More than twenty people came over for Pat and Tiffany's second anniversary party, held in the downstairs dance studio. It doubled as an opportunity to display their baby girl, Mary Jasmine. Pat Sr threatened to monopolize MJ, but her grandmother made sure she was passed around equitably, to Danny, Ronnie, and even Emily, who was not that little anymore.
"You look like an angel," the elder Pat said as he took back MJ. In the corner of his eye, he made sure Tiffany was in earshot. "Just like your mother…"
"She looks like Patrick Stewart," Pat said. "They all look like little Patrick Stewarts."
The party went from lunchtime well into the evening. MJ was retired to bed long before the end, and Tiffany made frequent trips upstairs to look in on her. The party dispersed when Tiffany came down and said, "Thanks to all of you for coming. Please go now."
Danny and Ronnie stayed long enough to help Pat clean up. Tiffany disappeared back upstairs. When Pat heard MJ start to cry, he thanked them both and showed them out. He went quietly up the stairs, listening carefully. Tiffany was talking to the baby; no, she was shouting. By the time he jogged to the bedroom door, she was screaming, "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE-"
She fell abruptly silent as the door opened. MJ grew a little quieter. Tiffany was holding the baby at arms' length. It looked like MJ was shaking, but it was only the trembling of her mother's hands. Pat scooped the baby from her hands and soon soothed her. Tiffany retreated to the kitchen.
Pat followed shortly. Without looking up, Tiffany pushed back a chair, and Pat knew immediately that it was not an invitation to sit. When Tiffany looked over her shoulder, she saw MJ still in his arms. "Apart time," he said with a shake of his head, and retreated to the baby's room. When he emerged some time later empty-handed, Tiffany was waiting.
The pair stood at arm's length on their dance floor. Tiffany raised both hands, and Pat took hold of her below the wrists. "I'm Rocky," he said.
"I'm Nikki," she answered. When there was no sign of anger in his face, she slapped him, without quite pulling free of his grip. She did it again and again, swearing hoarsely. He held his pose, even when she punched him in place of a slap. "So you're Rocky? Then hiit mee!" She punched twice more, and then gave him a high kick right in the chin. Patrick dropped straight to the padded floor.
"So I'm not Nikki," Tiffany said, stepping astride her husband. "I'm much worse. I'm the psycho sailormouth slut who learned hand-to-hand from a cop and gets homicidal impulses when she has a headache, and you married me, you crazy stupid bastard! You said till death do us part, and now I'm going to kill you, and then I'm going upstairs to our sweet baby girl and WHAT DO YOU THINK HAPPENS AFTER THAT?"
Pat swept her off her feet with a roundhouse kick. "I never hit Nikki, even when I was ready to kill for what she did, and I'm never going to hit you," he said, pinning her against the mat. "I'm Luke Skywalker. I won't fight you. I won't let myself go to the Dark Side."
"Then you are going to die!" Tiffany snarled. She struggled to extricate herself, but wasn't making headway. He actually had her quite thoroughly pinned, with his legs wrapped tightly round hers. "You found one good move, but you can't hold it forever. This is real. Life is not a movie!"
"My life is my movie, and as long as I make my own choices, it's my script," he said. "Now listen to me. You got mad at Mary Jasmine, and scared her, and that's bad. But you didn't hurt her, and you didn't try to. Even with your migraine going full blast, you didn't so much as shake her. As far as I'm concerned, that means you aren't going to hurt her."
She stopped struggling, and after a while, she embraced him and kissed his chest. He firmly pushed her away. "It's apart time. We need apart time, or we could start enjoying this too much again. Love you." They kissed chastely, and then Pat went to a prop closet and pulled out a sleeping bag, while Tiffany ran upstairs.
She threw open one drawer after another, until she found what she wanted under strata of bills and receipts. It was a sealed envelope, marked, "To Tiffany, from Tommy. Open when needed."