XIV. In Which A New Story Is Told

ooo

The next morning Terra took to the stove with a vengeance. The effectiveness of elixirs had disappeared with magic, but twenty hours of sleep had been almost as good. By six o'clock she'd already cooked all the breakfast and moved it to the oven to warm.

Newfound health made her restless. She went back to her room, put on her winter clothes and hurried outside to what was left of the relic shop.

When she closed her eyes and focused, Terra could see the relic shop as it had been before the earthquakes. The owner had been a jolly but unaware gray-bearded old man who always tried to make polite conversation, even when they were in a hurry. More than once they had had to free themselves from his well-intended chatter with desperate measures, such as Locke shouting "look! a fire!". Now the only remnants from those days were the record player and the enormous bed in the back room. Everything else was gray, faded and falling apart.

Then again, she thought, the bed might be in better shape if Sabin wasn't sleeping there. Even though he used it infrequently, the frame had permanently bent towards the ground. Maybe if there's some lumber left over, we could fix it up.

If he would stay...

"Good morning!" she said cheerily, addressing the bed and its mountainous occupant. "Are you going to join us for breakfast?"

He rolled over and the mattress groaned beneath him. "Uh, no, actually. I thought I would stay here, if that's okay."

"All right, but why?"

"I, uh..." He shifted forward slightly. "Just a little sick, that's all. Oughta rest a while. Nothing major." Then, in a low mumble, "It's not a high fever, but..."

"Oh, really?" Terra had to fight to keep her lips from twitching. "Well, come to the house if there's anything you need. The snow has let up for now, so we're going to do some more shoveling. I might bring in one of the pigs later."

"Yeah. I'm, uh, I'm sorry I can't help out today. I mean, it's my fault anyway, and I shouldn't have..."

She paid careful attention to his posture and embarrassed babbling. It wasn't like him to be so self-conscious. Does he regret it? "Maybe we should agree we're both to blame," she suggested, and this time she didn't hide a smile.

Sabin glanced up, startled. "Well, okay," he laughed. "Sounds good to me."

"Mama!" Laurent's piercing shriek could be heard across the village. "Maaaaamaaaaa! Where'd you go, Mama?"

"Oh dear, that's my cue. Get well soon!" She gave a short wave and darted outside, shutting the door behind her. She felt a small amount of regret for having to leave suddenly, but the children's tummies came first.

"Terra!" Duane clearly didn't approve of her running back in forth in the snow. He watched with some annoyance as Terra came in and put her fuzzy white earmuffs on the hat rack. "Don't you think you should take it easy for a day or two more? And where were you?"

"I was visiting Mr. Sabin. I think he's taken most of my cold because he's very sick."

"That's awful!" Marianna exclaimed. Susanna looked disappointed.

Breakfast was the ordinary raucous affair of shouts and spatting. Terra was grateful for the opportunity to listen, mediate and encourage even as she fell into the firing line of Vale's oatmeal artillery. Time away really did work wonders for perspective. Best of all was her security in the knowledge that a bit of time out would be more than compensated by the many years to come.

Several days passed before the cold had been stamped out of the household. Old Dunlop the pig provided enough meat to last weeks (Dmitri had had difficulty eating, as he'd loved to ride him around the barnyard), which provided a temporary relief for their dwindling stockpiles. So much snow so early in the season was a bad omen for the coming months.

Stretching small amounts of food was a creative exercise, but Terra had several tricks to make things last. She hoped nobody complained about the reboiled soup stock or her own scanty servings. It was easy to go without when the younger children complained about being hungry at night.

Day-to-day affairs plus the added work for the winter left nearly no personal time. As usual, her opportunities to relax were a few minutes spent leaning against a wall between chores. The only difference was that sometimes the wall would tousle her hair and tell her lame jokes.

She took comfort in how little things had changed. There were no serious discussions, debates or clumsy talks. It was enough to recognize what was there and take comfort in it, despite 'it' not having been clearly defined just yet.

"What's coming up in the next few weeks?" Sabin asked during one of these impromptu breaks, keeping watch on Jay and Ramir. Terra sat at the table and massaged her temples.

"I don't know. A lot depends on..." If we get more food. If the weather changes. If no one else gets sick. If Katarin has her baby on time. "Why do you ask?"

"Well..." He stretched out the word in a distinctly worrisome way. "I should be leaving soon. I mean, I haven't set a definite date yet, but it's been two weeks already, and..."

"Oh." Of course he would be leaving. Why wouldn't he? She ought to be more surprised that he'd stayed so long. Still, the thought pricked at her unduly. All she could manage was another acknowledging "Oh."

"But don't---"

Ramir cried out in pain, and Terra instinctively rushed to the scene. She put an arm around each child.

"He shot it at me!"

"It was an accident!"

"Now, now," she said, rubbing the red spot on Ramir's button nose. "Tell me what happened. I'm sure nobody meant to hurt anybody else, but let's listen to each other before we make any accusations." And so, absorbed in the positions of judge, jury and nursemaid, Terra had no time to question the extent of the role Sabin was going to play in her future.

ooo

Sabin was quiet as he worked, preoccupied with making notes of all the things around the house and barn that were lacking. He kept a mental inventory of everything to go on the biannual shopping list, from sugar and salt to linens and shoes. When he'd first started living on his own, it had amazed him how many things were necessary for just him and the house. Seventeen people and thirty animals were something else entirely.

He had just finished feeding the animals (at least four more feed bags) and had moved on to clearing out the yard. After three days the blizzard abated, but a steady stream of lighter snowstorms had followed. He'd had to chop more and more firewood every week. Although it was the kind of simple, honest work that he liked best, it also filled him with respect for what Terra was able to do. How could she manage everything by herself when he could barely keep up his end?

It had been a little more than four months since she'd come to Castle Figaro for a vacation. He couldn't say that he was shocked at where he was now; he would've come back to Mobliz no matter what had happened, but today he saw his responsibilities in a whole new light.

"You know the callings of God are as varied as His creations."

...is this mine?

Well, one thing was certain: he'd never worked half as hard in his life. As if the physical aspect wasn't enough, the mental and spiritual discipline required was astonishing. Why hadn't anybody ever told him being a parent was so hard? People who raised kids ought to get medals. And for those who raised other people's children, who gave everything they had to providing for them...

There weren't rewards enough for her, not on this earth. There weren't accolades enough to praise her. He wondered if she'd been born with that superhuman potential to nurture everyone in need. Nobody could meet her and walk away unchanged.

Shoveling went a little faster when he thought of her at the window, and more so at the thought of how yesterday she'd cornered him while he scrubbed dishes. It seemed strange that the most completely exhausting work he'd ever done was also the most fun. The payback that came from watching children grow was better than any material gift.

Sabin looked up into the sky. Facing the snow as it fell gave him a weird, vertigo-esque dizziness. Without the blazing desert sun he felt distant from God, but he appreciated the sense of humility.

"If this is what You want," he began, spreading his arms. His words seemed to be muted by the snow, so he took a deep breath and spoke louder.

"If this is what You want, I'll do it. This is a lot more fulfilling than anything I've done before.

"If You'd make this my calling, I'll accept it.

"It would be a blessing..."

He trailed off, having nothing else to say. When he turned to the house he saw two oil lamps had been lit in the windows, the family signal for dinnertime. He gladly hoisted the shovel over his shoulder and headed back inside. Ahead of him Hannes, Lue and Marianna were talking animatedly.

"What was he whining about?"

"You know how picky he is about people touching his stuff..."

"He's never been very interested in us, at least not the way we are. He sees things differently, I think. He's not entirely on our level."

"Haha, that's true, isn't it? You would know."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing..."

They went into the house, laughing amongst themselves, and Sabin caught the door behind them. Even though he knew better than to stand there and let a draft in, again he had to stop and absorb the scene.

The hearth had been lit and all the cast-iron pots were bubbling. Duane was putting food on a plate for Katarin, who rarely left the bedroom as of late. Simon sat in a corner with some of the younger children, reading aloud from a book of fairy tales and occasionally interjecting cynical commentary about the realism of a given story. A hard day's work had worn out everyone too much to cause trouble. The subdued, content atmosphere was better than any royal welcome.

"Oh! Hi, Sabin!" Terra gestured for him to take a seat. "We're just about ready to eat. I know we don't have a lot, but I think it's all right. How was your work?"

"Pretty good. It's a lot easier to shovel now that the snow is drier. Hey, dinner is..." His plate had been stacked with two slices of ham, mashed potatoes and boiled asparagus. A few sliced pears with cinnamon on top were piled on the side.

We don't have a lot? He looked around at the family, the fire, and the home-cooked food. It was the kind of simple storybook peacefulness he'd always longed for as a child. Sure, sometimes things got hellish, but even at its worst the conflict in Mobliz was always genuine. There was no political artifice or double-meaning. Not a lot?

This is everything Edgar's ever wanted.

Something about the cracked plate and its unassuming food put a lump in his throat. He'd finally admitted that this was a future he would gladly accept, but seeing it at work around him was overwhelming. After so many years of aimless wandering, never fully dedicated to anything beyond doing the best he could, here was what might well be the beginning of the rest of his life, and...

No. He couldn't have it, not yet. He had one last thing to do.

Sabin walked over to where Terra was carving the last of the ham. He was only dimly aware of moving, or anything else in the room. "Terra?" he said, having just enough presence of mind to notice how odd he sounded.

"Yes?" She heard the unfamiliar tone of voice and put down the carving knife. "What is it?"

"Can I...can I talk to you tonight? Later tonight, I mean." If he had been paying more attention, Sabin would've noticed Susanna, Pamina and Marianna immediately shushing the others, but at the moment he failed to see anyone who wasn't Terra.

"Of course, but..."

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't honestly promise there was nothing to worry about. Instead he said "All right, thanks", gave her a light pat on the shoulder, and sat down at the table. The trio of girls exchanged scandalized looks.

He'd expected his aloofness would go unquestioned, being lost in the typical back-and-forth battles of conversation, but they had scarcely said grace when Dmitri asked "Mr. Sabin, are you sad?"

"What? No, no way." With some effort he snapped out of it and gave the boy a wan smile that wouldn't have convinced a baby, and definitely not an incredibly astute five-year-old. "Just tired, you know? And a lot on my mind. Sometimes when I think too much I space out."

"Hey, me too! So what'cha thinkin' about?"

"Just things I'll have to do in the coming week. I should be leaving soon, so..." The disappointed chorus of "aww"s warmed his heart. "C'mon, it's not for long. Anyway, I have errands to run. I'll be back once I've got everything."

"Will you buy me a chocolate bar?" Marianna said eagerly.

"Marianna!" Terra exclaimed.

The children rarely contradicted her, but the prospect of candy was one thing everyone could agree on. Several people raised individual petitions for treats.

"But Mama, we haven't had chocolate bars since before the earthquakes."

"Yeah, all we've had is the baker's kind."

"And that's so grainy, too..."

"My birthday cake was supposed to be chocolate, but it didn't work!"

"Daddy used to buy me chocolate bars from Narshe."

Terra had a hard time resisting when the little ones joined in. "It's not the chocolate itself that I mind," she corrected, "but the way it was asked. Marianna, you know to say 'please' when asking for a favor."

The firm words had their intended effect. "Oh! I'm sorry, Mr. Sabin, I didn't mean to sound pushy..."

"No, don't worry about it." He laughed to let her know all was forgiven. "I tell you what. I'll buy some chocolate for all of you and some good baking chocolate for Mama. That way you can have the sweet kind for yourselves and cookies."

He cautiously raised his eyebrows at Terra as thought to say Am I overstepping your authority? and she shook her head. Years of fighting together had made them quite good at communicating silently, although nowadays it was less of "I'll heal while you take over" and more "make sure the boys don't set anything on fire". It was still a useful skill to have.

His mind began to drift again, inching towards the constant whisper of what next, but he refused to let any amount of speculation ruin ham and mashed potatoes. The tough questions could wait until after the meal. For now all he wanted was enjoy a good family dinner.

ooo

Bedtime wasn't a point, but a process; from six to ten o'clock the kids would slowly file off to their respective rooms. Sabin waited until every last door had been shut before he went to find Terra.

He finally found her in the living room with her quilting. It was uncharacteristic of her to retreat to the darkest, coldest corner of the house to work.

"Are you okay?" he asked lamely.

"I don't know," she said in a petulant tone, clearly annoyed by such an inquiry. "I thought I was. What is it that's so serious that the children couldn't know? They heard you, and I think they're a little frightened."

A flat-out nasty retort would've been preferable to meek scolding. He felt like slime. "I know. It's my fault for not paying more attention, and I'm sorry for that. The fact that I was so worried shouldn't be an excuse."

"What is it that's---" She broke off mid-sentence, checking her fear with the sudden recollection of another problem. "Not inside."

"Eh?"

Terra raised her index finger to her lips. "In case anyone just so happens to be at the stairs, yes?"

They bundled up in their heavy snow gear and headed out towards the pastures. As they walked Sabin grit his teeth and tried to think of what he planned to say. It seemed sort of abrupt to just lay it out as it was, but he had never been any good at preambles, and she deserved to hear the whole truth exactly as he'd experienced it, but...

"Tell me, please," she blurted. Terra hugged both arms to her chest; he didn't know whether she did it for warmth or security. Few things wounded her like being left out, especially when it was intentional. She equated isolation with not belonging, an impression held over from her earliest days with the Returners.

I can't lie to her. And I've already stalled long enough. There's no better way to put it than the way it is, even if it's hard...and it's not just about her, it's...

She has to know.

And so it all came out, prefaced clumsily with his trip to Thamasa with Relm, and how Strago had asked such pointed questions about life in Mobliz, and then the old man's request for her future, and how he'd expected both of them to be a part of it, and the idea of what would happen to Relm without the grandfather she adored, and it was just too much---

Terra occasionally stopped him between anguished, disorganized clauses. The story unfolded in jerky two-step motions as he spoke and she asked for explanation. By the time he finished they were both breathless with shock.

"So Strago is..."

"I don't know, it could've already happened. I meant to tell you as soon as I came back, but Macilvain...and I didn't know when..." Bitter though it was, Sabin was tremendously relieved to finally say it all. It had been too much to carry alone. "He wants her to live here. He says there's no better place in the world for her to be, and I have to admit I agree with him. But that doesn't make it any easier for you and the family."

"Sometimes I forget how young she is. She saved our lives a few times, and she was there with us at the very end. She's always been so grown-up in spite of herself." Terra was taking the information in a bit at a time in her usual roundabout way, thinking about the bits and pieces before she tackled the whole. "I wonder if she thinks children her own age are immature? Strago once told me she didn't have any friends in Thamasa because the other children thought she was strange. What if she doesn't get along with the others? What if she doesn't want to? I don't know what she's going to be feeling when Strago is gone..."

"There's no denying it's gonna be hard. Relm said she didn't love anyone in the world but her grandfather." Damn! It was probably the least helpful thing he could've said under the circumstances and he mentally kicked himself for it. "But she really does care about you. She also loves Strago enough to respect what he wants."

"I never would have imagined that he wants this," she said weakly.

"Why not? No amount of money or privilege could make a better environment for children than here. Trust me, I would know. I grew up with everything in the world and it was miserable."

She stared at him, surprised by his passionate endorsement. "Sabin..."

"You won't have to do it by yourself, either. Strago said he wanted me to help, and I want to. Not just because he told me, or that I feel obligated, but it's what I'm here to do." He wasn't sure if he was even making sense anymore, but he plunged ahead anyway. She deserves to know what I feel. "I have to protect what's important to me, and the most important thing to me is..." No correct grammar was enough to express the depths of his conviction. "This. This place, this family, everything it means---we fought for the sake of the next generation, but you're actually raising it, and that you have enough love and compassion to heal the kids after they've lost so much.

"You have the power to make people happy and hopeful again. That's why Strago wants Relm to be with you. It's not enough that we saved so many lives; we have to rebuild them, too. And I want to be a part of that...here with you, with Relm, with everybody. It's not just our future that matters, but theirs."

"I..." Terra's eyes brimmed with tears and she turned away. It was some time until she was composed enough to speak. "I suppose Strago wouldn't want me to cry, would he?"

He hadn't expected that response, but it figured. Every time he thought he was closer to understanding her she did something unpredictable. "No, he wouldn't. I think he'd hit you over the head with his cane."

"You're right. I'll try not to. And...you wouldn't like it either, right? You'd say I'd get..." She sniffled a bit. "You'd say I'd get dehydrated..."

The falling snow was a cold and fragile barrier between them, burying everything else that should have been said. At last Sabin decided it was good enough to do what felt right and leaned down to rest his chin on the top of her head.

"When will you leave?" she asked softly.

"I'd been thinking the morning after next. Is that okay?"

"Yes, of course it is. You could've left sooner; I wouldn't have minded."

"I needed to make some decisions before I left."

The full meaning of decisions hung heavy in the air, and she hesitated before responding. "So when you come back with Relm, how long do you want to stay?"

Her choice of words made it hard to answer honestly, so he decided to address it as though she'd asked how long he ought to stay. "I'll be there for as long as I can help everybody adjust," he said. Is that all right?"

"That might be a long time."

"Do you mind?"

"No. I think the children really like having you here. It isn't that you're a guest, or that they can get away with more when you're around. You help and teach them things I can't. They benefit so much from your experience."

"Yeah, well..." He wished she'd say something about what his being there meant to her. "In the end, it's all for their sake. But that doesn't mean that what happens now is insignificant."

Vague as it was, Terra apparently knew what was implied. "Sometimes I have a hard time distinguishing myself from them. I've spent so long trying to see things from their perspective that I can't necessarily find my own, and I can be mistaken by thinking that I want something that's really just for them."

What is she...? "Are you saying that I'm---"

"...but you give me that sense of self again. You remind me of where I stand with everything else. I always thought I could only know myself by what I did for other people.

"You always give a hundred percent of yourself to any cause. When I first met you and Edgar I thought both of you were the biggest people ever made. Then when Locke told me the story about the coin, I had this picture in my mind of you holding the whole world on your shoulders so that he could rule. I wanted to do something like that, to make a difference in a way everyone could see. And you never seemed unhappy or scared of what we were up against. Do you remember what you said just before we went into the tower, that day I was running around and talking to everybody on the ship?"

"Uh..." Come to think of it, he did, if only because of the somber talk he'd had with Edgar beforehand. "But it wasn't a lot, was it? Just 'let's go' or something like that?"

"You would always do that. You never shrank from anything. Even at the very end, you laughed. I thought it was brave."

Edgar didn't think so. Later that night, in the midst of celebrating with enough alcohol to flood the Serpent Trench, a very intoxicated Edgar had complained about how he was the only person in human history whose little brother had embarrassed them in front of God. "I dunno. It's not like I spent a long time thinking about it. It's just true."

"But that's special too. None of us know what's right all the time, but you would always know what's true. When I started thinking like that, too, I could see who I am as...me, not just someone else's reflection of myself. I think that's a lot to learn, even if it doesn't sound like very much."

"It sounds like plenty. I know how hard it was for me to ever stop being just an heir, or some potential political threat. Training with Master Duncan was a big part of learning to really identify myself.

"I know what it's like. I'm glad I could've been part of that for you."

Terra tilted up to look at him, her expression playful. "You'd be just as glad to be a part of stopping fights and shoveling fertilizer?"

"You know I am," he said, completely serious even as he zipped up her jacket so she was nothing more than a pair of annoyed green eyes glaring furiously at him from behind a scrunched-up fur hood.

ooo

Terra noticed it was harder and harder for Sabin to leave Mobliz with each subsequent trip, due in part to the increasingly heavy kids that would cling to his leg. She listened as he assured everyone he wouldn't be gone for more than a month, promised that he'd share any funny stories that happened along the way, and absolutely swore that he would come back with ample quantities of chocolate. After all the goodbyes had been exchanged (and an oath of good behavior extracted from Vale), she walked with him to the very end of the village.

"So it's just you against the lions for a while now," he laughed.

"I have three years of experience doing this! I think I know how."

"You sure do. Just don't go overboard, okay?"

"I've learned my lesson. And if you see him, tell Setzer he should get Edgar into trouble now, unless royal protocol endorses a king who's occupied with personal things." She sighed, thinking of the wonderful upper room in the top of Castle Figaro and the way Edgar had confided in her of his own loneliness. "He should have some fun of his own before the big day."

"I'll do that. You have fun, too. I'll be back soon, and I don't know when you'll..."

"Today at lunchtime." Terra had stayed up late thinking of the best possible way to say it, but in the end she'd decided she would tell them in the same way she'd first told them about all her old friends.

"Great, thanks. If that's, uh..." He scratched his head, the telltale sign that he was a little unsure of himself. "I'll be home soon, so---"

She could tell he hadn't been expecting her to grab him by both stubbly cheeks and kiss him goodbye, which was what made it so tremendously entertaining. Sabin just shook his head at her.

"...you're really something else."

"Do you mind?"

"No," he said emphatically, and demonstrated the commitment to his belief on this point. "A-anyway, I'll be home before you know it. As hard as it'll be, it's nothing we can't handle, right?"

"That's right!" Terra remembered a slogan Setzer had volunteered for the Returners so many years before. "We might not know what the job is, but we get it done!"

He laughed again, waved one last time to everyone watching back at the house, and left Mobliz.

ooo

E P I L O G O S

ooo

If there had been a port on the south side of the Serpent Road, Sabin could've been there in half the time. He would've been more than willing to swim it if not for the freezing temperatures, and none of the trees in the forests were fit for making rafts. With no viable shortcuts, he hurried to Albrook as fast as the weather (and his legs) would permit.

He was passing through the central continent one particularly sunny afternoon when he encountered a heavyset, balding man in hiking gear. Sabin nodded politely as he went past, and the man said by way of acknowledgement:

"God be with you on all your paths."

Sabin whirled around. "And also at your homes," he said.

The man turned to stare at him. His tiny eyes went wide with amazement. "A member of the order?"

"Yes, Father...ah..."

"Bartok, thank you. I hope you'll forgive me and my rather poor condition, but I stopped the traveling work after I became an abbot. Pitiful though it is, I'm only out now because I'm on my way home. I was called to give last rites to a great man up north."

Great man... It was harder to be detached when he knew so many people in so many places. "If you don't mind my asking, who was he, Father?"

"Ah, he didn't give me the privilege of his real name. He didn't even call for me at all; I was only there to bless the body. In life, I knew him as a bitter man who had sought death and failed, but in his crippled condition somehow had prestige enough to acquire a great deal of wealth. I don't believe he ever cared for any of it, though. He had requested that his money be given to a young artist he had apparently doted upon. Still, I'm told he was thankful to die at last."

Sabin immediately recalled the man who had given Relm such a generous donation for her work. If so, why, and what would it mean for Strago's plans? There was no time to question the abbot now, and it didn't seem as though he knew anything more. Perhaps Relm would be able to tell him something when they met again.

They talked a bit more before exchanging goodbyes and going their separate ways. Although the conversation was brief, it gave Sabin plenty to think about. The Bandit King was certainly not the first eccentric to be enchanted with Relm's work, and couldn't possibly be the last. Would she decide she didn't need any supervision? It was very likely he would arrive in Thamasa with Strago still alive and well. What if Strago saw the incredible opportunities for his granddaughter and changed his mind?

He was still mulling over these things when he stopped for a quick meal in Albrook. Unfortunately, any potential for progress with his thoughts was blugeoned to death with the arrival of a loud courier and his entire gilded entourage. Sabin wondered if he just ought to stay otu of all bars altogether for everybody else's sake.

"I beg your pardon!" the courier announced. "By royal decree of His Majesty King Edgar, my company is to seek out every place of public meeting along our route until our recipient is found!"

Sabin jumped up out of pure instinct, paying no attention the pitcher of beer that fell over. "Edgar?" he repeated, his voice shaking. "What's Edgar want?"

"That's His Royal Highness to you, you cur---"

"That's my brother," he snapped back, both out of heightened stress and reawakened resentment for an etiquette he had always despised. He resisted the urge to throw something at everyone who gasped theatrically at this new revelation. "What does he want? Who does he want? Is it for me?"

"Y-Your Royal Highness...!"

"I don't care! What's the news from Edgar?"

"Forgive me, Your Royal Highness---er, ah, Prince Sabin Figaro---"

"Wait a minute!" screeched a new, different voice. Standing in the doorway was a gasping, frantic-looking young man. He tried to push past the royal attendants, but suddenly found himself blocked by a swarm of spears. "Wait, wait, don't! No! I have a very urgent message for Sabin Figaro, and I was told not to stop anywhere until I found him!"

"That's His Royal Highness to you," the courier said again, pleased to have found someone on whom he could successfully use the line.

"Hey, come on! I haven't slept since I got to the mainland! They said this was a really urgent message and my life depended on it."

"Excuse me, but I was speaking to His Royal Highness---"

"But I came all the way from Thamasa!"

Sabin took a deep breath. Even though his first reaction had been cold-blooded panic, now he was beginning to dread that he knew exactly what was going to be said. "Well, go on," he demanded. The anticipation was palpable. "I don't care who goes first. Just---just tell me! What is it?"

The End

Many thanks. Please review (and it's still not too late to do a review per chapter!). If you missed the story's hot, sexy yaoi subplot, or you just want to be in on the other inside jokes, go to the website listed on my profile for a special surprise.

Again, thank you for everything.