Chapter 15:
The room was among a block of rooms that Kim Kil Wan had obtained. Finn had given preferred access to his adopted brother and his family, providing rooms for Jake, Lady, and all the pups, knowing full well that Jake couldn't be bothered to show, and the pups were boycotting anything to do with Billy because of the death of Jr. As if it was Billy's fault their sister was as twisted as a black-briar. He'd known, going in, that pretty much nobody from that side of the family was coming, but he would hardly have expected Kim to sell these rooms to the highest bidder.
Standing in the middle of the oppulent suite, looking at the rich furnishings, the big man reflected on the ugly ways life had turned out. Kim had sought to punish his dad for being a philanderer and for abandoning his wife and kids. Finn had just been collateral damage. There had been strains there for years. Billy and Jake Jr. were just the last straws. His family was broken. His adopted dad had gotten himself killed messing around with a terrifying monster. His brother was living like a recluse, and his nieces and nephews weren't really speaking to him.
Finn had made the best life he could make out of the mess he'd been left with as a young adult. He'd thought he was doing pretty good. He, Simone, and Emeraude had raised three really good kids. Nights like tonight, he found himself really wondering. Had he done so well after all? He felt alone. It was a lot like the night he'd tried to sin with Bonnie. It was a lot like the night he had sinned with Lollipop. He was up here with a beautiful woman who wasn't his wife, standing in her room alone. Well, except for his bodyguards, they were alone.
They'd shocked the lady by drinking half a glass of beer before letting Finn have a sip of what was left. They'd set a pretty ugly tone on the dance floor by literally following the pair of them as they danced. It would have been laugh-out-loud, rollin'-on-the-floor, if it wasn't so awful. Why are you here, he wondered, as he listened to the lady primping in the toilet? He knew what she was doing. It was the same thing a couple of princesses had done over the years of his misspent youth.
Chelsea came out dressed in a soft nightgown, looking altogether bewitching. A corner of Finn's mind was aware of the lust. He had a hunger to introduce this woman to his meat-stick, and that honestly made him sad. He was saddened not to have outgrown that. At the same time, why had he really come up here if not for that? He had no idea why he was here.
The little woman came forward and settled on the edge of the bed as if in invitation. The King of Ooo stared at the strange woman for several minutes. Chelsea held her breath, even as she felt the urge. So close. He was within reach. If she could scratch him even once with her venomed nails! Except, he had the Quicksilver Curse flowing in him! He could move out of reach quick as thought! She needed him distracted–preferably in an act of passion where it would be perfectly normal for her to claw him.
"Why don't you join me," she murmured? Finn turned and retrieved the chair that sat by her makeup table and sat himself down on it, leaving her staring at him. She was shocked. Did he know? Did he suspect? If he suspected, you'd be dead, she thought. At the least, he'd have sicced his bodyguards on her. Likely he would never have even danced with her, much less come up here. Principled, she thought. This man who was fucking fourteen different women was trying to act as if he was principled?!
"How do you know Kim," he asked? The question came from out of the blue and made her very nervous. "Business," she replied. "He supports the opera. You understand. Patronage." Finn nodded. It sounded like the sort of thing that his nephew would do. Kim was forever trying to show himself to be a man of means and culture, even though he thought his dad was a bum. At the same time, Finn knew he needed to step up his own game. Royals expected to be royally entertained when they visited. There had been little or no time for it when they were fighting for their lives against the Lich and his army of undead. Now times were different. He couldn't run the world as if it were constantly at war. The big man filed that away as he returned his focus on the conversation in front of him.
"You don't have to keep your distance," she offered. The King countered with, "does Kim?" Chelsea flushed. Was he calling her a ho?! "It's the cost of the game at this level," she retorted. "I scratch his back. He scratches mine. It's business..." Finn flushed. Maja had said as much the last time he'd tried to spend time on her. She'd shooed him out in favor of working on the project. Business. He was tired of business.
Changing tacks, the pale beauty offered, "you married your son to the leader of Muscle Kingdom. You know how the game is played..." Letting the silk gown slip from her shoulder, she said, "I'm just offering a little nookie. For favors to be named later. I'm a woman. This is just one of my assets..." A man could lose his soul in all the 'favors'. "I don't like this," Finn muttered. "I didn't want this life for my boy. I... he was happy. He was a good dad, and he was happy." "He's brought another kingdom into your grasp," Chelsea reminded him. "He's now a prince in his own right. I'd think you'd be happy..." Finn smiled a bitter smile. "Power doesn't bring you happiness," Finn told her. "It brings conflict and death..."
"You sound like you could use a chance to relax and unwind," Chelsea murmured. "C'mon. I'll give you a massage..." The big man rose, as if in response to her offer. He stood there staring at her, and she silently urged him to come to her. She was wearing her most potent polish. She needed one scratch. She had a plan for the guards–lure them in while they tried to revive him. She'd play the horrified woman and claim that he expired–that his heart must have given out–in the middle of the act. She'd done it before to get out from under a murder charge. She'd been out of the country before they figured out he'd been poisoned.
Instead of accepting the chance to lose his pain in her sexuality, the King of Ooo turned to go, saying, "thanks for listening." She watched him as he crossed the room, and she silently pleaded with him to change course each time he glanced back at her. Chelsea howled frustration when he'd shut the door. She'd been so close! Usually men couldn't wait to get nasty! What the hell was wrong with him?!
The King of Ooo headed out with his bodyguards in tow, his mind churning on ugly old memories. Bonnie had put herself in a trick-bag once-upon-a-time, and he'd placed himself in the service of a man he'd believed to be a hero-king. It had been years since he'd thought about those days. That time had helped to poison his relationship with Bonnie. They had grown to care for each other again and even managed to rekindle the love that had seen Bonnie willing to go through 'growing up' all over again to be with him. Still, he'd never forgotten those days or the previous King of Ooo.
The reception was empty when he arrived there–the buffet tables picked clean. He hadn't eaten. Hurletta had intended to get him squared away with dinner, but she'd gotten pulled away. In the end, he'd spent the evening and much of the day with an empty belly, and his body was reminding him of that fact. He was wrung out and exhausted, feeling down deep at the bottom. There was one thing that could cheer him, though. Heading across the empty hall, the King boarded one of the guarded elevators and headed up to the level where the Royal Family was sleeping this night.
As the first rays of the sun came streaming through the hotel windows a few hours later, Betty awoke to her daughter's soft snoring. Keyed up as she was, Simone had taken hours to get to sleep. Betty had resorted to making up a glass of warm milk–just like she used to do it for Patrick. In repose, the younger woman looked calm and at peace. This was killing her. It felt that way. Betty felt like a coward because she'd abandoned the job that she'd so heavily lobbied and fought for. She felt guilty because she'd killed her husband with her quest to take the Grand Master's throne. She'd felt so guilty, that she'd walked away from it, little realizing that their strange child would get stuck with it in her stead.
Now, the older woman felt like a horrible coward for sticking her child with the mess she'd made. They couldn't walk away. She knew they couldn't walk away and leave a power-vacuum in the chaotic mess that was Wizard City. At the same time, she wanted Simone out of the business of rushing around dealing with the hyper-moronic idea of the week from her insane subjects. The troubles surrounding Finn were doing nothing at all to help. She sensed that the younger woman felt a weight of guilt for all that had happened. It was preying on her, which helped Betty's peace of mind not at all.
They were supposed to be getting back today. The wedding was over, and there was yet another mess in Wiz City. Some loon had managed to burn down six city-blocks with an out-of-control experiment. There were a lot of injuries and possibly some deaths. Making a decision of her own, the plump woman decided it could wait. It could wait a little while. Kissing Simone's cheek, she left her daughter sleeping.
Heading outside, she was startled to find Finn curled up in the chair there. She'd expected to see him later, maybe. She'd thought he would be with Ingrid. It said something about where his mind was that he was here in that chair instead. He was just as worried about Simone as she was worried about him. Betty had never seen two people who loved each other quite like this. It would have been cute if it wasn't afflicting them. You have to fix this, she thought. Guilt was tearing the pair of them apart inside.
Kneeling at the big man's side, she shook him. Sitting up, he groaned softly, stretching his legs. "Why're you sleeping in that chair," she chided him? Scratching, he said, "you guys were sleeping. Didn't want to wake you." Betty flushed. His blue eyes burned into hers, and she found herself glancing away. Did he know? Rising, he walked over to the bedroom. She didn't want him waking Simone, but she wasn't sure she should stop him. Far from waking her, the big man stood there a moment, staring into the room as if staring at a far-away prize. Turning away from the door, he said, "I asked them to send up breakfast, but I'm'a tell them to stop..."
He brushed past her on his way to the door–the barest of contacts. As his hand gripped the knob, she told him, "you have to stop feeling guilty..." His back went stiff. Then, after a moment, he relaxed. As his fingers turned the knob, he replied, "you first." Betty flushed to her hair. She had absolutely nothing to say to that. The moment was over just like that, as her husband shut the door behind him.
Hundreds of miles to the north east, Patrick Petrikov rubbed at his bleary eyes in discomfort. They'd been at it all night. Bronwyn had been insistent on going through every document and deposition. She wanted to see every scrap of evidence. It didn't make sense to Patrick. She had her answer. Dude was creepin' on his wife with some other dude's girl. He'd fucked up and ate a dagger a few million times. So what? Shit happened all over the civilized kingdoms like that. Patrick ought to know. He'd partaken. He wasn't proud to know he'd done the same dumbass stuff this dude had done. He was just grateful that Fi found it within her to give him another chance. He hoped someday Cerelia could forgive him taking advantage.
"This doesn't make sense," muttered Bronwyn. Rubbing at his eyes and yawning, the wizard said, "'course it does... Dude was far from home. You said he's done this shit for years..." Bronwyn felt her face go warm. At the same time, this man just did not seem to get it. "On the surface, it makes sense," she agreed, "but when you dig, it all falls apart." Resting his chin on the palm of his left hand, Patrick glared at her. He'd done everything he could to piece this together. He didn't want to be digging into this. He wanted sleep. It helped not at all that the chill air of his cheap hotel room had all four of her knockers trying to jump out at him, making four big dents in the silk shirt she was wearing.
Bronwyn herself was apparently tired enough that she couldn't always remember what she was wearing, and she kept flashing those heavy knobs at him, letting him know they were big enough to fill that shirt and firm enough that she didn't need a bra. "This girl cheated all the time," Patrick grumbled. "Her husband knew about some of it. People he knew said he was upset." It made perfect sense the guy just decided he'd had enough. "Then answer me this," rumbled the plush-puppy. "Why do all his chums say he was at work?" Patrick rolled his eyes. He thought that was obvious. "His supervisor too," Bronwyn insisted?
Patrick frowned at her uneasily. That had bothered him too. Friends might have been covering for their buddy. His boss? As Bronwyn began to launch into all the inconsistencies, a knocking came at the door. Sliding his Instrument back on his finger, Patrick called out, "come in." To his surprise, Fionna came bustling through the door. He stared at her in surprise. He wasn't sure he wasn't hallucinating. "Patrick," Fi growled. "I got up at three in the morning to get here with the kids, for Globsake..."
The young wizard leapt to his feet and rushed her. As Bronwyn glared at his back, he snatched the Bad Bunny off her feet and twirled her around. Setting her down, he threw his arms around her and hugged her hard as he could, and Fionna was a little startled to realize he was crying. Her eyes were on Bronwyn. "What're you doing here," she asked? She and the pups weren't exactly friendly these days. Bronwyn's dad had been kind of a dick to Lollipop, and he'd been a relentless asshole to Billy over Jake Jr. "Your husband was helping me understand how it was that my father's employee came to grief," Bronwyn retorted.
It was her 'I'm smarter than you' attitude. Blitz the dummy with big words to make her feel bad. Fionna brushed her off with, "clearly no further progress can be made at the moment, as it's abundantly obvious Mr. Petrikov has not had adequate rest. He's been committed to the defense of the border for the last few weeks, and as ranking general of the privy council it's my duty to see that he has adequate time to recuperate." The half-bear goggled at the blonde bombshell. "I will converse with you at some other opportunity," Fi continued. "In the now, I think I shall see that Mr. Petrikov achieves a healthy slumber."
Crossing the room, she took Bronwyn by the arm and led her back to the door. "The reports," Bronwyn howled! In the blink of an eye, the Bad Bunny recrossed the room, scraped the documents and diagrams into the bag they'd come in, blinked back to the door and shoved them into the she-bear's arms before shutting the door in her face. "Thanks, babe," Patrick yawned. "I thought she'd keep me at that table all day." Fionna turned from the door, and she saw ghosts of her father's words in her husband's face. He looked exhausted–like he was carrying the world.
Remembering her mother's example, the tall girl strode across the room, took her hubby by the arm, and steered him for the bed. She made him get out of his shoes and pants and lay back, and he was unconscious almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Crossing the room once more, she hefted the basket with Nadine and Mona, finding both still asleep. That wouldn't last long. There was work to be done–the work of a mom instead of a general.
Back in the Candy Kingdom, Bonnibel Bubblegum shoved her plate away from her. "Not the same as Finn, eh," chuckled Cherry? The candy-monarch blushed. Then she started laughing. No, it wasn't. She would get too wrapped up in how totally unhealthy too much sugar was to make anything as tasty as what Finn cooked. "My problem is multi-tasking," Cherry admitted, as she collected the plate. "I don't spend the time needed to get anything done to satisfaction, so it all comes out mediocre." Finn was man enough not to complain.
"I don't know where we go from here," Bonnie burbled. They'd spent half the night talking. It was aimless talk, mostly. Some of it was griping about the buttons they were both pushing. Some of it was angst over their current situation. A lot of it was the sort of helpless chatter that women resorted to when they were looking for a man to fix what was ailing them, when they well knew the trouble was inside themselves.
Cherry sat down before her, resting her chin on the heel of her hand. Her dark eyes were inscrutable. "How do you do that," Bonnie demanded? "Do what," asked the lawyer? "Just look like that," Bonnie complained?! She hated that damnable poker face. "I'm a lawyer, Bonnie," the fallen attorney reminded her. "It was part of the job." Sitting up, she said, "we get help..." The tall woman stared at her with a frown. "We need help, Bonnie. All of us," said Cherry. Gesturing, the little woman said, "we all talked about it, but nobody's really putting energy into it. We're... This whole thing is going to come apart if we don't start getting the help we need. Finn's doing it..." Leaning forward, the former attorney said, "I'll promise to seek help. I want the same promise from you. You need it as much as I do. You're... carrying burdens."
Bonnie wanted to refute that. She wanted badly to claim that she was above such things. A voice from somewhere deep inside–sounding suspiciously like Finn's voice–called her a liar. "I'm...," she started to say. "Say it, Bonnie," the little woman murmured. "Please. For your own good." "I'm carrying burdens," the candy-monarch admitted. "Ok. I'm carrying... a lot. Ok... Ok... I'll... I'll get some help." Her phone chimed. Drawing it out of the pocket of her robe, the tall princess frowned. "Fuck," she grumbled. "Ramona's demanding a meeting." "When," Cherry replied? "Right flippin' now," muttered Bonnie. "We're already late."
"You go first," Cherry told her. "I'll clean this up." "Lollipop can clean it," Bonnie replied. "It's not like we haven't both seen it before." Laughing and blushing, Cherry agreed with that. Bonnie had walked in to find her riding Finn like a horse in her predecessor's quarters in the Vaults. Not to be outdone, the princess had proceeded to just sit down on his face, bold as you please.
Washed and dressed, the pair climbed into a car, bodyguards in tow, for the trip back to the palace. "Did you ever get to sing with Finn," Bonnie murmured? Cherry had shocked her by singing in the shower. "A long time ago," Cherry admitted, "when Root-Beer was alive. You?" "Same," Bonnie replied. "We were... trying to get into a Door Lord's sanctum. It was Finn's idea to sing to get the door to open. He organized the whole thing. It's crazy, but I was already on the pathway to being a fool–to hurting him to indulge my lust for Marceline. He told me just what I was doing and just how much it was hurting him. And I didn't listen." "First step to getting our shit together," Cherry murmured. "Coming clean about the things we've done. So what's Tequila Princess so pissed off about?"
By the time the car pulled into the garage under the palace, the candy-monarch and her former subject had gone around the problem on the table a half-dozen times. Neither knew quite what to make of the whole thing. Ramona had been on good terms with Coca Princess for decades. It was out of character for the two to be at each other's throats like this. At the same time, it was more trouble when they were barely holding their own here on the far side of the world. They really didn't have time for another conflict across the ocean. Finn had been named King of Ooo, but that was starting to sound more like a suggestion than a fact.
The big man himself was just reaching the door as they arrived at the audience hall. "I was hoping you'd be here," said he. "Blanca's not so good with common." Bonnie was fluent in Spanish, having learned it in her endless wanderings before settling here. He waited for the pair to reach him before walking through the door. It was odd on its face. Typically, he would have charged right in, heedless of his own lack of skill with language or anything else.
More was coming though. Coca Princess started right in on them the minute they were through the door. She especially gave Finn the rough side of her tongue, swearing at him in Spanish and calling him a number of unflattering names. It took a moment for Bonnie to remember that Finn had dated Ramona once upon a time–a factoid Blanca probably remembered. It sometimes seemed that Finn had spent his youth chasing princesses and ended up with nothing and nobody until Simone fell into his life. No, Bonnie thought. We all pissed away our chances with him. We wanted more than we thought he had to offer, so we dumped him. It was an ugly epiphany.
As she sat herself at his right hand–the seat Simone so often occupied–Bonnie found herself thinking that might well have been her spot if she hadn't wanted somebody more mature and exciting. Cherry took the chair on his left. It was just the three of them today. Likely the others were gone–headed home to deal with their own business. She was blessed to have a son, even if she'd been forced to basically steal him. She'd been failing at that too–headed down the road to endless, eternal loneliness, just like Marcie.
Clearing her throat, Bonnie interrupted Blanca's abusive diatribe. "You stand before the King of Ooo," she announced. "How may we serve you?" The fat woman might have started swearing at them again, but Ramona interrupted, "she thinks I'm stealing her precious coca-leaves. Somebody's been lieing to her–telling her that I'm mixing coca into my fabulous Tequila-Tea." Cherry grimaced. She'd had a glass of tequila. Once. Finn had a saying he'd brought from Ramona's homeland. One tequila. Two tequila. Three tequila. Floor. She scarcely had any idea how potent tequila mixed with coca-leaves would be, nor did she really want to find out.
Blanca turned and began hurling insults and threats, mixed with a half-assed explanation of her suspicions. It was clear that somebody was cleaning out some of her fields, but Bonnie had her doubts about Blanca's explanation. The candy-monarch turned to Finn. "What are your thoughts, First Minister," Finn rumbled? That took her by surprise. She was expecting him to hit them with some pithy idea he'd made up on the spot. His blue eyes burned into hers. Flushing, the tall princess stammered, "l-let's... let's think this through." Unused to surprises and thinking on her feet, she was buying time now, and she made Tequila Princess explain the provenance of her new tea. That hardly satisfied Blanca, who kept interrupting, suggesting and insinuating how each new ingredient might have been made from her coca-leaves.
Bonnie turned to her husband, looking for him to speak. That was what these two wanted. She'd come to see that her fellow mopheads didn't always agree with what Finn had to say, but they were more willing to listen to him–a man–than one of their fellow women. Some of it was cold fear of what he might do if they didn't. Some of it was the very hands-on way he'd solved their problems in the past. A lot of it was that hormonal reaction down deep in the primitive part of their brains. It wasn't the way Bonnie herself had wanted to do business, but she saw how it could work. More to the point, she didn't want to spend time arguing with these two today. She had business with her son to attend to.
"How do these things work," Finn asked? At her frown of puzzlement, the big man prompted, "what is the science involved, First Minister...?" Her face flushed. Of course, she thought. It's right there in front of me! "Coca-leaves would make a very bad combination with alcohol," opined the tall princess. "You'd be likely to kill somebody if you tried it. The two drugs don't mix very well. I don't think the person stealing Blanca's harvest is involved in the tequila trade."
"Let us have no more talk of war," said Finn. "First-Minister, there is a man called Javier Falcón in Tequila Kingdom. Please hire him to investigate this matter on my behalf." Rising, the big man strode for the door, leaving Bonnie and Cherry in their places and a stunned Blanca staring at his back. She wasn't alone. Bonnie was also staring at her husband. "Ok," she muttered. "What just happened?" Finn deferring to her?! Something was wrong with him. Cherry got things back on track, saying, "I know of Javier Falcón. I'll get this set up. We'll find out what's behind this."
The two women found their husband in his office alone. A worried-looking Breakfast was seated at her desk, glancing back and forth to the door and the document he'd handed her to be edited and typed-up. Her eyes said it. Something wasn't right. Bonnie strode right up to the door and barged in, when Cherry might have hung back and quizzed the fallen princess on what she'd seen. "Hey," Finn greeted her. He had his nose in the account books. Hurletta had been after him to get through them for weeks. Now he was reading them and taking notes. Bonnie vaguely remembered Simone saying that she'd always taken care of the books at the treehouse. Finn was too easily bored. His ADHD wouldn't let him stay focused long enough to manage it. He'd always handled money by the seat of his pants.
"Hey, honey," said Cherry. "We should talk about some stuff..." "Can't today," said he. "Got to get through these. I've put it off too long. That's irresponsible. And I have to go work on this arm this afternoon with Dr. Chips so I'm safe to change the kids diapers..." Bonnie opened her mouth to speak and shut it again. That... didn't sound like her husband. "I'll have Beeps put some time in my calendar tomorrow morning," he said. "Really need to get through this. I owe Hurletta some time this evening, and I don't want to face her with this not finished." That was that. Cherry took Bonnie by the sleeve of her dress and half-dragged her out of there. The King shut his door and locked it, sealing out all distractions and disturbances. Burying himself in his work, the big man grappled with the ledgers and reports while a worried Breakfast sat staring at the door. Late that afternoon, the King finally opened the door to find his wife sitting there waiting in worry. "I'll need to speak to Lollipop tomorrow," he said. Kneeling at her side, the big man thanked her for all she'd done for him. Kissing her cheek, he rose and got on his way. The fallen princess stared at his back in fear. Then, when he'd gone, she rushed off to find one of the others. Something was very wrong with their husband.
Hmm... What's going on with Finn? And what does he know?