Morning came with a full, hearty breakfast. Lucille had known Ida for years, however never noticed how particular and dedicated Mrs. Laurel was to everything she did.

She could see why Stan married the woman, nonetheless, Mrs. Hardy couldn't bring herself to be so free with her husband Ida was. At the same time, in a way, she did.

Lucille always knew Oliver and Stan were very close, a wife and partner knows things. She repressed questions, shared her time with him and allowed him to be happy. Lucille only really put her foot down and got upset over Oliver's health and gambling.

Two men could be close. Sitting next to one another, sometimes holding hands, kissing all over each others face, constantly embracing. It was a pure relationship and admirable. Why not have a close friend outside of a wife, is what she told herself. A wife cant do everything, is what Lucille figured and what Ida also said in no less words. It still bothered her, the thoughts of them having "alone time" one or two times a year, the other troubles with women, swirling, racing, clouding her head, her brain her thoughts.

Suddenly, Lucille is startled by Ida slapping the table as she sat down.

"Hey! I ask if you wanted butter with toast!" Ida snapped.

Mrs. Hardy blinked a few times, shook her head, apologized and nodded. She didnt eat much bread, but when in Rome.

"Babe, is ok. Stan is a genius that loves that man. I know that face, it used to be my face with Stan also when we first started talking with one another." Mrs. Laurel remarks.

"Yes, I know." Lucille nodded. She took a sip of her strong coffee and sighed. "Ida, did Stan tell you about Babe? His feelings for him?"

"Besides his girl Lois, grandchildren, and regrets of no sailing, Babe is almost all he talks about. Wonderful memories, how they stuck together like glue during movie days. He regrets little, has few for Oliver."

"Regrets?! Babe is a sweet man! What, Stan said Babe did something?" Says Lucille.

"Other than him wanted Babe to be by his side instead of the 'Bad' Russian wife. Just wanted more time." Replies Ida.

"Oliver thought it was the right choice for Stan to iron things out. He was lost within himself. When Babe and others in his life tried to talk to Stan, the man would bite and bark at everyone. Babe was absolutely ghostly. It's like… He would never tell me… I knew Babe missed him."

"Oh, yes, that time, around when Oliver met you. Stan said it not last long, it still felt he had gapping hole behind his ribs."

"Well what I can tell you, Ida, Babe was a mess. He always said I make him happy, however…"

"Stan and Babe are for each other." Ida finishes.

Lucille sighed quietly, nodded and looked down at her coffee.

"They are happy, Ida… A duty of the wife, partner, spouse is to make sure that you help in the happiness of the spouse. So,… I'm satisfied." Lucille laughs lightly and sadly.

Mrs. Laurel pats Mrs. Hardy's hand. She then tells the solemn woman to eat breakfast.

A quiet morning in a hotel room, within Anaheim. Two elderly men are waking up lost, entangled within each other arms. The more slender, slightly shorter man rubs his partners nose before peeling open his own eyes a bit more to see a blurred, fussy vision of his companions face. The man smiles lightly, blinking away the sleepiness in his pupils, then presses his lips on his partners lips repeatedly. The taller partner shakes his head before realizing he was being washed in kisses from his bedtime companion. He chuckles, laughs and then retaliates by pulling the slender man into his torso, burying his face in the cup of his neck, suckling and nibbling at will. Laugher and a struggle comes from the smaller partner. He then starts tickling his tall bed fellow in his arm pits and pinching his sides.

Knowing every sensitive part of one another's body, the struggle went on for quite a while.

Later on, late morning now, the two men get dressed in semi formal attire according to the instructions of the shorter male. Putting on his other shoe while sitting on the bed, the man looks at his partner, whom is fixing his tie in the dresser mirror.

"Stanley…?"

"Yes, Babe… What is it, dear?"

"I thought this was going to be a relaxing trip. We are almost dressed to the nine." Inquiries Babe, as he leans back on his hands.

"It has been a minute since we had time to ourselves. I wanted to mark it with good memories! Being dressed to the seven, some sight-seeing and enjoying the sunshine." replies Stan.

"Alright, Stanley." Smiles Oliver.

The two men are greeted with a golf cart outside of the hotel. The driver takes them to a restaurant where other famous guests are seated and arriving. They walk past and are greeted by some familiar and some not so recognized faces as they are going to a privately arranged outside balcony setting.

Babe walks past the table, puts his hands on the railing and was surprised that they were on the third or forth floor of the building.

"It is so vast, Stanley."

Stan closes the balcony door behind him, wraps his arms around Olivers torso, kisses the back of his neck and between his lower shoulder blades and then rests his head on his upper back. Oliver reaches his arm around to embrace Stan. The two look at one another, kiss lightly a few times, then look out on the amusement park.

Within 20 or so minutes, breakfast is presented to the two. Stan and Oliver feed one another, reminisce and laugh. They always harvested laughter from nowhere, within one another. Laughter, joy and comfort.

After breakfast, the two were driven to a museum within the grounds of Disney. Some of the famed studio artifacts, from over the decades are on display. Oliver looped his arm through Stan's as they walked together. Some of the other guest stared, but most ignored the two close men.

Suddenly Oliver feels someone wrap their arm around his free arm. He snaps his head to that direction and sees Buster Keaton, stone face and frogged eyed.

"Fancy meeting you here, Babe-bee." Buster teased. "I've missed you, you, know. We aren't very social. "

"Stan has his friends, I have mine. We don't mix socially." Oliver says in a quiet, startled, tone.

"That is right, Buster. You know where I 'am, where my home and rest is. I did not invite you to tease Babe, by the way." Stan says to Buster.

"Invited?!" Oliver snapped loudly.

Everyone in the immediate area paused. Oliver looked around, did his famous smile and a invisible tie-twiddle to everyone. The room soon went back to order.

"Stan… You said this was just for us… It was a retreat…" Oliver starts in a whisper, tearfully with a slight lip tremble. "You–"

"It-is… There are some things I wished to clear out." Stan replied.

Oliver blinked a few times, looked forward and wondered what else could there be. The two agreed to never bring up the past and live for the day, spending as much time with each other as possible. Babe then looked down at Buster, whom was looking at Stan. He felt Babe's eyes on him, blinked a few times, flirtingly, smirked lightly, shrugged and tightened his grip around Mr. Hardy's right arm.

"If you wish to discard him, I'm still available!" Buster mocks.

Oliver shakes his head in disagreement, then lowers it.

"Dammit, Buster!" Stan Snaps quietly toward Keaton.

"No tag-in's?" Buster says raising a hand.

Both Stan and Oliver say 'no' in a slightly loud tone.

"Ok, ok…" Buster replies, wrapping his other arm back around Oliver's.

"And get off him, Buster!" Stan snaps.

"Can I get on you…?" Keaton replies.

Oliver takes his arm out of Keaton's grip and walks off. Stan calls after him.

"Dammit, Buster! It is not about you! If you screw this up!" Says Stan in a stern voice.

"What?" Buster nonchalantly shrugs.

"Babe–BABE!" Stan yells as he walks hurryingly to Oliver, catching up to him. The two men walk out the museum.

"I was just asking." Buster says to himself. He then puts his hands in his pockets, shrugs and starts walking after Stan and Oliver.