In the grand scheme of things, irony always played the biggest part. Or, at least, that's what Sophie told herself as she pretended to dab at her eyes from the mournful funeral music that played from cold, uncaring speakers. She hid a satisfied smirk behind the veil draped from her hat as she passed the open casket and peered inside, a small part of her twinged with guilt but overwhelmed by the rest of her that was jumping around gleefully.
"Goodbye, David," she whispered, running her fingertips along the casket. Cherry oak. Very fine craftmanship, she had to admit, much better than she thought he deserved. Of course, he would have to make certain he was even buried in style, and the thought was enough to turn Sophie's stomach. She kept walking until she was out of the elaborate cathedral and in the parking lot, digging a pack of cigarettes out of her purse as she went. It was a habit she was trying to kick; some habits, obviously, were easier to lose than others.
Taking a slow drag from the cigarette once it was lit, she took the opportunity to glance casually around the parking lot. It was full to the point cars were parked alongside the road and all around the block. Sadly enough, all of them belonged to coworkers and business associates -- even Adam had refused to attend, and she took a small amount of pleasure in that. The last laugh, it would seem, would be Adam's.
True to her word to make certain David didn't find his son, she'd prepared a dinner especially for him and had it waiting when he came home, smelling of booze and some cheap perfume that made her gag. She'd conveniently forgotten to tell him she had loaded his food with every spice she could think of that he hated and was allergic to. It had been a small but necessary blight on her conscience when he choked on the spiced meat and ran through a gamut of colors when his throat swelled before he finally stopped breathing.
Quite sad, really, she thought, that one of Toronto's wealthiest men met his end by a piece of chicken. And yet she couldn't quite bring herself to feel guilty for having been directly responsible for it. With no one caring enough to challenge for an autopsy and the police being convinced by her high school play acting skills utilized with tears and forced hysterics, the body was prepared for burial almost before it had grown cold.
In the end, Sophie was rather proud of herself.
She walked to the Lexus and crushed her cigarette beneath her black high heel, then opened the door to get into the passenger's side. Mike never even looked up from the paper unfolded over the steering wheel.
"Well?"
"Dead as a doornail. Shame, too," she went on, pulling her gloves off and throwing the hat into the backseat. "Beautiful service."
"That's why you're cutting out early, I guess."
"There's a new episode of Frasier on tonight."
Mike raised his eyebrows. "Sophie, it's ten a.m."
"Well, I have other things to get done before it comes on."
"You're not even a little sorry about this, are you?"
Sophie gave a light snort and kicked her shoes off, wiggling her toes once they were free of the cramped stilletos. "Oh, I'll regret it some day, I'm sure. Probably when I'm being denied entrance into Heaven, granted, but some day."
Mike shrugged, folded the paper up, and started the car. "Just asking, because if you hadn't done it, I sure as hell was thinking about it. Only thing is, I was thinking of something a little less subtle."
"Like an ax to the head?"
"Something like that, yeah."
******
Thud. Bang. Crash. "Shit!"
That had been pretty much how the entire morning had gone.
Adam smiled to himself, scratching behind Ash's ears and receiving a gratified purr for his trouble. He stood by the one window in the tiny apartment that could be reached without a death-defying show of bravery, watching with great interest the people passing on the sidewalks below and the cars going down the alley. They all seemed so ... normal. No uptight corporate moguls in suits and ties, no assistants, no chirping cellphones, just normal people going to the store, normal teenagers skipping school.
And then there was Jay.
"Jay, you might wanna sit down for a minute and --"
"Don't have time. The guys are gonna be here to pick us up in twenty minutes, and they'll leave if we're not ready. You know, *you* might wanna help a little..."
"No, not really."
Jay mumbled and started back towards his bedroom, swearing loudly when he tripped over an open suitcase. "Get your fucking stuff out of the floor and help me pack, would you?"
"Actually, that's your stuff. Mine's already packed. That's what you get for not listening to me when I tried to get you to pack up last night."
"Yeah, sure, throw it back at me that you just *happened* to mention that when I was kind of in a compromising position."
"Hey, at least I mentioned it."
Jay flipped him off and disappeared into the bedroom.
Adam laughed again and carefully pried a lock of his hair out of Ash's paws when the kitten took offense to being ignored. "I think you've got anger management issues."
"I think you're gonna get a foot up your ass if you don't help me!" Jay called from the bedroom, giving a small, startled yelp when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. "That's, uh, not what I meant, dude."
"Je t'aime," Adam murmured against Jay's ear, making the other boy roll his eyes.
"Should I see if I can find a tight black and white striped shirt and a black beret for you? You're not gonna start, like, bringing me flowers or anything now are you? 'Cause if you do...well, sorry, but you'll have to find somewhere else to stay. My little scrap of manly dignity can only take so much."
Adam pushed Jay into the side of the doorframe and caught his mouth in a short, sweet kiss that made Jay sigh quietly once it ended.
"Punk."
A car horn outside made him groan and let the back of his head fall against the wooden frame. Adam grinned and picked Ash up off the floor.
"Well, Ash and I are ready to go. Wake me up whenever you get in the van."
"Have I told you lately how very much I despise you?"
"I love you." Adam kissed Jay and then picked his bags off the floor on his way to the door.
"No, no, I *loathe* you! I have nothing but blind hatred for you!" Jay called just as the door pulled shut. He sighed quietly and finished packing the last of his bags, took another look around the apartment, and turned off his bedroom light on his way out. "Only thing is," he started, talking to himself while locking the door, "I love you more than words can say."
And, he admitted to himself, there were worse ways to spend the next several weeks than in close quarters with the one person on Earth who meant the most to him.
-----------
Author's Notes: Hey, you crazy cats! Wow. That's really all I can say. I'm glad it's finally over, but in a way it's a bittersweet happiness, y'know? The response has been overwhelming, though, and I can't thank you guys enough for all the feedback! *sniff* Okay, I'm gonna stop before I go all Sally Field on you. Just a few little notes before I leave, if you're curious: chapter ten, when Sophie's going off in German? My German sucks, quite frankly, but I'm pretty sure it translates, in order, into "My God/He is a monster./I should kill him myself/" - pleasant, ne? And in this part, if you couldn't tell, "Je t'aime" means I love you. Aww. How cute. And no, I don't know how to call anyone a cheese-eating frog in French, though I really wish I did...
Anyway, thanks guys! I lurve ya. Mwah! :)
"Goodbye, David," she whispered, running her fingertips along the casket. Cherry oak. Very fine craftmanship, she had to admit, much better than she thought he deserved. Of course, he would have to make certain he was even buried in style, and the thought was enough to turn Sophie's stomach. She kept walking until she was out of the elaborate cathedral and in the parking lot, digging a pack of cigarettes out of her purse as she went. It was a habit she was trying to kick; some habits, obviously, were easier to lose than others.
Taking a slow drag from the cigarette once it was lit, she took the opportunity to glance casually around the parking lot. It was full to the point cars were parked alongside the road and all around the block. Sadly enough, all of them belonged to coworkers and business associates -- even Adam had refused to attend, and she took a small amount of pleasure in that. The last laugh, it would seem, would be Adam's.
True to her word to make certain David didn't find his son, she'd prepared a dinner especially for him and had it waiting when he came home, smelling of booze and some cheap perfume that made her gag. She'd conveniently forgotten to tell him she had loaded his food with every spice she could think of that he hated and was allergic to. It had been a small but necessary blight on her conscience when he choked on the spiced meat and ran through a gamut of colors when his throat swelled before he finally stopped breathing.
Quite sad, really, she thought, that one of Toronto's wealthiest men met his end by a piece of chicken. And yet she couldn't quite bring herself to feel guilty for having been directly responsible for it. With no one caring enough to challenge for an autopsy and the police being convinced by her high school play acting skills utilized with tears and forced hysterics, the body was prepared for burial almost before it had grown cold.
In the end, Sophie was rather proud of herself.
She walked to the Lexus and crushed her cigarette beneath her black high heel, then opened the door to get into the passenger's side. Mike never even looked up from the paper unfolded over the steering wheel.
"Well?"
"Dead as a doornail. Shame, too," she went on, pulling her gloves off and throwing the hat into the backseat. "Beautiful service."
"That's why you're cutting out early, I guess."
"There's a new episode of Frasier on tonight."
Mike raised his eyebrows. "Sophie, it's ten a.m."
"Well, I have other things to get done before it comes on."
"You're not even a little sorry about this, are you?"
Sophie gave a light snort and kicked her shoes off, wiggling her toes once they were free of the cramped stilletos. "Oh, I'll regret it some day, I'm sure. Probably when I'm being denied entrance into Heaven, granted, but some day."
Mike shrugged, folded the paper up, and started the car. "Just asking, because if you hadn't done it, I sure as hell was thinking about it. Only thing is, I was thinking of something a little less subtle."
"Like an ax to the head?"
"Something like that, yeah."
******
Thud. Bang. Crash. "Shit!"
That had been pretty much how the entire morning had gone.
Adam smiled to himself, scratching behind Ash's ears and receiving a gratified purr for his trouble. He stood by the one window in the tiny apartment that could be reached without a death-defying show of bravery, watching with great interest the people passing on the sidewalks below and the cars going down the alley. They all seemed so ... normal. No uptight corporate moguls in suits and ties, no assistants, no chirping cellphones, just normal people going to the store, normal teenagers skipping school.
And then there was Jay.
"Jay, you might wanna sit down for a minute and --"
"Don't have time. The guys are gonna be here to pick us up in twenty minutes, and they'll leave if we're not ready. You know, *you* might wanna help a little..."
"No, not really."
Jay mumbled and started back towards his bedroom, swearing loudly when he tripped over an open suitcase. "Get your fucking stuff out of the floor and help me pack, would you?"
"Actually, that's your stuff. Mine's already packed. That's what you get for not listening to me when I tried to get you to pack up last night."
"Yeah, sure, throw it back at me that you just *happened* to mention that when I was kind of in a compromising position."
"Hey, at least I mentioned it."
Jay flipped him off and disappeared into the bedroom.
Adam laughed again and carefully pried a lock of his hair out of Ash's paws when the kitten took offense to being ignored. "I think you've got anger management issues."
"I think you're gonna get a foot up your ass if you don't help me!" Jay called from the bedroom, giving a small, startled yelp when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. "That's, uh, not what I meant, dude."
"Je t'aime," Adam murmured against Jay's ear, making the other boy roll his eyes.
"Should I see if I can find a tight black and white striped shirt and a black beret for you? You're not gonna start, like, bringing me flowers or anything now are you? 'Cause if you do...well, sorry, but you'll have to find somewhere else to stay. My little scrap of manly dignity can only take so much."
Adam pushed Jay into the side of the doorframe and caught his mouth in a short, sweet kiss that made Jay sigh quietly once it ended.
"Punk."
A car horn outside made him groan and let the back of his head fall against the wooden frame. Adam grinned and picked Ash up off the floor.
"Well, Ash and I are ready to go. Wake me up whenever you get in the van."
"Have I told you lately how very much I despise you?"
"I love you." Adam kissed Jay and then picked his bags off the floor on his way to the door.
"No, no, I *loathe* you! I have nothing but blind hatred for you!" Jay called just as the door pulled shut. He sighed quietly and finished packing the last of his bags, took another look around the apartment, and turned off his bedroom light on his way out. "Only thing is," he started, talking to himself while locking the door, "I love you more than words can say."
And, he admitted to himself, there were worse ways to spend the next several weeks than in close quarters with the one person on Earth who meant the most to him.
-----------
Author's Notes: Hey, you crazy cats! Wow. That's really all I can say. I'm glad it's finally over, but in a way it's a bittersweet happiness, y'know? The response has been overwhelming, though, and I can't thank you guys enough for all the feedback! *sniff* Okay, I'm gonna stop before I go all Sally Field on you. Just a few little notes before I leave, if you're curious: chapter ten, when Sophie's going off in German? My German sucks, quite frankly, but I'm pretty sure it translates, in order, into "My God/He is a monster./I should kill him myself/" - pleasant, ne? And in this part, if you couldn't tell, "Je t'aime" means I love you. Aww. How cute. And no, I don't know how to call anyone a cheese-eating frog in French, though I really wish I did...
Anyway, thanks guys! I lurve ya. Mwah! :)