//------------------------------// // Walk in the Waves, Never Fall // Story: For Nothing More Precious // by Shinzakura //------------------------------// Covered by the snows of late autumn sat a wealthy house in the famed 16th Arrondissement of Paris, the bastion of the rich and powerful. An ancient and well-tended country manor, its acres were blanketed in pristine white, the whole of the grounds glistening slightly from the moonlight. In a few hours, the sun would rise, signaling another day in the French nation as it moved more towards the holidays. Certainly the house, bedecked with bunting and candles, pine cones and all the signs of Christmas, was meant to embody the joyous spirit of the Yuletide; certainly the home’s owners, Prince Noblesse Oblige and his wife, Séduire, the couple that were the Heir-in-Pretense to the Throne of the Empire of France, were no strangers to it. But what was going on in the wee hours of the day, belied said holiday joy: the manor was alive with action, unnaturally so for this time of the day. Noblesse, dapper despite being up at an unreasonable hour, sat on the couch, his attention poring over various documents. His long blonde hair was tied back in a simple ponytail, draped over his shoulder and giving him a scholarly, studious appearance. He said nothing as his eyes traced over the various forms set before him, his attention razor-focused with the intent of a man long familiar with poring over mountains of paperwork. Meanwhile, his wife Séduire looked more like how she felt: though the princess and former actress looked impeccable as always, her long sea-green and turquoise hair and fair skin were as beautiful and alluring as her name. But her coral eyes were red from unshed tears and her hands were shaking as she took another drag from her cigarette. «J’avais encore espéré que cela n’arriverait pas,» she said sadly as she focused her attention on the Christmas tree and the gifts underneath them. Now, it felt there was very little to celebrate. «Que nous pourrions lui donner une maison.» Seated across from them, also smoking, a man with wavy blond hair and cerise eyes looked at her. He opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head, chuckling. “I swear, after all this time, I still can’t understand Froggie. Soli’s given me tons of shit for that, especially since it’s high past time that I probably should have learned it.” Noblesse laughed, clearly a needed balm for the current tension in the room. “Zephyr, you’re an idiot, you know that?” Zephyr Breeze leaned back on the couch. “At least your sister loves me.” The trio were currently discussing matters of import related to them: both Noblesse and Séduire had been involved in the periphery of a case that was tied to several members of the Belgian government. Furthermore, as head of security for the House of Bonaparte as well as the husband of Noblesse’s sister Solaire, Zephyr naturally needed to get involved as well. It had been a messy situation and one that the Belgian crown had been loath to make public, but thankfully in the end it had been dealt with rather swiftly. However, one last issue needed to be wrapped up, one that gave Séduire notable grief and one that both Noblesse and Zephyr would have rather avoided for her sake. And yet it had to be done, the joy of the holiday season be damned. Knowing her brother-in-law was a loss at French, she said in English, “And you’re sure of this?” Zephyr set his own cigarette down, then reached for a coffee cup that had been filled by staff just a few seconds ago. “My contact at the Embassy called me yesterday to confirm, and an hour ago they sent a courier over – they said it was too important to wait for working hours. And since they arrived at a ridiculous hour of the day, I felt the least I could do was treat it with enough importance to get my ass out of bed and come straight over.” He reached into a coat pocket and pulled out a dark blue square. “You know what this is.” He set the item down on the table before her. The item was there, undeniable by the princess: a passport bearing the symbol and markings of the United States. That was enough for Séduire. She got up and tried to leave the room elegantly, but instead sobbed and nearly bolted. “I knew she was going to take it hard, but not this bad,” Zephyr said apologetically. “You know we’ve always wanted children, but it never really worked out for us,” the prince said glumly, “and the wound just got deeper since you and Soli have been trying for a child of your own, especially with your children and my sister’s daughter living with you as well.” He then looked at the Christmas tree, and he wondered if Séduire had the same contemplations while doing so. «Mettre la charrue avant les bœufs.» “‘Cart before the horse’. Okay, I got that one.” “See?” Noblesse said, flashing a grin. “You’re not entirely hopeless.” Zephyr mock bowed. “I do try.” “Regardless, Zephyr, you are correct: Sédi had hoped beyond hope that this moment wouldn’t happen. Plus, you know how…difficult…it is to adopt in France, even for those of us with means and status. But I would be lying if I said I prayed this moment would never occur.” “Yeah, I can imagine. After all this is over, I’ll hit up my connections Stateside. Many of them owe me some serious favors, one that I’ll have no problems weighing in on. Regardless, that’s not going to apply to the situation at hand, in this case.” “I know. Once this is done, maybe these halls will fill with laughter once more.” Zephyr gave his brother-in-law a wan smile. “Anyone deserves it, it’s you and Sédi.” A Few minutes later, Séduire returned, followed closely by the maid that was up this early simply because the prince and princess were. But they weren’t the only ones: trailing close behind like a ghost on the haunt, was a girl in a modest sweater and jeans. She yawned and adjusted her glasses, then curtseyed as per protocol. «Bonjour, Votre Altesse, M. Breeze,» she said softly, almost as if to utter the words louder would be to engrave this point of reality into permanence. Despite it all, the princess grinned. “Even she can speak French, Zephyr. What is your excuse?” “Hey, I’m from America, where we only care about Spanish and sometimes not even then,” he said with a laugh. “Oh, and I should point out I’m not the only American here.” He held up the passport. “It’s been confirmed and approved.” All eyes in the room fell on the girl, who suddenly felt very nervous. She looked at the passport as if it was a train’s third rail; in hindsight, touching one of those might be a little safer. “Does that mean…?” she asked, unable to complete her sentence. He nodded. “They found your father. I don’t know all the details, admittedly, but it seems he lives with his family on the West Coast. The BCA discussed it with him, and he would like you to come live with them.” The girl looked up at Séduire, then at Noblesse, and then finally at Zephyr. She suddenly felt very alone and afraid, as if the rug had been pulled out from under her once again. She’d been living here for the past few months under the care of Noblesse and Séduire and had dared to hope she’d finally found a home and a life to call her own. But now all of that was being cast aside and she was being shipped off into the unknown, with uncaring bureaucrats throwing her dreams all away in order to fill some political administrivia or minutiae. In many ways, it was worse than when she found out her mother had died and to cover her funeral costs she would have to pay those with her body. Back then, she’d been young and innocent, ripe for being abused. Now, she knew the truth and was no longer jaded about such things, and yet the child in her still had hoped that once, just once…. Instinctively, Séduire embraced the girl. “You are very brave for enduring this, mon petite. It would have broken someone not as strong as you, but you have persevered.” Noblesse nodded. “I know you are courageous enough to face this. You have faced so much and you are not at fault for what they did to you. The fact that you have recovered from that and moved forward is a testament to your strength.” Zephyr looked at her, and seemed to be thoughtful for a moment before he weighed in. Smiling, he added, “Y’know, you remind me of my kid sister, Fluttershy. I remember when I was just a college student, and she was this tiny rug runner – knee-high to a grasshopper and all of that. I took her to Six Flags for the weekend because I didn’t get to see her enough. And she freaked out – six-year-old kid in Atlanta; you’d think she’d’ve seen it all! But no, she freaked and didn’t want to get on some of the rides. I had to tell her then that she needed to be brave, because if she wasn’t, well….” He took a drag from his cigarette, then continued. “There’s an old saying: you get over the regrets for the things that you did in time. But the things that you don’t do? You never get over that and they’ll haunt you forever. “Kid, I know you’re scared, and frankly, you have every right to be. You grew up without a father, and while your mother did what I’m sure was her best, her lifestyle took her away from you. And worse, the guy that your mother got to promise that he would look after you instead threw you to the wolves and nearly ruined your life, hurting you in ways that I know it’ll take a long time to recover from. And now, after having some semblance of normalcy, a situation where you can actually breathe and start to finally call your life your own, your father, some stranger whose genes you share and who you know nothing of except for through your mother’s stories, is taking it all away.” Zephyr nodded in sympathy. “I get that, I really do. And having watched Shimmy and my kids accept you and the friends you’ve made in the short time, it’s made you feel human again, and you’re now afraid that this will all set you back to square one, if not make things worse. “But I also know this: somewhere out there is a man who didn’t even know he had a child with your mother – she never told him. And apparently he’s married and has a life already; the agent I talked to mentioned a family. Or maybe he’s divorced or has a partner or whatever – I don’t know the details. But here’s the angle: as a father myself, I know I would never be able to look myself in the eye if I had a daughter I didn’t know about and I wasn’t able to reach out to her, especially when she needed me. What could I say to my other children? To my wife? What kind of person would that make me? I’m sure your father’s asking those questions now. From what you told me, your mother remembered him fondly, which meant they loved each other. The way I see it, that probably means that if he knew about you, he would have loved you from day one and would have never let you suffer the way you did. As it is, he’s willing to take a chance, because you need him…and probably, because he needs you as well. “I know you’re afraid, that you’re comfortable here with Nob and Sédi, and they would be happy to have you stay; hell, we all would, if you want to know the truth. But there will always be something missing if you don’t go and you may never be the girl that you need to be as a result. You’ll be someone else, and while that isn’t a bad thing, there might always be a hole in your heart because of an unanswered question.” He gave her a smile. “Only you can make the choice, but ultimately, you have to make one.” The girl looked at the three adults, and then the place she’d called home for the past couple of months. A few months before that, she’d been a well-kept, if underage, mistress for an influential Belgian politician. Before that, she’d lived in a peaceful poverty with her mother in the Der Wallen district of Amsterdam, listening to her mother’s stories about how the girl’s father had been a “big shot American football player” and someday he would come for them. He never came for her mother…but if what Zephyr was saying was the truth, her father had never known until now. And now that she needed a home…he was opening up one for her. Now…she would find out. Seltenheit wiped her eyes, warding away tears easily – something that came all too easy for her, given everything in her life. “I’ll do it,” she said, her voice half-intrigued, half-resigned. Sometime later, there was a knock on her bedroom door and a familiar face poked her head in. «Je suis venu voir comment tu vas.» Seltenheit looked up and brightened at the sight of her visitor: the girl that had been both benefactor and savior. It had been Sunset Shimmer that had helped her when she had no one else to turn to, and truth be told, Seltenheit adored Shimmer and her older twin sister for what they had done for her. If she had to admit it, Seltenheit probably had a slight crush on the older girl, but it never went past ardor. Besides, Seltenheit herself had more than enough of having to “experience” clients of her own gender; while she was heterosexual, if she was ever going to “cross the fence” of her own accord, the person had to be worth it. “Hello, Shimmy,” Seltenheit said in English, setting down the book she’d been reading. “Guess you’re switching to English because you’ll be using it more often?” Shimmer asked as she came over and sat down on the bed next to the younger girl. “You okay?” “No, no I’m not. I’m afraid. I…I like living here with your aunt and uncle and everyone. And now, I’ll be seeing a man I’ve never met before, whose only existence I know of because my mum used to tell me stories she believed in but sound like they’re made-up in hindsight.” Shimmer grinned. “Like a princess of a French dynasty that also just happens to be a typical American high school girl?” The violette blinked. “I…never thought about it that way,” she admitted. “That’s what I deal with every day, Selty. My friends know that I’m Princess Sunset Shimmer, but they also know that to them, I’m just Shimmy. Trust me, if you’re worried about what your father thinks of you just because of what you had to go through to survive? It doesn’t matter. You’re not some girl that all that happened to, you’re Selty. And while I get your concerns, apparently he doesn’t have them, because he could have always declined to meet you but instead, he’s offering you a home.” “But I’ll be alone if I go!” “No, you won’t. You’ll make friends and have someone by your side, always. And if worst comes to and you’re ever in trouble, remember: my sister lives in the US, on the West Coast, no less. And if you trust me and think I’ll always be there for you, Sunny’s even better at it than I am. I guarantee she’ll be in your corner if you need someone.” “Really?” Shimmer nodded. “It’s like magic how she does it,” the girl said with a soft laugh. “Plus, I have it on good authority you’ll be fine, if for no other reason than your accent – guys dig girls with accents. Granted, I don’t have one since I go to the American section of my school, but when I went to San Francisco with my cousin, I briefly faked a French one and had more than a few guys looking my way.” Shimmer reached over and hugged Seltenheit. “You’ll be fine, I guarantee it.” “I don’t understand: how can you be so sure?” “Because I spent years thinking I was an only child and that my twin sister had been stillborn. And then one day – one magical day – I came across a girl who turned out to look just like me and have the same name and everything as me. And together we found out I wasn’t the surviving twin, but one of the two surviving triplets – and that the other surviving sister had been stolen from us at birth and our third sister had been stillborn.” Strangely enough, unlike most of the other things that Shimmer had told Seltenheit, somehow there was an oddly pat feel to these words, as if they were said rote and fake rather than genuine and true. But Seltenheit had met Sunset and other people had confirmed their strange but true story. In many ways, it reminded Seltenheit of that old saying: The truth is stranger than fiction, because fiction has to at least make sense. And yet somehow, Shimmer and her twin sister were perfectly fine despite everything they’d been through. Maybe – just maybe – so would Seltenheit herself. “C’mon, let’s get going,” Shimmer told her. “We’ve got some shopping to do today.” “We do?” “I’m not sending my friend away without giving her a few presents aside from what’s under the tree already. And moreover, you’re not moving to America without looking like the darling European girl that you are, got that?” It had been a long day – too long, Zephyr had to admit – and yet it didn’t seem like it was going to end anytime soon. Right now, he was on the phone with a BCA agent, and going over all the long, toiling details once more. “Look, Agent…Outlook, right? Are you sure this is the best way of going about this?” Zephyr asked, his voice holding an edge of exasperation. On the other end of the line, sounding tinny and with the telltale occasional pop of an overseas line, Agent Global Outlook, Bureau of Consular Affairs, noted. “You know the law, Mr. Breeze, given that you were once a Federal agent yourself. It has to start with an official phone call, so the child and the parent can have first contact and so the parent can work out with the authorities for the official turnover. As I understand it, Mr. Flanks has agreed to fly to Paris to meet the girl instead of in New York, as per the norm. He’s also agreed, if she so wishes, to meet in Amsterdam so she can say farewell to her mother’s grave if need be. He’s been very accommodating.” Zephyr leaned back on the sofa and rubbed his head; he was getting a headache and needed a shot of whiskey, bad. “I’m sure he has. I just want to make sure this doesn’t go south.” “Given his profile, none of us do. Granted, Flanks isn’t the biggest of celebrities out there, even during his prime in the NFL. But he’s got enough pull still that all it will take is the right story, the kind that will cause a shitstorm if, say, the Equestria Daily publishes a story about how his reunion with his child got fucked by international red tape. Because the next thing you know, that’ll be on the front page of the New York Times, the Paris dailies and the end result is that the media will have a field day.” “Don’t remind me. Okay, set the call. It’s nine in the morning here right now, so it’s gotta be midnight there, if I recall. Make it for one in the afternoon your time and we’ll make sure things are ready to go on this end.” “I’ll do that. You just do what you need to do, and I’ll do the same.” “Yeah, you do that too.” Zephyr hung up the phone and slunk further into the couch. He was not looking forward to ripping Seltenheit out of the life she’d built here, nor was he sure that this was the right thing, but he knew as a father, he had to at least try to do the right thing. He’d surely enough made a mess of his career in the US government doing that, that was for sure. “You don’t look happy.” Zephyr’s wife, Solaire, approached, carrying a cup of tea she’d clearly made for him. It was amazing how the princess seemed to be able to read his mind sometimes. While part of it was probably the way they clicked together naturally as couples did, part of him also wondered if maybe she’d picked it up as part of all that weirdness that occurred – or didn’t, depending on your view – back in Canterlot. He certainly knew the schoolteacher that was Solaire’s doppelganger seemed a bit otherworldly at times, or maybe Shimmer’s absolutely otherworldly twin had done so. Either answer was going to give him a migraine thinking about it, so he just opted to let it be. “Honestly, Soli…I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I’m taking Selty away from your brother and sister-in-law and Sédi already loves that girl to pieces. They’d adopt her in an instant if they could and Selty wouldn’t have a problem with that. And yet…I can’t see myself doing that to another father, especially if he’s trying to reach out to her. He might not be the best for her, but he’s trying, and I can’t just deny that.” He shook his head in frustration. “Rock and a hard place – story of my life.” “For what it’s worth, I know my brother thinks you’redoing the right thing sending her to the States,” Solaire told him as she handed him the cup. “You’re reuniting a family that needs to be together and given what you went through for your own children, you know that’s the right thing to do. But moreover, by moving her to California, you’re ensuring that she’ll be where she can be protected, and our own family will be less exposed to the risk that you seem so sure is coming our way.” “I’d, uh, hoped you’d forgotten about that part,” he admitted. “I assure you, living in this family, normalization of risk is a thing. You know that,” she said with a smile. “Yeah. I just don’t think you understand what that girl was peripherally involved in – I know she doesn’t. Nob’s contacts in the Belgian government were eager to get her out of their hair and although he doesn’t know why, they told me and it has me very uncomfortable. And I know Selty’s just a bystander in all this. I just worry that if she goes Stateside and those that want her are willing to hunt her down, someone could get hurt.” “If that’s the case, can’t you have the authorities there protect her and her family?” “Probably, but if the Inlaatduiker want her dead or worse, they’re not going to care what some Podunk local police officer in the US says, regardless of whether or not American cops are better armed than most European soldiers. They’re going to go after her and if that’s the case, Seltenheit will only have one avenue of safety left, the kind that’s out of my hands.” “The FBI?” “No. I’m thinking more the kind that comes attached to a certain teenage girl that can snap a mushroom cloud into existence if she gets angry enough.” “Merde.” “Yeah.” He took the cup of tea and downed it in one gulp. It didn’t help in the least. In a room in Vorst prison in the namesake municipality of Belgium, a lawyer met with his client. Juridische Status was one of the best solicitors in the nation and he had to be, given the caliber of clients his firm represented. And for now, the one that was at the top of his list was Plenaire Vergagering, the now-disgraced member of parliament that had recently been arrested and expelled from office for his involvement in a child sex ring. The fool even had his own teenaged mistress, who apparently when not entertaining him operated her “business” out of a flat that he owned in Bruges. But enough of Status’ opinions; as he noted to himself, he had more than one client and it was for the sake of the other client that he was here right now. He had a job to do, and do it he would, regardless of whatever scumbags he had to deal with. “I have it on good information,” he began, “that if you can provide a copy of the files that you had intended to give to your, ahem, ‘patron’, that they might be able to arrange for this to go away.” “What, they think they got their hands around the king’s balls or something? I want proof.” Seated on a dull metal chair in a bright yellow set of coveralls, a fat, balding man sat, running a hand through thinning purple hair. “I was told that I was immune from prosecution and look at what happened!” “No, you were told that you would be protected so long as you followed procedure. But you decided to get creative because you thought it would get you more profit and more…fun.” Status gestured to the concrete walls of the visitor room. “Instead, you ended up with this, a fall worthy of Icarus. Of course, that could change, if you were to pay attention this time.” Status leaned forward against the table. “We know you have those files in your possession, and while we have managed to recover the originals, a smart man like you obviously made backups. I also suspect that you would have a way of making sure that anyone that somehow managed to find said backup wouldn’t be able to use it unless you provided an assurance.” Vergagering gave a lecherous grin. “So you do think on occasion.” “Yes. And right now, I’m thinking that I am authorized by the organization to provide…guarantees for you, provided that the files are proffered, free and clear.” Status leaned back in his chair and adjusted his tie. “So, where are they?” “Find me my whore,” Vergagering replied as he smiled with the look of someone who thought he held all the cards. That wasn’t the case, but best to let him think so, Status mused. “If you find that little purple-haired cunt, you’ll find part of the key. Not all, but part.” “I truly doubt that’s the case. Given all the evidence she provided to the government, it’s not very likely.” “Because she isn’t aware she has it. Bring her back to me and I’ll get you what you need. But in return…I want out of here. Give me a place where I can be left in peace, away from prying eyes.” “I think that can be arranged.” “And, of course, I’m going to need a replacement.” Status adjusted his glasses. “A replacement?” “For the bitch, of course. Because I’m going to splatter her brains against the nearest wall to get what you need. Honestly, I was going to kill her anyway for betraying me after everything I did for her.” “I see,” Status said, looking at his phone before pocketing it once more. He then went over to the counter, where the police officer was and said something, then passed what appeared to be a sizeable stack of euros through the door. “Well, it is your lucky day, Minister, because the organization has been listening to everything through my phone—” He pulled it out briefly before putting it back once more, “—and they would like to make a goodwill gesture to entice you to keep your end of the bargain.” Vergagering raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” In response, the entry door buzzed loudly and a young girl wearing a long coat came in. She looked no more than fourteen, with long hair, beige on one side and gray on the other, tied behind her with a large red bow. Her eyes were heterochromic dark gray and light gray, and she had the kind of smile on her face that indicated she knew exactly what she was here for and how to provide it. “My name is Griotten,” she breathed, coming up close to him, “And I’m going to be everything you need.” She then removed her coat, revealing her young, topless body and the bottom half covered only by a very thin pair of tie-on underwear and stiletto boots. “I think I’m going to like her,” Vergagering said to Status. “She’s yours for the next four hours, so enjoy,” Status said blandly. “And if you provide what the organization needs, not only can you have her, you can also have the other one trained to your specifications.” Vergagering leered at the girl, barely bothering to pay attention to anything else. “So these are the trained wives, eh? Heard about them but didn’t really believe they existed.” “They’re decidedly an…Asian specialty, shall we say, but some clients have exacting tastes, and the organization must meet the needs of its clientele. Enjoy and tot de volgende keer.” With that, he walked out of the room and the thick metal door slammed closed with a thunk, leaving the two alone in there. Griotten wrapped her arms around Vergagering’s neck. “I understand you had your own girl before. I promise you, she’s nowhere near as good as me.” “Oh?” Vergagering could feel himself rise to the occasion, and this was only intensified when Griotten leaned up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss, then planted kisses down his unshaven face. The young girl then took the tab of his jumpsuit’s zipper in her teeth, sliding down against his body, making sure he felt every bit of her curves even as she undressed him. It was the last thing he felt before she immediately launched back upwards and slammed him with the palm of her fist, precisely at the base of his nose. His eyes suddenly rolled back and a dribble of blood poured out of his nostrils before he fell back, dead. As his corpse hit the ground and blood began to pool around his head in a gruesome halo, Griotten removed her underwear, then removed the wire knife that was hidden in it. She completely undressed him, then felt for a small mole around his groin. Cutting it open, she removed a small, bloody capsule from his flesh. “Wow, high tech,” she mused to herself as if it were nothing, then looked down at him and smiled. “Too bad you’re not my type, you old fat fuck. But look at it this way: the last thing you ever got to see was my heavenly body against yours. That’s worth something on the way down to hell, isn’t it?” With that, she then began to tear apart her coat and pull out the spare clothing she had hidden in there. Her job was over; no need for her to give the other prisoners a free show if they weren’t going to pay for it. A few minutes later, she walked out of the prison and got into Status’ car. “Here you go. Right where you said it would be. How’d you know?” Status signaled for her to put on her seatbelt, and she quickly did. As they drove away, he said, “The girl we’re after wasn’t the only one that Vergagering had on the side. We were able to locate a second girl, an Estonian girl in Reeperbahn. He got her pregnant and in return for giving her a ticket back home and enough money to support her child, she told us everything about the operation.” His mouth curled slightly in an approximation of a smirk. “Apparently, she wanted to be a doctor before she got tricked into sex slavery. Fortunately for her, the organization gave her enough money where she can actually attend medical school in her home country.” “That’s nice; I don’t actually give a shit,” Griotten said. “So, where’s the rest of my money?” “At my place, as agreed. I’ll give it to you there and afterwards you’re free to take this car and head off – the car isn’t registered in my name in any case.” She looked him over. “Your house? Well, if you’re expecting anything else, it’s extra.” “I don’t sleep with fourteen-year-olds. Unlike perverts like the one you just killed, I have standards,” Status said. “What if I told you I’m not actually fourteen, but instead twenty-nine?” He gave her a disbelieving look. “You’ll have to excuse me if I disbelieve that.” “And if I said I was hundreds of years old?” she laughed. “I’d rather believe you were twenty-nine, not that I believe that, either.” “Can’t say I blame you, but it’s true.” She looked him over again and leaned back in the passenger seat. “Tell you what: since I’m bored, just give me the rest of the money I’m owed for the contract and in turn I’ll give you a night like you’ve never had before.” “I’m sure you would. But personally, I prefer to wake up in the morning and as I gather from your contracts, those you show your wares to don’t get to see the next sunrise.” “Oh, that’s business,” the girl said, smiling and though Status didn’t admit it, her rictus downright unnerved him – it was the look of a female mantis looking at a male, which never went well after mating. “Honestly, I don’t mix business and pleasure, but the minute I get my cash, business is over and funtime begins.” “That’s an interesting way of looking at things.” “Hey, I like to keep things simple. So, let’s go to your place, you get money in my hands and I get your body parts in mine, deal?” The line crackled, and for several seconds was the only sound that could be heard before Seltenheit spoke to Hondo once more. “I would like to meet in Amsterdam, please. I want to see my mother one last time before I leave Europe for good. And I think you should say something as well.” “Okay,” Hondo said, holding the phone and fighting the dry throat he had. At Cookie’s insistence, the call on their end had been on speakerphone, so she could hear everything. There would be no more secrets between them, she demanded, one he couldn’t – or wouldn’t – deny her. “I will see you in one week. Ik kijk ernaar uit u te ontmoeten.” There was a click on the other line and the State Department operator said, “The call on the other end has ended, Mr. Flanks. You may hang up now unless you wish me to transfer you to Agent Outlook’s line.” “No, that will be all. Thank you for your time.” He pressed disconnect on his phone and then looked at Cookie. “Well, you heard everything.” “Accent aside…her voice sounds very much like Rarity’s, and that’s already in addition to the fact that she looks like our daughter as well. There’s no doubt: this girl is your child, Hondo.” “I need to arrange a flight to Amsterdam. And I need to figure out a way to tell the girls about all this.” “We’ll get through this.” Cookie patted her husband on the shoulder. This morning, at breakfast, she’d told him flat out that while she still felt betrayed, she knew that she still loved him. That, combined with the fact that the infidelity happened so long ago, meant that she knew she wasn’t going to even consider separation, much less divorce. But it would be a while before she invited him back into her bed, and she would likely be using the guest room in their house for quite some time. “You have more confidence than I do right now.” “I don’t doubt that.” She paused in thought, pursing her lips as if biting the end of a pen, a journalistic habit she’d picked up somewhere and had never dropped. “Well, it’s late and I’m going back to my hotel room. We can have breakfast in the morning before we head back to Canterlot and figure out how we’re going to tell the girls. Let’s be honest: neither of them will take it well at all. Our daughters are drama queens – that comes from your side of the family, you know.” “I know. I just….” “You wished none of this happened?” To her surprise, his eyes firmed up. “I can’t say that. If I did, that would mean I’d regret Seltenheit’s life, and even though I don’t know her…she’s my child. Saying that would be no different than saying that about Rarity or Sweetie. And as much as I’ve hurt you and our daughters, Cookie, I can’t deny Seltenheit’s existence. I just….” He swore underneath his breath. “I love you, Cookie. And I would take the pain back if I could, but I can’t deny Seltenheit. I don’t know what else I can say.” “I know,” she said, smiling despite it all. “And maybe one day I can actually believe that again.” Nothing else to say, she left the room, headed towards her own hotel, at the location across the street.