Notes: Gabrielle is from Xena Warrior Princess, which is owned by Renaissance Studios and StudiosUSA. All other characters are of my own creation. Please send comments to dante0220@yahoo.com.

Preface [Queen's hut-Amazon Village 83AD]

Gabrielle, Bard-Queen of the Amazons, writes....

After our friends' marriage, they wanted to enjoy their lives together. Unfortunately, reality-in the form of their conference trip and the intrusion of an unwelcome visitor-hampered these efforts. But, since we are talking about David and Angela here...the reader can already guess that they worked around the obstacles in their path.

Chapter 1 [Day after the Wedding]

After their breakfast with Molori, Grimwilkin, and Ferali, Dave and Angie looked around their bedchamber, making sure that they had everything. When they were certain of having their possessions, she folded and packed them into a garment bag.

Let's see, she thought. I returned the jewels to Grimwilkin. He'll get them to the Faerie Empress. We have everything as well. She shut the door to find Dave waiting along with the elderly wizard. "We're set."

"Great. Grimwilkin, I wanted to thank you again for your assistance as well as that of Meroli and the Faerie Empress in making this all come true for us," the librarian expressed.

"It's no trouble at all, David. You two deserve all of the happiness in any world. There will come a time when you may need to stand by our side again. We know you'll be ready."

"And I'll figure out a way to be there with him," she asserted, linking arms with her husband.

She's so much like Elsin was on that first adventure. For some reason, I have a feeling she will be a big factor in the future of our worlds. "Very well then, pleasant journeys, you two. Remember us well," he concluded, waving his staff and teleporting them away.

For a long minute, he stood and mused about the former guests. They'll have a lot to say about things. A lot indeed. With that, he shuffled off down the hall.

****

When the mists dissipated, Dave and Angie found themselves in the Wilcox house. The lights were dimmed and nobody was there to greet them. After doing a bit of hunting, they found a note:

David and Angie:

Sorry we missed you two. I went out with the Blackwells. Have fun on your honeymoon. By the way, that was some event yesterday. Thank you for sharing that with us.

Love,

Aunt Paula.

"Well, I guess we don't have to wait for my parents," Angie concluded.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Nah. Besides, we have our flight to catch later," she reminded him.

He nodded. We're barely married and she's already reminding me of things. Oh well. "Let's get Bessie warmed up and we can get going."

She smirked. I'm going to have to get used to him calling the car that. Aw, leave it be, Angie.

Turning the key in the ignition, Dave pulled out, heading for the next stop.

****

[Cybelle's House]

Meanwhile, Lydia sat in Cybelle's kitchen enjoying a cup of coffee with the latter. "This is a cozy house," she complimented.

"Thank you. We like it. It's a good place to start a marriage, we thought," her hostess accepted.

"Speaking of starting marriages," Mike, her husband, wondered. "How did our couple make out, I wonder?"

The priestess chuckled to herself. If what I was feeling was correct, they did quite well. "I'm sure they'll have a few stories to tell." She heard a car pull up. "Speaking of which..."

Her husband glanced out the window and winced. "Uh, honey, it's your father."

Oh great. This is just what we need today, the priestess mused to herself.

Gathering her purse, Lydia told them, "If it's okay, I'll wait for them outside."

However, before she could do so, Stuart Dubois clomped up the stairs and pounded on the door.

Cybelle ground her teeth as she opened the door. One day, Milady, you'll allow me to teach him some respect. "Hi, Dad. What's new?"

Stuart bellowed, "'What's new?' My son gets married and I'm not invited! To make this worse, he gets married to some snippy..."

His daughter shook her head. "Wait a minute! Nobody wanted any trouble from you or him yesterday! Secondly, Angie's a country girl from New York. She's really good for him. Don't you dare ruin their honeymoon!"

He growled in rage, backhanding her hard. "Don't you...tell me what to say!"

"Stop it, Stuart!" Mike demanded.

"Shut up, Boy! We'll just wait here for them to show up. Judging from the prof here, they'll be around."

"I'm leaving," Lydia stated, getting up.

"No. You aren't," the enraged man spat, pushing her back into her seat.

****

At that moment, Dave pulled the Subaru into the front yard, failing to see his father's car.

"I'll tell Lydia we're here and say hi to Cybelle," she told him.

"You do that," he replied. Still, he felt uneasy for some reason. What now?

Deep in his head, he heard the Child growl, Ah smell somethin' rotten!

He watched his wife walk into the house and kept a close eye on that door just in case.

****

Angie walked into the house. "Cybelle?"

"Angie, umm, I'll send Lydia out in just a minute!" her sister-in-law advised.

"That's okay," she told the other woman, walking into the kitchen where she found the trio at the table with a strange man with brooding eyes staring angrily at her. Who is this?

"You're the girl, huh? It figures that those interfering Alvarezes would..." Stuart ranted.

Angie winced. "What?"

"Yeah, she had to cut me off from Dave through you. Nice ring. Service Merchandise?"

Cybelle tapped the counter angrily. Oh, I'm going to kill Randy for this. Believe me...

Angie glanced at her ring and watched it sparkle beautifully in the sunlight. Then she responded, "No, this isn't Service Merchandise! We pick our rings out and had them especially made for us if you must know. Also, Karen brought us together and it was for the best! Thirdly, who are you to talk to me like this?"

"I'm your father-in-law! Don't talk to me like that!" he yelled right in her face.

She quaked, recalling the stories that she had heard about him. This is the man who tormented Dave as a kid. "Why did you have to start this today? All I want is to enjoy my honeymoon!" she cried.

"Stuart, enough," Mike urged.

"No. Not yet," the enraged father stated.

"I'll get you to stop," Lydia asserted, picking up her purse and rushing out the door.

"Go on! I can wait!" Stuart challenged. "Tell him to do his worst!"

Cybelle shook her head, feeling the tension already building outside in her brother. Oh, he'll do his worst all right. Trust me.

****

Dave sat impatiently in the car waiting for Angie and Lydia to come out. Five minutes and then, ten minutes more had passed without word one way or the other. I hope everything's okay.

Ah still say somethin's up, the Child asserted.

Then the two personas felt waves of panic emanating from the house. "Crap!"

That's it! the Dark One snarled. We go in!

Dave climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut. Rushing toward the door, he glanced around the other side of the house and realized his worst nightmare-the station wagon was there. His father was inside. "Shit! Angie's in there with him!" He gripped the rail tightly, feeling the rage coalescing inside of him.

"Dave!" Lydia called, running toward him in a panic.

"W...Wha?" he growled, his eyes staring at her intensely. "Has he touched...her?"

She took a step back. No. If he loses it now... "Dave, you need to calm down."

"First, Ah...I'll get her out then we'll talk about control!" he snapped. "Well?"

She looked away.

"He did!" he realized, the anger boiling toward the surface as he rushed into the house.

Dave, please don't do anything stupid, Lydia hoped.

****

Cybelle sensed her brother's presence as soon as he entered the house. He's on the brink, all right.

"Cybbie, where are ya?" he called, the savage undertone clearly evident in his voice.

Angie trembled, recalling that tone from Arizona as well as the Pit. He's changing. Why did this have to happen today? Why? She shook fiercely.

"Well, nothing changes....He still likes 'em soft," Stuart chided.

Just then, Dave stepped into the room. His eyes flittered from point to point, taking in the looks from the others.

"Cute flower ya got here," his father taunted.

"Get away from her!" he bellowed, stepping between him and his wife.

"Dave, I..." Angie sobbed and hugged him tightly.

"Shh, it's okay! Go outside now," he soothed, trying to restrain himself.

"Dave, don't!" she protested.

"Jus'...go!" he snarled.

She shook her head. "I'm staying." She did back away a bit.

"Well, the girl's got some backbone, after all," the father asserted.

"Leave 'er outta this!" the librarian slurred.

"Where did your girlfriend dig her up from? Randy said that she dumped the reject there on you," he cracked.

Dave fumed. "Leave Karen out of this!"

"And are you still fantasizing because she chickened out last night?"

Mike cleared his throat, sensing that the argument was about to cross the line of no return. "Stuart, that wasn't called for."

"As if that's any of his business!" Angie asserted.

"You, shut up! Stupid...."

Dave bristled, standing at the edge of his control. "THAT is none of your business. And you won't talk to her like that again! Apologize now!"

"You no good!" Stuart roared and backhanded his son hard across the face, knocking him into the table. "I'll teach you!"

At that moment, the last bit of control slipped away from Dave. He felt himself slide.

"Come on, get up!" Stuart challenged.

The Child stood slowly-his eye closed and the leer on his face. "Ya'll shoulda quit while ya'll were 'head!"

Stuart rushed forward and took a swing at him.

The Child grinned and caught the fist, twisting his arm behind him. "Gotcha! Mah turn!" Giving the elder a push, he slammed him into the counter hard...several times. "Now, if ya'll ever touch the Little Woman or Big Brother 'gain, Ah'll really lean into ya! Now, ya got somethin' to say, don't ya?"

Stuart growled, "Go...jump..."

"Dave, stop!" Angie protested.

"Ah didn't hear ya." The Child twisted the arm harder.

"So...rry," the attacker spat without meaning it.

The Dark One let go of him. "Stay 'way from us!" Glaring at Cybelle, he stated, "Take care of 'im!"

The priestess shook her head. Someday, he'll kill the old man.

"'Mon!" he urged, taking Angie by the hand. "Ah need some air."

"Okay," she agreed nervously. Remember, he won't hurt you. "Let's go."

Stuart staggered to his feet and obviously favored his arm. "The...next...time...."

"Git this straight! If ya'll come near us 'gain, Ah won't be so nice!" the Child growled savagely before leaving and nearly dragging Angie behind him.

****

Lydia stood by the car waiting. I hope they avoided trouble. Then she saw him rushing toward her in a dead rage with Angie right behind him.

"Dave, stop! What is this?" the doctor demanded.

"Not Big Brother. Lots of crap 'tween me and Dad in there. We never agreed on anythin'. He finally beat on us so bad...put us in the hosp'tal. Don't bother Big Bro with this, all right?"

The two women looked at each other. The rampaging persona had just injured his father and caused a ruckus.

Angie looked into his eyes and saw the pain there. My Lord. How could anyone? She put her hands over her mouth. "Can I talk to him please? I just want to reassure him."

For a minute, the Child snarled as he considered this proposition. Finally, he nodded and forced the change back.

"Angie," Dave whispered. "What happened?"

"You changed again," she explained, hugging him tightly. "Now I can see why you were so nervous about meeting my folks. Cripe. You know, Dave. I have to applaud you. Despite that jerk in there, you turned out all right. Just remember your friends are here for you. I'm here and together, nothing can beat us. You're my big Sweetie and I love you for it." She kissed him. "Are you up to driving?"

"Yeah. It'll do me good."

"Are you sure?" Lydia wondered, still nervous about his latest mood change.

"Positive," he assured her, climbing in. "Let's split."

With that, they drove away from Amherst on Route 32 bound for the Mass Pike.

****

After dropping Lydia off at her parents' house, the newlyweds arrived in Scituate. Dave wanted to throw the last items in the house together before they left for Istanbul.

As they pulled in, Caroline cheered, "Hi, guys! How was your night?"

Angie forced a smile. "It was great. Thanks."

"Then why the moodiness?"

"When we picked Lydia up at Cybelle's, we had a run in...." he started and quaked.

"Oh no. I've seen that look before. Your father?"

Angie's eyes teared up. "Uh huh."

Mr. Alvarez stuck his head out the door. "What happened?"

"I went into Cybelle's house to get Lydia and to talk. His father was there and started harassing me as well as insulting Karen. I tried to get away but he grabbed me...."

Dave rubbed her shoulder. "I ran in there and got between them, but he threw me into the table. From there, it went black."

I'll bet it did, Mr. Alvarez mused, recalling the Smallville incident from years before where the younger man had first received from and then, dished out beatings on his father.

"Dave...I....you flipped again and went after him. At first, I thought you were going to kill him, but you...stopped. You pulled me out of there. Thank you," she continued. "Whatever it is, we can work through it."

Mrs. Alvarez joined them. "Honestly, can't that man get it through his head? He's upset everyone for nothing!"

"He excels at that," Rick replied as he walked up the sidewalk. "Hey, guys, how was last night?"

Angie blushed. "Awesome...well, Dave was anyway."

"Oh, you weren't too bad yourself, Princess," he slurred and kissed her. "And as for what my father said, forget it. I'm sick of people telling me that you're a consolation prize. You're the greatest wife a man could want and let nobody say otherwise!"

She smiled and allowed a happy tear to trickle down her cheek. "I appreciate that, Dave. Thanks."

"Meantime, I need to get a few things together for the trip," the librarian pointed out. "Did our paperwork come through?"

"'Super Agent Steve' said that he pushed them through and gave you a few extra perks. Lydia called after you dropped her off. She'll meet you at the Main Archives on Wednesday afternoon," Caroline added.

"Well then," Dave indicated, finishing off the last box and shoving it into the corner. "I guess it's time to go."

"Love to, 'sir'. That is how Karen would have said it."

He shook his head. "Say it your own way."

Her look let him know she wanted to get it right.

"Okay," he relented. "It would have probably been 'my Dear Sir' or something like that. Geez. It's been five years for Pete's sake!"

She grinned and rubbed his shoulder. "Gotcha! Meantime, I've got my conference in Cairo a week from tomorrow and you speak a day later."

"Come on. Let's go!" he indicated, waving to the others as he and Angie climbed into the Subaru and took off for Logan Airport.

Chapter 3

Once at the airport, they walked up to the TWA counter and talked with the agent. "Hi. I'm David Dubois and this is my wife, Angela. We have some tickets being held for us."

The young woman looked at her computer screen and agreed, "Yes. That is correct. Might I see your passports please?"

The newlyweds handed her their ids. After checking them, the agent continued, "Yes. You have some special merchandise to come with you, I see?" She patted an oddly shaped bag. "An FBI agent cleared this an hour ago. I also have a surprise for you. You've been bumped up to first class for the entire trip. This wouldn't happen to be your honeymoon, would it?"

"Actually, it's kind of half and half," Angie indicated. "We have work over there too."

The agent nodded and said, "All right. I just need you to follow me through here." She led them through the metal detector and up to Customs. "Thank you."

****

About ten minutes later, they left the area having answered every question and finally being cleared by the security.

"I'm glad that's over," she sighed.

"Yeah. Tell me about it," he agreed. "Let's get a soda. We still have some time."

"All right," she agreed as they headed for a McDonald's stand.

****

Two hours later, they boarded the plane and reclined in their seats. Unlike in coach, the first class seats allowed them to lounge comfortably and enjoy the flight instead of feeling herded like cattle.

"This is great! I can't believe we got these seats! I know, though, that this is the only way you'd fly across the ocean with me," she jabbed.

"Now, now, even if we flew on the wing, it would still be first class," he complimented.

Angie blushed. "Honestly, you're bad! Imagine what my hair would look like?"

He smirked. "About the way it did that morning in the Alvarezes' kitchen." He mussed his hair and squinted, "Uhh...where's the coffee?"

She grinned and elbowed him. "You creep! What would I do when I get there?"

"It would recover."

"Yeah-'it would recover'. That's a typical male thing to say," she needled back. "I had to marry a comedian, didn't I?"

"Yeah. But he loves you," he pointed out, kissing her. "Not bad for the 'musty medievalist', eh?"

"Touché," she admitted, drawing an imaginary chalk mark in the air with her finger. "Touché."

Then the flight attendant came by and asked, "Will you folks be having the chicken or steak tonight?"

Angie smiled. "Steak please."

"Same here. And can we have some pink zinfindel?" he added.

She nodded and walked away. A few minutes later, she returned with two big sirloin cuts accompanied by fairly generous baked potatoes, two sides of peas, and a glass of wine apiece. "Here you are! By the way, you wouldn't happen to be honeymooners, would you?"

"Uh huh," he replied. "We were just married and already headed off on business."

"After we get a few days to ourselves, Dear," Angie corrected him.

He smiled and shrugged as the stewardess departed. Taking a bite, he admired the quality, "Mmm...this is good for well-done meat."

"I know," she agreed. "Still this is fabulous food for a flight." She poured her glass and held her glass up. "May I...make the toast?"

"Any time," he replied, doing the same.

"To us. May we have many great years together," she toasted.

"Hear, hear," he agreed, clinking glasses with hers.

"This is good wine. You do have great taste I have to say," she complimented.

"Sure. I married you, didn't I?" he chuckled.

She blushed and kissed him. "You did...and that shows good taste."

****

They changed planes in London and took off for the eastern Mediterranean that evening. For several hours, they enjoyed the views of the clouds against the dark sky or just made pleasant conversation.

The flight attendant came up to them and asked, "Excuse me, Dr. Dubois?"

"Yes?" they both chorused.

"Oh, that's right. I was wondering about your husband, Ma 'am. My apologies. I wanted to let you know that the captain was going to be making an announcement. We would like your assistance if that's okay."

What the? Okay, Petersen, what did you do now?

At that moment, the loudspeaker came on. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! This is Captain Bamberg speaking. We're flying over Italy now and our route takes us over the Balkan Peninsula and several historical sites as we head to Istanbul. I just found out that we have an expert onboard in those areas: Dr. David Dubois. First, congratulations to you and your wife on your recent marriage. Secondly, would you like to give us a tour of sorts?"

"Steve, I'm going to kill you," he muttered embarrassedly.

"Dave, go ahead. I'll enjoy the show," Angie assured him.

"Okay," he agreed, following the flight attendant to the front of the cabin. There, he studied the flight plan and the cities in question. "This will work."

She handed him the microphone.

"Hi, everyone, this is Dave Dubois speaking. I hope everyone's enjoying the flight. Now, let's see if you look out the window, you'll see the Danube below us. Let me tell you something about the castles coming up on the left and the right sides...." He started.

As they progressed farther along, he spoke about Budapest, Sofia, and finally Istanbul itself. Then, he concluded, "We're getting close to landing. Thank you all. You've been a great audience especially the brunette in 4B."

The other passengers applauded him as he returned to his seat.

"So, what did you think?" he asked.

"You're too much," she replied saucily, kissing his cheek.

Chapter 4 [Istanbul]

Since jet lag had them both fairly wiped out, Dave and Angie caught a taxi directly over to the Hotel Topkapi, which Lydia had recommended to them. Walking up to the desk, they saw a tall swarthy Turkish gentleman dressed in a brown suit sitting there with some paperwork. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"I hope so. We have a room for David and Angela Dubois," Dave told him.

"Let's see," the man said as he flipped through the notes in his file. "Ah yes! You're in Room 255! Very nice! I'll call the bellboy."

"That's not necessary. I can get the bags," Dave reassured him. "Can you give the keys to my wife please? Thank you."

The man nodded and expressed, "Enjoy your stay."

"We will," she replied pleasantly.

After riding in the old elevator, they reached the second floor. There, they got out and found their room.

Upon entering, they discovered that the place was medium sized with a nice table and chairs. A queen-sized bed sat next to that topped by a comforter.

"That bed looks good right now," he yawned, locking the door behind them.

"Ditto," she agreed, kicking her shoes off.

Taking their coats off, they collapsed onto the bed and slept for a while thereafter.

****

A knock at the door jarred them from their slumber.

She stirred first. "Who?" she muttered and stumbled out of bed. Shuffling up to the door, she looked through the slot to see the desk manager standing there with a food tray. Cracking the door open, she asked, "Yes?"

He smiled. "It's past two in the afternoon, Madam. Both you and your husband have slept since last night and I figured you would want something to eat, no?"

Her eyes bugged out. We slept almost 24 hours! How? "Thank you. Where do I sign for it?"

"No charge. It comes with the room. If you would like anything else, please call downstairs and ask for Mehmet," he concluded and walked away.

She walked back in the room and closed the door. Interesting. We get room service too.

"Breakfast?" Dave asked.

"Try lunch. It's after 2 PM, Silly," she teased, setting the tray on the table and removing the cover. The plate held lamb, rice pilaf, and fruit off to the side.

"Mmm..." he accepted, taking a fork and sampling a piece of the lamb. "Not bad."

"What do you want to do this afternoon?" she asked, digging into her part.

"I figured we could do the Grand Bazaar," he replied, getting up and walking over to his suitcase. There, he rummaged through it. "Now, where did I? Ah, here we go!" He flipped her a pouch with two long straps coming from it."

"What's this?" she asked.

"It's a money belt. Put your jewels and money in it, Princess," he advised. "If you keep it under your clothes, pickpockets won't be tempted."

"You sound like that guy on TV," she teased.

"I'm a fan of his," he acknowledged, slipping his wallet into his pouch. "Okay, let's get our showers and head to the bazaar."

"Right," she agreed.

****

An hour later, they strolled through the rows of stands featuring everything that one could imagine--food, carpets, robes, and nearly everything else.

"Wow! This is incredible!" she exclaimed.

"This is the crossroads of the world, Angie. Everything that you can imagine comes through here."

"Uh huh. I still think it's awesome. Let's find something nice," she bantered.

He shrugged and followed her lead.

****

Seeing Tokapi Palace provided Angie with a sense of history. On the tour, she admired the architecture and the little details surrounding the former seat of Ottoman power. Even the harem-as much as the concept of the place revolted her-still gave her some pleasure. This is Dave's world. I can see why he likes it so much.

From there, they headed for the Bosporus, reaching the waterway at sunset.

"Unbelievable!" she admired, snapping the picture with her camera. She gazed at the ramparts on both sides of the water.

"Not bad for the continental divide, huh?" he asked.

"That's Asia?" she inquired, pointing across the water. She snickered, "This is what you're referring to with the hallway between Lydia's and Greg's offices in Social Sciences?"

He nodded, recalling how the Byzantine and Turkish historians were located across the hall from each other. "Exactly."

"Silly goose. You would say something like that!" she cracked. Still, she had to admit that she could see where he would get that reference. "Hold still." She kissed him.

As they were doing this, he saw a flash go off. What the? Looking around, he quickly found the source and broke out laughing.

"What?"

"Look behind you," he pointed out.

She turned to see Lydia sitting on the stone bench waving at them. "Hi, guys! Nice shot. We'll have to see what it looks like when we get back."

"Get in early, did we?" Angie inquired.

"Yes. Well, I wanted to see more of the city and check in on you both. How was the flight?"

He smirked. "Great. First class all the way."

"And Professor Dubois delivered his lecture too," Angie jabbed.

"What?" his former professor wondered. Now what?

"Oh, the captain asked me to do color commentary on the cities we flew over. So you know me...." He admitted.

"Oh geez, those poor passengers," Lydia kidded him. "Did he bore you all too much?"

"Of course not. He made like that TV guy and gave us the abbreviated tour. I can't wait for the full version in Cairo," the oncologist informed her.

"I do think that Steve Petersen had something to do with that," he guessed. "Besides it was a good way to blow steam off after The Encounter."

"Forget about that, will you?" Angie requested. "This is our honeymoon."

"Right. Sorry," he conceded.

That's easy for her to say, the Child growled in his head.

Cool it. She's right.

She studied him cautiously. When he goes quiet like that, he's having one of those running conversations/arguments with You Know Who. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he indicated. "Just a little tired is all."

"Let's head back to the hotel then," his wife agreed. "Lydia, where do you want to meet us tomorrow?"

"In front of the Aya Sofia. You can't miss it," Lydia assured them.

"Gotcha," he indicated as he and Angie left for their room.

I hope he's okay, Lydia told herself. The area has enough hotheads in it without one more lurking around.

****

The trio met up in front of the church/mosque/museum early the next morning. As advertised, the building was magnificent both inside and out. They spent time wandering about the echoing space, admiring the structural engineering of the domes and the recently uncovered mosaics.

"When Tony said this place was heavenly, he wasn't kidding! Wow!" he exclaimed, his jaw dropping.

"Oh brother!" Lydia teased. "Finally, Dave's out of his element historically."

"Will wonders never cease?" Angie added a playful jab of her own.

"Yok it up," he retorted. "This place is incredible. Pictures don't do it justice, trust me."

"I know what you mean," Angie agreed, recalling the slides from her Art History class.

"Those lessons by Tony I heard included classical Ottoman, right?" Lydia inquired.

"They did," he told her.

"That's what I thought. That's why you're coming to the archives with me tomorrow for a bit," his former professor mentioned.

"Meantime, I'll be meeting with a Dr. Haddad over at American University. Try not to get into too much trouble over there, all right?" she added with a sarcastic twist at the end.

"I won't," he chuckled. "Back to today, how are you doing with this stuff?"

"I can see why you enjoy this so much, Dave. Thank you for sharing with me," Angie expressed, kissing his cheek.

He smiled and patted her hand.

As they did so, their colleague shook her head and admired the scene. Whatever you're doing, Angie. Keep it up. This is the most relaxed I've seen Dave in a long time.

****

Early on the following morning, Dave and Lydia dropped Angie off at the university and headed for the archives down the street. After a "quick" security check, the staff set them up at a table and brought out a 1522 tahrir (land survey).

As he looked over the document, his memories-and those that the Child lent him-sprung to life. "It's just as you said."

She nodded yet she couldn't believe he was actually reading the text. He's plowing right through it. Amazing. She pointed out the elements of the text to him as they collaborated on it.

Finally about 2:45, the guard came and indicated that the facility was preparing to close.

After collecting their things, the duo departed.

"Thanks for letting me do that with you," he expressed.

"No problem. I enjoyed watching you reading it and you gave me some further insights into the material. As your teacher, I'm very proud," she replied.

"Thank Tony," he told her, waving off the credit as they approached the university gate and found Angie waiting there. "Hey, how did everything go?"

"Great," she indicated as they kissed. "And how were the archives?"

"Fantastic. I discovered that Dave's been holding back a knowledge of classical Ottoman Turkish from me," Lydia noted.

"I really enjoyed seeing your lectures come to life, Lydia," he complimented.

I'm glad you think so, she thought to herself.

"As for Dr. Haddad, Dave, she apologized about not waiting to meet you. She really wants to talk to you. You'll meet her in Cairo. She's really into the sultana," the oncologist pointed out.

"Speaking of which, don't we have a flight tomorrow?" he wondered.

"Yes we do. Back to business, I guess," she sighed.

"Don't worry. You two have all of the time in the world to enjoy the sights there as well," Lydia consoled them. "Meantime, let's get something to eat before it's gets too much later, all right?"

They walked down the street, heading for a café and a great closing discussion about this phase of the trip. Little did they suspect that Cairo would prove just as exciting in its own right.

Chapter 5

[Airport]

The next morning, Lydia stepped out of a taxi along with Angie and Dave. She wanted to make sure that the details surrounding the flight to Egypt were in order. After everything was set, they sat in the terminal for a two-hour wait.

"Are you two ready to knock 'em dead with your stuff?" the professor asked.

"I'll try," Angie sighed and glanced at Dave. "This is still so new to me."

He shook her head and hugged her. "You're the best at what you do, Princess. I wouldn't worry. Look, if they didn't like your stuff, why would they fly you halfway around the world to hear you? My wife, the worrywart genius."

"And what about the extremists and feminists waiting for you, Chief? From what I hear, Shajarat's a tricky topic too," she argued.

Let 'em come. Here, Boys, Ah want me some fun! The Child growled to himself, eagerly awaiting such a confrontation.

I'm keeping us clear of that stuff. Behave.

Yeah right. This is us, right? We'll be right at the heart of it, Bro.

"She's right, Dave. Be careful-both of you," Lydia requested.

At that moment, the flight was announced. "Whoops! There's our flight! Wish us luck!" With that, they boarded the plane.

"Good luck!" she called as they disappeared into the jetway. Be careful out there. As she walked away, she felt a foreboding shiver. Why is it that I know there's going to be trouble? Somehow, I just know it.

****

[Cairo]

Three hours later, the newlyweds stepped into the Cairo airport, looking around at all of the people milling around them. Unlike Turkey, this place definitely had a different feel to it-older, more mysterious if that was possible.

"Where do we go?" she asked.

"Baggage claim. We'll have to get our bags and our party will meet us there," he noted. "Let's try this way." Seeing the pictographic signs, he sighed, Thank God for international signs. Still, we'll need to keep an eye out.

Angie pointed out the luggage chute as they came down the stairs and that their luggage was there. "See? I told you everything was all right."

"Yeah, I guess," he agreed tentatively, keeping his guard up.

Don't worry. Ah'm watchin' too.

I know you are. We don't need to incite a war here.

Me? Start a war? Now, why would Ah do that?

Why indeed? Then he noticed "David and Angela Dubois" written on a sign in front of them. "There's our party," he told her. "And remember, keep your eyes open."

"For what?" she asked tensely.

"Remember, this isn't the US anymore. Surprises are everywhere. Be nice but be careful, okay? I just don't want anything to happen to you is all."

"I know," she affirmed. "After what Karen told me what you both went through with Guisanto, I'll be careful.

Within his head, he heard the Child growl at the sound of that name. I'll get him to tell me about that one at some point.

Having said that, they walked toward the group and saw that they were mostly dressed in western-style clothes. One woman was clad in traditional Islamic dress without the veil. "You're from the university?"

A slender white haired man shook his hand. "Yes, Dr. David Dubois, correct? I'm Dr. Mowat. My associates are Dr. Yashima Mutafi and Dr. Carolyn Afolabi from the American University in Beirut. I'm eager to work with you."

Dave smiled and introduced, "This is my wife, Dr. Angela Dubois."

"We meet at last," Yashima told her. "I've read your articles and I can't wait to hear your talk."

"Really? I've seen your pieces too. I did have some questions for you at some point if that's all right?" Angie wondered.

"Absolutely," the Egyptian doctor concurred. "Come. We need to get you to your hotel. We have a car waiting. This way please."

****

The city impressed the visitors with its history and cosmopolitan nature. Wheeling through the streets, they saw much of the medieval remnants of the Ayyubid and Mamluk era neighborhoods. Upon arriving at their hotel, they relaxed for a bit and unwound from the trip.

"We're back in business!" Angie cheered as she hung her formal outfit up in the closet. Now that they were in the room, she had changed into a cotton t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts. "It does feel good to get out of that suit."

"I'll say," he concurred, inspecting his gear. Looking up, he smiled at her warmly.

Her brow arched and she grinned saucily. "I'd look better to you with nothing on at all, right?"

His smile broadened.

"Just keep it to yourself," she teased, kissing him on the forehead. "It's good to see you relaxed again."

Not exactly, but let her think that. "For now," he indicated, testing the bowstring. Then he heard a knock at the door. "Who?"

She walked over and looked through the peephole to see Dr. Mowat standing there. "It's Dr. Mowat."

"Let him in," he agreed.

Angie opened the door and greeted, "Hi, sir. Come in."

"Thank you," he replied. "And how are you both?"

"We're good," she noted.

"What can we do for you, Dr. Mowat?" Dave inquired.

"I just wanted to remind you of how unstable the situation is here," the visitor advised.

"I came prepared," Dave replied firmly, taking the overcoat off to reveal the quiver of shafts strapped to his back over his suit as well as the whip coiled on his belt. "I hope I don't have to use them, but one never knows."

Yeah well. Ah know we'll use 'em, the Child asserted.

"Yes. I'm sure that your wife appreciates your concern. But enough of that, are you prepared for the lecture?" Mowat asked.

"Of course. We'll give the Oxbridge dons something to steam over, I figure," Dave remarked.

"From your reputation, Dr. Dubois, I do not doubt it. You two will be in adjacent buildings," the guest continued.

"Sorry. I wanted to ask if I could go with Angela tomorrow and she could come with me the next day," Dave requested.

"Now, Dave," she argued. "I can take care of myself. If something happens, I call you on the cell phone."

He frowned. "All right," he conceded.

Mowat assured him, "Don't worry. Both complexes are extremely well guarded. You can hear her speak if you would like, however."

"I'd like that. Thanks," he agreed.

"And I am looking forward to listening to your talk as well, Angela. But what does your husband think of your efforts? Many men would not like these studies of yours."

Dave shrugged. "I'm not 'many men'. Believe me, one of the first lessons I learned in historical studies is that many strong men also have strong women as companions. In our case, our diversity is our strength. Angie's research is her driving force just as mine is to me. We're equal partners."

"Amen," she agreed, rubbing his shoulder.

Seeing that it was now 8:00, he excused himself, "It's getting late. I'll see you in the lobby at 9:00 sharp."

"Sure," she agreed.

"Until then, I bid you peace," the guest concluded and let himself out.

After he left, Dave put his weapons away and got ready for bed. As he reclined on the bed, he listened to Angie rehearse her speech until he fell asleep.

Chapter 6

Angie awoke first the next morning and stared at the clock. 5:30 Geez! Well, since I can't get any more sleep, I might as well run through it a few more times. She rolled out of bed and put on her robe.

"Honey?" Dave muttered. "What time is it?"

"5:30. I'm going to go over my speech some more. Go back to sleep, Sweetie." She smiled. "Sorry I woke you."

"Mmm...no problem. The dreams are about you anyway," he retorted sleepily.

"Good, bad or do I want to know?"

A big grin spread across his face as he let out a wicked snicker.

"You jerk! I don't want to know! Geez, gutter mind!" she laughed before going back to rereading her talk.

****

When he finally did wake up, it was 6:45. He heard Angie in the shower and her notes sat on the table. She had left her robe on the chair and her clothes were still hanging in the closet.

About ten minutes later, she hurried out of the bathroom, drying her hair. "Hope I'm not too late," she fussed. "I really need to get Dave up."

Then, he whistled at her.

She grabbed her robe. "Dave! You're awake? You should have told me!"

"Where is it against the law for a man to look at his wife?" he cracked.

"What about my modesty?" she teased.

"What about it?" he retorted humorously only to get a pillow in his face for his troubles.

Having put on her robe, she stood there, shaking her head and grinning ear to ear. "Thanks, Dave."

"For what?"

"For putting me at ease," she informed him, giving him a kiss.

"My pleasure. Now, I need to get cleaned up so we can get out of here on time," he advised her, stealing a kiss from her as he did so.

****

Dr. Mowat greeted them in the lobby a little while later. "Ah! There you are! How was your sleep?"

Seeing them smile and nod, he added, "Well, shall we?"

They got into the car and drove toward the streets toward the conference site.

As they approached it, Dave noticed a heavy throng of protestors outside the gates. "What's going on?"

"Arab nationalists," their driver noted. "They are from a very fundamentalist sect."

"Why?" she asked fearfully. "Why are they bothering us?"

"Shh. It's all right," Dave told her even if he didn't believe it himself. Inside of his head, he heard another noise rising up to meet those outside.

The Child was ready for anything.

"We moved both conferences into the same complex for more security," Mowat noted as the car pulled into the center. "Here you are, Dr. Dubois. Remember your wife's talk is at 1:45."

"I'll be there," he assured the host. Leaning over, he kissed his wife on the cheek. "Be safe. If you need help, just call me."

"Right," she agreed. "Try not to worry about me and do some networking, all right?"

"Okay," he replied, walking into the building yet watching as the car drove out of sight.

****

The morning went quickly as Dave went to several lectures. He raised several important points, confirmed other ones and met some interesting people. Finally about 1:00, he ran into Dr. Mowat in the lobby of the convention center.

"Did you have a good morning?" he asked.

"I did," the librarian replied confidently. "The sessions on Byzantine trade and Islamic social theory gave me some great insights and networking opportunities."

"Very good. Come, your wife will be waiting," he smiled, motioning for the other to follow.

****

Angie's morning went equally as well. During the first session, she heard a paper on experimental cancer therapies. Then, a talk on vascular cancer occupied her in the second period. This is great stuff. "I hope my talk measures up," she thought aloud.

"I'm sure it will," a voice shot out.

Angie turned to see Dr. Haddad. "Oh, Dr. Haddad, how are you?":

"I'm fine. I just cleared security. That's some demonstration out there."

"Dave's nervous about it," the oncologist sighed.

Dr. Haddad concurred, "I don't blame him. If anyone knows about East-West tensions, it's him. Hopefully, it hasn't ruined the mood for you two."

"Why, Dr. Haddad!" Angie protested, blushing. "No, Dave's still Dave."

"Good," she assured her younger colleague. Seeing two men walking toward them, she asked, "Ah, that would be him, right?"

Angie smiled and rushed to meet her husband. "How was your morning?"

"Great! And your stuff?"

"About the same. Everyone's wishing me luck," she replied.

"You're going to do great!" he affirmed. Looking at the woman standing by her side, he queried, "Angie, is this a friend of yours?"

"Oh excuse me. Dave, this is Dr. Marie Haddad from Istanbul. Dr. Haddad, my husband, Dr. David Dubois."

Dr. Haddad shook his hand. "The Shajarat al-Durr scholar. Nice work. I look forward to your talk."

"Thank you," he replied. "Now, let's get something to eat, shall we?"

****

After a feast of chicken and rice, the group walked into the room for Angie's talk.

Out of habit, Dave scanned the cavernous chamber for problems, listening for ticking of timers, or anything else. Walking around, he saw that it was clean. "Where do you want me to sit?" he wondered.

"If you don't mind, I would like you up front," his wife requested as she set up her notes.

He settled into the front row and watched as the people started to fill the arena. As he did so, Dr. Haddad joined him.

"Dr. Dubois, are you ready for your wife's speech?"

"Sure. I enjoy the medical angle," he responded.

"That's good. Frankly, Angela has some new findings so we'll see how the crowd reacts. I was going to ask you if you could help us with something?"

"Sure," he agreed.

"Our A/V person is sick. Would you be willing to substitute for her?" she requested.

"Absolutely," he agreed, following her to the overhead projector.

Dr. Haddad smiled and pointed out the situation to Angie.

The speaker nodded and grinned at her husband. Thanks, Dave. I knew you'd bail us out.

At that moment, the moderator walked up to the podium and started, "Attention, everyone! I wanted to introduce our next speaker, Dr. Angela Dubois from the University of Arizona. Her piece today covers experimental laser therapies. Dr. Dubois?"

Angie took her place and started, "Thank you, Dr. Haddad, and good afternoon, everyone." She read through her paper, giving minute details, and providing examples. Finally, when she had finished, the floor was opened for questions.

About four questions into that segment, a rather burly man stood and asked, "Mrs. Dubois, you talk about these lasers. Have you done the research? How could a woman like you have done this?"

She shivered for a second as she pondered the answer.

The man continued, turning to Dave, "And what kind of man lets his wife talk for him?"

The librarian flushed.

Ah'll do more than talk cute stuff at that fat ass, the Child growled.

Stick it. Dave took a deep breath and walked up to the podium. "Sir, in my culture, it's a smart man who does so. I value the good doctor's abilities. What would you have me do? Take her shoes and everything else away? Good luck trying that one, Pal. Besides, it would be wrong of me to do so. Tomorrow, you'll hear me speak about your culture, but today, please try to understand our culture, my friend. I'm not asking you to necessarily agree with it, but respect it. Remember, we're equal partners. Dr. Dubois, you want to take it from here?"

"Yes, I do." She stood tall and firm as she responded to her accuser. "Dr. Bifini, I trust that's you? I've done great deal of research in my field. While it's preliminary, it's still good. Oh and leave my husband out of this argument. This is between us, all right? I think the world of him because of what he just said. It may not work for everyone else, but it does for us! And it's Dr. Dubois, thank you!"

He nodded in approval to her. Way to go, Princess.

The moderator dismissed the group. After she had done so, she walked over to Dave and complimented, "That was marvelous, Dr. Dubois. Thank you for standing by us."

"It was nothing," he replied.

"But it was," Angie disagreed. "You gave me support and I had the chance to do the same for you. We showed them all our credo and made it work."

"I'll say one thing, Angie. Up there, you were like a tigress," he retorted.

"Dave, nobody's going to pull what they did to you in grad school again. I won't allow it!"

Now Ah know why Ah like her! The Child cheered.

"Everyone, now you know why I married this woman," he told them. "Now, let's get out of here."

They all agreed, leaving the site and heading back to the hotel, satisfied with their triumph in the adversity for that day.

Chapter 7

The next morning, Dave took his turn in front of the mirror, practicing his speech and wondering about his audience's reactions. These people could eat me alive too.

Let 'em try, the Child spat from inside of his head.

That's your answer for everything?

Damn straight. Ah say kick their asses and damn the torpedoes, Bro.

Dave sighed as he walked back across the room and admired his wife's face as she slept. "Sleep tight, Princess," he whispered before heading for the shower.

"Mmm, Dave?" Angie whispered. "7:30, hmm." Reaching over, she picked up the phone and dialed room service.

"Hello, Room Service."

"Yes, this is Angela Dubois up in Room 185. Can we order breakfast?"

"Yes, Ma 'am. What would you like?" the waiter asked.

She strained to look at the menu lying there. "How about two Belgian waffles--one for my husband and one for me? We also need orange juice and coffee. Thank you."

"It'll be there in about twenty minutes, Ma' am. Thank you," the waiter concluded.

She smirked, looking at the bathroom. Wait'll you see what I have planned for you, Dave. Just you wait.

****

About seventeen minutes later, a knock came from the door.

Dave stuck his head out of the bathroom. "Angie, who?"

She yelled, "Don't worry about it! Just keep getting ready!"

"Okay," he agreed, going back to shaving. She's up to something.

Meanwhile, in the main room, she set up the breakfast table, placing each waffle on a separate plate and ladling strawberries and whipped cream over them. This will make him feel better. Yummy. "Dave, what were you thinking about for breakfast?"

"Oh, a bagel I think would be good," he replied, walking into the room. When he saw the table, his jaw dropped.

"I think you ought to consider this option first. Both Karen and Cybelle said that you love these things," she cracked.

"And to think I would have been satisfied with a bagel. I love you," he expressed, kissing her on the cheek.

"Wow! For that, I'll buy a waffle iron and make them for you every day," she teased. "Give me a couple of minutes to shower, all right?" She rushed into the bathroom.

He sat down and admired the candlelit table for a minute. She's amazing.

Then she came back out of the shower wiping her hair. "Okay, let's eat. I can finish getting ready after we finish off those waffles."

"I wish this were going on tonight," he declared. "So we could enjoy the ambiance a bit more."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure. Well, this store is pretty liberal with its rain checks. You've got another one."

"Thanks," he replied. "And I mean to cash in tonight."

"I know. I'm counting on it," she chuckled.

****

[Conference site]

Meantime, in the dark auditorium, five men skulked around. Two kept watch on the door. The other three hustled onto the stage and unloaded their equipment.

"Hamid, is it there?"

"Yes, Suleyman, it is," the bomber stated, setting a box underneath the podium and rigging the wires. For a couple of minutes, he fussed with the set up before declaring, "Finished. Those stupid Americans will never know what hit them."

"Let's go!" the leader ordered, staring at his watch. The infidels will be here shortly.

****

[Car heading over there]

Angie sat looking out the window anxiously at the protests. What did we do? We only want peace. She looked at the floor to see her husband's gear bag at their feet. "I still don't like you walking here armed."

"Tough," he argued. "I'm not walking in here without being ready. No telling if one of the radicals is going to try something. I'm not taking any chances with you, all right? Right after I give my paper, we're heading back to the hotel."

"Fine," she sighed. He's back in that overprotective mode again. She recalled the scene in the Pit where he buried shaft after shaft into the trolls. I pity whoever decides to take a shot at us.

As they entered the site and made their way into the auditorium, he felt strange. "Angie, be careful."

"Intuition?" she asked. Somehow, I know he's right.

The medievalist walked in first, looking around. Some of the audience was already there. On stage, he saw Dr. Mowat reading something.

They walked over and greeted, "Good morning."

"Ah, hello to you both!" the moderator greeted. "Are you set, Dr. Dubois?"

"I am," Dave agreed.

"And you, Madam Doctor?"

"I'm ready too," she concurred. "I'm doing what you did for me yesterday, Dave."

"Okay, see you later," he told her. "And be careful."

"Yes, Daddy," she cracked.

He gave her a serious glare.

She nodded, all saucy thoughts vanishing. Gosh, he is serious. She headed for the equipment stand. "I guess we're set."

He gave her the thumbs up and paced about the stage for a minute, taking in every detail. For some reason, he knew something was up. "Let's get going," he told Dr. Mowat.

Mowat replied, "Are you all right, Dr. Dubois?"

"I'm fine," Dave indicated, setting his bag by the side of the stage within his reach.

"What's that?"

"Insurance," the historian advised. "Stuff that I hope won't be necessary. Let's go."

He nodded and introduced, "Everyone, good morning, and welcome to this presentation! Today, our speaker, Dr. David Dubois will speak on the Mamluks. He comes to us from the University of Arizona where he is a librarian. Dr. Dubois?"

"Thank you, Dr. Mowat, and good afternoon, everyone," Dave expressed as he started into his speech. Even as he read and focused on the topic at hand, he was still scanning the crowd and the room for trouble.

Good for you, Dave. Still I wish you weren't so on edge, Angie mused from her position as she worked his multimedia.

After the speaker had finished, Mowat asked for questions.

****

Up in the rafters, Suleyman held the remote. "Stupid westerners," he muttered, pressing the button on the remote. "In a minute, it won't matter."

****

Meantime, Dave heard something click on. What? He touched the podium and saw the panel was loose. Aw man.

Told ya'll it was a setup.

Dave removed the section and saw a shoebox with wires and a lit activation light. Worse still, a timer counted down toward zero. Fifteen seconds! Shit! "Umm..."

The moderator asked, "Dr. Dubois, what is it?"

"Get down!" the medievalist bellowed, running across the stage as he counted down the time remaining in his head. "Angie, get down!"

She stared incredulously. What now? Oh no. She dropped to the floor between the chair rows.

Then the timer hit zero and the device exploded, punching a hole in the middle of the stage.

Fortunately for Dave, he was thrown clear by the blast. He impacted against the far wall. That's it. Now I'm mad! Opening his bag, he strapped on his quiver, threw a few smoke bombs in his pockets, coiled his whip on his belt, and tested the bowstring. All set. Let's hunt some assassins. He growled, allowing the Child to surge forward.

Peering out, he saw that the crowd retreated toward the exits. Fortunately, only a few people seemed injured. Where's Little Woman?

At that moment, two masked men armed with machine guns came out from behind the curtain in front of him and two more behind him.

"Ah didn't think it was Trick or Treat," he snickered.

"Die, American dog!" they bellowed, firing their weapons at him.

Fortunately, the Child was just a bit faster than they were. Ah hate bein' fired at! These boys need a whuppin'! Palming a smoke bomb, he flung it at them, blanketing them with blue smoke. Hearing them hack and wheeze, he primed his bow and waited. Didn't like that, did ya'll? Now who's huntin' who? As the attackers stumbled out of the cloud, the Dark Predator fired shaft after shaft, burying them in shoulders and legs, trying to wound but not kill.

One by one, the quintet dropped like flies.

Big Bro., Ah love this sleepin' stuff!

At that moment, security rushed in with their weapons held at the ready. "Hey! Put the bow down!"

"Can it!" the Child roared. "Them there are yer boys!"

Standing up, Angie rushed on stage...or what remained of it. "Officers! He's my husband-the speaker-David Dubois. We were just attacked."

"And why does an academic have arrows?" the head security officer, a dark skinned, burly man, asked.

"And why d'ya'll allow assholes like them in? Git outta mah face!" the Child snapped, his left eye glaring at the other man and his companions.

Dr. Mowat stumbled across the stage, holding his arm. "Officers, please. I'm Ibrahim Mowat of the History Department here. He is who he says he is. Can you please take these men away?" He pointed to the five unconscious people on the floor.

The officers carried their prisoners out, still watching the Child.

Angie asked, "Are you?"

"Ah'm fine. Why don't ya'll check on 'im?" he told her.

She nodded and examined the arm. "It's broken." She removed the belt from around her skirt and rigged it as a sling for the injured man. "There. That'll hold until the paramedics get here."

"Thank you, Dr. Dubois. Is your husband all right?"

"Yes," she lied. But we'll beat your demons yet, Dave. I promise you. "I'll be back." She walked over to his side. "Hey."

"Yeah?" the Child asked tersely.

"How about letting Dave out?"

"All right," he agreed, forcing the change to happen.

"Angie, are you okay?" he wondered.

"My ears are ringing a bit, but otherwise-yeah, I'm fine. Is this what it's always like for you?"

"Some times," he replied, looking around the area. "Where are they?"

"If you mean the terrorists, they're in custody. Gosh, I'm glad you're okay. I was so scared," she told him, holding him close.

"That's okay. We made it through this one. Why don't you tend to Dr. Mowat? I'll keep an eye out."

She agreed and headed off. Just another day in Paradise, I suppose. Life in the fast lane was never this high speed, I'm sure.

Conclusion

Dave and Angie spent the remainder of the day at the local police station answering questions and providing whatever information they could to the authorities.

Fortunately, several members of the audience saw the terrorists attack and attested to the fact that Dave saved them.

All in all, a perfect way to spend one's honeymoon....

****

After returning to the hotel room that evening, they reclined on the bed and mused about what had happened. Life would indeed be interesting for them.

Then the phone rang.

"Hello?" Angie asked, hoping it wasn't another threat.

"Angie, it's Lydia Coltrane. How are you both?"

"It's okay. We're fine...thanks to Robin Hood over here," she started to say. Then she shook fearfully.

"Angie?" Lydia asked.

Dave wondered, "Are you all right?"

She waved him off continuing, "I...I'm here. His piece went so well and then, everything went crazy. Lydia, I was so scared when that bomb exploded. I thought that Dave was dead. That's all I could think about....I...I." She started to cry.

"It's okay," Lydia assured her. "Why don't you give me to Dave and then, you can wash up, all right?"

"Who?" he inquired, wanting to know who had made her so upset.

"It's Lydia," she replied moodily, handing him the receiver and heading for the bathroom.

"Hi, Lydia, what's up?"

His former professor chuckled. He lives through a bomb attack and he's asking me that. "Oh, the usual research. I see you're still making your usual impressions on people. You're sitting in the middle of an international incident, you know."

"We just spent the day being grilled by every bureaucrat in the Levant. Trust me, I know. I don't even know what happened," he replied.

He flipped out again to boot. Oh great. "Well, you didn't start it. The security camera caught the whole thing. That's some set of gear you've got there, Dave."

"I guess it saved our lives today," he retorted. "At least, His Darkness didn't kill anyone."

"Good thing for both of you," she declared. "Well, I'll talk to you both when you get back. All right?"

"Fine. I want to reassure Angie. All right? Thanks for calling. Bye!" he concluded, hanging up.

Angie shuffled back into the room a few minutes later, wiping her face off with a tissue. "How did the conversation go?"

"Lydia just reminded me that we're in the middle of an international incident is all. Oh well, all's well that end's well," he told her.

"But everything's still nuts! How can you say that?"

He shook his head. "Princess, 'thou doth protest too much'...shut up and pucker," he laughed, kissing her. "Well, shall we have dinner or what?"

"I forgot about eating. Sorry, I'm not really hungry," she replied moodily.

Suddenly, a knock came from the door. "That's too bad because I ordered in," he cracked.

"Oh no! You didn't!"

"I did," he snickered, opening the door.

The waitress wheeled in a cart with a four-course meal and champagne. "Lamb, rice, a traditional Greek salad, soup, and baklava for desert. Compliments of the Egyptian government for your assistance. Dr. Dubois, these roses are for you as well."

He tipped her. "Thank you for the meal and for bringing those roses up for me."

"You're welcome," she replied, leaving the room.

He closed the door and asked, "You like?"

"These roses! Oh, Honey, you didn't have to, but thank you!" she cried, embracing him. For a long minute, she held him tightly, not wanting to let go. Thank you, Lord, for letting me be with him. Then she collected herself, "All right, now about that rain check?"

"You want the food to get cold?" he cracked.

"Hey, this is a limited time offer, ya know!" she giggled.

"I know," he agreed, kissing her. "Hang on."

"What now?" she laughed. "Dave!"

"Just a minute," he pulled out a CD. "Ah, I found it!" Walking over to the room's stereo, he started the music, allowing their wedding song to waft through the air. "Now about that dance?"

She smiled and took him into her arms as they circled the floor. As the song cycled over and over, they did as well.

Thus, they finally had a moment on their honeymoon to celebrate. Even after all of the danger, they still had each other and, in the end, that's all that mattered.

THE END

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