"See? We could still make you a nice, restful vacation. What the fuck are they still doing here?" Nathan growled.
Charles tightened his grip on Hope and Mercy's hands.
"I invited them here, Nathan," the manager reminded the frontman.
In fact, Charles was still a little leery about being out in public with all three of the triplets, but he had let the cat out of the bag himself so he had to live with the consequences. At this point, the best thing to do would be as publicly affectionate as he could stand to be and hope the players in this temple gambit dealt nicely with the triplets in an effort to stay on Charles Offdensen's good side. It was only a matter of time before his unorthodox relationship hit the tabloids.
"Shouldn't they be building my temple?"
"We purchased the property and hired the architect today," Faith announced. "Which I think is pretty good for a few hours' work."
"They have to survey the land before they can plan on the best way to proceed," Mercy offered. "That will happen next week."
"Oh, I didn't get much done; I had to find us this place," Hope admitted.
"You've all . . . . ah . . . done very well," Charles offered.
Nathan considered the four of them then let out a non-committal grunt.
"You know, Nat'an, I think I figured out your problem about this," Pickles said, gesturing to their manager and his three lovers. "You're jealous!"
"I am not jealous," Nathan growled. "It's just not cool."
Skwisgaar snorted rudely.
"Yous doeses its alls de time," the Swede pointed out.
"I do fucking not!" Nathan growled. "I just fuck groupies! It's completely fucking different!"
"Yous can't expects de butlers to finds new fucksings groupies alls de time," Skwisgaar said, waving a hand dismissively. "Ifs he gotses t'ree he should bes so lucky."
"And dey're so cute together!" Pickles protested. "Don'tcha think so, Murderface?"
William Murderface had made good on his promise to get totally wasted. The bass player was already staggering. What came out of his mouth was a series of esses and sprayed saliva.
"Hey, dey havin's lives music tonights!" Toki said, pointing to a sign.
"Hopes its ain't no ones dildoes," Skwisgaar said. "De Bograts? Who ams dat?"
"Oh, I've heard them!" Pickles cried. "Dey're cool."
"Table for nine," Charles told a waiter.
They were seated at a long table and immediately ordered enough food to feed an army. Booze was ordered as well and everyone got busy munching on chips and salsa.
The first appetizers were arriving when Pickles nudged Murderface hard.
"Hey. Hey. Hey." The drummer paused and thought hard, then finally added: "Hey. Hey, Murderface. Yer – yer girlfriend's here."
"Sshh-what?" The bass player groaned.
The drummer pointed across the dining room to where Dixie was eating her dinner.
"Looks like she already picked up another dood, though," Pickles announced.
"Shkank," Murderface spat, squinting at his erstwhile partner. "Wh-what guy?"
"Dat guy sittin' across from her?" the redhead prompted.
"Are you high? I don't shee anybody," Murderface growled.
Nathan and the rest of the band turned to look.
"You guys see him, right?" Pickles prompted.
Nathan and Skwisgaar exchanged looks, then glanced at Toki, who shrugged.
"Uh . . . what does he look like, Pickles?" Nathan asked.
"I don't fuckin' know! He's got his back t' me! But he's definitely sittin' at th' same table. Look, he just touched her hand and she looked at him all gooey!"
As if sensing she was being observed, Dixie glanced towards the band table and locked eyes with Pickles. The eye contact only lasted a second, for Dixie's companion followed her gaze and Pickles locked eyes with him.
The drummer had a vague idea of the resemblance to Murderface, but it was overwhelmed by the glare the man threw at him with a pair of eyes as cold and hard as diamonds. Pickles wasn't real sure how he came by the impression, but he got the feeling this man would kill him without a second thought. In fact, he would probably do it without much of a first thought.
Before the drummer could think much about that, the man disappeared. He was there one minute, looking as solid as his dinner companion, and gone the next.
Goosebumps raced up and down Pickles' arms. He looked down at the large rum punch he had ordered, then held it out before a passing waiter.
"I – uh – I need something stronger than this."
The waiter took the drink. Pickles turned back around to look at his dinner companions.
"Do . . . uh . . . do you guys believe in . . . y'know . . . . ghosts?"
"Ja," Toki agreed instantly.
"Toki, you believe in gay leprechauns! Somebody less crazy agree with me!"
Mercy choked on her drink.
"Gay leprechauns?" She echoed quietly. "Does it really matter what their sexuality is?"
"Toki . . . . ah . . . . Toki believes he had sex with a leprechaun once," Charles explained in a low murmur. "And . . . . ah . . . the . . . ah. . . . 'leprechaun' granted him three wishes, which included being rich and famous."
Faith put her hand over her mouth. Charles could tell she was trying hard not to smile. Mercy bit her lips and looked down at her plate. Hope's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, then she shrugged.
"Makes as much sense as anything else!"
"Like sex goddesses?" Mercy asked.
"Or divine assistants," Charles said.
"What?" Faith asked.
"Ah . . . I wouldn't worry, Pickles," Charles said. "From my experience with the supernatural I can say most of them are very professional."
"And where is . . . . the body?" JB purred.
"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful," Matthias purred back, gesturing with an empty margarita glass.
"Move over motha," Johnny Betty hissed. "'Cuz I'm going faster than you can drive."
"The body's beautiful baby," Matthias continued, swinging his hips to an unheard beat. "That's right. I just can't help it. It's not my fault. I was born this way."
"Born this way," JB agreed.
The pair started to bump and grind to music only they could hear, fueled by rum, tequila and an overload of power and stress. Matthias still wore one of his suits, but his jacket had been lost to time, his sleeves were rolled up and his tie loose. Johnny Betty had finally given in to her roots and wore cowboy boots, a pair of cutoff shorts and a loose peasant top that faded from the palest blue to white.
They danced and sang on a raised patio overlooking the beach. A pair of Gears stood nearby to guard Mr. Offdensen's assistant. The hotel restaurant building reared against the setting sun, a few strings of colored lights already blinking on over the bandstand.
"I'm up and coming/ I am a child/ Of legendary, hey I'm free and wild!" JB sang. "I am the ocean and I rule the world . . . something something . . . I am mother/ I am body beautiful!"
"Lights, camera, action/ Satisfaction guaranteed/ That's what I need!" Matty continued. "I celebrate the body and enjoy good health!"
"And I gets dooooooooooooown with my bad self!" The two young immortals sang in one voice.
"It's all good from the front to the back!" Matthias declared, slapping his rump.
"Two snaps and a clap for a body like that!" JB declared, putting deed to word and pointing to her friend.
"It's a good damn thing I don't care what you say! Somebody beautiful:"
"Hey, that's me!" They sang together.
A curious thing happened. Matthias suddenly became very, very grateful for his friend's support on this trip. As he had mentioned earlier, he had wider powers than Classical Cupid or Eros thanks to the vagueness of the English language. 'Love' could be used in any sense from 'I love chocolate' to 'I love you always and forever' and Matthias's purview reflected that. Right now he felt a deep, platonic love for a dear friend who was there for him when he needed her. That feeling of love made him very happy and he wanted to share.
Johnny Betty, for her part, was ecstatic over her recent elevation to fledging goddess. She wanted to spread her new powers to their utmost! She wanted to make everybody in the world feel sexy and wanted! When you felt wanted you felt gorgeous and she wanted everyone to be beautiful! Matthias was awesome! It was pretty much his fault she was a goddess now! He was the bestest friend in any of the three thousand worlds! The American Cupid looked over at her with an expression full of joy and happiness.
"Awww, yeah, let's do this," JB announced.
The pair lined up on the edge of the patio facing towards the rest of the hotel.
"Don't hate me 'cuz I'm beautiful," they sang together.
"Everybody's beautiful in their own special way,
Carry yourself like a queen and you will attract a king.
Beauty comes from within.
Whatever the mind can conceive and believe you will achieve!
Do you believe that you are body beautiful?
Yes, yes, oh yes!
There ain't words to express how I feel
I'm the body beautiful, true, that's for real
I am who I am and that's all I can be
Open up your mind so your eyes can see!"
The Gears guarding the pair exchanged a look. What had started out as drunken a cappella karaoke had changed over to . . . something else. Something that was more like a chant . . . a blessing . . . and it made them feel really, really good. On top of the world, really. Happy and confident and . . . .well, sexy!
"I'ma tell ya like this and I'ma tell ya this wayMy body's beautiful, that's all I'm saying
Bodies come in all different shapes and sizes
You're beautiful, too, just realize it
Can't you see the beauty in me?
Open up your heart and set your mind free
Everybody's beautiful in their own way
Express yourself every day!
And when you've got joy on the inside it shows on the out
You're confident and you're beautiful without a doubt
You're absolutely gorgeous, don'tcha know?
So ya got the body beautiful glow!"
Back in the restaurant, Charles suddenly looked around at his lovers like he had never seen them before. Goddamn, he had some sexy ladies on his arm! How many men in this world could say that they had three women who loved them? Not too damn many! He must be better looking than he thought. Charles almost reached for the shiny silver serving platter to admire himself, but he stopped.
He didn't need to check out his mug in a mirror. His undoubted sexiness was reflected in his knockout gorgeous girlfriends.
And he had a big dick, too, so there.
Under the table, Charles stroked Faith's knee, pushing her skirt up to get better access to her thigh. Of the triplets, Faith was probably the shyest with public displays of affection but she bit her lips coyly and pulled Charles' hand up a little further.
Three billion women in the world and she was one of the three the world's most powerful man had chosen. And chosen for a real relationship, not just a sex partner. She must be one hell of a woman. Faith parted her legs slightly to allow Charles' groping fingers higher.
On the other side of the CFO, Mercy cast a surreptitious glance at her own ample bosom. Hot damn, she had some rockin' tits. She may be packing a few extra pounds, but it was in all the right places.
Across the table, Skwisgaar was unabashedly admiring his reflection in the serving platter. Toki was flexing his biceps; making the muscles dance. Nathan was almost startled by exactly how green his eyes were. He was always told he had nice eyes; fuck, they even looked good in the back of a spoon. Pickles threaded a dread through his fingers, admiring the fiery red.
Every person at the table – and indeed, in the whole restaurant – seemed to be having a 'fuck yeah, I'm sexy!' moment.
Well, except for Murderface, who seemed to have chosen that exact moment to pass out in his surf 'n' turf.
In fact . . .
"Excuse me . . . . ah . . . . boys . . . . I . . . uh . . . just need to go check the . . . . thing," Charles stated, getting up from the table. "Faith, could you give me a hand?"
The eldest triplet got up and followed Charles. Had anyone been paying attention they would have noticed the manager drag his lover off of the walkway back to the hotel and spirit her away amongst the palm trees.
"Know what?" Nathan said suddenly. "I got a good feeling about tonight. I bet Ixchel is fuckin' grateful and like, watchin' over us and shit."
"What smells like honey?" Matthias asked.
"My hair," JB answered. "They sell this shampoo here that . . . I don't know what else goes into it, but I feel like I should be scraping it on biscuits."
Blessing dance over, the pair laid on their backs on the patio, staring up at the stars and only rolling to the side enough to drink.
"Your hair does look fabulous."
"Why thank you."
"Is it sad that that's the gayest thing I've done in ages?" Matty asked.
"What?"
"Said your hair looked fabulous. I mean . . . I haven't kissed, I haven't had sex, I haven't even – I've barely looked at other guys."
"How long has it been since Phooka left?"
There was a long pause before Matty answered.
"Three years."
JB sucked in a sharp breath in sympathy.
"Three years is a long time," she said neutrally.
"We weren't getting along great before he took off, either," Matthias announced. "I . . . changed."
"Well, duh," Johnny Betty said. "People change. That's all they do is change. Even mortals; especially mortals. And you didn't just get an upgrade; you went from mortal schmuck to god! That's kind of a big leap! How long were you dead for, again?"
"A year and a day."
"Just out of curiosity, what was like?"
" . . . . cold."
"Mmm, better than hot, I guess. But . . . everybody changes. Phooka changed from when I first met you guys to when I saw him last. I know I've changed. And now I'm changing some more! I know I'm not going to be the same person I am now after this temple gets built and I started getting truly worshipped. But it's not necessarily a bad thing! I would just like to say for the record that I like the person you've become," Johnny Betty said firmly. "I thought you were kind of an airhead before. And kind of a slut."
Matty snorted.
"You know, now that you say that, I never would have stayed celibate for this long when I was mortal. Why am I still being loyal to that fucking flaky fairy?"
"Because you're the God of Love, darling," JB cooed. "That's why you're still holding out hope."
"It feels stupid."
"Love usually does."
"By that logic, you're going to get sluttier as a Goddess of Sex," Matty pointed out.
"I'm okay with that," Johnny Betty said pragmatically. "For the greater good of getting people laid, I am prepared to suck and fuck my way through a few pantheons. It'll be a sacrifice, but I'm just going to have to knuckle down."
Matty rocked to his side as he laughed, pushing himself up to take a sip of his drink.
Across the beach near the restaurant building, a stage was lit up and musicians were plying their trade. In fact, the lead singer was bouncing extravagantly across the boards, egging the audience on. He seemed to be bursting with good humor and joie de vivre. He also looked familiar.
"Get the fuck out of here," Matthias growled.
Gears were carrying Murderface back to his hotel room. Four of them grabbed an arm or a leg each and deposited the bass player flat on his back in the middle of his hotel bed. It was a chore they had done many a time before. Like every time before, they shut the door after them and left Murderface alone.
Unlike every time before, William Murderface threw up. The half-expelled chunks of food and bile caught half-way up his throat. Struck unconscious by an overload of alcohol and depression, he couldn't clear his airway.
William Murderface began to asphyxiate.
"What shall we do with a drunken sailor
What shall we do with a drunken sailor
What shall we do with a drunken sailor
Err-lay in th' mornin'?"
The lyrics were so old everybody knew them by heart, but put to a hard metal beat and bellowed out in a deep baritone. The singer couldn't compete with Nathan, sure, but he tried his best.
He had the long black hair, but this singer's was curly. In fact, all of the band members had black, curly hair. They bore a strong resemblance to each other, all six of them. Some had long hair and others short. The lead guitarist looked a good ten years younger than the rest and the bass player was enormous, but the rest of the band looked like they were stamped from the same template.
The crowd was clapping their hands and dancing. It was metal, but very lively metal. It was the sort of thing you could dance to. Nathan nodded along with the beat, appreciating the other band's art. Skwissgaar was even swaying to the music, pausing only occasionally to sneer at the lead guitarist's playing.
Nathan turned to say something to Pickles about the very Irish band. To his surprise, the drummer was white with fear. Pickles pointed a shaking finger at the men on stage.
"Wh-wh-what are they?" he asked, eyes wide.
"What? They're dudes," Nathan answered. "Right, Toki?"
Toki was staring at the stage, too, his eyes wide. Unlike Pickles, the young Norwegian looked excited.
"Dems ain'ts dudes," he said, a smile creasing his face. He pointed a finger at the lead singer. "Dats ams Toki's leprechaun!"
