Fantasy A Little Night Music by TMaskedWriter

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"I get that you love them as much as I do, Helen. And I know you'd still be with one or both of them today, if the thought of being either of their 'second choice,' much less both of them, wasn't too much for you. They never make me feel that. In fact, Julie was worried I might after they got back from seeing you before. They didn't need to worry, but... er... I really liked how they went about it.

That's what motivated me to call you that first time. I had never seen either of them worry about anything until they got home."

"You were protecting your family." Helen agreed. "I was some bad influence from their past who'd hurt you and managed to buy my way back into their hearts, like I tried to buy my way into yours. Again, I find myself unable to blame you at all."

"That night, that's what I thought I was doing; protecting them. When I moved in, Monday through Thursday were 'Just Us Time.' I was happy to give it to them; still am. I was... staying with some friends for the weekend when I got the news about you. They've called it 'Just Us and Susan's Always Welcome to Join Time' ever since."

Helen beamed to hear that.

"I truly envy you, Susan. Both of them were my first love, back when even suggesting that they get together was always met with an 'eww' from both parties. And the night we had when they were here last time was positively magical."

The cigarette had burned out again, so she lit another and leaned in conspiratorially. Moving her lower back to bend didn't hurt as much.

"Before that night," she whispered to Susan, making her think of how she'd acted on the video during the drunk bit. "I hadn't gone down on a guy since..." Helen felt the vibe that it was too early for 'girl talk,' and backed out of the sentence, taking a drag of her cigarette. "Ok, you probably don't want to hear the GOOD parts of my sex life with Vincenzo either."

"You'd be right, there." Susan said with a smirk.

"I'll just leave it at 'he never needed those little blue pills,' then. He was so... different from all the pretty rich boys and girls that Julie and I had fucked and/or extracted money and gifts from all our lives. Troy was back in America in college then. Without him to reign us in, we both basically took whatever we wanted from the mega-rich party crowd. For all their concern about how I take things too far, I know you've seen Julie's jewelry collection. We both kind of felt Troy over our shoulders, though. Even from Seattle. So, for what it's worth, we never took any of them for more than they could afford to lose.

"And then I met him. A man who knew what it was to have anything he wanted except the person he loved. Contessa Sofia died young, you know. He'd been alone for a long time. And I loved him enough to endure the shouts of 'gold-digger' and 'graverobber' whenever we went out in public. Sometimes I'd do The Thing to someone who got in my face with it, but never in front of Vincenzo."

Susan noticed the cigarette trembling a bit between Helen's fingers, and that her eyes were misting over.

"And then he died, Susan. He gave me his love one last time, and then collapsed on top of me. I was pinned under my husband's dead body, and he was still inside me." Tears began to trail from her eyes. "The guards were used to me being loud in the bedroom at that point. By the time they noticed I was screaming for help, I'd just managed to push Vincenzo off of me and get a blanket over him, so at least they didn't find him that way.

"And I was alone again, but now I was expected to rule a country. Maria was sixteen; she was nowhere near ready. And I won't go into just how on fire this country would be if one of those 'Sackville San Finziones' we keep over on the business side ever took the throne, so it had to be me. So I did, in the end, use The Thing to assume control, at the meeting with La Familia's lawyers. But I did it for Vincenzo's sake; to uphold his dream as best as my twisted, criminal mind could interpret the idea. Troy and Julie got the Happily Ever After; I got the crown, the castle and the world coming to me with problems and expecting answers."

Although she hadn't been asked, Jeanne had brought a box of tissues with the tea. Susan took some out and handed them to Helen. She wiped the tears away, but more were coming.

"I was too busy trying to figure out what the hell I was doing here to get away, when Troy called to tell me that Propappou was in his final days. He could barely speak by then. I asked Troy to bring the phone up to his ear so I could tell him I loved him. I couldn't quite make out what he said, but I'm pretty sure there was a 'S'ayapo, Petalouda Emay' in there. That... means..."

Susan filled in the gap while Helen sobbed.

"'I love you, My Butterfly,' yeah. They don't use it around the house often, however, I've picked up that much Greek from them; and Troy and Julie have told me some stories about you and Propappou now. They said that's what he called you."

"They didn't tell him about Vincenzo passing three months before him. He died not knowing he was leaving his little Petalouda alone in the world. I'll owe them forever just for that. And I couldn't let them see me alone again. Is Julie any good at concealing her emotions? No. Troy was losing his great-grandfather, Julie was too, and I was losing my father. I wanted to scream to Troy 'I've slept on the Throne and in different rooms every night for the past month, because I can't go back into the bedroom where my husband died! I'm starting to miss the smell of cocaine; and while I've got you on the line, how the fuck do I balance a National Budget?'"

Helena took another deep breath.

"I know, I could have picked up the phone or logged into Skype at any time, and all the personal shit going on between the three of us would've gone and fucked itself. They'd have been right here; just like you all are now. I couldn't bring myself to go running scared to them the way I had my whole life. That reminds me, I heard about how you kept those two together on the way here; thank you for that too. And no, you don't have to call me Contessa or worry about getting drafted for accepting the offer."

Susan nodded and drank her tea. Helen's tears began to subside as she continued.

"I couldn't face them that way: Sad, scared Helen Parker, in trouble and needing their saving once more. I would have rather they thought of me as an evil, power-hungry bitch; happy to fuck my way to the throne, than look at me like that again. I never expected to be invited to the wedding, and I was still worried that they'd see through the money and the clothes and the power that I'd learned to adjust to by then; so, I laid it on thick. And you paid the price.

"So, that's who I was when we met; when Contessa Helena de San Finzione disregarded you as a person, Susan. And every time I've learned a little more about you, about how much more special you are than you can possibly guess, I've felt the Hammer of Guilt pound down on me with 'You Wronged This Woman!' The only other person who can make me feel that," She felt another tear coming and dabbed it with the tissue. "Calls me 'Great-Grandmama' now. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for what I did to her." She looked Susan in the eye and gave a weak smile. "Fortunately, I've already learned what a mistake it is trying to buy the forgiveness of someone who truly matters to me."

Susan set down her cup.

"Well, let me start by saying that I accept your apology, Helen. I won't make you wait for that part. Living with Troy and Julie, I've seen how much This Thing We Do is a part of them, too. Julie's never gotten a ticket in that Ferrari, and when we get back, I know that all of Troy's professors are going to have no problem letting him make up any tests he's missed. And a few of the lessons they've taught me consisted of 'Here's something Helen did with it. Now, don't do that.'"

Helen lit another cigarette. She'd been taking puffs and drags during the conversation, but had mostly let the last one burn away as well.

"I come from a long line of bad examples." Helen said with a sheepish grin, nodding to the cigarette as if offering it as proof.

"And the first time I saw you..."

Susan seemed to have trouble putting the thought into words. Helen offered to assist.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"I did The Thing and made you into a sleepy kitten, then made you forget all about me. And then I called you a 'wounded bird,' and don't think I'm not aware of the hypocrisy there. So, what reason would you have NOT to think I'm like that every day to everyone?"

"Exactly," Susan replied. "You know, most of the time, when someone interrupts me, it's really annoying, but with you, it honestly seems like you're just helping me complete the thought. Not in the way we can. I recognize the difference."

A warm smile appeared on Helen's face. One that she hoped didn't look too much like a knowing one.

"I think that's one of the things I've enjoyed most about talking to you, Susan. Most people tell La Contessa what they think she wants to hear. Ramirez and a few select others tell me what I need to hear; you're the only one who tells me what I ought to hear."

"Well, thanks. And yes, your actions since HAVE shown that you're really striving for the better, Helen. There isn't a lot we can do about that past." Susan picked up the teapot, felt that it had gone cold, and put it back down. "Unless your Ministry of Science has developed time travel..."

Helen laughed at that.

"If I had a TARDIS, don't you think THAT'S where we'd be having this talk?"

"It would be a huge point in your favor. That makes me think of the wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey nature of things, though. I don't remember our first meeting; so, by forgiving you, that means I'm saying that it never happened. And the woman that I've heard so much about on my way here? The one I've talked to online a few times? She sounds like someone worth getting to know. And I think I'd like to do that."

Susan stood up, walked over to Helen, and extended her hand.

"Hi. My name's Susan Bailey."

Helen took her hand.

"Helen Parker, it's nice to finally meet you, Susan."

* * *

The rest of the week passed quickly. All of them, including La Contessa, came to Stavros' family dinner that evening. They told her she'd always been welcome, and not just because by law, Helen was allowed everywhere in San Finzione. She gave Troy, Julie, and Susan the Royal Tour, when she didn't have to rest; and let all of them take pictures of themselves on the Throne. By their last day in San Finzione, Dr. Tenente Maisson had cleared Helena to stand and walk for a couple of minutes every few hours; however, sexual activity was still too risky for another week, at least. And so, they spent most of their evenings catching Susan up on old stories and showing each other new things they'd been doing with The Thing They Do.

"Two weeks of pent-up Helena, in need of unleashing," Julie said as they stood on the red carpet leading up the stairs to the Air Finzione SST home; giving her first girlfriend a passionate kiss and goodbye hug. Behind them, baggage handlers loaded their luggage and some large crates into the plane. "And now, with the flight time just a bit less than the round trip drive from Anchorage to Fairbanks..." She turned to her husband. "Troy, hon, we got anything happening next weekend?"

Troy's response was to say nothing, but take out his phone and start checking their calendar. The other three laughed at him. Julie made her way up the ramp.

"If it helps, you all DO have free Contessa Class tickets for life on any Air Finzione flight," Helen responded, turning to Susan. "Oh, don't give me that look," she said jokingly. "I'm a Contessa. Grand, magnanimous gestures are part of my job description. My friends get stuff. Not because I want them to like me, but because I like them and I can. You'll adjust."

Susan walked up to Helen and smiled.

"As long as you didn't sneak any sports cars on board..."

"Oh no," Helen replied. "Just Vespas."

Susan raised an eyebrow, Helen grinned at it.

"I've been advised against thinking you're joking about lavish gifts, Helen."

"You call Vespas lavish?" Susan remained silent. "I thought it'd be fun," Helen said, cocking her head with somewhat less pain now and a broad smile. "You guys got to watch me putt around in that thing for the past few days." She gestured to the wheelchair. "I figured next time I see you, we can all putt around together."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Well," Susan said with a sigh. "At least we don't have to expand the garage again." She smiled, shook hands with Helen, they gave each other cheek kisses.

"Don't die." They whispered simultaneously and smiled before Susan boarded the plane.

Troy stood before Helen last.

"Julie's portrait is great." Helen told him. "And I gave my word."

Jeanne approached with a plastic garment bag. Inside was Propappou's smoking jacket, the scent sealed in by the bag. Troy thought for a moment before speaking.

"You know, we probably won't be able to make it back next week. However, we're going to come for our Anniversary, and we'll be back a month after to help with the Festival of Cupid. Maybe you can hold onto it until the anniversary trip, at least. But THEN, I'm gonna want to take it home."

Helen wrapped her good arm around him and met his lips. First like a friend, then like a lover, and then, like a relative; because, even moreso than Julie, Troy was all three to her. She nodded at Jeanne, who spun around and returned the bag to the limousine.

"If there's enough Medina DNA on that thing to clone, I'm putting my science people on it. Fair warning."

"S'ayapo, Petalouda Emay," Troy whispered to her with one more hug before boarding, himself.

Once all three were out of sight, Colleen peeked out from in front of the stair car and looked at Helena. She smiled and nodded, and Colleen got out of the truck, grabbed an overnight bag, and boarded the plane, wearing her old stewardess uniform. She ran up the stairs after them and closed the door.

Helena got back into the chair and wheeled over to the limousine while the engines powered up. Jeanne and Scappa helped her in, then went to load the chair into the vehicle's trunk. When they shut the doors, she looked across the back seat of the limo, to Generalissimo Ramirez.

"And what now, Contessa." He asked, then waited for her response.

Helena watched as their plane made it to the runway, sped up, and lifted off the ground, climbing higher as it sent the people she loved back home. She then lit a cigarette and turned to Ramirez.

"Now," she said. "We get to work on this shit."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

A Little Night Music Ch. 22

"Begone, all you shod and shady senators!
Give out the good, leave out the bad evil cries.
I challenge the mighty titan and his troubadours!
And with a smile...
I'll take you to the Seven Seas of Rhye!"
-Queen, "The Seven Seas of Rhye"




A few days later, Denise Cole had returned home from college, when her parents informed her that Julie Equals had stopped by and left a crate in the garage and a package at her bedroom door for her, with instructions to open the package first. She'd thought he'd just meant 'a second, really big package,' until she looked in the garage and saw a giant wooden crate. Her father had pried the boards loose with a crowbar and taken out the item meant for him and her mother, but per Julie's instructions, wouldn't ruin the surprise. Denise thought it looked big enough to carry one of those old-style giant-screen TVs, from before they knew how to make them thinner.

The box in front of her bedroom door was three-feet square and had her name and which end of the box was "up" written on the top in a handwriting that she didn't recognize. Denise opened the door and slid the package across the carpet and into her room. Her parents were much more respectful of her privacy since their talk with Julie, and didn't go into her room unless she asked or didn't respond for longer than a decent teenage sulk should last.

Once the door was closed behind her, Denise found a pair of scissors and carefully cut open the packing tape. Julie had given her no indication that something like this was coming, and she was worried about opening it too hastily and damaging whatever was inside. The first item, on top of a bed of fabric, was a hard leather cylinder with yellow sticky-note attached, which read "Open scroll case by unscrewing either end. (Go ahead and break the seal and read it. It's for you.)"

Denise had played D&D once in a while; although, when she visited the Equals house, Troy preferred to run "Call of Cthulhu" for her, Susan, occasionally Julie, and a couple of Denise and Susan's friends. She'd heard of scroll cases coming up in games, but this was the first one she'd ever seen. She followed the instructions and pulled from it a parchment scroll, wrapped in ribbon, and sealed with wax. The symbol impressed into the wax was one that she knew well: the crest of La Familia de San Finzione!

Denise practically squealed before approaching the scroll even more surgically with the scissors, seeking to break the wax seal, but preserve the symbol on it. Inside was a hand-calligraphed message:

Ms. Denise Cole Tacoma Washington

Dear Ms. Cole,

Greetings. I am Contessa Helena de San Finzione, Monarch of the Sovereign County and Nation-State of San Finzione. We briefly spoke on the telephone once, and I apologize that my dearly beloved friend's tendency to give out my personal phone number as a joke conflicted with an important Matter of State at that time.

As I write this, I am recovering from a serious injury, during which, the aid and company of my family and friends has been greatly thebangutic. Some very important people in my life, including Our Mutual Friends, came to my side in a time of crisis; putting on hold their own lives for the sake of mine.

Through our conversations, I became aware of yourself, and the deeds that you have performed so that I could be with my true family during my time of need. Although you may have thought them insignificant at the time, your actions have been of great and meritorious service to The People of San Finzione, and to La Contessa directly. Please find an official Royal Commendation, framed and ready for display. As this letter has taken on a more personal tone than intended; you may wish to show that to your friends, rather than this message, if any of them question that you know me or where you got all these things.

As a token of San Finzione's and my own personal gratitude, please accept the gifts enclosed with this scroll and commendation. Packed amongst the various t-shirts, please find Our National Flag, an iPad, several gift cards, some of our native arts and crafts, souvenirs, posters of Castle Finzione and my royal portrait; and the current generations of Xbox, PlayStation, and Wii. Should you need a new TV for them, the Best Buy card should more than cover it.

Also, in the large crate, in addition to the big item, you should find two crates of various wines from the San Finzione Vineyards. There is a regular crate for your parents, and a non-alcoholic crate for you and your friends. I've marked the ones that should be kept chilled with a "C" on the cork, so you can impress them with your knowledge of fine wines. Our Mutual Friend tells me you won't be able to use the biggest item for another year, but while I was getting hers, I thought "Why not?" I hope you like the color. Our Friend said that you're a Purple Girl too, so you should. The royal color of San Finzione is Emerald Green. So, you've probably seen in photos that I wear that color often, but only because I kind of have to. I'm a Purple Girl at heart, myself.

You're welcome to tell others how I heard of you and how you got all these things. However, as you're doubtlessly aware, Our Mutual Friends highly value their privacy, and would want us both to leave their names out of it. Tell people you wrote an essay or won a contest, or something. I'll back you up. We both know the truth, and I thank you again for the vital duties you have unselfishly performed in the service of my grateful nation, and hope that you and your family will visit San Finzione soon, so that I may meet you in person. I've recently re-learned how much better that is than talking online.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Should you choose to do so, free open-ended round-trip Contessa Class tickets on Air Finzione will be available for you, your parents, and a friend at any ticket counter; and I would be honored if you chose to be my guests at the castle for your stay.

With My Eternal Gratitude,

Contessa Helena de San Finzione

Denise grinned as she went through the t-shirts. There was one with a picture of the castle, one of La Familia's crest, one with the patch of La Squadra de Ultimados, and a Crass shirt. The iPad was the big temptation to open first, but there was also the thick envelope of gift cards, and the big crate in the garage. Denise settled on opening the posters first, finding out what the big item was, then coming back for the smaller items. The posters were autographed, and addressed to her, with La Contessa's thanks again.

She decided the poster of her portrait was definitely going over the bed when she ran to the garage and pulled the giant crate open.

A crate of wine marked 'Non-Alcoholic,' and an empty spot where one had been sitting were on either side of a new Vespa scooter, colored metal-flake purple.

Denise's overjoyed mind remembered to text Julie and thank her. She also texted that she'd be happy to take care of things again any time they needed. After she hit send, she thought for a moment about sending another text. The number was still in her phone, and it would only be polite.

She decided that the worst that could happen would be that it came back blocked. She went with a simple "Thank You" and sent it. The phone said that it had been sent. She waited for the message that the text was undelivered to come back, but after several seconds, it didn't.

Denise's first thought had been that after she'd been attacked by the psycho stalker the news said, "was always a quiet man," there might be someone watching her incoming calls and messages, but then she reasoned that it probably just took longer for the block message to get back from Europe, and went back to her bedroom.

While she was plugging in the iPad, she got a text.

"Thank YOU, Denise. I've got a LOT of messages and emails to catch up on right now, and can't promise how good I'll be about replying; however, feel free to message any time. Most of my friends call me Helena. A few still use Helen, and I'm sure they always will, but I prefer Helena."

Denise laid back on her bed, clutched the phone to her chest with both hands, and grinned.

* * *

Contessa Helena de San Finzione read the report from the Ministry of Science as she rode in the back of a limousine, down old Irish coastal roads. Since she had business there, she'd brought Colleen with her to Ireland, and had left her in Tralee to visit her mother. The wide-open farm country left plenty of spots for an ambush or a sniper, which was why two military helicopters were escorting her, and the Finnegan farm was now secretly crawling with Ultimados. Generalissimo Hernando Ramirez sat opposite her and read the pages as she finished with them.

After a week of being examined by the top experts that San Finzione could provide, a general consensus had been reached on the Springheel video. They had already skipped to the conclusion and read their opinion that, although it was an insane idea that would involve serious advances in several fields of physics, it was entirely possible that Springheel could work. Now they were reading the individual scientists' findings for more information.

The driver came to a stop at the farmhouse. Generalissimo Ramirez got out of the limousine first, the sound of chickens filling the air once the door opened. He grabbed La Contessa's wheelchair, and offered to help her into it. She refused his offer and got out of the car herself, wincing as a spike of pain went through her left shoulder. She made a mental note to take a Percocet when they got back into the limo. She then walked a couple of steps to the chair, which Maisson had assured her that she would be done with soon, when her stitches came out.

"We could've gotten one of the Ultimados to push me," Helen told him as she looked around and saw no other people outside. "How many have us surrounded?"

"Twenty, if we count the snipers in the choppers. They are busy, I can do this."

Ramirez began pushing her toward the house, when a woman in her early 50s, dressed in black, came out, shouting for someone in the house to stay inside. A breeze blew off Tralee Bay as Helena waited for her to approach. She stepped forward, stopped a few feet in front of Helena, and said nothing. The look in her eyes was one of someone expecting to be shot at any moment.

"Molly Finnegan?" Helena asked.

"Aye," she replied. "An' I know who you are, o' course, Countess. Whate'er you're going to do to me, please leave the children out of it."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"I just want to talk." Helena gestured to the helicopters patrolling the farm and the land around it. They were far enough away that the sound of the engines didn't impede the conversation. "They're here for everyone's safety. I need to have a word with you about your husband."

Molly gave a fearful sigh; she walked over to an outdoor chair against the corner of the house. Ramirez wheeled Helena closer, surveying their surroundings.

"Before we talk, I need to tell ya," Molly said, looking around. "The man who came ta talk ta Gar... Frank. He told me that if I tell ya anythin' about him, even if ya somehow force me ta tell..." She turned back toward the inside of the house for a moment. "He'd destroy ev'rythin' left that I love." She began sobbing and buried her face in her hands before continuing. "He said he'll let me keep the money." She looked up at Helena with tears streaming down her face. "Tha' I'll need it... ta try an' find... some measure o' happiness in the world... when he's done..."

Helena nodded her understanding and spoke in Gaeilge.

"I won't ask about him, then. But, you know who your husband was before? You knew him when he was Frank Morgan?" She motioned for Ramirez to push her closer and reached out to pat her on the shoulder. Molly recoiled from her touch.

"Yes, I did," she responded in Gaeilge as well. "I'm sorry, Countess, I know you mean well, coming out here and talking like this; and I've no earthly reason to be angry with yourself, and every reason to be angry with him, but..."

"I lost my husband, too," Helen said, sympathetically, while withdrawing her hand. "I'd have given anything for there to be someone I could hold responsible. Someone to blame, other than myself." She offered the woman a cigarette, and she took it. With the breeze blowing, they were hard to light, until Ramirez produced a Zippo lighter and lit both of them. Helen offered him one as well, but he refused. She turned back to Molly. "Hate me all you want. I'm used to it."

"I don't blame you, of course, Countess. Not rationally, anyway. Rationally, I blame him; the man I can't talk about."

"Everything I know about him tells me that he's somehow watching, and probably listening, isn't he?" Molly nodded. "And I'm certain that if he doesn't know what we're saying, he's got translators who will tell him every word, so I won't ask you anything that will put your children in danger."

Molly's tears subsided, and she nodded to Helena to continue.

"How long ago did your husband get sick?"

"Six years. His hearing started going, and he'd always had headaches, but he figured it was just signs of getting old. He avoided doctors, was worried that if he was put in some computer system, someone might connect him to the bad old days. When the trembling in his hand and leg started, he tried all kinds of crazy herbs and oils and things; spent most of the savings left from those days before risking it. They told him it was too late by then."

"And then the man we can't talk about came into the picture, I'm guessing. Don't answer that. I wasn't asking. This question is about Frank, not him: Do you know how much my life was worth?"

"Frank said we'd get five million if he succeeded, one million if he failed. I still begged him not to go! But The Man made good on it, I was contacted with the account information the next day, and the money was there. But I'd give it all back if Gar..." She started crying again.

"I understand that part, too," Helen replied, thinking that he wouldn't have gone through with the money transfer if he'd been planning to harm the Finnegan family. Though Helena suspected that a million Euros was as much a drop in the bucket to this man as it was to her. He was insane, but she wasn't sure to what level, and there was no guarantee that he wouldn't kill them afterwards, simply for a laugh. "So, he's watching us; or listening to us, or both. He knew I'd come to you eventually. Did he leave a message?"

"Aye," Molly said, switching back to English, and producing an older-looking flip-phone burner, much like the one Helen had left in the box for the Equals and Susan. "I'm supposed to give ya this, an' call him when ya leave. He said to have yer people check it over, but it'll ring the next night, at exactly 11:57 PM San Finzione Time, for exactly ten seconds. An' if anyone but Contessa Helena de San Finzione answers, he'll hang up, an' it'll never ring again."

Helen took the phone and signaled her thanks.

"You're supposed to call after I leave," Helena asked. "He knew I would come to you, but he couldn't have known when. So, I'm guessing that the recording equipment has been in place for a while." Molly nodded. "He'll be able to hear and see me now?" She nodded again. "Good. That means I get to give him MY message before he gives me HIS."

Helena cleared her throat and spoke with a raised voice.

"Hi, there. It's me. Thanks for the Jimenez thing, we went with it. I'm looking forward to your call, but I expect you plan to do most of the talking there, so let me get this out now: You're done with these people. And any other innocents you're thinking it might be fun to bring into this. If you want to do the cat and mouse game with me, I'll play. And I'll win. And I won't be dragging you to Arkham Asylum so you can break out and we can do it all again next week. Men have thought that their power and status protected them from me in the past. They don't think anything, anymore. If they could, they'd tell you what a mistake it is to come at me through others.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Right now, I'm just annoyed at you. If you put any more innocents in the crossfire, I'll upgrade that to Upset. There are a couple of levels after Upset, but that's the point at which our 'How Fucked Are You' packages begin. Talk to ya soon. To reiterate, leave these people alone or I'll make your head my new ashtray! Ciao!"

She waved to the air and signaled Ramirez that she was ready to go back to the car.

"You have my condolences, Mrs. Finnegan." Helen said as Ramirez started to turn her chair around.

"Wait," Mrs. Finnegan said. "My husband's... body. When'll it be returned, so we can..." She began choking on the words. Helen signaled Ramirez to stop and turn her back around.

"Mrs. Finnegan, I was attacked by an obsessed stalker and anti-science nut named Carlos Jimenez. That man's body is evidence in the investigation of the attempt on my life. When La Policia are done with him, I'll make sure he comes back to you, but I can't promise when that will be."

The older widow nodded her gratitude to the younger, and Helen and Ramirez departed.

* * *

The next night, Contessa Helena de San Finzione was practicing walking unaided from her bed to the balcony railing and back, working on keeping her leg strength after two weeks of being mostly idle in the wheelchair.

Running had been the first survival skill that Helen had learned, and thanks to her childhood, she was exceptionally good at it. It was what she would have done if she'd had another half-second to think before Morgan had been upon her. In high college, two things kept her from going out for the girls' track team: Wade not allowing extra-curricular activities, and the way the coach looked at her.

Once Wade was gone, she'd found the college language clubs, and threw herself into them instead; but by then, she was able to do The Thing and had experienced enough "special sleepovers" with Julie to understand why the coach looked at her that way. Helen had decided she wasn't so creepy after all; kind of hot, really. And so, shortly before graduation, although the coach never had Helen on her team in the field, Helen certainly had the coach on her team in the girls' showers.

She looked at the clock on the burner phone that she was holding. It was 11:28. She'd had her people go over the phone. It was a perfectly ordinary disposable phone, with no fingerprints but her own and Mrs. Finnegan's. It had been purchased with cash a month before, at a convenience store in Tralee that recycled their surveillance videos every two weeks. The clerk working that day had been let go shortly after.

"Track the clerk down," Helena had told her people. "Make sure she's ok. She probably won't remember him, but it's worth asking; and this guy's enough of a dick to have her killed just for seeing his face."

The clerk was unharmed, but didn't recall the customer from a job she'd quit a month ago. Helen made a mental note to let Susan know about it when they talked next; that not everything worked like Law & Order, where all the waitresses in busy New York diners have vivid, instant recall of "that guy in the red jacket who was in here about two weeks ago."

Her bedroom door opened, and Contessa-In-Reggenza Maria de San Finzione entered.

"Good evening, Great-Grandmama," Maria said as she entered the room, noting the little blue envelope on her nightstand that had been opened and was now propped up with the flap into a tent shape. She looked at Helena entering via the balcony doors; happy to see her on her feet again, even with wobbly steps. "How are you tonight?"

"Better, Dearest One," Helena responded with a warm smile as she made the last few steps to sit on the bed. Maria sat next to her. "How has your day been?"

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Maria searched for a word before answering.

"Manageable," she said at last. "Your advice has worked out very well. 'Once they understand who's in charge, your advisers will do most of the work for you. Keep an eye on them, and you can concern yourself with more important matters. After that, the job's largely about looking beautiful for photo ops, and you're already covered there, young lady.'"

Maria's smile broadened. So did Helena's.

"I always knew you could do it, Maria. You come from the blood of our greatest ruler."

"You've been thinking a lot about him lately," Maria said, putting her hand on Helena's shoulder. "I've seen you having your alone time with the paintings. I miss him too."

"I may be there more often, now that the collection is complete, but yes; I've been missing him a lot since..." Helen tried to search for a better phrase than 'the day I got stabbed.' It ended up coming out as "... the day I almost went to be with him."

Helen saw Maria's eyes begin to water and wrapped her arms around her great-granddaughter.

"I wouldn't have left you alone, Dearest One. I didn't see the bright light and hear him and Propappou calling like I expected. Like everyone says. I saw... something else."

"I would have been sad," Maria said, half muffled by her face being buried in Helena's good shoulder. "But I would not have been alone. I would still have Stavro. And the rest of La Familia."

Helen let out a small laugh at that.

"The 'Sackville San Finziones,' who were probably praying for my death that day? Vincenzo was right about them. 'Put them over on the corporate side, where we can at least TRY to harness their greed and power lust for the benefit of The People.' They would have been back here in seconds, pocketing the silverware and anything shiny, like they did with him."

Maria looked up with love and a touch of anger on her face. She knew that everything that Helena was saying was true, but still didn't like hearing ill of La Familia de San Finzione. Helena gave her a little smile and changed the subject.

"Maria, do you know what your Great-Grandpapa used to say about you? He called you 'the last little piece of me that will remain in this world after I am gone.' And that thought has been on my mind; that you really are the last of his line. He and I would have been happy to give you a grandfather or grandmother." Her smile started to fade. "We never thought to have him 'frozen.' We knew we didn't have forever, but we..." Tears began to trail from her eyes. "Always HOPED we'd have more time..."

It was Maria's turn to hug Helen.

"That is not true, Great-Grandmama. I am not the last piece of him. I see the piece left in your heart."

"Forever does he reign in our hearts." Helen whispered through her tears.

Maria kissed her on the cheek and held her closer.

"Just as you will forever reign in mine." Maria sighed. "But I understand the thing that you are trying hard not to say. Without another heir, La Familia is finished." She looked at Helena with a determined gaze. "I am the last of the bloodline. He will not appreciate the break in tradition, but he will adjust. In the morning, I shall propose marriage to Stavro."

Helen broke the hug and rose to her feet. The pain of her wounds reminded her that it was too soon for a sudden movement like that, but she carried on.

"No, Maria! Not like that. One day, if you and Stavro wish to marry, you shall have a royal wedding so grand as to surpass my own. The past few weeks aside, you've seen what's ahead of you. I want you to have a life before it becomes all about duty. Before you have to spend all of your time weighing decisions that affect the lives of the entire nation. I cannot and will not ask that of you!

"A child of my own would not be of the bloodline, but he or she would still be an heir of Vincenzo's; and would not replace you in the line of succession. I talked to Maisson earlier. He says there was no damage to my reproductive system; and that once the stitches and the pain are gone, it would be safe for me to conceive. I'm not going to get right on it..." She thought a second. "I mean, Yeah, after two weeks, I'm gonna get right at it, what I mean is that this is too important to do on a whim; it requires a great deal more thought than just this discussion, but it's on my list of priorities now." She looked at Maria, still on the bed. "So, don't even think about putting it on yours, yet. We can preserve the bloodline later. Let's take care of Great-Grandpapa's legacy first."

"Ok," Maria said, smiling and standing up. "If that is what Great-Grandmama wishes, then that is what shall be. But who shall be the father?"

Helena responded with a smirk.

"Therein lies the problem," Helena said, lighting a cigarette, and checking the time. There were still a few minutes before the call. "And I suppose these'll have to go if it happens. I could tell the media, and have a line of men stretching from the bedroom door, through the castle, and all the way back to the airport. Or I could tour the globe, dating other world leaders, scientists, athletes, movie stars, etc.; until I found someone suitable. Or I could try simply NOT turning my life into some 'baby crazy' wacky comedy and accepting the obvious conclusion that I came to hours ago."

Helena walked over to the other side of the bed for her ash tray and looked Maria in the eye.

"That realistically, with him gone, there's only one man with whom I could produce an heir worthy of Vincenzo Ramon de San Finzione." She took a long drag of her cigarette. "And I suspect it's going to be much harder to get a baby out of Troy Equals than a painting."

* * *

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Maria had left before the phone rang at precisely 11:57 PM. The number came up Unavailable. Contessa Helena de San Finzione flipped it open and answered.

"Million bucks says you're using a voice scrambler."

"You win, Miss Parker," came the scrambled voice on the other end of the line. "How would you like that million?"

"I was thinking 'Gimme your address, and I'll exploit a dying man into making a suicide attack on you.' Seems only fair."

The voice on the other end made a mechanical-sounding chuckle.

"I presume your tech people are tracing this call. If my tech people are doing their job, they should track it to the Mars Rover. I also presume that you've not yet figured out who I am, Helen."

"Well, you fancy yourself clever. You think addressing me by my maiden name will somehow rattle me; and on that note, despite the scrambler and all the money and collegeing, a man can never scrub all the Yorkshire out of his accent. So, my money's on 'Rich Asshole Who Thinks He Can Blofeld His Way Into My Pants.' Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me there's some Shadow Chamber or Sinister Cabal behind all this, and it's not just your candy ass. Fair warning: If the answer is some fucking 'only one who might appreciate my genius' horseshit, you automatically forfeit any chance you MIGHT presently have of getting into them."

"Afraid not," he replied. "Just me. And whereas I'm sure fucking you would be the experience of a lifetime, I must be honest; a decent portion of my plan DID involve that killing you."

"Yeah, I got told I was a disappointment a lot as a kid. So, you really think Springheel is worth going to all this?"

There was a pause on the other end.

"It would appear that I am not the only one who fancies themselves clever. But yes, originally, my intention was to keep you from finding out that Springheel works, just like they promise in the video."

"Well, you fucked that one up, Yorkshire," she said, taking a long drag. "I mean, I get that's why you did it, but why go to all the trouble of dragging the Triads into it, tracking down a deaf man to kill me, blowing up the Ministry? 'Why me, in particular' I guess, would be my question."

"The first was to see if the legends about Contessa Helena de San Finzione were true. That she has a way of wrangling the wills of men. Beyond how all women are able to do so, that is. That no man or woman can resist her charms; that she strides up to every negotiation table knowing what she wants, and strides away with all of it. If that's who she is, why hasn't she simply stridden onto television and conquered the world by now? Given your troubled past, I thought 'Sex Trade: That's how to get her attention!' You've probably realized by now that this isn't Raymond Chen."

"Heh," Helena replied. "Figured that one out in my sleep. No, really, I'm not bragging. That is exactly what I did."

"I had Morgan ready to go in case I was correct that it's in how one hears your command, so being unable to hear it at all would protect someone from your little talent. I might have sent him anyway, though. The attempt still would have caused you to cancel that meeting, and it would have been a shame to waste a man so willing to throw his life away for money."

"I'd already concluded most of that. You filled in a gap or two. Ya know, you helped. Oh yeah! While I've got you on the line: The little glass vial; we never did find out what was in that. What was it?"

"San Finzione White Zinfandel," he answered. "I told him it was a fast-acting poison. He told me why poison on a knife is practically worthless and that it smelled like wine; I told him that there had been some advancements made in poisons since he got out of the game." Helena practically heard him shrug on the other end. "It made him feel better about the task ahead of him. The final part of the answer to your 'why you' question, Miss Parker, is because I wanted Springheel for myself, because only a handful of people stood a chance of getting it out from under me, and because I knew you would be the most formidable competition."

"And you would've gotten away with it too, if it hadn't been for those meddling Ultimados. Now, I'm still alive, I want it more, and you know I'll get it." She thought a moment. "Wanted. Past tense. So, you don't want it anymore?"

"No, Miss Parker. I wanted it because I'm someone who likes the world just the way it is. I profit immensely from the Status Quo. A war here, a famine there, a pestilence somewhere else, it doesn't just put food on my table, it puts coke on the tits of my ten-thousand dollar whores. Heh, I'd send Christmas cards to the Four Horsemen if I could. Whoever loses, I always win.

"And I like that arrangement, Miss Parker. This Planet of the Assholes, this runaway ship, burning and sinking simultaneously, with the Three Stooges at the helm; this never-ending political/religious dick-measuring contest; I love it, and I want to keep the party going. Human nature does most of my work for me, but a balance that delicate requires protection. Springheel can upset it, or keep it just where it is. I like the second idea more, and that was why I wanted it. But now? Now I NEED it. To protect myself from you."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"I'm SO glad you already understand that! Saves me some time. Before, I thought you were going to turn out to be some evil version of me," Helen said, then thought for a puff. "Well, MORE evil, let's say. Now, I think you're the evil version of someone else I know. But please, go on."

"Would that be Troilus Equals?" The voice paused to let that sink in, then continued before she could respond. "Don't you wish real life had dramatic chords? That dun-dun- DAAAH! Just once? Now, that was an unexpected bonus: Finding out who comes running to Helen Parker's side in her darkest hour. You can skip the 'If you harm one hair' speech, I got your message in Ireland. The two of them are safe from me. That said, one of the other things whispered of her, is that Contessa Helena de San Finzione always cheats. So, I'll play nice, until you force me to do otherwise."

Helen's cigarette had gone out. She lit another to stall a second or two, to take control of herself. To come up with a response other than screaming into the phone just how very fucking dead the man on the other end was. He'd said Troy's name and "the two of them." Did he not know Susan too? How do you know Troy and Julie Equals and not know Susan Bailey? He spoke while she was thinking.

"Have I finally 'rattled' you, Helen Parker?"

"No," Helena replied calmly. "I was just waiting to see if that was the 'Big Threat' that this call was about, or if there's another one coming?"

"No. I'm thinking 'That one was pretty good. Don't ruin it by trying to top it.' Keep the phone, Miss Parker. I'm certain we'll talk again before it's time to meet. I'd hoped this would be the night we first did, though. You should check your email. They've just told us where to go if you want Springheel. See you there, Miss Parker. Ta-Ta."

Helena closed the phone. She set the burner on the nightstand and picked up her own phone. She took the rest of her cigarette out onto the balcony with her as she opened her email.

There was another email from another disposable email provider. Normally, they wouldn't have gotten past her spam filter, however, the title contained a word that any emails about should be forwarded to her. It was a question. "Springheel: Interested?" The message was blank.

She replied with a "Yes," and sent it back. Helena checked the clock: 12:08. She'd hoped Yorkshire's backup plan hadn't been to keep her on the phone for an hour so she wouldn't be able to reply in time. It would have been petty and pointless, since she had other ways to get the information if needed. She'd been considering that yes, he just MIGHT have been thinking it, and gave a little laugh when the reply came. It was entitled "Springheel: Where."

Helena opened the message. She read the single word on the screen and began to laugh. The cigarette dropped out of her mouth and rolled off the balcony as she kept laughing. Her phone dropped out of her hand as she dropped to her knees, starting to hold her side and legitimately worrying about popping a stitch as the phone landed on the balcony face up, it's screen glowing upward, toward the night sky and warm breezes of San Finzione, displaying that single word.

"Seattle"

THE END

BUT...

CONTESSA HELENA DE SAN FINZIONE

WILL RETURN

IN...

SO NIGHT FOLLOWS DAY