Fantasy So Night Follows Day by TMaskedWriter

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Her heart's going to explode." Susan told Julie while Troy dealt out the money and tokens and explained them to Mander. "You're going to have to explain to the Coles why you're bringing home their daughter's body looking like a xenomorph hatched out of her chest."

Julie looked through the glass door, watching as Denise excitedly talked about something and Helen sat a safe distance downwind from her and listened just as excitedly.

"They're both making a new friend." Julie replied. "I know Denise has been feeling better about herself and making some friends lately." She turned to Susan and took hold of her hand. "And the last friend Helen made has worked out pretty well."

Troy and Julie both looked out the patio door at Helen, animatedly asking questions back about whatever Denise was saying. This wasn't the woman who tried to fake her enthusiasm through daytime talk show interviews. This was the girl they'd both stayed up all night talking with about anything and everything, continuing well past the time those daytime talk shows were ending. Troy had to forcibly remind himself that they had somewhere important to go later that evening, because he would have loved to skip the auction and see if Denise's parents would be ok with them putting her up in one of the guest rooms; bringing her home or taking her to college in the morning, so that she and Helen could just continue talking and smiling like they were. The Coles had been over for dinner a couple of times, and so had they. They were clients of Troy's now.

Denise's visit had lasted most of the afternoon and into the early evening, until Julie offered to take her and her bike home in the minivan. Susan went along as well, since Denise lived in Tacoma, and Susan's car was still parked in front of Inner Claire-ity this whole time. Troy and Helen stood on the front porch and waved goodbye to them as Mander went across the street to get his tuxedo.

"She really doesn't know about the Thing?" Helen asked Troy as they waved.

"Oh, Denise has 'discovered our secret' four times now. The next time, we've decided to just let her remember but not to reveal it. She's helped me plug a couple of security holes that I missed, to be honest. I've got some savings bonds set aside for her later on to say sorry and thanks."

Helen bent his head forward for a kiss.

"That's my boy." She said to him in Greek. "Now come on, let's go make you pretty."

* * *

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Late that evening, Contessa Helena de San Finzione, Troy Equals, and Mander sat in the back of her limousine, watching the news as Scappa departed the hotel for the Auction site.

"They're still calling me 'Con-Hel.'" Helen groaned. "I guess I asked for it. I sound like I come from the side of Superman's family that the Els don't like to talk about. Jor-El thought 'Should I warn the Hels, clear on the other side of Krypton; that the planet's gonna explode? Nah, fuck those guys.'"

She looked over at Troy, wearing the same tuxedo with white jacket that he'd worn to the ball she'd thrown for them almost a year ago.

"You didn't pack the Walther, did you?" She asked, after looking him over for several seconds.

"Standing close to you with guns is something you pay men for, Helen. I'll always do it for free, no gun required."

"Besides," Helen offered. "You found out that the real Berns-Martin Triple-Draw Holster was only designed for revolvers, didn't you? I tried to protect you from that one."

"Q could've whipped something up; modified one for the Walther." Troy replied. "And given time, the right tools, and a couple samples to work with..." Troy thought a moment. "You're trying to distract me, Helen. To keep me from being nervous, is my guess." Troy patted her hand. "I do my best to never be nervous around you, Helen."

"Because you know that, like with Julie, nothing bad can ever happen to us as long as we're together?"

Troy patted her hand again.

"I do my best to never be nervous around you, Helen."

"For the record, that's two questions that you haven't really answered since this conversation started."

"As long as we're keeping track," Troy responded. "That's all that matters."

"He ain't packin', Your Countessness." Mander spoke up, adjusting his cuffs, so that his Rolex could be seen, but not so far up that it'd be obvious he was showing it off. They'd found a Big & Tall store at the mall that had a tuxedo in his size. "I'd know."

"I could be making you ignore it." Troy offered.

"Nah, first off, you ain't a wanker like that. Second, a man carries himself different when he's brought Death with 'im. He thinks he don't, but he does. You wouldn't've thought to make me ignore that."

"I get why Helen likes you now, Mander." Was Troy's response.

"I'm a likable guy." Was Mander's response.

The limo turned off of I-5 at the Southcenter exit, then took 405 down through Renton and Kent, until it reached the farm country, and smells thereof, of Auburn. As they got closer to Auburn, Troy became aware of other limos and expensive cars on the road, also appearing to make their way to the same destination.

"Getting a little unsubtle." He commented as a Rolls-Royce passed them by.

"Bunch of limos and fancy cars clogging the roads of some Hicksville town for a night?" Helen asked. "People in fancy suits and dresses stopping by the all-night diner for directions or food? By the time someone realizes it's not the local high college's Prom Night; and the older people in the fancy clothes, driving the SUVs and Porsches aren't poor parents who've been roped into getting dressed up and chauffeuring for their kids' big night, or that they don't see any kids, we'll be long gone."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"One I went to were in Africa." Mander added. "More obvious guns, of course; but there, who cares about some rich foreigners who ain't really even stoppin' and spendin' money on their way to their Rich Foreigner Whatever?"

"Speaking of which." Troy asked him. "How did you get that Desert Eagle under your jacket so well?"

"Ya get a jacket that's a couple sizes too big, then ya fuckin' learn how ta sew."

Helena's dress had no room for such concealment. She wore an off-the-shoulder velvet gown with a long slit up her right leg. She would have gone with one slit up the left, but after the punishment it had taken the past few days, the bruise on that thigh was enormous, and there'd be no way to conceal it. Her pistol was in her black bag, where it was usually kept. She didn't worry about being searched or having it taken, since she could always tell security to ignore it and any detectors it set off.

The cars headed out of town, toward an old country road. Instructions had said to give the car in front of you a few minutes before heading down the road, to prevent traffic jams. Like most such advice, it had been largely ignored, and now it had become an obvious line of slow-moving fancy vehicles winding its way down a deserted road, toward a single destination; an old farmhouse, next to a large barn that looked like it predated the railroads. Behind the barn were parked three black semis with black cargo trailers hitched to them. A fourth truck, hauling a generator, was parked alongside the barn, cables leading into it.

"This was the OTHER reason I didn't want to have STRANGERS here." Helen told Troy. "Seattle people PRIDE themselves on this shit! I mean, in Anchorage, or San Finzione; yeah traffic can suck sometimes. Ok, except for if you're me in San Finzione, but still, you know you're going to get to your destination EVENTUALLY! 'I can't make it, because nobody's cars are allowed to move' is a legitimate fucking excuse to cancel plans here!"

"I have no defense for that." Troy replied.

The line of cars eventually moved until it was time for them to emerge from the limo. Mander got out first, followed by Helen, then Troy. They stepped out onto a red carpet leading to the barn. Troy thought the scene was missing spotlights and photographers, but then supposed that wasn't the kind of thing the Auctioneers went in for. Helen stepped up to a man with a clipboard by the open barn door. Troy thought he could hear music coming from inside.

"Contessa Helena de San Finzione." Helena said. The man looked at the list, then up at Mander. "He's my Plus One." She commented.

The man with the clipboard looked at Troy.

"And who is he?" He asked.

"He's my Plus One More Because I'm La Fucking Contessa, that's who he is. Others are being aided or represented by attorneys, consiglieri, advisors; he is my financial advisor."

The man remained unfazed and ticked the list.

"Welcome, Contessa. Right inside."

He gestured to the open barn door. Helena made a nod at Mander, who stepped up to the man and shook his hand, slipping him a hundred-dollar bill in the process. Mander then held the already-open door open for her and Troy before following them inside.

"Pretty rude to someone whose invite list you want to stay on. Mander doesn't go in first?" Troy whispered to Helen as she took his arm.

"La Contessa makes the entrances, Troilus." She whispered back. "The bodyguard does not. And arrogance is to be expected from the sort of people we're about to join. Followed by a hundred-dollar tip, once they've seen reason."

"That explains trusting Mander with a stack of hundreds. So, what does the financial advisor do?"

"Arm candy." Helen replied. "Until it's time for the other thing."

Troy looked around the barn. He'd been to a couple of farms on field trips in Alaska and knew some people up in the Valley who'd bought farmland, and he'd been to state fairs, but didn't recall seeing a string quartet and cocktail bar set up in the other barns he'd had call to go inside in his life.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

The dirt or concrete floor that Troy would have expected was, instead carpeted. Or rather, rolls of something that had a black grippy surface on the bottom side and blue carpeting on the top had been deployed across the floors of the barn, so there was no hay or sign of animals on the ground. The walls of the barn had been covered with tapestries to hide whatever farming equipment was hanging behind them. Men in expensive suits mingled with women in expensive dresses as Troy took it all in. It felt very quickly put together, as tastefully as possible, and still very easy to take down and be gone with in five minutes.

Heads turned as La Contessa and her escort entered. Troy stayed as cool as he could with all the attention on him, then relaxed when he realized that it wouldn't be him that they were all staring at, anyway, but Helen. He'd been surprised at how many of his fears had turned out to be groundless recently; however, he'd remembered that the fear of his first girlfriend was not only a perfectly healthy one, but likely her country's primary export.

Helen released Troy's arm and grabbed a pair of champagne glasses from a passing waiter, giving one to Troy. Helena clinked glasses with him and drank. Troy followed her example, then waited for his next cue and leaned over to whisper to her again.

"So, what next?" He asked her.

"Next, we make you interesting enough to be approached, but not so interesting as to outshine me." Helen finished her glass, grabbed Troy's, finished his drink, too. She kissed him on the tip of the nose, then stuck her tongue out a little and licked him before giving the glasses to another passing waiter.

"That ought to do it." Helena said with a smile. "Mingle." She turned and waked away. Mander followed her.

Troy looked around the room, at the gathering of the rich and powerful who'd been on the guest list. He knew a lot of them from the news, almost none in a good context, and many of their opinions of his date were matters of public record. Some of them had large, public bounties on their heads that he was aware of, even though Troy didn't usually follow such things. One phone call to the FBI right now would probably mean he, Julie, Susan, and all his clients could retire tomorrow, if he thought he'd live long enough for anyone to answer if he tried. He remembered the words Helen had told him at another fancy party that she'd thrown. "You're a good person, Troy, and these people are sharks."

He touched his ring and walked into them.

* * *

An hour later, a bell sounded. An area of the barn that had been shrouded in darkness lit up, revealing rows of chairs, most with a name card and a numbered sign atop them. La Contessa's spot was, of course, in the front row, as was the seat for her Plus One More. Mander stood with the other bodyguards off to the side, watching the room and each other.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

The chairs faced a podium. Standing at it was a man in a tailored Saville Row tuxedo, wearing a black hood over his head. He spoke in tones that told Helen he'd been Sotheby's trained.

"Ladies and gentlemen. It is now time for the Auction to begin. If everyone will be seated, all of you should already be familiar with our procedures."

The first lot was wheeled up to the podium for presentation.

"Lot one: A shipment of assorted assault rifles in excellent condition, two hundred in total. A sampling of which, we present for inspection. Primarily Warsaw Pact weapons, taken from a terrorist training camp shortly before it was wiped out from the air, reported as having been destroyed. All display samples have had the firing pins removed; the final product that the winning bidder transports away comes with our standard guarantee, and all understood denials. We shall allow two minutes if anyone cares to inspect the samples. I think you'll find our lack of reputation speaks for itself."

There was an appreciative murmur at the Auctioneer's little joke.

"It was funnier when Mander said it." Troy whispered to Helen as some of the prospective buyers signaled to have the weapons brought to them. Pages, also wearing black hoods, brought the weapons to them. Looking around, Troy noticed that the waiters, bar, and quartet were all gone.

"Nobody was wearing hoods before." He murmured to Helen.

"Locals hired for the night." She murmured back. "All they know is some nutty rich people decided to have a fancy cocktail party in a barn in the middle of nowhere. They'll go back home and tell their friends, but the only thing that'll come of it is that in a few months, 'Barn Soirees' might become a thing for a little while in Seattle."

The samples were returned, and bidding began. Troy watched as Helen did nothing while the guns went to someone whom Troy didn't recognize but was certain had nothing good planned with them.

"You're going to let them go?" He murmured to her.

"Troilus, if one of Whyte's drones hit this barn right now? All the evil and suffering in the world? It'd be confused for about two weeks, then it'd pick right back up again. With a new set of assholes in charge, now looking to prove themselves and working to make up for the lost time. I saw who got them, I'll pass it along to the Ministry of Intelligence, but that's all I can do right here. We have an objective. We can't stop all the evil in the world tonight, even though I know it looks like most of it is right here in the room with us."

"Ok, ok." He whispered back. They turned their attention back to the podium and another item was brought out. This one was behind thick, bulletproof plastic. An odd device with some strange canisters hooked up to it.

"Lot two." The Auctioneer continued. "Weaponized Anthrax with aerosol delivery system. Can be triggered in a populated area or, for maximum effect, dropped from the air, into a convenient wind stream. Bidding to open at ten million dollars."

"You're getting that, right?" Troy asked Helen under his breath.

"What?" Helen almost blurted out but managed to keep under her own breath. "Troy, you WANT me to bid on that?"

"It's a GERM BOMB, Helen." Troy muttered back to her. "Your Ministry of Science has the facilities to safely destroy it. I can afford it, especially after yesterday. I will buy it if you don't. Stuff like this is what that Kiburi guy you mentioned was after! We cannot allow one of these fuckers to walk out of here with this thing!"

Troy took hold of Helen's arm that was holding the sign and lifted it.

"Ten million is bid." The Auctioneer announced. "I'm seeing twenty."

Helen turned to smack Troy with the sign before realizing that by lifting it again, she'd just bid thirty million for it now. Someone else bid forty million.

She looked into Troy's eyes. Saw how serious he was about this. Thought of just how few times she'd heard him use the word "fucker," even to describe Wade. Helen nodded.

"Fifty million!" She called out. There were no further bids. The germ bomb was hers.

"Thank you for that, Helen." Troy murmured.

"Just don't keep expecting it." Helen replied, taking hold of his hand for a moment. The bomb was wheeled away to an area where Helen would complete the transaction and take possession or arrange delivery of her purchases.

"Lot three." The Auctioneer continued, as a metal briefcase was wheeled out. "Briefcase-Contained Thermonuclear Device, 20-megaton yield. Can be triggered remotely or via timer. Completely undetectable by all modern scanning measures until everything is over. Shall we begin at fifty million?"

"Helen." Troy murmured.

"Troilus." Helen murmured back.

"I will bankrupt myself to keep that out of the hands of anyone here. Julie and I will live on the streets, unless Susan wants to take care of us, with nothing but our love and our briefcase nuke to keep us warm."

Helen sighed and raised her sign.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

So Night Follows Day Pt. 29

"Then on to Monte Carlo, to play chemin de fer.
I threw away the fortune I made transplanting hair.
I put my last few francs down on a prostitute,
who took me up to her room to perform the flag salute.
Whereupon, I stole her passport and her wig.
And headed for the airport, and the midnight flight, ya dig?
And fourteen hours later, I was down in Adelaide,
looking through the want ads, sipping Foster's in the shade."
-Warren Zevon, "Mr. Bad Example"

"Troilus," Contessa Helena de San Finzione grumbled to Troy Equals over the earpiece comms they were both wearing. "All those times I said, 'anything you want, my love; all that I have is yours?' Most of those were about sex, and I was NOT expecting you to cash them ALL in on a single night!"

"We're still using Whyte's money." Troy mumbled back to her. "I sort of promised him it'd all go to good causes."

Troy had convinced Helen to buy most of the items that had been up for bid as the Auction had gone on. A side area held the items that had already been sold, and a pile of terror weapons had been gathered in the area roped off for Helen's purchases. Troy's reasoning had been that San Finzione's Ministry of Science had the means to safely dispose of them, and that was far preferable to allowing any of the other world, criminal, business, and terrorist leaders present to walk out with them. He had been making mental note of who won the items that he couldn't get Helen to bid on so that he could pass the information along to her Ministry of Intelligence later. He could let them inform the CIA, and they'd keep his family's names out of it; now that he was a paid consultant for them.

"The next time I take you along to play Spy, Troy, we're going to a casino. Preferably one I already own. Even if not, buying the joint will be easier than this."

"There's no sport. I always win at your casinos, Helen." Troy replied. "Every time, in fact. Even if you're not with me."

"Yeah, weird, that." Helen answered. She looked over at the stockpile of death that she'd bought. "We'd need a space program to use half this shit."

"Mind ya," the voice of Mander came over their comms as he stood in an area with the other bodyguards off to the side. "I wouldn't mind having that laser cannon thing for the island, if you don't have other plans for it, Your Countessness. Self-defense and all."

Helen turned to Troy, a mock pleading look on her face.

"He'll only use it on people who deserve it."

"We can discuss it after." Troy replied. "That one WAS pretty Man with the Golden Gun, all right."

Mander and Helen both smiled when Troy wasn't looking. Mander had only known Troy a few days, but he knew as well as Helen that James Bond was how one appealed to Troy Equals.

"And now," the Auctioneer announced. "Our final item of the evening. The one you've all been waiting for. Our featured item. Lot fifteen: Springheel."

It was wheeled out on a cart like the other items, the suit on what Helen hoped was a dummy, standing in a revolving display case. A manual bearing the stylized Springheel "S" was on the cart in front of it. Only Troy noticed the tiny start Helen made when the cart wheeled over the space between one of the carpets they'd laid down like tarps inside the barn, and the suit seemed to move slightly.

"You have all seen the video." The Auctioneer continued, peeking out from behind the holes in his black hood. "You know what it can do, what it has done already, and you have imagined what you might do with it. What enemy's secrets you might plumb. What enemy might suddenly cease to exist."

Helen felt most of the eyes of the room fall upon her. Troy continued looking ahead, but took hold of her hand, realizing that she'd been right; most of them had Contessa Helena de San Finzione at or near the top of their Springheel To-Do list.

"If I may be so bold," the Announcer concluded. "Whoever walks out of here with it tonight, will certainly have fewer problems tomorrow. Bidding to begin at one-hundred million dollars."

Helen's hand, the one holding the sign, shot upwards.

* * *

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Troy Equals remembered a couple of hours ago, when Contessa Helena de San Finzione had kissed, then licked the tip of his nose. She brought the hand she'd raised to tilt his head down, so she could touch his ear, activating the earbud that Troy was wearing.

"That ought to do it." Helen said with a smile. Troy nodded that he was receiving her. She then told him to "Mingle" and wandered into the crowd.

Troy touched his ring before walking toward another part of the crowd. He wasn't used to wearing one on that finger. His wedding ring was a simple gold band with "I love you" engraved inside. It was identical to Julie's, except hers was engraved with the words "I know." This ring was on his right hand, on his pinky. It pinched slightly, because it had been resized from a hand much smaller than his and couldn't get past his second knuckle without risking breaking the ring or its contents.

The ring was special for two reasons. The first was that it was one of very few authorized reproductions of the original rings that it had been designed to resemble. The second was what made it unique: that it had been fitted with a tiny microphone, completely invisible amongst the cuts and grooves of the emerald signet rings worn by members of La Familia Royale de San Finzione. It belonged to Rita Delvecchio and had a special purpose for when she used her resemblance to Contessa Helena de San Finzione to fill in for her at certain events.

As Troy associated with people whom he recognized as some of the most horrible in the world, he held a drink in his hand so that the ring wouldn't slip off, and he had an excuse to bring it up high enough for the voice of the person he was speaking with to be picked up by the microphone. Normally, when Rita wore the ring, there were translators on the other end who would listen to what was being said and tell her what to say back in the language of the person she was speaking to. It was necessary for her duties as Contessa Helena de San Finzione's double, to simulate Helen's natural gift for languages. Although Rita was a native of San Finzione and spoke all of the official languages, La Contessa was known for speaking a great number more of them. All of them, if one believed La Contessa.

Because Troy's conversations with the Auctioneers' guests were going to be much shorter, the full team of translators wasn't required. Helen was able to do the job herself, with an earbud in her own ear that would transmit to Troy's via bone vibration, so that muttering the words was sufficient for Troy to hear clearly when Helen would listen to the language of the person that he was speaking to, determine what it was, and tell Troy how to say a specific phrase to each person he spoke to, while she was doing the same with others.

The phrase was "You don't want Lot 15. Don't bid on it." Occasionally, depending on whom Troy was speaking to, she added the phrase "Just be afraid of the person who DOES get it." There were other messages for specific voices that Helen recognized. She simply had to tell Troy what to say in one of the three languages that he knew before telling him the phrase. One of the important parts of The Thing was understanding what one was trying to convey with the command. This meant that Helen had to be honest about what she was telling Troy to say, allowing him to use his own judgment on whether or not to relay Helen's messages.

"You love using all these languages, don't you?" He asked her.

"Most days, I end up so hot from it that I need Jeanne to come speak French between my legs, Oui."

"This is what you do all the time, isn't it?" Troy murmured over the comms to Helen in Greek. "All those charity balls and parties with 'the elite.' This is where you get most of your work as Contessa done."

"I've stopped wars over the course of a dance, yes." Came her reply in the same language. "And just for you, Troilus, I fight the urge to tell genocidal maniacs to drive off a cliff on their way home. The ones who are stupid enough to come near me themselves."

"If I haven't actually said the words, Helen; I apologize for saying that Propappou wouldn't be proud of how you got where you are. He was always proud of you. When we took him to Greece for his final days, he'd tell the cousins 'My Petalouda Mikro, she a QUEEN! They call her Komissa, but she really queen! But don't you go bugging her for stuff. She busy, she gots the queening to do."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Helena's patented "Delighted-to-Meet-You" smile changed to a genuine one as she mingled and gave the people she spoke to the same subtle commands.

"I fucking love you, Master." Came Helen's response, still in Greek. "I wouldn't even know HOW to not love you, Troy."

Troy detected the note of her fighting back tears. The next time they encountered each other as they mingled, Helen gave Troy a longer, deeper kiss.

"I don't think I even have a choice in loving you anymore, Mistress. I think it's a law of the universe. Lemme think: E=MC squared, Cognito Ergo Sum, Troy loves Helen, an object in motion... wait, it's that last one."

They smiled and held hands a moment before going back to mingling until it was time to be seated.

* * *

Contessa Helena de San Finzione bid one-hundred million dollars. Grumbling filled the room, but nobody bid against her.

"Do I hear one-ten? One-hundred-and-ten million? No? One-hundred going once... twice." He gave an overly-long pause before banging his gavel. "Sold to Contessa Helena de San Finzione for one-hundred million dollars. That concludes this evening's proceedings. You have thirty minutes to finalize your purchases and arrange transport. Good evening, we hope to see you all next time."

And with that, the Auction was over. Helen and Troy walked over to the cashier to arrange the money transfer. Mander rejoined them as Ultimados arrived to load the items into the two Winnebagos and the back of a pickup truck.

Because she'd bought most of the items, they stayed longer than anyone else. Troy took note of all of the bad looks the two of them were getting; then remembered that he was a "nobody," and all of them were directed at Contessa Helena de San Finzione. A woman they hated and feared before she was the owner of the world's most powerful assassination tool, and her buying it out from under them all had done nothing to improve their attitude towards her.

"It's strange," the Auctioneer told La Contessa as her transfer cleared and the Ultimados packed everything up. "How nobody bid against you for what was supposed to be the featured item of the evening."

"Maybe they just weren't convinced by the video." She responded with a sweet smile. As Helena bent to enter her code to finalize the transaction, she gave a side-glance to Troy. "I hope the next Auction will have a few more surprises." She finished and looked back up at the Auctioneer. "I trust my money will still be good next time?"

There were a few moments of silence before he answered.

"I daresay that La Contessa's money was the ONLY money that was good this time. She needn't worry."

Helena smiled at that. The Ultimados hauled the items away. She, Troy, and Mander departed the barn where they'd spent the past few hours with some of the most horrible people on Earth, so that some of the other most horrible people on Earth could clean up and vanish.

* * *

The next morning, their family was gathered around the breakfast table again. It was in the early hours when they returned home from the Auction. Susan had gone to bed in her own room that evening, and since Helen was going to have to leave later that day, she went to bed with Julie so that they could say goodbye properly, and Troy went up to Susan's room and joined her.

"I'd been hoping we'd have you here for the rest of the week." Susan said to Helen, pouring everyone coffee. "Brenda's been looking forward to meeting you again."

"Oh! I wanted to meet her again, too." Helen replied, looking straight at Troy. "However, I hadn't planned on walking out of there with an entire doomsday arsenal to need to get back to San Finzione and dispose of."

"You're making the world a better place, Helen." Troy said, patting her hand. Helen's response was to turn to Julie.

"Your husband made me buy anthrax!" She tattled to Julie. "Not the band! I could've HIRED Anthrax to come play the Greens' Lawn this morning, on this short a notice, for a lot less than I paid for THIS anthrax!"

Julie patted Troy's hand.

"I'm sure he had a good reason." Was her response.

Susan returned to the table.

"Helen," she said. "It's you, so it's worth asking: Are we going to open the front door to wave goodbye to your limo and see Anthrax playing across the street?"

"Driving off into the sunset to 'I'm The Man' would be kind of cool, but I just now thought of it."

"You don't plan to fly back to San Finzione with all that, do you?" Julie asked.

"Oh, hell no!" Helen replied. "My plane's back here from taking Rita home. That stuff'll go on San Finzione One with the Ultimados, and the fighter escorts, and everything. Mander, Bluey, a few Ultimados, and I will be using Rita's Contessa Class suite to get home, so Maria can get back to having a life. Oh, and I'm sorry for the busy week you're going to have next week, Mistress. But be sure to give that Tom Arnette guy an exclusive; he's pretty sharp, he remembered you and your work from your shoes at the thing in Spokane. I think he might really 'get' your stuff. Kept thinking his name was 'Bob' earlier. Weird."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Julie nodded and took a sip of her coffee.

"It counts as a prank, Also Mistress."

Susan decided a subject change was in order.

"I guess we can use a couple days to get ourselves off of being on San Finzione time."

Helen remembered something and reached into her purse for it.

"That reminds me. I left that voice message for her, but you'll probably see Claire again before anyone else, if you'll pass this along to her for Mander."

She slid Susan one of her own cards but written on the back was another phone number with a San Finzione country code, along with a set of GPS coordinates. Susan took the card and nodded.

"I'll be sure to give it to her. Not sure how long I'm going to be staying at the yoga studio, though. There's less to do as a secretary there than you'd think. And after what you and Troy did to Whyte's businesses, I've definitely got enough money to not have to worry about a job for quite a while. I've never really had 'breathing room' like that. Maybe I should take a bit to give this 'figuring out who I am' thing my full attention."

"You can definitely afford to take as much time as you need, Susan." Troy agreed. "And that sounds like a good idea. I know I've liked the Susan I've gotten to know so far. Finding more of her would be amazing."

She smiled at that and took his hand.

"Hell, you guys could even start charging me rent at last, and I'd probably still be ok."

"You don't pay rent to live at home, Susan." Helen answered, taking a sip of her coffee. "That's not the Greek way. You help out, sure, but if they love you, they're not going to charge you."

"Told ya Propappou and I have had this discussion with someone else." Troy answered Susan. "And it's all just easier for me to handle the bills through the household corporation."

"And I guess if anything happens, my bank robbery plan WAS pretty good."

Everyone laughed at that.

"Well, Susan." Helen replied, finishing her coffee. "If finding yourself involves any travel, don't let ME find out you're paying for airfare and hotels! Give your name, and if possible, ID, at any Air Finzione ticket counter or Società Finzione establishment and they'll take care of you."

Susan smiled at that.

"I haven't heard of many journeys of self-discovery that involved first-class accommodations."

"Ours did." Julie offered. "All over Europe. We just, ya know, didn't pay."

"This time," Helen added. "You know the owner and she's cool with it."

"Thanks, guys. I don't know that the 'go to Tibet and scale a mountain' thing is something I'm going to need to do; I was thinking of starting off small, like finding my parents' old house in Tacoma and seeing if any of the neighbors remember them and what they can tell me about them, but it's nice to know the option's there."

There was a knock at the door. Capitan Ortega reported that most of the Ultimados had left with the packages and that her escort were ready to depart. Mander and Bluey were ready when she was, and he would be leaving a few Ultimados to stay out the rest of the week and monitor the area, in case Whyte had arranged any final surprises before he died. There were few enough staying that there was no need for the Green Family Reunion ruse anymore, and everything on the lawn had been packed up.

They would, of course, wait however long La Contessa wished. She would have loved to tell him to let the Ministry of Science handle it all and spend the rest of the week with her family. But Maria and San Finzione needed her back, and now she had a personal matter to attend to there.

There was no putting off her departure any longer. Troy, Julie, and Susan walked to the front porch to say goodbye. Julie came up first and wrapped her arms around Helen. Helen did the same and kissed her first girlfriend deeply.

"I think we're coming to San Finzione from now on." Julie told her. "When we came to see you, there was only the one explosion."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"Mmm..." Helen Mmmed in Julie's ear. "I promise you a lot more than the one next time."

"Then stop getting stabbed and caught up in psychos' power games so we can."

"I'll avoid the stabbing. The power games kind of come with the job."

"Then you remember that we're here to help; because Ohana means Family, you fucking cunt."

"And Family means no skanky cow gets left behind."

Julie stepped out onto the front porch to wave to Mander and Bluey, who were getting in the limo. Troy stepped up, wrapped his arms around her, picked her up and set her down, then hugged her.

"Julie already gave you the whole 'family' speech, I know." Troy told her.

"Yeah. So, you're going to have to come up with something else wise or deep now."

Troy thought a moment.

"Maybe you didn't notice, Helen; but at some point, you stopped 'visiting' and started 'being home.' You know where your key is, you know the alarm code. There is ALWAYS some place for Helen to run."

"You've seen the sort of thing I'd be running from, now. The kind of thing that nobody else stands against. Despite what I tell Maria, there's a LOT more to this job than ordering people around and looking beautiful for the cameras. I try to do it your way, or Propappou's way, or Vincenzo's way. A lot of these fucks give me no choice but to do it my way. It's too much for a 22-year-old to handle; too much to just dump on Maria."

"It was too much for another 22-year-old, too." Troy said, kissing her. "Often times, it still seems too much for a 28-year-old."

"It CAN be a pretty lonely job." Helen said to him with pleading eyes.

Troy's answer was to kiss her again and whisper in her ear.

"Have Maisson text me."

She nodded, and Troy went to join Julie outside.

Susan was the last to approach her. They stood in silence and smiled at each other awkwardly before Helen stepped forward and hugged Susan. She returned it.

"I love..." Susan whispered in Helen's ear. "When you Don't Die."

"Don't you do it either, and I'll try to keep it up for you."

A small kiss and they broke the embrace.

Mander and Bluey were still waving to Troy and Julie when Helen and Susan emerged. Helen walked toward the limo. Bluey got in, Mander staying behind to hold the door for La Contessa. She walked up the driveway, onto the street, and stopped at the door. Helen waved sadly to the three people and the place that she called "home, the local one," before going back to the bigger one with different people whom she loved. She stepped in the limo and Mander waved to them one last time before getting in himself and closing the door.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

The car started down the road, then stopped. A couple of minutes passed, and then the limo's sound system came on. The opening beats of I'm The Man started blasting from the speakers. The limo continued moving.

Troy, Julie, and Susan walked back into the house. They went into the living room and sat on the couches around the TV. Across the street, the sound system and volleyball nets had been taken down, and the neighborhood was quiet again.

They looked around at the house and each other. It was Thursday, none of them had anything in particular to do before Monday.

"Helen was only here four days." Susan said to no one.

"Yep." Julie responded to no one.

"Well, what would you all like to do now?" Troy asked.

They thought for a long time before Susan broke the silence.

"Wanna have cybersex?"

Troy and Julie jumped at the idea. Troy ran to a drawer as Julie and Susan began undressing. He brought back an armful of things and dumped them on the coffee table.

Julie and Susan grabbed the strange headbands that had giant plastic pieces that went over the ears and bent inward at the top, looking like metal handles on their heads. Troy grabbed a clip-on bowtie and affixed it to his shirt. He then put on a fez and picked up the 11th Doctor's sonic screwdriver, backing toward the bedroom, pointing it at the two women and making it light up and buzz as they stomped toward him.

"Your clothing will be deleted!" Susan proclaimed, stomping toward Troy.

"You will be uploaded!" Julie shouted, stomping naked toward Troy as well.

Firing the sonic screwdriver at them randomly, Troy continued to allow the two women to back him into the bedroom before the door closed.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

So Night Follows Day Pt. 30

"I bought a first-class ticket
on Malaysian Air,
and landed in Sri Lanka,
none the worse for wear.
I'm thinking of retiring
from all my dirty deals.
I'll see you in the next life.
Wake me up for meals."
-Warren Zevon, Mr. Bad Example

"Maleficent is here! Repeat: Maleficent is here!"

The Secret Service agent spoke Contessa Helena de San Finzione's codename as she walked past him, through the West Wing of the White House, toward the Oval Office.

"Contessa!" One of the President's aides; Helen didn't remember what he did, but that he was one of the people who actually did things around here, ran up to her nervously shouting. He seemed to be both be trying to get her attention and alert everyone that she was there at the same time. "Contessa Helena de San Finzione!"

Helen waited until he said her full name and title to finally turn around and address the man.

"Oh, hi there." She said with a smile, as they continued walking. "I'm not staying, this isn't an official visit. I just stopped in to use the phone."

"I, uh..." The man floundered for something to say. "I noticed that you refused Secret Service protection for your visit, again."

"I've told you all before: I have my Ultimados." Helen said, lighting a cigarette. "They do everything your little Secret Service does except better. Especially the standing out in a crowd, Mr. Ignore-My-Ray-Bans-Indoors-While-I-Whisper-Into-My-Cufflink!" The last, she yelled over her shoulder at another agent that they passed.

She burst into the Oval Office, causing the President and more of his advisers to stop whatever they were talking about. Helen noticed poker cards, chips and girly magazines being stashed.

"Don't get up." She commanded everyone. "Everyone shut up and stay where you are. Except you." She pointed at the President. "Yes, shut your hole, but stand up and walk over to that side of the room. The last thing I want is YOU anywhere within photo op range of me. I'm here to use the phone."

He walked over to the other door of the room, folded his arms, and started continuously nodding; the way he did to indicate to people that he wasn't listening to a word they said and was just waiting for his chance to speak again.

Helen walked up to his desk and opened the top drawer. She took out the red telephone, propped her feet up on the desk, and picked up the receiver. She dug something out of her purse while she waited for the person on the other end to pick up.

"Vlad!" She said when the other person picked up, flicking her ashes onto the President's desk. She began speaking in Russian. "Yeah, Contessa Helena de San Finzione here. I was on my way home and thought I'd stop in and have a word. And I'm doing it this way, because... well, one, I want to talk to the organ grinder, not the monkey; and two, because this is as close as I like to get to you, and I don't want either of you little pricks getting my number."

She took a piece of paper with a list of names on it and set it on the desk.

"Here's what's gonna fucking happen: I'm leaving a paper with your bitch." She explained. "It's a list of forty-one names of people being held in the Uongoian refugee camps. San Finzione will provide them safe passage and transport to America, America's going to grant them full citizenship with zero hassles or media attention. Your little doggy is gonna sit here and like it and get nothing in return. He doesn't even get to 'act big' for it for the media. YOUR task is to let him know he's going to do it, because the language of Shit is about the only one I don't know, so I'll let you two discuss it. And if you have the tiniest issue with it, you've no doubt already heard about my big shopping spree last night." There was a pause. "I'm glad we understand each other."

She stood up, put out her cigarette on the desk, dropped the receiver, and headed for the patio door. She looked at the fucker whom he and his businesses, Vincenzo had been wise to ban from San Finzione decades before he decided to destroy any admiration the world had left for the country that he'd made Helen proud to call "No longer my own." If she stopped to tell this "man" all the things that were wrong with him and that he needed to stop doing right now, Maria will have married Stavro and solved the heir problem in the course of natural time herself by the time Helen got home. The Primary Home, now.

"He wants to talk to you now." She told the President in English. Halfway out the door, she stopped and turned around.

"The next time any of you are on camera and try to explain how some new tax cut for you and your rich pals is going to be good for America; you'll shit your pants on the spot. All of you, once you find out about it. Ciao, America!"

* * *

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Detective Inspector Luc Tomas Allaine of Interpol shut off his desktop computer. He grabbed his coat and hat, departed Interpol HQ, got on his bike, and rode home through the streets of Lyon. He was a few minutes ahead of the end of his shift, but his supervisor never seemed to mind if Luc wanted to knock off a few minutes early; primarily because it decreased the chance of their encountering each other.

As he got off his bike and prepared to mount the three steps to his and Sam's home, a voice from the hedge row next to him caused him to drop his bike with a start.

"Detective Inspector Allaine?" The voice he now recognized whispered.

"My own personal Cultural Attaché." He replied, picking up his bike. "Commissioner Gordon only has to worry about encounters like these at night."

"Batman must require more sleep than an Ultimado." She replied.

"If you're checking to see if I accidentally destroyed everything that our mutual friend gave me, it's all tragically fallen into my deskside shredder. Except for the flash drive, that suffered a nasty encounter with the butt of my service weapon."

"No. He trusts that you have done this. I am here for the other thing."

"Oh, oui." Luc fished a key with a note wrapped around it out of his pocket. He looked at the hedge for a hand to extend to take it. When it didn't happen, he tossed the key over the hedge. He didn't hear anything land. "Whyte's box is here in Lyon; the note has the bank and box number. With what M'sieur Equals and I uncovered to connect the things I had already gathered on him, Americans will confess to enjoying Nickelback before they admit to ever having owned a Whyte product."

"He thanks you." She whispered. "And so does La Contessa."

"I am happy to help them both." Luc responded, tipping his helmet to the hedge. "I was thinking of simply telling you which bank and box; and seeing if you could get the contents without the key."

"It could be done. This saves me the effort."

"I suppose I should get inside and let you disappear, shouldn't I?"

"That, too, would save me some effort." She replied.

"Very well, then. Adieu... what should I call you?"

"Why don't you come up with something?" She answered.

Luc thought a moment.

"I like 'The Cultured Woman' for your name."

"Merci." She replied, her voice starting to fade. "I like it, too. Tres X-Files."

Luc nodded to the hedge and continued his journey up the steps. He walked in the door, whistling the X-Files theme.

* * *

[Ramesh_Rocky]

At a table at an outdoor café near the San Finzione Marketplace, there sat a Yia-Yia. As there had for as long as anyone could remember. The owner was the sixth generation of his family to run the café, and the fifth to no longer question how she was there every morning before they opened and remained there every night when they locked up and went home. He presumed that she had to get up and use the washroom at some point and that she couldn't possibly wait there overnight for him to open each day but was never able to find the time to intently watch her and find out.

The Yia-Yia did what she always did; she drank her vino and watched the world go by. People and things seemed to no longer enter and exit her field of vision, but rather, her field of opinion. Mostly today, it had been all the airplanes. Oh, there were always noisy airplanes now. She'd heard that the country had gotten an airport some time ago; that would explain it. It was when there were a lot at once, like a big one with a bunch of little ones flying around it. There'd been a couple of those today, and it seemed like the noise would never stop. It was inconsequential, nobody had been visiting her at the time, but still annoying.

She had gotten a visitor earlier today, though. That Tessa girl had stopped by. She'd only had a few minutes, and there'd been some impatient-looking men with her, but she reasoned that men were always impatient, waiting for their turn to speak to Tessa. She was the kind of girl that men would always want to speak to. Sometimes, rude men would come running up, shouting Tessa's name and vulgar things, and other, polite young men would escort them away, keeping the rude ones from interrupting their conversation.

Tessa seemed happy to see her. She always seemed happy to see everyone, but the Yia-Yia could tell that she had two different kinds of it, and this was obviously the real one. She was doing a lot of talking, about things that didn't make sense. Being home, then going somewhere in America that was also home, and now being back home and seeing her at her table and needing to stop and hug her, so that Tessa would know that she was, once more, home. From home, apparently.

The Yia-Yia had suspected for a while that Tessa might be American. If so, that would explain everything. It would explain nothing, but it would also explain everything.

Tessa had also brought her a gift. It was an ash tray. The Yia-Yia didn't smoke, so it was obviously for Tessa's use when she came to visit, implying that she planned to do so more often. That sentiment was worth it. The ash tray had a picture of that Eiffel Tower-type thing that the Americans have. She'd seen it on television and tourists' shirts, and thought it was called a Seattle. Tessa had thought of her, anyway.

She looked at the ash tray, and the strange American word, which she figured must be "Seattle" under the picture of the Seattle. It usually had that word under it. She thought about going to look it up to see if that name was right, when the waiter came over and refilled her glass.

Yeah, why change a good thing now.

* * *

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Contessa Helena de San Finzione walked through the halls of the newly renovated San Finzione Ministry of Science. Dr. Miguel Rocco, Minister of Science, walked alongside her as they proceeded to the lab.

"So, you have not tested it, Contessa?" Dr. Rocco asked.

"Well," Helen thought. "I let Jeanne try it on for a little bit. For safety's sake, we didn't press any of the buttons or try any jumping; she just walked around in it. Damn good thing I commanded her to take it off when I said time was up before putting it on. No telling where she might be now. I got her something to make up for it. What about the other things?"

"They are being disposed of, and we are analyzing the items that La Contessa gave us leave to before doing it."

"But not this one?" She asked as they approached a door with a retinal scanner.

"As per your orders, Contessa," Dr. Rocco answered, putting his face up to the device. It scanned his eye and allowed them access. "No one has even looked at the manual."

"Good." Helen answered, as they entered the airlock room.

The laboratory that they were about to enter was normally used for viral and bacteriological research. They put on clean suits before continuing the journey through the other side of the airlock.

"No one else has been here to see it?" She asked through the little speaker on the front of the plastic Nuclear/Biological/Chemical protection helmet that she wore.

"Also, per your orders. This lab is closed. Disposal of the anthrax is taking place elsewhere."

Helena nodded as they continued to their destination. They finally stood at a wall with a clear ballistic plastic window that looked into a smaller sealed room, where live viruses were normally handled. Something that looked like a control panel that slid open was below the window. It had a key lock.

"Nobody's going to panic?" Helen asked Dr. Rocco.

"A drill has been scheduled for this time. They are expecting it."

She peered into the room, staring at the Springheel suit, standing in the middle of it. The manual lay at it's feet.

Helen stared at it for a good while. She thought about the nightmare she'd been having since she first saw the video, about all the people who had died over it already. About the things she'd told Troy about what they could learn from it. Even the manual might give some insights into the suit's creation, some more details about how it was able to do the things in the video. And possibly give an intelligent enough person sufficient insight to make another Springheel. She turned to Dr. Rocco and nodded.

The doctor produced a key and put it in the lock. When he turned it, the panel slid open, revealing a large red button with black-and-yellow warning stripes surrounding it that was embedded into the panel. It was behind a small panel of glass, and a tiny metal hammer on a chain was next to it. Dr. Rocco picked up the hammer and was about to break the glass, when he remembered his manners and offered the hammer to La Contessa. She accepted it and smashed the glass.

Lights began flashing and alarms blared. An announcement played, warning of a bio-containment breach in the lab and advising everyone to evacuate to the nearest decontamination area.

Helen pressed the red button, never taking her eyes off the suit. Holes in the walls, floor, and ceiling of the room opened, and jets of flame shot out from them to burn the room, and anything inside it.

For almost a minute, the suit stood in the middle of it all, being burned from all directions by fire hot enough to insure any living thing that was in the room with it would have been incinerated. She saw the plastic parts of the suit begin to bubble and melt, and then finally the metal. Sparks flew from the electronics and whatever powered it inside. They'd never know what, exactly, as the manual had been vaporized instantly. Helen continued to watch as the suit melted and burned into an unrecognizable lump of metal once the plastic had liquefied and boiled away. Whatever it was now, it was no longer the thing that beheaded her in her nightmares. She watched a while longer, until she felt satisfied. She wanted to smoke and watch it burn some more, but that wasn't possible in the protective gear.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

The fire burned for another two minutes before stopping. The room would still be too hot to enter for at least a day.

"When it's cool enough to handle, bring it to the castle." Helena told Dr. Rocco.

He nodded his understanding.

"Now, I hope you can understand the need for this next part, Miguel. I'll have to address yourself and the team you had working on this project, and I'm going to have to... use my ability... on all of you. The RIGHT people in the world think that I have Springheel now; the people who need to be afraid that I'll use it on them if they try to harm San Finzione, Maria, or myself. The ones who will be forced to wonder, every time something goes wrong with their plans, if me and Springheel were the ones behind it. There can be no risk of them learning what I've really done with it. The THREAT of Springheel is the best possible way to use it for the good of The People. So, I'm sorry and thoroughly regret that I must do something like this to people who've devoted their lives to science and the pursuit of knowledge, Miguel; however, neither you nor they can be allowed to remember this. I'm going to have to have a similar talk with Howard and his people later, too. Apart from a select handful of people, the only ones who are going to remember that it ever even existed are Ramirez and the Ultimados; because they'll never talk, and I figure my Generalissimo should know whether or not the Ultimate Assassination Weapon that he's threatening our enemies with really exists or not."

Dr. Rocco nodded solemnly.

"My duty and theirs is to San Finzione and to you, Contessa. If this is your decision, we are honored to obey."

Helen nodded. The two of them went to the airlock to get out of the suits.

* * *

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Mander and Bluey sat in Air Finzione's VIP Lounge in the airport, waiting to board. Contessa Helena de San Finzione sat opposite them to see them off.

"Well, Your Countessness." Mander said as they announced boarding. "It's been a mostly enjoyable time."

Helen smiled at him.

"It's always cool to see you, Mander." She turned to Bluey and signed. "And nice to meet you, too."

Bluey nodded and signed his thanks back. Mander nudged him and pointed to a speaker on the ceiling to indicate that their flight was now boarding.

"The yacht will be waiting at the harbor, ready to take you home." Helena told Mander, handing him a set of keys with a float attached. "Ernst can come deliver your helicopter next week, and if it's all right, stay a couple days and give you a couple basic lessons; you guys can work out more. There's also a big metal-and-plastic lump of something that'll be waiting on the deck of the yacht, if one of you big guys wouldn't mind just shoving it over the side somewhere deep on your way back to Mander Island, that'd be cool."

"Yeah, he seemed all right. I can do that for ya. Pretty good idea what it is." Mander replied.

"And the next time I need someone to watch my back when the Ultimados can't?"

"I'll be happy to recommend some blokes I know." Mander said with a smile.

Helena smiled back. They debated a hug for a moment before settling on a handshake.

"Any time you want to visit, Your Countessness... well, I guess we learned I can't really stop ya any time you want to visit, so just go right ahead."

Helen nodded, and left the two to board their flight. Because they were flying Contessa Class, they were rushed through the VIP line to their suite.

"The birds're gonna love ya, man." Mander signed to Bluey as they sat down on the big couch and fastened the belts between the cushions for takeoff.

"Cool." Bluey signed back. "As long as I can get myself a nice, cold Budweiser."

Mander made a frown.

"We're gonna have to talk about that one."

* * *

Contessa Helena de San Finzione walked through the Grand Hall of Castle Finzione. Paintings of past Counts and Contessas who'd sat on the throne looked down at her. They also looked down at Contessa-in-Reggenza Maria Louisa Francesca de San Finzione as she walked next to her Great-Grandmother, looking at the rulers of San Finzione who had come and gone before them.

"Everyone's here?" Helena asked Maria as they walked. Maria nodded.

"They have been waiting in the Banquet Hall." Maria replied.

"They have two Contessas to wait for tonight." Helena said as she continued walking. "They can wait twice as long."

She stopped to light a cigarette in front of Vincenzo's portrait. He had been younger than either of them when it had been painted, days after he'd retaken his family home and driven the Nazis from his country. A young man who, thus far, had won every battle he'd fought; but was also keenly aware that he'd only really fought two of them to this point. That there was still a greater war to be won, and now that San Finzione had cleared out the rats, he and the country were ready to do whatever the world needed of them. Saving the economy would come later; just because it was no longer at their doorstep didn't mean that there wasn't still fighting to be done. And they'd made him stop and pose for a portrait. That look; the look of a man of action, forced to stop and stand still when the entire world needs him, carried through to them as they looked at him. Maria urged Helena on, knowing that if she did not, the rest of La Familia de San Finzione, gathered in the Banquet Hall, might be waiting all night.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Because Contessa Sofia, Vincenzo's first wife, hadn't been the Reigning Monarch in her short life, her portrait was located in another gallery, so the next portrait on the wall was Helena's own. It had been posed for a week into her own reign, when she had still been seriously considering stuffing the crown jewels into a trunk and using that secret exit in what was historically the War Room, and now her Study, to escape the castle with them and flee the country.

"You were scared." Maria said. Helena nodded her agreement.

"Completely. I saved time on the whole 'figuring out who I can trust' thing by trusting none of them, right from the beginning. I had forgotten that I always had family I could have called at any moment to help me through it."

They walked a little further, until they came to the newest portrait in the Grand Hall: Maria's. She had been Reigning Monarch for only the past two months, following the attempt on Helena's life, and she would be handing the Tiara, the Scepter, and the throne back to Helena at a ceremony tomorrow; but she had served at least one week, and that was the traditional benchmark that indicated whether or not a ruler of San Finzione was going to be around long enough to justify a Royal Portrait.

"I do not think I deserve it." Maria said, studying her portrait.

"You have sat on the throne, Maria." Helen replied. "The real way, not as the Princess playing grown-up. History books are being written now about how, when I was laid low by an assassin's blade, you stepped up and led San Finzione. They'll say it was a preview of your reign to come." She turned to Maria and smiled. "And they'll speak well of it. Children in history classes will recite the names of our rulers, they'll get to my name, and then they'll say yours before they say mine again. And some day, yours again, too. Hopefully, they won't ask for your full name and title, so everyone still gets to go to lunch. We'll let the gift shops and museums sell their remaining prints, and they'll become valuable collector's items. We can keep a couple thousand down in the vault, and whenever you need some quick cash, you can always autograph one and get Stavro to take it in to a collectible shop and haggle."

"Make Stavro do it because he is a man?" Maria asked with a curious turn of her head.

"Make Stavro do it because he is a Greek. And it is haggling. They invented it, and anyone who says otherwise is lying. I don't know if you got to the big stack of discs, but on the first one, the part on selecting your cabinet; it's the same reason I tell you to make him Minister of Foreign Trade. Trust me on the collectibles thing, though. The stuff skyrockets in value every time they think you're dead. I paid for Mander Island with a couple of my old ballgowns on eBay." Helen studied the portrait some more. "You're smiling. I think you're the first San Finzione to look relaxed and happy in your portrait."

"I knew you would be coming back." Maria answered. "And I would not be there long."

"It's your birthright. To claim whenever you wish."

"I like what my Great-Grandmama has been doing with it. It will be much better later."

They walked further on, past where two spots on the wall had already been cleared. One had been for Helena's second portrait, which she'd pose for the week after she re-took the throne tomorrow. A San Finzione relinquishing power back to another willingly had happened so few times in the country's history that it merited a new portrait for the returning Monarch's second reign. For the same reason, a place had been reserved for the day Maria or a possible future heir reigned permanently.

"We are all happy to have you home." Maria said with a smile, taking Helena's hand.

Helen looked toward their eventual destination, the Banquet Hall where La Familia was waiting for them. She could picture them all, circling the table like vultures and drooling at the food that they knew they couldn't touch until La Contessa had arrived and been seated, staring impatiently at the two empty chairs at the head of the table.

"At least one is about to not be." Helena replied.

* * *

La Familia de San Finzione mingled at the bar in the Banquet Hall, sucking up the free drinks and consuming all of the bar snacks as they eyed the food on the sideboards. It was still steaming, but the wisps of steam were getting smaller now as their gazes moved between each other, the food, the two empty chairs at the head of the table, and the entrance that the two Contessas would be walking through to those chairs, sitting, and having their plates brought to them; indicating that the rest could go to the sideboards and load up.

The room fell silent as they entered side-by-side. For many of them, it had been their first sight of either of the two since before the incident in the ballroom. Per Contessa Helena's unsealed emergency orders to them during the crisis, the Ultimados had been good about keeping the rest of La Familia from "offering their guidance and support in little Maria's time of need."

[Ramesh_Rocky]

As the two crossed the room to their chairs, Helena recalled that first night with Vincenzo, and his description of La Familia de San Finzione as "greedy and spoiled distant relations with one eye on my blood pressure and the other on the throne." She'd hoped that he'd been exaggerating, but quickly learned that he hadn't been. That he, and now Helena and Maria; were all that was holding them back from consuming themselves and the entire country in a Machiavellian power struggle, and that his decision to stick them over on the Business Side of La Familia's interests "so that their greed might, at least, be harnessed into something for the good of The People," had been a wise one.

The two of them reached their seats. Maria smiled to everyone and sat down. Helena smiled to everyone, started to sit down, and then stopped. She straightened back up again.

"About two and a half, three months ago." She said to the room in Italian, the common language of La Familia. "One or more of you met with Leonard Whyte CBE. Maybe you shared a round of golf, maybe you had a business appointment with him, perhaps he invited you to a lovely meal like this one. And maybe he had some questions for you. Questions about me, or about La Familia's business; a certain specific word, doesn't matter which. And he might have offered you something to pass along any information you had about us, or that word, or that business. You all remember what you're supposed to do if someone starts asking you personal questions about myself or Maria; or if someone comes to you offering a deal involving either of us or La Familia's business. What was it again?"

"Accept the offer, give them a little something to play along if you have to; but learn as much as you can. Then, as soon as you are able, report all of it directly to Great-Grandmama." The entire room, even Maria, answered. Maria and some of the others had never been given this as a command, it was simply a tradition to go over this rule whenever Great-Grandmama addressed La Familia like this.

Helena nodded to indicate that they'd given the correct answer.

"Someone forgot the last part, and it's caused me problems, it's caused Maria problems, and it's caused San Finzione problems the past couple months. Now, Great-Grandmama isn't mad at you, not just yet. And if you come forward without her having to MAKE you, she still won't be mad. But if you force her to make it a command..."

One of the younger men stepped forward. A look of disappointment fell upon Helen's face.

"Ricardo?" She asked him. "I was really expecting Benito or Lucinda, but ok. I am not upset at you; however, this DOES mean that you can't join us at the grown-up table tonight. The kids' table's more fun, anyway. Why do you think the staff waits until I inevitably wander over there to serve dessert? We'll talk more afterwards." She turned toward the kids' table. "Which, by the way, is Great-Grandmama's favorite tonight." The children cheered. Some of the adults whose blood sugar was a concern groaned. She turned back toward the adults. "Everyone else, don't worry. You'll see Ricardo at work in the morning; I have a feeling SOMEONE'S going to be wearing the 'I Tried to Sell Out Great-Grandmama' shirt and hat for a while, so you'll probably hear him coming before you see him, because of the bells and horns. Just keep the marshmallow cannons and Silly String loaded and ready!"

She turned to Maria and they eyed the sideboard. Servants waited to collect up whatever they pointed to and bring it, so that they could dish up before everyone else.

"That's how you keep these people in line, Dearest One. Now, what looks good to you?"

* * *

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Contessas Helena and Maria de San Finzione stood on one of Castle Finzione's many balconies; the Speech Balcony, used for addressing crowds in the courtyard below. Both wore emerald-green royal robes, with full capes wrapped around and trailing behind them.

A single State Television camera covered the ceremony. Maria wore La Contessa's tiara. It was a bit large for her head, because Maria hadn't bothered getting it fitted, reasoning that she wouldn't be wearing it for long. She picked the gold scepter up from it's case and walked over to where her Great-Grandmama was standing in front of a table. Maria stood on the opposite side of the table and faced Helena.

"Will you accept this scepter," Maria asked, as she placed it on the table before Helena. "Which shows all the world that you are La Contessa de San Finzione, ruler and servant of the People of San Finzione, and monarch of the Sovereign County and Independent Nation-State of San Finzione?"

Helena smiled. There wasn't a real formal ceremony for this, but the people expected something. The "and servant" had been something that Vincenzo had added to the title.

"I will." Helena replied, picking it up. She set it back down again, because she'd need both hands to put on the tiara.

"And will you accept this tiara," Maria continued, removing it and placing it on the table. "Which shows the all the world that you are Contessa Helena de San Finzione, Matriarch of La Familia de San Finzione; ruler, defender, and servant of the People of San Finzione and her lands, seas, and skies?"

"I will." Helena replied, taking the tiara, and placing it on her own head. Since it had already been fitted for her to begin with, it fit again this time.

"And will you keep and protect these things which are yours, to show all the world that you belong to them and they belong to you?"

"This, I will not do." Helena responded.

Maria paused. They hadn't really scripted anything, just ironed out that Maria would ask her something as she gave her each one, and she'd accept it. There hadn't been a script for Helen to go off in the first place, but nonetheless, she was doing it.

"I will keep and protect these things which are YOURS. To show all the world that I belong to you, and they belong to you, Dearest One."

Contessa Helena de San Finzione and Lady Maria de San Finzione hugged. Behind them in the distance, Jeanne wheeled her new drink trolley past, wearing her maid's uniform and the videophone helmet that Helen had taken from Whyte.

The State cameraman packed up and left, and the tiara and scepter were returned to their cases.

* * *

Contessa Helena de San Finzione lay alone in bed. Jeanne had already given her a proper "welcome home," and retired for the night. She lay naked on top of the blankets. The night was warm enough not to need them.

She looked down at her body. At the places where plastic surgeons had been able to remove the scars, but she would always know where they were. Her hand reached up to the one that she couldn't see anyway, but she could certainly feel; the one on her throat, where Frank Morgan nearly finished her for good, if it hadn't been for Vincenzo's necklace.

She held up the chain. Let the bauble dangle between her breasts and looked at it in the moonlight. Vincenzo gave it to her on her second, and last, birthday with him. Helen removed the necklace and set it on her nightstand, next to a small blue envelope that hadn't been sealed, so it stood like a little tent. She moved the tent over onto the necklace.

Helena closed her eyes and went to sleep.

* * *