It did work out.
It worked out so well.
It worked out so, so well in fact that Servilia could finally stop harping at Brutus about how few grandchildren she had. None, in fact, as she liked to remind him. No grandchildren at all. And Portia discovered something better than Stoicism. And yes. It involves the letters B and C and it isn't referring to a year.
In the end, Portia didn't want anyone else seeing her darling, precious, super-sexy- I mean honourable- Roman Eagle naked. She was all possessive like that. So she bought every copy of that calendar ever printed. This might have annoyed a less forgiving husband, but due to his mad skills on the stock market, and going by the generally blissed out expression on his face, Brutus really didn't care.
Thus, Cassius' evil schemes were foiled, the ladies of Rome had to make do with yet another calendar starring the one, the only, the incredibly inebriated Marcus Antonius (No one was complaining really), and technically speaking, the Senate won the great battle of the Pinup Calendars. They basked on their laurels briefly, but once word got out that their idea of a victory party involved reruns of the senate C-SPAN, and the Army was throwing one hell of a 'Defeat Party' over at the Campus Martius, public opinion swiftly returned to Their Boys in Red. The profits from the bar and food trucks alone (and whatever was going on in that dark room off to the side that Caesar wasn't ever supposed to know about), more than beat the profits from the calendars, however much money Portia had ended up spending in the end.
And finally, to the delight of everyone who never had to look at Brutus' sad corgi face on Valentine's day again, the bedroom of the Junius household was a much improved, and much more frequented space. As was the couch, the kitchen counter, and the shower (yes, dear reader, they did finally leave the lights on). Not to TMI anyone or anything. And if Antony had somehow gotten his hands on an advance copy of Brutus' calendar, no one needed to know. He certainly wasn't going to tell. But I'm sure, if you ask him very, very nicely, and your name isn't Caius Cassius, you might just be able to sneak a peak.
The End