To Rancho Relaxo

Bart and Jessica watched out the back window as the party pulled away. They laughed exhaustedly. Bart turned and sat. Jessica watched for a while longer, then turned and sighed.

"Well, were married."

"That we are, that we are," said Bart, shaking his head in stunned disbelief.

"You got all our bags packed, right?"

"Yes ma'am, all in the trunk."

"Where to first?"

"We're gonna' crash at Rancho Relaxo for the next week, then head on out to Palm Springs, then Hawaii."

"Quite a trip you've got planned for us, baby," Jessica giggled as she got a bottle of golden liquid out of the minibar. She took out two crystal goblets, handed one to Bart, and filled them both with the amber liqueur. She raised her glass, and Bart wrapped his arm around hers. They both took a sip, Bart's longer and faster. She swallowed and smiled, but he cough and sputtered.

"What is this?"

"Mead?"

"Que?

"Honey wine. Couples would drink mead for their first month together. Honey, for mead, which is made out of honey, and moon, as they used to measure months by the moon. Honey+moon equals honeymoon. Get it?"

"Think so," he said. He looked at the drink in his hands. He forced another sip. "It does have alcohol in it, right?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm. Can't be all that bad." He tossed the glass aside, and took Jessica by the hands. "Ahh. Forty whole days of vacation. Just you, and me. Together."

They started to kiss. Jessica leaned back, pulling Bart on top of her. They continued to kiss until Bart noticed the driver staring at them through the rearview mirror.

"Eyes on the road, bub."

"Oh. Heh heh. Sorry boss. Heh."

They sat back up.

"Well, I guess we can wait until we get to the resort."

"Oh no! Don't let me interfere, please, continue!"

"Eyes front!" Jessica growled.

"Yes'm."

They talked the whole drive. They watched as the city faded into countryside, and then rolling hills, then woods. The road went onwards and upwards, carrying them up into the mountains. The woods grew deeper and greener. The sun had set, and the sky was growing dark. Jessica, try as she might, became a little scared. Bart held her close and assured her that they would be safe.

"What if we crash?"

"I had the limo modified. We're rich now, so I can do these things for us. It has a rollover-resistant alloy roof, side airbags, and inch-thick, bullet-proof, heat-resistant windows. We couldn't possibly die, even if we went off a cliff. Plus, it has GPS tracking and INSTAR, so they'd know the second something went wrong and send help."

"What if we get a flat tire? What if we're out here in the dark?"

"We have flares, two spare tires, a jack, and the aforementioned INSTAR (whose manufacturer's lawyers contend is in no way a rip-off of OnStar)."

"What if there are…you know…vampires?"

"Jess, we've handled UnDead losers before. You still got all your Kung Fu, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, so do I, plus I brought two pistols, three stakes, a hammer, a few knives, an axe, a sword, and a few little things of holy water. Look!" and he took a small bottle of holy water out of his shirt pocket. "And-" he pulled out the St. Bartholomew holy medal and the silver crucifix that he wore around his neck.

She smiled.

"What's with all the 'what if's, babe?"

"Just, I dunno, nervous, I guess."

"About what?"

"How, we'll do?"

"Jessica, we've been living like this for, what, six months at least? Seeing each other two years? Known each other for fifteen years? We're financially secure. We have a house. We have three cars, a limo, a yacht, a career. We're healthy, we have compatible blood types, no communicable diseases, no psychological hang-ups…"

Jess looked anxious and pensive.

"Jess, I know you're nervous. This is a big deal. We belong to each other now. One flesh, one heart. One tax form. There's a lot of responsibility and effort in marriage, and hey! neither of us have ever been good at responsibility or hard work. But we'll manage. We'll slog through, like we always have. And we'll always have each other."

"Bart, that is so sweet. Where's it from?"

"From me!"

"No way. Where? Self-help book? Marriage counsellor? Movie? Friend?"

"Honest to God. I did spend a little time thinking about what I'd say if you were freakin' out about something."

"Hmm. Good job." She said. She smiled and laughed.

"What?"

"You're just so sweet Bart. I could really get used to you!"

"Damn better. 'Cause that was a Catholic marriage, and you're stuck with me unless you can prove we weren't really married in the first place."

"How's that work?"

"You know, like if you had been a hooker before you met me, and had fifty STDs, and you didn't tell me until know-"

"Bart, I'm a hooker and I have fifty STDs. I'm sorry, I should have told you earlier, but I was afraid you'd reject me."

Bart's eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Psych! C'mon, Bart. I was at Princeton before I came back to Springfield. And you went with me to the doctor. Jeez, you really are a Simpson!"

"So are you!"

"Only by marriage."

"Anyway, or if you were still married within the Catholic Church at the time, or if we were being forced to marry, or if one of us didn't intend to do any of what we said before we said 'I do', or if the priest was really an actor on a new reality show."

"Who would do that sort of thing? And what network would take such a show?"

"Actually, a few years ago, Fox did."

"Oh."

They pulled up at the front entrance to the Rancho Relaxo.

"We're here!"

"Hot damn!"

Their limo driver got out and opened the door for them. Bart climbed out, and extended a hand to Jessica. The valets came and got their bags out of the trunk. The driver tapped Bart on the shoulder and extended a hand.

"Oh, right. How much was it now?"

"Let's see, I waited at the party for three hours, a four hour drive, plus out of town, plus the booze you guys drank back their, I'd say an even two thousand bucks."

"What the-! Oh hell, here," Bart said taking two thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills from his wallet. "And here, you got us here safe and sound, plus I'm feeling pretty generous." He handed the driver four packets of ten one hundred dollar bills.

"Wow, thanks a lot pal!" he said. He tucked it into his pants pocket and hopped in the limo.

Bart picked Lisa up in his arms and carried her into the resort. He set her down at the counter while he checked in and got their room key, then carried her to the elevator.

"Which floor, sir?" the squeaky-voiced teen valet asked.

"Third Floor."

"Yes sir." he said, pressing the button. After a while he gasped and said, "You're Bart Simpson and Jessica No-Longer-Lovejoy, from 'The Springfield Nine'!"

"Yep."

"Wow, what are you guys doing here? Illicit love affair?"

"I'll have you know we just got married," Jessica growled, holding up her bejewelled hand.

"Oh, sorry. Can I have your autograph?"

"Sigh! There's an autographed picture of our group in my left coat pocket," Bart grumbled. He turned so the pimply geek could get it.

"Wow, thanks mister!" he squeaked as the bell chimed and the couple got off on their floor. They got off, followed by the valets with all their luggage.

"Hey!" the squeaky-voiced teen called, "This picture is made out to 'Emily'. That isn't my name!"

The elevator doors closed.

They reached their room. The valets opened the door for them, and brought their bags in. Bart carried Jessica across the threshold, and set her down on the king-sized bed. The valets started to put their clothes in the closets and dressers.

"Umm, its okay guys, we'll do all that later. We just want to be alone now." Jessica told them.

"Here," Bart said, standing up and handing them each a fifty dollar bill. They smiled, tipped their hats, and left. Bart closed the door after them, and locked it. He turned around, then turned back, unlocked the door, opened, it, set the 'Do not disturb' notice on the doorknob, and closed and locked the door once more. "Ahh, the honeymoon suite. A California King Bed, jumbo-sized Jacuzzi for two-zzi, President Taft-sized bathtub, shower, private mud bath, stat-of-the-art stereo, seventy-two inch LCD widescreen TV with THX surround sound and digital cable, including HBO, and TeeBo, so we can watch whatever we want whenever we want. And look at that view! All the majesty of Springfield National Park, and in the distance, the remnants of the majestic Murderhorn!" He walked over to the bed and sat down next to his wife. He took her hand and kissed it. "But it might as well be a doghouse if you weren't here with me." She kissed him.

"You're such a romantic."

"Thanks…that's good, right?"

"Yes."

"Great. I'm going to take a shower."

"Mind if I join?"

"Eww! Wait…sure!"

She laughed and kissed him.

"Just one thing!" he said. He walked over to the wall and flipped open a panel. He pressed a button. The lights lowered. He pressed another. The logs in the fireplace ignited. "Cool". He scrolled through the menus. "There we go; 'Playlist 4'…'song 1'." Van Morisson's 'Tupelo Honey' began playing.