AN: This one was mostly mine, but I had help. The lead-in from Sarge, the lead-out from Joe. And with this we close this chapter of the saga... -Al
"Howard my dear, I feel as though I have had enough fun for one night," Annie said to Greg.
Greg was momentarily surprised... until he noticed the wicked grin and the sparkle in her eyes.
"Hmmm... yes, my dear... and we have an early morning ahead of us tomorrow, don't we?"
"But" Daisy chimed in, "Aren't you two time zones ahead of us? How early do you need to get up?"
"Oh Dark hundred," Greg responded, "gotta run some customer weapons to Wenatchee for a funeral." Greg lied on the spot.
"Military funeral? What are they using?" Al asked.
"Garands- they'd been using 'grenade rounds' instead of issue blanks. I got the right ammo and now they need them by tomorrow at 08:00 for an LTC that didn't respond well to chemotherapy. Besides, I think we two did enough damage and skullduggery for one evening, eh Sergeant Major?"
"I daresay- sorry to hear about the Commissioned one- but we're all marching to death from the day we are born..."
"And some just get to the head of the line before others." Greg finished, "Well, Al this has been wonderful, but now sometime in the near future you ought to drag THIS pretty Lady out my way and see what Eastern Washington is like."
"Is that an invitation?"
"Most certainly- 'yer welcome to share with us such as we got- the leaks in the roof and the soup in the pot."
Daisy and Al booth laughed at that. Al recovered and asked, "Where did THAT bit of doggerel come from?"
"Old Appalachian poem- I used to know the whole of it, but it's been a while. Not a whole lot of excitement out our way, and we like it like that,"
"Hell, Howard here is considered the 'bad influence' of the neighborhood," Annie added, "between a variety of his shenanigans with guns and explosives."
"Now Annie, I never caused any damage at that address," Greg protested.
"You'll notice how he qualified that?" Annie retorted to Al and Daisy, "but he won't mention how HALF his high school science building blew to smithereens and he was banned from chemistry..."
"They never proved I did it,"
"They pretty well guessed it- c'mon, Babe, let's go home- my feet are hurting and need attention..."
Both Greg and Annie made their goodbyes and wandered out to the gateway that took them to the library.
With their departure, Al and Daisy again separated started to walk the crowd again. The merrymakers were still going strong despite the late hour, but the serving staff was starting to flag a bit.
As he walked about, glass of ginger ale in hand, Al was accosted by an exuberant young Sphinx and her officer husband. Al allowed himself to be dragged off toward his dam, and then both were propelled to the hall, which was relatively quiet.
“So, what can we do for you?” Daisy asked amusedly. “If you want to stay here, there are plenty of bedrooms…and they’re nice and private.” She snickered evilly, and Shelley had the grace to blush a bit.
“No, we’re good. VERY good. We wanted to thank you both for” she waved her hands at the scene “all of this. We never expected this, and it’s been a night to remember.”
Justin spoke up. “After what happened a year ago, we figured no one would want to have a thing to do with this – too many things happened then that were nightmares. This is just…well it’s the wedding I wanted to give Shelley.
Thank you.”
With that, Justin stepped forward and offered his hand to Al. Al took the proffered hand and pulled the younger man into a deep hug. Releasing him, the old gentleman said “It’s been our pleasure. To be honest, in the past year you’ve both become like our children as well – and anything we can do is not enough.”
Daisy took Shelley’s hands, and said “What the old fool says goes double for me. We were here then, we’re here now and hopefully we will be for a good long time yet.” Daisy pulled the young Sphinx into a tight hug, and then released her.
“Now, why don’t the two of you go celebrate your anniversary…properly?” She snickered again, and Shelley and Justin laughed. Shelley slid her arm through Justin’s smiled broadly and said “That sounds like a WONDERFUL idea. If you two will excuse us, I do believe we’ll do just that.” With that, they headed for the entrance and their coats, and Daisy turned to Al.
“I do believe, old man, that we’ve managed a success with this party. Wouldn’t you say?”
“I do believe we have, old oater. Shall we return?”
“Let's get with it, then! We still have guests to tend to.”
The evening continued, but in ones and twos, the guests began to trickle away and Al and Daisy were kept busy distributing hugs, kisses and overcoats to their friends.
Monica and Jet, always looking so mismatched yet so right, teleported out with promises to be back soon for dinner. Glytch and the band, their task done, VORPed back out, leaving the magical sounds of the evening behind as a lasting memory along with a promise from Xera to return sometime soon with her violin.
The Houks, who they never seemed to see as much of as they wanted to, left after a brief chat.
Joe said, “Al, Daisy – thank you for the invitation. It was great to see everyone again, and” looking significantly at his wife “someone has talents she’s been hiding from me.” Sarah blushed, and chuckled quietly.
Hugs exchanged, they headed out, again with the demand that they come and spend more time than a few hours.
The elves, never fond of the word goodbye, had faded out sometime after their conversation with Xera. Al had found a small scroll at his place at the table and unrolled it, to see the fine handwriting of Emerauld.
To Al and Mistress Daisy:
Thank you for inviting us to the evening in your home. We know that you will say that we are always welcome and that this is our home as well, and know this we do, but it is always special to spend time with you, your family and the family of association that have gathered around you.
Blessings, Eme and Saf.
Eventually, the only noise in the rooms was that from the Gryphon students tidying up and gathering the partyware for return to the rental company.
Al sighed, stretched, and contemplated the room. The tidy-up was well in hand and could be left to the capable hands of Rosalita, Edward and their staff.
“Shall we do the drunk sweep, dear? Seems like we’ve been abandoned – so let’s make sure we have been.” With that, he crooked his arm and Daisy took it.
Together, they walked the passageways of Old Alexander, turning on lights and checking rooms, then moving on. Together, they cleared the first floor, then the second, neither straying far from the other.
While they walked, they reminisced. Here was Phix and Neil’s room, over here the one that Kevin shared with Bud (and thought no one knew), the other there for Jet and Monica. There was Neil’s headquarters, the other the room where Glytch had performed his white-hat wizardry. With this came the stories – the incidents, the dinners, the do-you-remember-when stories. This night of all others the memories were close to the surface, and came with little bidding.
Along with the humorous events and the day in the life stories came the others – the tragedies and the triumphs. The battle, the proposal when it looked like neither would survive, and the shattering moment when both were wounded. They spoke then, quietly, of Emerauld and her efforts on their behalf – something neither would ever forget nor feel like they had ever repaid. They owed her much – and knew it.
Then, their thoughts turned to the aftermath. The cost of their triumph had been high – too high, really, given the toll taken on the people who had occupied the rooms they walked through. They sobered for a few moments, Al lost in the thoughts of the dead, Daisy in the psychological cost to her and her children.
Finally, the tower was reached and they walked the rooms in it, turning lights on and then back off as they went. As they did, Al reminisced, Daisy laughing at the anecdotes.
“Here’s Alan and Jin’s room. We were here – briefly – one morning, if I recall correctly.”
“Indeed we were – until the floor let go! We ended up in the coal cellar, and then your damn gun case tried to kill us both.”
They both chuckled, remembering the now-gone coal cellar, the grime, and the robes passed in to them by Edward.
Ascending to the second floor, they kept checking rooms.
“Oh, yes – the bath. Do you remember when I had to rouse Tina and Stan when he got hit by the Yuan Ti poison? Damndest scramble – not sure why they bothered, but modesty is what it is, I guess.”
“Oh, you’re just disappointed because you didn’t get to see your barista naked. I know you too well, two-legs.”
“Oh? Stan is not an unhandsome young rake. I assume you would have averted your eyes, then?”
“Oh, of course not! However, I’m a centaur – we enjoy our passions while you humans are ashamed for them. This is a discussion for another day, though. I want to finish this up and get to bed – it’s really late.”
“True enough dear.”
Walking the rooms on the second floor they cleared and checked each one – till they reached one door different from the rest. This one had a brass cloisonné Union Jack screwed to it, the recesses filled with the traditional red, blue and white of the proud ensign.
Al chuckled. A few of the doors in the house wore these plaques now – Neil’s office wore a Roman battle standard, Greg and Anne’s room wore a small duplicate of his CSA belt buckle and so on. It was a small acknowledgement of the people who had spent so much time here and left the undeniable stamp of memory on the home.
They entered. So much was the same – the floor covering and paint colours had been carefully matched to the original. The furniture in the main was the same – the bureau, desk and chair had all been salvaged and stored. The bed was new, but the linens and coverlet of the same pattern.
The only jarring difference was in a frame on the wall. Al’s tuxedo jacket, tie and shirt – begrimed, blood-stained and battle-soiled as they had been when he took them off – had been neatly arranged as though being worn and preserved.
Al grimaced, the memory of how it got blood-stained too clear in his mind. “I wish you hadn’t had that done, dear. It’s a sad reminder.”
She approached him, and slipped her arms around his chest, cradling him from behind. “Sad it may be, but it’s honorable. It’s also a suitable place for it, here in your room, in the house where you, Greg and the General planned and coordinated the assault.”
“It’s still sad – I hate it. So much blood, so much loss…”
“True, love. However, look what came out of it. Our friends hale, hearty and free as you saw them tonight. You and I, my children, your business and the friends you employ, the Sergeant…I could go on.”
He turned away from the sad relic, facing her again. “I remember, and for them I am eternally grateful to your God, my Gods and any others that wander by that it came out as it did. However, right now there is another event I want to think about….and being in this room is perfect for it.”
Her lips arched upward in an almost catlike smile. ”And what might that event be?”
“Well, once upon a time there was a magic centaur, who had an amulet…and she and her lover were none too careful with the weak chain that held the amulet…”
There was a THUMP as two bodies hit the bed, and smaller thumps of shoes toed off and hitting the floor.
*giggle* “Floor stress test?”
“You wicked, wicked woman…This time, be careful with the chain…”
*~*~*~*~*~*
Before retiring for the night, Edward noticed that one small brown paper bag had been left on the table in the kitchen. Curious, he picked it up and pulled out a package inside.
Looking at its description, he chuckled to himself before noticing that there was a note inside the bag as well.
"For the lucky couple. Happy One Year Anniversary - and Many More. Pax et Amo, Phix and Neil"
Edward lifted the small ornament up to the light, the glint of the "Santaur" script underneath the garish gilding of the figure casting a glow over the kitchen.
With a smile, he slid note and ornament back into the bag, placing it back on the table. He walked over to the hallway leading to his quarters, pausing for a moment before turning off the light at the switch.
"And to all, a good night."
- From Richer Engineering - your home of all things arcane.
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--- FIN ---
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."