The sea breeze slipped through the loose parts of my clothing and lifted them to flutter like banners around me while I spread my arms as if they were wings, imitating the scene in Titanic where Jack and Rose pretended to fly while singing "Flying Machine."  Maximus' body against my back was warm and supportive, while I flew all over the world in my mind.  A day into the happiest of times.  Spending time with family and friends in paradise.  A time for new beginnings.  For letting go of the problems of the past.  And for me, that meant finding someone and making peace.  

"Maximus?"

"Yes?" He was nuzzling the back of my neck, whispering suggestions for two of the three hours until dinner.

"Will you indulge me?"

"I'm trying to." I could feel his grin on my skin. Giggling, I turned in his arms.

"Actually, I want to indulge you as well, but I need you to get ready for dinner elsewhere. Please?" He gave me 'the look'. "I'll ask Jeff if you can change in his room."

"Well enough. What's the mystery?"

"You will see. Just let's find Jeff."  He splashed water at us when we found him at the pool.  He looks rather good in Speedos even with the bit of baby fat.  I love the bit of baby fat. 

After ribbing about threesomes and other off-color suggestions, I pulled him aside.  "Will you mind letting Maximus get ready for dinner in your room? I don't want him to see the dress."

"What dress?" His reward for his cheek was a slug to the arm. He had read about the thing in mine and Uma's diaries.

"Please?"

"Can I perve him a bit?"  Tongue between his teeth, he raised his eyebrows sardonically.

I glanced to Maximus and felt the wickedness just standing in the same space with Jeff engenders in me spread over my face. "I think you should."

"You are an evil woman, love. I like that about you."

"Thank you, Jeff. I'll make it up to you." I placed a loving peck on his cheek.

"No worries, mate. Just good to see you happy again. It's been too long." He grabbed me hard, and while he and Max went to get the things Max needed, I went looking for Uma.

I had thought, when I was so low in spirit and trying to please Terry in my job, that a space of two weeks would not be enough to lay to rest all the underlying problems and worries that overtake us in our little world of the game. Having spent months alone with Maximus inside the portals while I healed and we tried to put the pieces of our shattered love back together, I gave myself time to think that out a little more. I am of three minds now. In the first, I still realize that some things take great whiles to recover from. But in a second thought, why bring those problems on vacation and ruin the fun? The fun can begin the healing. And last, perhaps the lightness of being brought about by getting away from the world can help maneuver reconciliations and provide clearness of thought that was not present inside the situation. But even armed with that new attitude, it was not easy to approach Uma.  Frankly, I am hopeless with cosmetics. Always was. Even when I was a prostitute, I could do other women's hair and faces but never my own. I never needed to anyway. The master had slaves for his girls. I asked Teener first.  In all her wisdom, she suggested Uma. I knew why, and I am grateful to her.  Uma is good.  But it was the perfect moment.  Who else but the woman who shares as strong a love for my man as I do to help me prepare to intrigue him?

She was sitting alone on deck, fingers idly tracing the rail while her mind wandered far away from our companions. Where Terry was, was anyone's guess.  Gathering up my courage, I gently sat behind her and touched her shoulder as she had mine, so many weeks ago on another boat, during another vacation.

"A penny for them, Uma."

I startled her. "Oh, Bou. Hi."

"Are you all right?"

She held up the book that was lying beside her. "Trying to read, just not in the mood. Thinking about stuff."

"May I trouble you for a while?"

"Sure. Is something up?" She was open to spending time with me. A good sign. I breathed a bit easier.

"Nothing, really. Just needed some help with a matter, and I thought perhaps we could talk about some things. We need to anyway.   Some time." This was difficult. So very difficult. A memory of some very hateful thoughts borne on a moment of fear and heartbreak caused me to flush in shame, and I could barely meet her eyes.

"Yeah...guess we do." Was she as nervous as I? It was hard to tell. "What sort of help?"

Exhaling in thought, I presented my dilemma to her. "I want to do something special for Maximus. I sneaked in after you dragged Cort off for more shopping, and bought the green dress." She did not look surprised. "But there is something else I can't do alone because I have never really done it, and I thought if you were willing to assist me, we could do our conversing at the same time?"

"Something kinky? I'm not really into that sort of thing, Bou. I don't talk during." The flood of relief drowned my trepidation. Her eyes were twinkling with merriment and promised that she understood the worry.

"No, if I need help in the kinky department I will ask Hando." It was hard to respond through the giggles that started to overtake me. "It's my hair and makeup actually," I continued. "I think you are more suited to that sort of thing than Hando is. Have you see how he wears his?"

"Some men find that sexy on a woman, though I don't see it working for Max."

"Which?"

"Shaved heads, you dope!"

"Er, no then. Neither do I. He loves lots of hair." But it was growing again. From just below my ears the day we left the hospital until now, it has reached my shoulder blades. And Maximus complains little about it anymore.

"They all like long hair."

"So I find." Hando's confession about what he liked me to do with mine brought a rush of warmth straight where I am certain he had intended.

"Must be why I cut mine." She was smiling with more than a little fiendishness.

"Does Terry like it now?"

"Not really, but he knows when to shut up."

"Well, I still think he needs to get over it. You should be blonde. And you should wear it how you want. He doesn't have to take care of it."

"I know. I was born to be blonde."  She dropped away and stared out to sea.

"What's on your mind?"

"Ah, nothing. You know me." I do. And I know her at least well enough to know there was hardly nothing on her mind. It moves at the speed of light sometimes but is rarely still, and they are not empty thoughts. "Anyway...so you want a makeover." She was trying to change the subject.

"And to talk. I don't want a makeover, really, just to be a queen for a night. Uh, so to speak." 

She appraised me with the practiced eye of a woman that changes her look almost daily. "Might take a while- how long have you got?" I pulled my tongue out at her and she laughed in delight, "Just joking, sweetie."

"We don't meet for dinner for a while. So as long as you need, I have."

"Well we don't have a millenia, but let's go." We sauntered the way to Max' and my room. She glanced askance about my roommate.

"Maximus is already barred from our room until after the party," I assured her.

"Why? What's he done?"

"Nothing. I told him it's a surprise and he can go change in Jeff's room. Jeff said it would be quite all right with him."

"I'll bet he did." Rolling her eyes, she stepped inside the room, and I could almost see her hands itch to put something out of order in it.

"Jeff and I had to conspire at least once against him."

"Won't bother Max though- he's used to bathhouses."

"I doubt he'll even realize what's really going on. He'll be too busy wondering what else I have up my sleeve. What much of those sleeves there are." She was rummaging through my bags, even though she knew I was not carrying anything resembling makeup, though there were some other things in there I did not really want her to see.  Maximus and I spent time in the market at least once during our time away, finding gifts for certain ones. But I know what you are thinking.  The sex toys were in his suitcase.

"I've got some body powder," she finally sighed.

"For?" I had that. I showed her the container triumphantly.  She took it out of my grasp and put it back.

"Not that kind! What I have will make you shimmer. Let me get some stuff. Go take a shower and wash your hair."

"All right. And please, not that awful red lipstick," I whined.

"I have every color. I'll be back in ten minutes."

"Done. I'll be waiting in five." And I waited. And waited.  

Then she poked her head in the door. "Hi Bou...you decent?"

"I'm always decent, unless you're a man. I thought you said ten minutes?"

"I had to blow Terry off. I mean, send him away. Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not a nympho." I raised my eyebrow and grinned.

"Such a shame. Be careful, Uma. You'll become a tart like me. All right then. What first?"

Uma is serious about a project. The gleam in her eye told me so. "Right." She started pulling out tubes and jars of things I had no idea I needed so badly. Would Maximus even recognize me when she was done? She started ticking them off to me, like I would my ancestral line in a council roll call. I wondered if she had to spend twenty years of her life learning by rote all the things women do to their skin to be thought beautiful. No wonder she takes three hours to get ready.

"Body lotion. I have this Dior one," she handed it to me and showed me the contents. "It does all sorts of things to your cells. At least, that's what they told me in the shop."

For such an intelligent woman, she's very easily attracted to sales pitches. "I'm sure they did. You can be sold very easily, can't you? If you want something that does something to your cells, come talk to me some time. I'll mix it for you. It might not smell like this, though."

She pulled a face. "Not rubbing my body with eye of newt and tongue of bat, mate."

"Neither would I. There are better things. Less disgusting things.  Seaweed, aloe, cucumber."

"Okay, I'll go with the sea stuff. Now strip off and don't get all hoity-toity with me. You haven't got anything I haven't."

"No worries." I handed the towel to her and indicated the bathroom floor. "I'm only modest because I'm not flawless. You know us Celts. We admired physical perfection."

She regarded those points of discussion momentarily, particularly the ones left by the bullets. "Don't you know scars are a turn on? They turn me on anyway."

I could not resist. "Don't get ideas, you. I'm a man's woman."

"I didn't mean yours!"

Laughing, I examined some of her 'tools' spread about on the bureau. "I know what you meant. As long as Maximus loves them, I'm happy."

She smiled wistfully. "Max has some great ones..." Then she realized who she was with as though for the first time in the last half hour, and the silence stretched between us for the millenia she said earlier we did not have. She cleared her throat and looked away. We had avoided all discussion of our men ever since meeting in Britain. Enough was enough.

"He does," I agreed softly, hoping to allay her silence. "I love the one on his shoulder where he cut out his tattoo. Jack has so many. I'll write about our scar game sometime. Terry has some good ones too."

"Yes, he does." And her breath came out slowly, relieved. She tossed the towel onto the floor and examined me. When last we had been in each other's presence and in process of changing clothing or whatever, I had been thin, even for me, from lack of desire to eat. When she had seen me in the hospital, I had been unhealthy not only from the ordeal of being shot, but from lack of sleep, decent food, and months-long depression. But the gauntness was gone, replaced by the health of clean air, solid meals, plenty of exercise, and a renewed sense of wellbeing. And yes, plenty of love from my man. I just thought that might go without saying.

Uma was generous with her praise. "Whew! You are looking good." In an afterthought she added, "I wish I had tits like you."

"Thank you. But I think men like small women. So I wish I were less tall like you. Your posture is aided better by having less anyway. When we are old women, I will be hunched over and you will still be standing straight."

"The portals didn't make my tits grow," she reminded me, throwing her shoulders back to prove it, "and I'm not that small. Not tiny."

"Perhaps, but I was working and actually eating well while we were there. Although," I whispered conspiratorially, "Maximus likes to think he had something to do with them growing. 'All the sex,' he says.  I just let him think what he likes."

"Well, you look great anyway."

"Again, I thank you. And I see love agrees with you as well. Are things worked out with Terry?" It does agree with her. Her blue-gray eyes were shining healthy with peace of heart, despite the steady stream of easy jocularity I had witnessed between her and Terry earlier in the day. She just seems happy. Like the world is no longer nipping at her heels, and she is on top of it again. "You are glowing, even if you are not 'in the mood'."

"Yeah." She shyly ducked away. "So good."

"Tell me. I have to catch up on so much."

"Well, you know we patched it up in Barcelona?"

"I'd heard, yes. Maximus told me."

"And then he took me away and...well...it was just magical. I can't really speak about it. I might start crying. And you know how I hate my mascara to run...Come on, let's get started."

"You're impossible, you do know that?" She teases with details and takes forever to reach the good parts.

"Me...really?" The innocent act is rather endearing, though. "They all say that and only because it's true."

"They are right." She was starting to fuss about me, turning me this way and that and making mental notes about what needed the most attention.

"Right. Lie down on the bed and I'll give you a massage." Who was I to argue with that?

She was reading the Dior container out loud. "It says that it rejuvenates, hydrates, repairs cell damage...do you think that means battle scars? Enhances your natural sensuality." Lucky Max.

"Scars should be caught before they become scars, if you are going to minimize the damage," I countermanded the claims of the manufacturer. "Or the looks of them, at any rate. "For skin cells, though, it probably does do all those wonderful things."

"It's got Vitamin E. Anyway, we'll give it a whirl." The cool chill of the Dior hit my back where she started to apply it, and I shivered a bit. But she really is very good at manipulating muscles. She would have me asleep in no time.

"Too bad you weren't a man in my time, Uma. You'd have been put to work in the bathhouses as a masseur and paid very well."

"Max said that." Her hands faltered a bit.  

Gently, I replied, "He would know. He's a connoisseur of massages."

"Yes, well, I'm sure he's had better." Different. But I had no wish to argue. We were communicating quietly and peaceably.

"Quite possibly. It's not only our hands that have touched him. The Greek masseurs loved him. I could hear them talking, sometimes. And they would ask me questions."

"What did they say?" Her curiosity was peeking through.

"They didn't sound any different than we do when we talk about these men. 'Too bad the general likes his women, because I like my men...' 'Boudicca, how does he sleep? Naked, or clothed?' 'If I could just get my hands on that phallus...'"

"So they gave a bit of physical relief if required, did they? What would Max say?"

"Oh yes, if required. But I don't know that he asked it of them. He would only laugh when I told him what they said."

"I can imagine his face though, if he thought they were perving on him." I thought about him in Jeff's room, and snorted.

"He started asking me to give him his massages though, when we first got together. If you've ever seen him blush?"

"Yeah, I have, once or twice." I caught her nod out of the corner of my eye.

"Then you know what his reaction would be."

"Yes...I do." Her voice dropped to a whisper. I had lied some. I had read her diaries about her relationship with Maximus. I smiled to myself and hid my face between my outstretched arms.

Then I had a horrible, evil thought. "I should have told Jeff to dress as a Greek."

She giggled behind me. "Don't put ideas in his head."

"I don't have to. Just guide those ideas about a bit is all."

"You know that Paul has a gladiator fantasy? But then, who doesn't? Jeff would look good chained and in a short tunic."

"Some of us live that fantasy. I imagine he would. Grow a beard, trim it like Max does his, build up that little bit of baby fat, and voila! Instant Maximus! Just add wine."

Uma was warming up to the idea.  The evil smile was in her voice, as she worked more Dior into my body. "But Jeff couldn't keep his face straight. He'd start arsing about."

"Jeff can't do Max' voice, either. He's tried. Gets the accent wrong every time."

"Can't get the strine out of that boy," she enthused.

"... In this fucking life or the next, mate," I mimicked Jeff's hilarious attempts to recreate Maximus' words.

"Can you imagine that?" Uma was still wondering the possibilities.

"Yes. He's done it for me. 'What if Max was Aussie, Bou?'"

"He would roll on the floor laughing!"

"'The gods must love you. But then, looking at ya, I don't blame them, mate.'"

Uma took up the refrain. "'Women pay well to be serviced by the greatest champions.' 'Well get on with it, love, it's been fucking yonks.'"

"I'm so glad it was Cort that took me to Gladiator and not Jeff," I reminisced. "Cort would have just drawn a gun on Commodus. 'I will have my vengeance... Don't be like me. You don't have to go down that path...'"

"'What we do in life...better wear a condom, mate, you don't know where I've been.' 'I'll have the boy, please.'"

"'Do you remember what it was to have thrust, Proximo?'" The more we went, the more insane our imitation of Jeff imitating Max became. I can hardly wait for him to read this.

"'Up your bum, mate!" Uma screamed.

"'Striking story...Someone should make a movie of it!'" Our peals of hilarity shook the bed under us. Wiping tears away, I sympathized for my husband. "Poor Max.  If he could hear this." Uma did a dead-on impression of the cocked eyebrow and chin lift and I almost fell off the bed, I laughed so hard.

"You know, he'd be surprised at you - not at me," she said, matter-of-factly. "I always tease him."

"Actually," I corrected, "I used to as well. I just disappeared out of myself for a while. Forgot who I am."

"Well if this outfit," she had moved back to one of my cases and removed it, pulled the plastic from it and hung it on the door, "doesn't tease him then he's got a bit of a dysfunction. Which, let's face it, we both know he hasn't." The true conversation was about to begin. The small talk over, it was time to get to the heart of things between us.

"No, he has not. The dysfunction was mine. Everything else was a catalyst."

She seemed as reluctant to let me shoulder fault, as I was to let her. "Maybe so. But there was a lot going on. It wasn't all one person's fault."

Taking a deep breath, I acquiesced a little. "No. But I accused people of keeping secrets when I was the guiltiest of all. Including you and Maximus." I looked at her pointedly. "I have secrets still."

"We did keep secrets, though. You had a right to be angry."

"Perhaps. But I felt something far worse for a time, and that is not excusable."

She fluttered about while I gathered my thoughts, searching for accessories and things and responding to me. "We all had negative vibes flying around for a while- not just you."

"So? I set out to deliberately hurt you and Maximus. And others as well."

"I know. Would you believe that we didn't set out to hurt you or Terry?"

"I do now. But then I was drowning and could see nothing."

"In a crazy way we tried to protect you both," she seemed to finish, but went on. "But if we are being honest, and I think that's what you want me to be; when he came to me, I think we both thought...you know..."

"That you had been abandoned?"

"Well, yes, but I meant...this is so hard to say, Bou. I mean, I thought he would stay with me. It was our intention at first."

"Well, I thought that too. So I decided that if you were going to keep my mate, then Terry would need me."

"We realised it was an illusion, that we were just hiding. But I won't lie to you. I do love him. I always will, and Terry knows that." Her eyes sought mine, to try and see how that declaration would affect me. How to tell her that I understood them better than Terry could? That I know my place in Maximus' heart, and that finding it again, reaffirming for myself that regardless of whom else he might adore, that I am his soul's companion, was a battle that had been waged and won and nothing could shake me from my vigilant post again? She would have to read about it.

"I know you do. And he loves you." I am at peace with that knowledge. "Terry never loved any but you really. He just had no one else to turn to. It was never romantic love for us. Simply two friends who needed something to cling to. Can I ask you what sets Max down from Terry for you?"

"Nothing sets him down. He just isn't Terry, that's all. How to explain it?"

I nodded. "Well enough. Sometimes you cannot."

"But they are alike. I guess that is where it stems from."

"Yes, very much so. You are probably very right."

"Except Terry is gentler. Underneath he is more fragile." Sheepishly, she stopped. "Maybe that sounds a stupid thing to say? I mean, he's so tough and all."

"No, it's not. Maximus lacks ego. Ego masks fragility. Terry's good at his job. That's what the toughness comes from. He's not good at relationships. I know, because I am something the same way." Which is why, even though I adore Maximus and will always return to the circle of his arms and the joy of his love, I might forever wander away from him for periods of time.

"He is really trying. He's opening up with me now...it's so good...I mean we still fight a lot but it's kind of sexy, you know what I mean?"

"Yes, I do." I wonder if she is aware that talking about Terry makes her tremble?

"So you and me," she wrapped up, "we're cool now?"

"Yes."

She eyed me warily and set the items she had selected to put on my face on the mattress next to me. "As easy as that?"

"What else should I say?"

"I thought you would rip my head off."

"Oh please. Don't buy into Terry's fantasies. This is a man who likes mud wrestling, of all things."

"Yeah, he's got a very active fantasy life," she giggled. "You wouldn't think it when you speak to him first. He always sounds so cool." Do I gush about Maximus like that? Someone tell me, please? But the dam was open and the flood of her thoughts could not be stopped. I really did not mind. It was good to hear. And the winds of the hurricane have no direction... "Bou...after the cruise, when things are quiet...I want to ask to see Max again. We do call each other sometimes."

"Fine." She started moving bits of hair away from my face and looked down into my eyes.

"Just so that you know."

"He has already told me. Just ask."

"I'm glad you understand," she whispered.

Changing the subject, I glanced askance over the jar in her hand. "What is that stuff?" It looked like gold dust.

Uma does not let me change the subject as quickly as I would like either. "If you want to see Terry, you know how he feels. This stuff?"

"I do know. We will always be friends." Though I doubted we would see each other quite as quickly as Maximus and Uma would be together, again.

"I told you I was going to use body shimmer on you. The lights will pick it up at night. You will sparkle."

"Interesting."

"Let's face it, there's more flesh than dress." We both looked at it, and my hand reached for the knotwork clasps to run my fingers over them. Uma had been right, they were a reminder of another day, another lifetime. An intricate sense of art and symbolism. I smiled. That Boudicca will always be who I am. But a new Bou was emerging, intent on living as a modern woman and experiencing what that offers.

"Expect maximum drool from the others," she was saying as though she read my thoughts. "They'll all try to muscle in."

"Good luck," was all the answer I had for that. There was only one man whose interest I planned on getting that night.

"You might even turn the Budster on. He likes a bit of flesh. And this is a lot of flesh." I was not going to rise to that bait.

"I don't think he's interested."

"He's a man. His dick doesn't always respond to his brain."

"We're just getting used to the idea of friendship, Uma. Now Hando... but he has to wait as well."

"Be careful- he might just rip it off and have at you in his caveman fashion."

"No, he won't. He won't challenge Maximus." Although a delicious vision was forming in my twisted brain.

"But he'll be watching. You know that look."

"That's quite all right. He'll have his turn. But this is for Maximus only. I will never wear it for another." She nodded understanding.

"Okay...let's see. Underwear? What can you get away with?"

"None."

"Right. Let's get you into it then." Slipping it over my head, I tugged and pushed at the material, which seemed a bit more difficult than the first time I had tried it.

Voicing my thoughts out loud in a grunt, as Uma pulled it taught into place, I confided, "I don't remember it fitting this close, the first time I tried it on."

"You have put weight on. Muscle anyway. You look really toned."

"Max and I were busy on another project besides finding our way back to each other and having sex. You wicked thing. Quit laughing."

"Another project? You are too much. I would have had one thought on my mind only."

"Yes. Something that will have special meaning for us, before ever we left our world for this." 

"Sit down while I do something with your hair," she interjected. "I think it should be up, with just a few messy bits down." I did as I was told but went on with my story.

"We had things to work out before we started consummating everything." She listened quietly while I explained Maximus' and my relationship and inserted comments during my pauses.

"Show off your neck- seeing as the rest of you is on show."

"What dress?" I crowed, parroting Jeff's comment of earlier.

"Quite. Like the emperor's new clothes. You spend a fortune and walk about starkers."

"Well, I have to have something to show for all that money. Maybe the blissfully silly grin on my husband's face tomorrow morning will be all that is necessary to prove it was the right purchase."

"What about jewelry?"

"Minimal, please. Earrings, maybe. I will wear a couple of my rings."

"Just draw attention to your neck. You have a beautiful one."

"Thank you. Max says that sometimes. You know, you are very fast at this. Why does it take you so long when it's yourself?"

"It's harder to do yourself, as you know. And I can never decide what I want to wear. Drives Terry nuts. And then he never notices."

"You should have bought this dress. He'd take note. Hardly anything to note."

"Color doesn't suit me. But he'd take note of the flesh."

"Precisely the point, isn't it? There was a pretty blue one."

She turned me to the mirror so I could see what she had done with my locks. It had not been fixed in the upswept coils she had made of them in many a year. Whispers of the past.

"Well, what do you think of it?" she tapped me impatiently.

"It's lovely. Like the Greek fashions. Almost like a queen, Uma. Who'd have though it?" I started to rise but she pushed me back down.

"Wait! You are not getting away without makeup. And your nails..." Was that a shudder?

Damn. "Yes the hands don't look good. But they have purpose.  I will never hate them again."

"Good for you. So you are all worked out with Max, then? These are not great, but I can still tart them up."

"It might not ever be completely fixed, but we have a new understanding. I know he will always be my peace. He is happy in his life. Knows what he wants. I am realizing that I am relatively young in this time, where in my own I was already an elder. So I want to go run and try things. Not life choices, just adventure. And when I tire of playing about, come home to the steady love of my man. Do you understand?"

"Of course I do." A withering look drifted down to me from on high. "Without Terry to come home to, I couldn't play this game. I think he feels like that too."

"I know Max does."

"Who would have imagined this a year ago?"

"It is strange. I have always known though, even in the darkest hours, that Max is the only one that will ever be my true heart's mate. But I didn't realize that I had other options and that I could still have the world."

"And I was the opposite. I didn't know I could ever find one man who could be all men for me."

"It is a precious thing, that. And when you find it, it can't be treated lightly. I forgot that somewhere along the way. I forgot a lot of things that I used to know."

"Well- I am just discovering them, and it feels like I have a wonderful road ahead," she admitted quietly.

"You do."

Shaking herself of the solemnity, she grinned. "As long as he puts up with me. He must be mental. Is that the answer?"

"No, he knew a good thing when he saw it. He was scared, Uma, that's all. That tells me that it was right."

"I don't think I'll ever quite believe my luck."

"Not luck. I don't care what you say. There are no accidents. Just occurrences for which there is no explanation readily available."

"I'm hanging onto this occurrence. Whatever prompted it." She nodded in sharp affirmation of her pledge. She opened the first makeup container. "On to more important things here. Just a bit?"

"A little. No need to make me look like a harlot completely. Just enough to enhance."

"You saying I look like a harlot, queenie?" 

"No. Just saying I don't want to look like one. I'm so pale, more than a tiny bit looks garish. And I've already done the harlot thing anyway." She has the artist's touch. A tiny amount of shadow and mascara, a touch of gloss, and I will admit to a few moments of pride in my facial features. My stomach was in knots as I tried to guess at Maximus' reaction. Half an hour more...

"You know, Uma, despite your love for Max and his for you- I'm sorry, but you will have to just live with the fact that I am not letting go, either."

"I don't want you to...why would I want a man with a broken heart?

"It wouldn't be only his heart broken, if you smoke my meaning." Arching an eyebrow, I fixed her in my gaze. She smoked it and laughed.

Shoes. I hate them. "I'm tempted to go barefoot," I announced.

"Wear an ankle bracelet. I have this silver Indian one. Men always like to take it off." Laughing at a passing thought, I gratefully accepted the trinket from her. It was indeed a fine piece.

"Thank you! I'll give it back in the morning."

"Whenever. Keep it if it works." Her fingers closed around mine, a brief touch full of many meanings. Friendship. Understanding. That powerful love we seem to have in our little world that rises above our troubles, helps us see them through and keeps us together.

"I couldn't." She waved off my protest and glowered at me. So I shut up. "You'll know it, if it does work," I promised.

"I think I might need earplugs. Your room is near ours. That's if he makes it to the room."

"You won't hear us over yourselves." I had heard shrieking from Uma and Terry's room at all hours of the night since we left America.

"What were you laughing about?"

"I was just thinking on how women used to come to me to make love charms for them. I never had the heart to tell them they didn't really work."

"What does?"

"It's all in the effort you put forth to show a man you want him without them." I smiled modestly.

"I know that...I spend half my life working on the effort. But underneath it is other things that count. And once they've seen you first thing in the morning and still reach for you, well...puts things in perspective really, doesn't it?"

"Maximus doesn't require much. But I wanted to make this extra special anyway."

"He deserves it."

"Yes, he does. He truly is the best husband. And it is a new night, new beginnings." I told Jack once that the measure of a man is what he will do to hold on to that which matters most to him. There is no man that measures up to my Spaniard.

"He will be so happy and proud. The best looking woman in the place on his arm."

"No. Just the one he thinks is best looking. Because the others will beg to differ." Terry would. 

"Maybe not tonight, kid. Voila! Beat that!" We both examined me in the mirror. 

"Are you off to try, then? I couldn't beat that. That's why I asked you." I leaned into her affectionately.

"Only got an hour," she lamented. "I'll have to do a rush job. And fight him off."

"I'm sure you will still come out smashing. Besides, pressure works wonders."

A snort. "Don't expect miracles."

"I don't. Just put your skills to the test as if you were going to do battle with time. Let's see what kind of warrior you are." Uma pulled her tongue out at me and I laughed.

"Don't you worry. I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"That's my girl. Women always do."

"And frankly," she was rambling again, "I think I could go in an old pair of jeans and a shirt and it wouldn't put him off. Maybe I should?"

"That would be interesting to watch. But I doubt he would notice. Make it one of his shirts, though. I suggest the Calvin Klein. It's the white one. Tailored. Should be second over from the left in his closet."

"What's the difference? He'll just throw me over his shoulder and have his way with me."

"Definitely the Calvin, then."

"You're as anal as he is, do you know? I mess things up in his closet to make him mental. Needs to be packed in five minutes. Says time is crucial- sometimes he has to leave immediately, and then sits around for three months while they talk. Like five minutes more will matter?"

"I refuse to answer that on the grounds I may incriminate myself. Do not accept an invitation to visit the farm, should Max extend one. I like my house in the order I have it."

"My job in life is to frustrate his desire for control."

"It's good for him."

"He needs it," she agreed.

"He missed it too. Gives him something new to wonder about. I don't think you will ever stop surprising him. Do you need help getting ready?"

"From you?"

"I'm not a complete incompetent."

"No. You don't move. Don't you dare smudge your nails."

"Max won't notice, except when I rake them down his back."

"Then get yourself in the right frame of mind. I'll see you at dinner."

"Hurry, Uma! Show them all you can do it in under an hour! I'd offer to keep Terry busy, but."

The door was open, and she glanced back one last time, with an evil grin. "Piece of cake, love. I only dawdle to wind them up, you know." Then she slammed the door.

A few moments went by, and the most chilling scream sounded from the direction of Uma's room.  "What the fuck do you mean, none of my clothes are here!"  I almost felt sorry for Killick.  And not a bit for whomever had put him up to removing Uma's belongings. 

I swear I had nothing to do with it. But you do have to wonder, do you not, why I suggested the Calvin Klein? Sighing and smiling like a mother whose children are up to naughty things, but you just cannot be angry with them for it, I went to meet Maximus in the bar as agreed upon. Nobody saw me as I slipped out of my room and down the deserted east side of the ship.

It was one of the strangest conversations I have ever had, I think. But at the same time, I will catalog it as one of the most important and precious. Nothing is usual with Uma. Nothing should be. That is the magic of being her friend. And it is a blessed thing to again, be her friend.