1987

Caspian couldn't remember the last time he woke up with a hangover, but it sure felt like he had one now. He also noticed a familiar taste in his mouth, like an old boot or something. He knew better than most people that when pickings were slim enough you'd eat anything you could, but sometimes they were slim even by his standards and he'd had to make do with inanimate objects most people wouldn't think possible of consumption. Leather boots had come to be a favorite back when they were plenty to go around, but most of the time he wound up with some cheap imitation instead, that's what he thought he was tasting right now.

Finally managing to force his eyes open, he saw that he was lying on top of a bed in a room somewhere, the sunlight was pouring in the windows but was tinted due to the red curtains it was coming through. A sickening reddish pink tint that made him want to pluck his eyeballs out and go back to sleep so he wouldn't have to see it anymore. He closed his eyes again but didn't get a chance to sink back into unconsciousness because of the sounds he was hearing from, what he guessed to be, the bathroom.

Caspian couldn't even remember coming into this room last night, wherever it was, let alone with anybody in his company, so who was trying to throw up in the bathroom? That was the question. As Caspian tried to get the rest of his body to comply with the electrical circuit orders of his brain to each limb and get up from the bed, he realized the room they were in was some kind of cheap tacky hotel room; the kind that people went in for a quick hookup for a few hours or an occasional night, and then left the next morning trying to pretend that the previous night had never happened. And the question reiterated, how the hell had he gotten here? And why had he even come here of all places last night?

He finally managed to get his feet on the floor, no small feat given he felt like there was an earthquake occurring directly under him, but he managed to keep his balance and staggered over to the bathroom door, wondering what in the hell he'd had to drink last night? He couldn't remember feeling this buzzed out since…no, come to think of it, he didn't remember anything this strong even back in Prohibition. Bathtub gin was not a bad choice when it was the primary choice, but it couldn't hold up to stuff he'd had in centuries past.

From the other side of the door he could hear the occupant let out one particularly body splitting choking cough, followed by a few quiet huffs. Almost immediately afterwards, the door swung open and Caspian just about fell into the room.

"Tell me we didn't do what I think we did last night," Torchy Albright slowly walked into the main bedroom suite and staggered back towards the bed. Already she wasn't a particularly bronze colored person, but this morning she seemed to be even paler than usual. And whatever the hell she'd been wearing last night, was apparently gone and replaced by something short underneath a long black unbuttoned shirt that fit her like an extra large shawl, or maybe a straitjacket. Her short black hair, while never long enough to do anything with, stuck up on all sides today like she'd just stuck a key into an electrical outlet.

Last night had not yet begun to re-register in Caspian's mind, so he settled for asking, "Do what?"

Torchy opened her hand and revealed a gaudy ring with a red stone in the center that she was holding.

"I just coughed this up in the bathroom," she told Caspian, "I knew I could feel something poking me in the gut."

Already Caspian's alcohol soaked brain was starting to put the pieces together, and he didn't like the picture he was getting.

"It can't be…" he started to say.

Torchy looked to him with a murderous scowl and she replied, "We got married last night."

"It's not possible," Caspian told her.

"Oh yeah? What's this then, a Crackerjack prize?" Torchy asked.

"Well it sure as hell didn't come from me," he said.

"It didn't come from me either," Torchy responded, "So then who did it come from?"

Caspian gave it a moment of serious thought, and concluded, "Maybe we ate them."

Torchy rolled her eyes and commented, "We could never get that lucky. Where the hell are we anyway?"

"You tell me and we'll all know," Caspian remarked.

Torchy squeezed her eyes shut and looked like she was having a migraine and moaned to herself, "Oh my God, we can't possibly…where's the phone?"

Caspian watched her blindly stumble across the room until she found the phone on the nightstand by the bed and he asked her, "Who're you calling?"

"I don't know, maybe I can get the front desk and find out where the hell we even are," she said, then thought better of it and hit the disconnect button on the switch hook, "No, I know…I…I remember seeing somebody last night…Parks, that dip from the D.A.'s office, I'll call him and see if he knows what happened last night."

"I think you could save yourself the trouble and just slit your throat now," Caspian advised her.

"Oh shut up," Torchy grumbled as she tried to remember the right number to dial.

Torchy felt her whole neck knot up to hold at any angle, so she threw herself backwards on the bed and let her feet hang in the air as she listened to the phone ring, and ring, and then…

"Hello?" she said in a tired dragon voice, "Who is this, Parks? …Uh huh…this is Torchy Albright, do you…" her eyes opened halfway with a wide expression as she asked, "What do you mean 'congratulations'? What's…what…" her whole expression dropped as she looked to the side, "You are not serious…you can't be…I'll kill you Parks, I'll kill you for this."

Caspian made his way back over to the bed and wrangled the telephone receiver away from Torchy and managed to hang it up just before the cord snapped clear out of it. "Well?"

"He confirmed it," Torchy replied as she threw herself forward and up into a sitting position, "We got married last night right here in this cheap gaudy hotel. Apparently there was a whole little celebration, a whole bunch of wine and champagne and some confetti and rice, no music though, thankfully. Parks and a couple of the bailiffs from the courthouse and one of my old judges were all here as witnesses…how the hell did this happen?"

"Don't ask me," Caspian told her.

"Why not?" she replied, "Who else should I ask?" she looked at him scowling and said, "How the hell did we get married? Why in the hell would we ever get married?"

That was a question it was plain to see Caspian was just as clueless about as she was.

"Oh my God," Torchy groaned as she grabbed two handfuls of her hair and rocked back and forth on the bed, "There's got to be a way out of this."

"You were the lawyer," Caspian reminded her, "Just get it annulled."

"Right," she jumped to her feet, "That's what we'll do, we'll…" she was just about to the door when she skidded to a stop, "Wait a minute…wait a minute…what the hell would we tell them? You can't just get annulled, there has to be a reason."

"And there is," Caspian pointed out, "We were both apparently smashed completely out of our skulls last night, they still take that as a viable reason, don't they?"

"That's right," Torchy nodded, "That would work…" she stumbled around the room picking her clothes up off the floor and getting dressed, "I can't believe this, I can't believe I could actually get drunk enough to say 'I do' to you."

"You?" Caspian asked, "I haven't been this drunk in…"

Torchy picked up on what wasn't being said and she turned to him and asked, "What is it?"

Caspian was shaking his head, "There's no way I could've been that drunk, there's no alcohol made under law in this day and age that's that potent."

"You mean somebody slipped us something old and strong?" Torchy asked.

Caspian tried to recall the events of the night before. Unfortunately it was all a blur, so he couldn't even be sure if anybody who had been present for the wedding last night had been an Immortal too…if they had.

"I'll kill him," he said.

"Who?" Torchy asked as she went over to him.

He looked to her and answered venomously, "My brother."

"Which one?" Torchy asked, "You said you have 3 of them, didn't you?"

"Yeah but there's only one who'd be stupid enough to try something like this," Caspian said, "Ironically enough he was supposed to be the smartest of us all…ha."

"You mean your brother was behind this?" she asked.

"He'd have to be, it's the only thing that makes any sense."

"It doesn't make any sense, how could he possibly have put all this together?" she wanted to know.

"You never met my brother, I've known him for over 2,000 years, believe me, it's possible. He always was a cunning bastard, this just confirms it."

All of a sudden Torchy decided she needed to sit down.

"You mean to tell me that not only was this guy here last night and I don't even remember meeting him…but that he's the one who orchestrated this whole thing? He purposely got us drunk enough we'd do something this stupid?"

"It's not beyond the realm of his abilities, trust me," Caspian told her.

"Why would he do that?" Torchy asked, "He's never even met me, why would he do something like that?"

"Precisely because he is a sadistic bastard who's still trying to get back at me for what happened 2,000 years ago," Caspian answered.

Now he had Torchy's attention and she asked him, "What happened 2,000 years ago?"

A small snort of a laugh worked loose as Caspian recalled, "In determining poisonous plants from edible ones, I came across one that had such an effect on the consumer…" he looked at her and explained point blank, "If you were to roll up every single acid trip anybody has ever been on in the whole 1960s, it still wouldn't compare to what one dose of that plant could do."

"So you gave it to your brother?" Torchy asked, only mildly in disbelief.

"Gave it to him, hell, I coated his whole dinner with it one night, he spent 12 days ranting and raving like a lunatic and acting like an idiot…" he almost reveled as he recalled, "When the mighty fall it's ugly, but it was also funny as hell once he recovered and remembered what he'd done in his 2-week stupor."

"And this is how he gets his revenge?" Torchy asked suspiciously.

Caspian headed over to the window and tore back the hideous curtains and looked out into the morning in the street down below, "He made sure somehow that we got married last night, that's about the worst thing he could've done. He's no amateur, he knows what he's doing."

Torchy tried putting the pieces together in her mind and she said, "That would have to explain where this ugly ring came from…that much I know was neither of our doing. That little bastard just thinks of everything, doesn't he?"

"Oh he tries," Caspian answered, "And when I get my hands on him I'm going…"

In two steps Torchy had crossed over to join him at the window and she told him, "Now hang on just one minute you sawed off rodent…before you kill your brother, I want to meet this bastard face to face, I want to get a good look at what you're related to."

"I already told you before," Caspian growled, "We're not related, Immortals have no relations to anyone."

"I don't care," Torchy shook her head, "I still want to see what kind of people you come from."

"You would," he responded.

"Come on, Caspian, what's the worst that could happen?" she asked.

He snorted and told her, "You show a stunning lack of imagination if you really have to ask that."

"Fine, I get to meet him, then we can both beat the crap out of him," Torchy told him.

Tempted though Caspian was to take on the task of disemboweling Methos himself ever so slowly, after a minute of considering it, he had to admit that idea had some appeal to it too.

"Alright," he concurred, "Fine, we'll find him and we'll both kill him."

"That's all I ask," she replied haughtily, "Now, how do we find him?"

"He's not dumb enough to stay in the area after what he did last night," Caspian thought aloud, "He'll be putting as much distance between himself and this place as is possible."

"So what's the furthest point from here?" Torchy asked, "Bora Bora?"

"We are not going there," Caspian told her.

"Why not?" Torchy asked, then it hit her, "Oh…you mean because people would think we're going there for..."

"Let's just get this damn marriage over with as quickly as possible," he said firmly, "It might not seem like it based on the company I keep, but I have a reputation to maintain."

"Yeah your reputation's really in danger," Torchy snorted, "Guy runs around biting people's throats out and eating cockroaches, yeah being married to me is really going to ruin your image…I need a knife."

"What for?" Caspian asked.

"Because," his new wife answered, "If I start to remember things from last night and I recall seeing something I wish I hadn't, I'm going to have to stab my eyes out."

"Oh shut up," he warned her.

"Make me, dragon puss," she dared him, and then it hit her, "Oh my God we already sound like we're married. I think it's too late for us already…but we're still killing your brother, right?"

Caspian really should have disemboweled himself for thinking this, but it started to dawn on him that maybe being married to this thing wasn't the worst thing the world that could've happened.