Hello! This takes place probably a year or so before Chess, so Florence has never met Anatoly, the only thing the Russians has done so far is the Hungary invade, and Freddie is still a chess-playing asshole instead of a traumatized reporter. I kinda hope I'm not too OOC with Flo, even though I tried to explain the reason why she's so...childish. But come on, who doesn't like Disney World (except for Freddie)?

"Pawn to 6-B!" I call from on top of my white king. The ivory weakling moves up, where the last remaining black piece, a queen, knocks it aside. Perfect. I'm all clear to take her out. "King to 5-B!"

My powerful tower trudges ahead, perfectly ready to win the game. Just as I'm about to wipe out the devil, a shrill beep whines, turning everything red. Oh, that's my pillow. That game may have been only a dream but what a dream it was. If only I was able to finish it…stupid alarm clock…Wait. It's Saturday; there's no game. So why the hell is it set for-I look up to see the little bitch-6:30 in the morning!

I push snooze and roll back over, but I'm unable to go back to sleep because of that stupid shower that's roaring like crazy. It had to be Florence, but why on earth would she be up so early? I'm more of a morning person than she is (and that's saying something).

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and sit up, rubbing that eye-gunk that loves collecting right in the corner of my sockets. I hear another sound coming from the bathroom, but it's too overpowered by the water to be identifiable. I get closer, and it gets clearer.

"A dream is a wish your heart makes…"

I snicker. Florence is singing! She's not all that bad. Actually, she's fantastic. Note to self: get her drunk then take her into a karaoke bar.

Florence continues her cycle of kiddy-movie songs (I stay by the door and am suddenly glad she takes those longer-then-route-66 showers), before shutting all the noise up. I get up, not wanting to know what she'd say if she saw me sitting on the floor in my boxers.

I flop back on the bed and turn on the way-too-early-for-human-life news. It's probably thirty minutes before Florence comes out of the bathroom, fully dressed…somewhat like a five year old. It was an outfit that had a bubblegum pink tee with some smart-alack white rabbit on the front, blue jeans (not even those really tight ones that made her butt look really, really good), and pink flip-flops that looked like the Glitter-Fairy got a hold of them.

"Freddie!" she said. "Why aren't you getting ready?"

"You were in the bathroom." I get back up start walking across the suite. "Hey!" I shout. "Where are we going anyway?"

She grins, then says in an octave that, if went any higher, would be audible only to really sensitive wolves, "Disney World!"

I groan. That's right! She'd been planning this trip for…well, probably as long as she's been my personal assistant/second/girlfriend. I quickly wrack my brain for any way I can get outta this. Got it!

"Flo," I say in a very froggy voice. "I'm not feeling to well. Can you go without me?" I add a cough for brownie points.

I want a sympathetic look and an "Oh, my poor Freddie. How about I stay and take care of you?" But since when has that woman done what I want her to?

"Nice try," she says, a smug smirk on her face. "Now go get ready."

I inwardly groan and head for the bathroom. My clothes are on the sink counter. Jeans and a white shirt. Man, Flo's not being very creative with our outfits today. I do my basic hygiene routine and get out. Standing at the door with a bag that looked like an overfed terrier is Florence. "Come on, Freddie! Hurry up, we're gonna miss the bus!"

"Bus?" I ask. "You didn't say anything about a bus."

"You didn't ask. Let's go already!"

I'm tempted to dilly-dally, but the look on her face says that her being forced to wait one more minute could be lethal. I follow her out of the hotel and to a crowd of God knows how many people. Are they all waiting for the bus? Haven't they (and Florence) ever heard of rental cars?

It takes forty forevers, but finally that over-grown van pulls up. The mob floods in. I guess I'm part of that mob because before I even know it I'm sitting down next to Florence. She's smiling. Why? It's just some stupid theme park.

The bus is smelly. Why didn't Flo get a car? I'm a chess champ; buses are for regular people, not me. It's also hot. Maybe that's what stinks: the riders' sweat. How on earth does this not bother Florence?

Our 'fine ride' pulls up to the park. Everybody paws there way through the horde trying to get ahead of everyone else. Me? Nope, sorry. Couldn't care less. But apparently Florence could, for she is not beside me in the back. I look out the window and she is leading that tourist pack. I slowly follow the group, preparing myself for a horrible day.

I see Florence standing at the entrance. She dashes over to me and, without a word, grabs my wrist and drags me through the gate. Then she turns into a chatterbox. "Okay, so what do you want to do first? I say we should go on the Dumbo ride, but maybe we should go on It's A Small World before it gets crowded…" she chats away. I zone out, not wanting to hear her jabbering. Suddenly she starts walking me like a dog through the park, using my arm as a leash. This is gonna be a long-ass day...

The rest of the morning goes by slowly. The afternoon slower. It seems like every single stinkin' ride we go on, my hot sex-goddess of a girlfriend turns more and more into a four-year-old. Earlier she made me wait in line for a freaking HOUR to see that stupid mouse that's pretty much taking over the entire planet! And everything here's overpriced. She payed twenty bucks for a hat that has Mickey ears sticking out. Actually, I'm not too sure if I want to complain about that; she looks kinda cute in it.

"Hurry up, Freddie! We have time to see one more thing before the fireworks!" she yells as she, once again, attempts to de-socket my limb. She pulls me up to this huge oak tree and smiles at it, her eyes glazing over, and her soul leaving her body.

"What?" I ask, rather concerned. This isn't like her, but then again squealing like a toddler when confronted by Donald Duck wasn't exactly in-character either.

"Every year my family, I mean before the Russians came in and...did everything, we would come here as a vacation, and every single year we would take a group photo in front of this tree. Me, my mother, my father, all my brothers and sisters, we would all squeeze in as tight as we could, but one of us always got half our head cut off by the lens, or blinked, or goofed off. Some of my best memories of certain siblings come from here. Most of them, to tell you the truth..."

There's tears brimming in her eyes. She remembers more than she lets on. She has told me, only after five years of dating, that she remembers the night those damn Soviets came in and shot up everyone beside her and her mother (she was the third-youngest of fifteen). I pull her close to me and rub her back a little. After all, I'm arrogant, but not heartless.

"I'm fine...I'm fine..." she mumbles, but there's a tear sliding down her face. "We better get going if we wanna see the fireworks."

I go without protest this time. Seeing Florence cry totally wears my stubbornness down. Hopefully she won't ever find this little weakness out.

I wrap my arm around her and we watch the pyrotechnics. I will admit, these are pretty cool. So sparkily and pretty. Kinda reminds me of my girlfriend, who is now half-buried in my jacket, one eye still peaking out. She tugs at my jacket, pulling me down to meet in a kiss. Maybe this trip to Disney wasn't so bad...

Reviews make me smile like Florence at Disney World!