Chapter One - Beware
"The question is," said Humpty Dumpty, "which is to be Master. That's all."
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(Lazytown, just after dawn on November 4th)
Stephanie, Sportacus and Emma were having breakfast in the kitchen when the letter arrived. She could feel him watching her anxiously as she moved about the kitchen, pausing every now and then to devour another slice of lemon. He tried hard not to seem too obvious about it, but he was continually taking heavy saucepans and boxes from her, encouraging her to rest whenever possible, dropping in on her dance classes to make sure she wasn't working too hard…
"You don't have to worry so much, you know," she said suddenly.
"What do you mean?" he asked, looking defensive.
"I can feel you watching me, all the time," she said, smiling. "It's all right. Really. I'm only ten weeks in. It's going to be fine."
He smiled back at her, but she could see the worry in his eyes.
"That is exactly what you said last time," he pointed out.
She glanced over at Emma, who had poured some of her milk onto the table, and was carefully dropping pieces of cereal into it, then sticking them to her cheeks, singing to herself as she did so.
"And didn't it turn out absolutely fine?"
"I don't believe in tempting Fate." He put his arms around her waist and sat her on his knee. "I wish there was some way I could…"
The letter fell out of nowhere and landed on the table. He looked at it sharply, and then picked it up.
"What is it?"
"Something from home," he said, breaking the large red seal that held the envelope shut. "Sweetheart, forgive me, I have to read this…"
"No problem." She got off his knee and began to clear the dishes.
His exclamation of surprise made her jump.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
"I…" he hesitated. "I have to go back home." She looked at him in shock. "If you don't mind, I mean. I'll be gone for a couple of weeks, I think, maybe a little longer. I - I don't think it would be a good idea to take you or Emma…"
"No, of course I don't mind, you know that, we'll miss you, but we'll manage… What's happened? Is everything all right?"
"Yes, I think so…well, no, not really." He sighed. "It's hard to explain."
"One of those things you can't talk about?"
"I'm sorry."
She shrugged.
"Will you ever be able to tell me?"
"It's not that I don't want to…it's just that - "
"I know, I get it. It's okay."
"No, it isn't, or you wouldn't look that way." He put his arms around her. "I'm truly sorry. I wish I could explain more."
"Even though I'm your wife, you still can't tell me?" She saw the hurt in his face, and felt guilty. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I know it's not fair of me to nag about it."
"Well, it's not fair on you either, for me to leave you when you're tired and sick and - Stephanie, will you at least tell everyone that you're pregnant, so they can take care of you while I'm gone?"
"No. Absolutely not. It's too soon. And besides, they'll just fuss and worry and - "
"Good, because that is what I want them to do while I'm not here. Please, Stephanie."
"Look, if I feel like I need some help, I'll tell them, okay?" She kissed him to silence his protests. "When do you need to leave?"
-----
"Marie?"
"It's really early, Ziggy," she sighed.
"I know, but I just wanted to ask you something…"
Marie turned uncomfortably around in the single bed, pushing her long hair away from her sloe-black eyes.
"All right, I'm awake. What's on your mind, babe?"
"It's your birthday next week."
"That's not a question, Ziggy."
"No, I know that. It's just - I was wondering…if…will you let me take you out somewhere special? Just the two of us?"
She looked at him in disbelief, and laughed softly.
"You're so cute, Ziggy, do you know that?"
"No, I'm not. I'm not cute."
"Yes, you are. Cute and adorable."
"You make me sound exactly like a dog." He chewed moodily on his thumbnail.
"Well, now you mention it…" she chuckled. "We've been going steady for months and months. I'm here in your bed - your incredibly uncomfortable single bed - right this minute. In fact, I sneaked in here after dark, through a second-floor window I might add, just so that we could spend the night together. You don't need to ask me for permission to take me out on my birthday, okay? I'd be pretty disappointed if you didn't." She laughed again. "Honestly, Ziggy, you're so sweet, and so ridiculous."
"I wish you'd take me seriously," he said despairingly.
She tried to ruffle his hair, and he ducked his head crossly out of the way.
"I do take you seriously," she said, smiling. Then she saw the expression on his face, and the corners of her mouth twitched. "Just…you know, not that seriously."
"Why not? What's wrong with me? I'm intelligent, I'm good company, I know I'm not gorgeous, but I'm not hideous or anything. I get on well with your friends. I've got good earnings potential - I'm doing a degree in dentistry, for God's sake. How can you not take me seriously?"
Marie laughed.
"You're completely adorable, honey. That's why I love you so much. Now let's go back to sleep."
He looked at her mutinously from under his floppy blonde hair.
-----
"It's too early," murmured Trixie, without opening her eyes.
"Too early for what?" asked Stingy, stretching out an arm and pressing the button on the alarm.
"Too early for anything. Go back to sleep."
"It's a quarter to seven."
"Exactly," she sighed, pulling it back again with her slim, dainty feet. "Lie down and stop fretting. It's far too early to get up."
"You're only saying that because you didn't come to bed until three," he reminded her, lying back down next to her nevertheless, and running his fingers gently over her smooth white arm where it lay outside the duvet.
"Calliope's a tough mistress," she murmured, her eyes still tightly closed.
"You were up until that hour writing epic poetry?" He snuggled closer to her, fitting himself carefully around the warm, welcoming curve of her body as she lay with her back to him.
"Is that who she is? Damn. Knew I'd picked the wrong muse. Couldn't crack the love scene for Lovers and Losers…which one should it have been?"
Stingy considered, still softly stroking her arm and shoulder.
"Erato, probably," he said at last. "I don't know, really, it's not my field."
Trixie turned and squinted at him through her eyelashes, surprised.
"Well, clearly not," she said mockingly. "You just happen to have the names of all the Greek muses at your fingertips. There's nothing more attractive than a well-read man, you know that? Anyway, I nailed it in the end, with or without the help of Erato… nearly killed me but I nailed it…oh, that feels nice…" Stingy had moved her thick black hair away from the base of her neck and begun gently kissing her. "I thought it was time for you to get up."
"I'll make time for this," he whispered, his hands growing bolder and more insistent. "If you're going to write about it, you should stay in practice, don't you think?"
"That's a lovely idea, sweetie, but I'm too tired right now…how about you come home at lunchtime instead?"
"Can't. Got a meeting. Come on, Trix, please…don't turn me down. You can just…lie here, if you like…and let me be good to you." One hand slid over her ribcage, cupped her breast and then pinched her nipple, firmly and lingeringly, and she murmured and wriggled with pleasure. "Oh, God, Trix, you drive me wild, do you know that?" His lips moving over her neck were warm and eager.
She turned over and smiled at him.
"Save it until lunchtime."
"Why not now? Please. I want you so much."
She raised an eyebrow.
"So I can feel, Mr Millionaire."
"Don't make me beg, please…"
"Would you? If that was what I wanted?"
"Probably, yes. Why? Is that what you want? Because I'll beg, Trix, I mean it - "
"What I want - " she sighed - "is to go back to sleep. Sorry."
He stopped stroking her and glared.
"Oh, come on. Be reasonable."
"I'm never reasonable. You should know that by now."
"Then be nice. Please, honey…"
"And I'm never nice either. Nothing doing. You want me? Come home at lunchtime. I'll be showered, with clean hair, ready and waiting to do whatever you want to do."
"I don't care about clean hair. I'd rather have you just as you are now, you always look perfect to me… besides, I can't, I told you, I've got this meeting. It's Red Giant, for God's sake!"
"Well, then I guess you're just in for a lonely and sexually frustrated day, aren't you, Mr Millionaire, because I am far too tired to do anything about it now..." She yawned, and closed her eyes.
He watched her longingly for a minute, then sighed and reached for his mobile phone, making sure the cone of silence was activated.
"Pixel?" he whispered. "Yes, I know what time it is, sorry…is there any chance of you handling the meeting with Red Giant this lunchtime?…What? Oh, it's just… something's come up…" he replayed this in his head, and winced. "Yuck. No, I'm fine, just a - poor choice of words. So, can you do it?…Oh, please, just this once? Look, Pixel, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important…Okay. Fair enough. Well…"
He looked down at Trixie, now fast asleep beside him. Her hair spilled across the pillow, and he could just see the curve of one small, dainty breast where the duvet had slid down over her shoulder. She stirred a little in her sleep, and the duvet slid a little lower…
"I tell you what," he said with sudden decision, "can you ask Sophie to call them to reschedule?…yes, I know what I said, but…look, if they're keen they'll reschedule. If they're not then we don't want to work with them anyway…thanks, Pixel. Sorry again to wake you. See you in a couple of hours." He closed the phone up, wandered across the huge, sunlit bedroom to the wet-room and turned on the water. Hot water streamed out of the walls, floor and ceiling, pummelling and drenching him and filling the room with steam.
"The Eagles, Witchy Woman," he said to the voice-recognition speaker Pixel had installed in the ceiling, and reached for the shower gel.
"Is that a hint?" whispered Trixie teasingly just behind him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.
"I thought you were asleep!" he said furiously, as she twined herself around him. "I've just rescheduled my meeting so I could come home for lunch!"
"Really? Fantastic. Come home at lunchtime as well."
"What? Oh, for God's sake, Trixie, don't do this, it's not fair, I've been waiting weeks and weeks to meet Red Giant…"
She looked up at him mischievously and shook her wet hair back from her face.
"Well, if you think you're not up to twice in one day, I can always go back to bed and you can call Pixel and tell him the meeting's back on. Just let me know."
He glared at her, anger mingling with raw need.
"So it's twice or nothing?"
"One should do everything in excess," she murmured, her hands expertly busy. Then she stopped, turned away and opened the tiled wet-room door. "Unless you want me to stop, of course…?"
He grabbed her arm hastily.
"Don't you even think about going anywhere…oh, God, Trixie, that's amazing…"
The bottle of shower gel fell to the floor and rolled away into the corner. Above and around them, the sounds of Witchy Woman filled the air.
-----
"Who was that?" asked Sophie sleepily, putting her arms around Pixel.
"Stingy. He wants to cancel the meeting this lunchtime."
"Really? But he's been waiting for it for weeks. I wonder why."
"I don't know. It's usually something to do with Trixie, but…" Pixel sighed. "Er - Sophie - since we're both awake, can I talk to you about something?"
She turned onto her side and patted his arm kindly. He looked at her in silence for a moment, admiring the fall of cornsilk blonde hair that spilled over her shoulders, and sighed in satisfaction.
"What?" she asked him.
"I'm really lucky," he said simply.
"Yes, you are. Was that what you wanted to talk about?"
"No." He hesitated. "Look - you know how Stingy's always saying I'm not fit to live in the real world?"
"Well, darling, he's right. You're not fit to live in the real world…but that's okay, because we don't, we live in Lazytown."
"Lazytown is real."
"Yes, I know. But it's…special."
"I suppose. Anyway. The thing is…he makes me show all my inventions to someone else before I'm allowed to give them to anyone."
She looked at him in amusement.
"And what happens if you don't?"
"I'm in trouble," said Pixel threw back her head and laughed.
"Pixel, you and Stingy are not ten years old any more. You know that, right? You're a grown man. So is he." She smiled fondly at him. "Tell me some of the times it's gone wrong in the past."
"Well, there was this Lie-detector thing I made for a party once," he admitted. "It set off an alarm whenever someone told a lie."
"And what happened?"
("All this time you've been making it up about the moon-rocks! How about that thing in a jar you said you found in Area Fifty-One?" "I did find it there, I swear to you -" (loud buzzing sound) "Damn it, and I thought you'd really been! You bastard!")
"It - well, it caused a Frat House riot, to be honest. And then there were the intelligent dolls, I was going to give Emma one for her birthday…they were kind of scary, actually. Stingy was really upset…"
("Dear God, Pixel. Look at them marching. Where the hell are they going? We have to stop them…oh, I don't believe this - there's three missing! What are we going to do?")
Sophie shuddered.
"Oh, and there was this really cool stuff I came up with once, called Euphoria. It was supposed to make you feel better when things weren't going so well. It worked fine on me, but…"
("Pixel," said Robbie menacingly, coming out of the bathroom and pointing a long, thin finger in his direction, "when I get over the effects of this hideous stuff, I swear I am coming for you - oh, for God's sake, not again…" he staggered back into the bathroom and closed the door.)
"Sweetie, are you serious? Drugs?"
"Well, Stingy's always telling me I should be more people-focused. And I thought about all the money people spend on the illegal stuff…I just thought they might like something that's safe, harmless and non-addictive that does the same thing."
She laughed. "Well, I suppose you have a point, of sorts… Er - is there any special reason that this is on your mind right now?"
"Well, the thing is," he said hesitantly, "I had a request from someone. Ziggy wants to ask Marie to marry him."
"Ziggy wants to get married?" Sophie looked surprised.
"What? What's wrong with that?"
"He just seems…kind of young."
"He's only two years younger than me."
"Is that all? Yes, I suppose it must be. He just seems…younger, somehow."
"Yes, I suppose. But anyway…he wants the proposal to be perfect. So he asked me to make him something that would show him her dreams, so he could understand her better and know what she really wants."
"And you can do that?"
"Oh, that's no problem," said Pixel absently, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. "It's finished, actually. It's just…I haven't run it by Stingy yet, is all."
"And it works?"
"Yep."
"How do you know…? Oh, Pixel, you didn't…" She looked at him in horror.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly. She slapped him crossly on the arm, then paused.
"So…what did you learn?"
He looked at her seriously.
"I never knew you were that interested in George Clooney."
"Trust me. All women dream about George from time to time." She kissed his shoulder thoughtfully. "Pixel, honey, I know you and Stingy have been friends since forever, but, you don't have to show him absolutely everything. You could ask me."
"I am asking you," protested Pixel.
"Only once you've already finished it. Or - and I admit this is a radical idea - you could just trust your own judgement."
Pixel considered this.
("Pixel," said Sportacus, putting his head around the door of the lab and smiling, "I don't know if this is something you might be able to help with, but did you know that all the trees in Lazytown Park are covered with cold spaghetti?…Ah. I thought it might be something to do with you…How did I know? Oh…I just…had a feeling…")
"I sometimes think Stingy might have a point, to be honest," he said gloomily.
"You're great," said Sophie fondly.
"I'm an idiot."
"You just need a bit more confidence. Why don't you start by taking that meeting with Red Giant by yourself?"
"No! No chance, the money-man's coming. They scare the hell out of me."
-----
"Robbie? Are you awake?"
"Awake? Of course I'm not awake. The sun's only just up, I've barely got a pulse."
"You're talking in your sleep?"
"You'd better pray that I am, David, because if I'm awake then I'm going to be very, very angry with you for making me that way. Shut up and go back to sleep."
"I've got to go to Metropolis, remember?"
"Have you? Oh yes, so you have. All right, then, off you go. Quietly."
"Will you be all right while I'm away?"
"I think I'll manage to entertain myself, David, thank you."
"And you'll eat properly and everything?"
"Not a chance. Now go away. I'll see you in two days."
