly if she was in pain and would she like some brandy, the smile went out and that was when she said she was leaving."
"She spilled that cup and broke it, by the way. Maybe she decided she needed it after all and reached for it. I went in to check on her when I heard the crash and made some joke in French about the room smelling like cognac perfume."
"And she just looked at you like you were crazy?"
"No. Actually she choked on the joke and told me I was always able to make her laugh. What? I'm a funny guy. Remember, good with the ladies? Mick?"
"You must have dreamed that one. Holly never learned French and wouldn't have known the difference between brandy and cognac."
"Wake up, Mick. Whew, you smell like you've been soaked in a keg of brandy. What'd you do, tie one on because a woman rejected you? Snap out of it, man!"
"Lemme alone. Piss off, Josef."
"Who's the asshole now? Okay, I tried but since you obviously don't care, I won't tell you that Holly and Amber just left. And I heard the red-head distinctly say something about goodbye. Oh, and that she loved you."
Mick's feet hit the floor, centrifugal force did the rest, catapulting his poor alcohol saturated body up and somewhat steady. He was stark naked but that wasn't stopping him as he went charging out the door.
"Hold on just one second, old Sod. Although those pecs of yours always get a rise out of me, I think you're gonna need to put some clothing on. Wouldn't want to shock the womenfolk."
"None of them shock easily."
"Yes, I've noticed that, too, but still, if you're about to do what I think …" Josef watched Mick at the bottom of the stairs lurch.
Mick dove for the slops bucket and was violently ill, shaking and sweating all at the same time as puking.
"Christ, Mick. Now you smell even worse. Let's get you washed up."
"Can't. Gotta go find them and bring them back … love her." And went limp.
Josef held the passed out Mick. "You never could hold your liquor, St. John."
Beth was heading towards something but just couldn't seem to remember what. Or why.
She knew she had woken up this morn and just took the babe – 'Amber', cor, what kind of fancy name was that? – up the hill to that place Mick and the Boss always went to.
So here she was, trudging the hill, getting her best petticoat dirty on probably a fool's errand. Mayhaps the Boss wanted her to leave the kid? She'd heard there be fairies up these parts. Was the babe sickly? Might the fairies exchange it for another, healthier one?
Still, 'tis strange. And how come her belly had been ripped open and put back together with little sewing stitches? Stranger still, why didn't she remember any of it?
She needed a drink, she did but when she got to the top o' the hill, there weren't no water. Just some big rocks.
And two outlanders sitting in the dirt.
"Boss, I saw her going up the hill not an hour ago. Didya want me ta go fetch 'er?"
"No, Davey, we'll handle it from here."
"Handle it, Boss? Hah, 'nother one of those Lunnen words, hey? Why would ya want to be like a door knab, Boss?"
"Er, I meant Mick and I will take measures to secure Holly's safety."
Davey smiled. "Well, why didncha say so in ter firse place! Will I be seeing youse tonight, Boss, or do ya have another beauty comin'?"
Josef stopped and shook his head. "You know, Davey, I have a feeling you may just be ready to take over the business, and the uh, recruitment of the new ladies."
"Ye're going, just like youse said might happen?"
"Yes. I have a feeling it will be soon. Oh, and Davey, make that deposit in gold. No paper. Ned Gowan's got the legals."
"I'll be missin' you, Boss. And Mr. Mick, too. Er, is Holly goin' away, too?"
Again Josef stopped but this time he just grinned. "If Mr. Mick's got anything to say about it, yes."
Mick was dreaming about Beth again. After all these months, it took Holly's leaving and one hell of a drunken night but he had her back. She was smiling at him, waving to him, holding the baby, Collie, wait, no it's Amber. Beth's kissing Amber and cooing to her in French. Christ, that brandy had pickled his brain. He started smelling her hair again while grabbing big red handfuls of it, but she laughed and said not until she put down the sleeping infant. Then she'd show him how much she had missed him.
Groaning in his stupor, he held out his arms but when she turned around it was Holly – wait, what the hell?
"Holly is Beth."
"I just said that, Mick. You finally awake? I know where she's gone."
"Where?"
"Back home through the stones. I'm guessing she didn't take kindly to your having slept with Holly. Yeah, I know, I know. It was my bad influence on you. But something she said this morning finally got through to me. She said 'goodbye, my love. Maybe we'll find each other again somewhere in time.'
"How could I be such an idiot not to know my own wife?"
Josef smirked. "She – they – had me fooled, too. I'm guessing the same Puck who put us here did the switcheroo."
"Loki. Loki, the Norse jokester …" Mick looked at Josef. "Christ, I'm dense. All those clues … We've got to go."
"All packed and said our goodbyes. Davey was most pleased. So get a move on."
They were just heading out when there was a knock at the door.
"Hi, Dad."
The grown up children, Spike and Collie, regarded them. Collie noted Mick's beard, hair and clothes. He looked older! He was human. Both he and Josef were. She had wondered how dad had managed to produce little Amber. At her look, Mick flushed but Josef stood his ground. "Hey, kids. How'd you get those Stones to work?"
Spike answered. "You've got to have the magic woman's touch." And he grinned. That's all it took for father and son to patch up any quarrel. A shared joke about their wives.
For Collie, it was harder since she knew her father had cheated. But she realized that it wasn't really her problem nor her business. Now, if mom never forgave him … but she will … eventually. For now, Collie just knew she loved her father and had truly missed him. "Mom's with some strange shimmering man …" And laughed. "That didn't come out right, did it?" She smiled her Beth smile.
And Mick gave her his sweetest smile right back. "Does he glow like from outer space?"
"Yeah, he sorta does. And laughs a lot, too."
"Then, by all means, let's go find them. We've been waiting a long time for an explanation, haven't we, Josef?"
"Forever and ever, Amen."
The two lovers faced each other. Mick marveling at how beautiful Beth was in her new body. It took his breath away. He loved the red-hair flowing down her back and her 18 year old body. His reaction was becoming obvious to her.
Beth smiled the secret smile. She knew just what he was feeling as she was starting to get pretty warm, too. But there was the little matter of time, place and especially explanations. With a glance that said later, she turned their attention back to the others.
Who had been avidly watching their reunion. Mick could have cared less, he had her with him and he was never letting her go ever again. When they got back, she wouldn't see the light of day for months, maybe years.
Once again, laughter and then the strange man spoke.
"Greetings from Valhalla, where the bravest of the brave come for their final rest and honours. I am Loki." And he grinned. But no one else was laughing this time.
"Ah, yes. Beth, Goddess Freya sends you her love and hopes that you are enjoying your new body." It was not a question but a statement.
"I have been sent here by the generous allfather, Odin, who also sends you his greetings."
The Voice startles them all with its interjection. "You try our patience once too often, Loki."
And now there was a giant of a man standing there wearing a hat to cover his missing eye. Loki bowed.
"Mick and Josef. Brothers in Arms. Come forward."
Mick and Josef came forward, and with a gesture from Odin, went onto bended knee. "Brave men, you have been sorely tried lately by this pup, Loki, yet you persevered, protecting each other without regard to life or limb. You have shown great valor. Indeed, equal to a Norseman. We will welcome you in Valhalla on your final journey, if you so choose.
And for your troubles, I offer to this: When you go back to your families, you may remain human; to live out your lives as you see fit. Or, with the exception of Beth's body, all will be restored as it was before these unfortunate events ever happened.
What is your choice, Josef Kostan?"
"I must admit that, despite almost dying from a chest wound, I've enjoyed being human again but when it comes down to it, I choose to be vampire."
"It shall be so. Mick St. John?"
Now I get the choice, Mick thought. Where were you when Coraline put her fangs down? He heard Loki laugh. They read minds, too.
"Of course." Loki was serious again. "Choose wisely. Everlasting life or a finite one with your true love."
"No question. I choose Beth." He looked over at Collie, who seemed about to protest but Spike pulled her into his arms. "I choose life for as long we both shall live."
Suddenly they were all back in Scotland, present day.
Elliott, Sarah, Thor and Brigit, Simone, Penelope and all the children had been camping out beside the Stones.
Wolfie started howling. "They're back! Momma! Daddy! The Grans, too! I think. Granma Beth?"
"Yes, Wolfie."
"How come you look so funny?"
"I've just had a baby. See? Her name's Holly Amber St. John. Amber for short. Isn't she pretty?"
He breathed "She's bootiful … cause she looks just like you and Momma."