Wedding Bells

Signs of Interest 17

Wedding Bells

Goldie got home from Justine's around 4am. Her side hurt from laughing so hard and her head hurt from too much wine. Apparently the guys had avoided the pokey and made it home in one piece. Dane had called to reassure Justine they were fine, but Justine had already known through her bond with Luc.

Goldie got up to her alarm around 9am, called to make certain Dane was with Justine, and then felt her way toward the shower. After a particularly long, hot and stingy shower session she thought she might make it through the day. Well, until she remembered that Justin was coming to take her to the church. Oh, and to get the portrait she'd done of Luc and Justine.

It had been something she'd done on a whim. She hadn't asked them to pose. She'd drawn it from her sketches of him and her intimate knowledge of Justine. It hadn't come out too badly, either.

She fought with her hair, cursing, as it seemed to have a mind of its own, and then she couldn't find the heels that matched the skin tight dress Justine had wanted her to wear (hardly very old maidish). She was crawling around on the floor looking under the couch for the second shoe when the doorbell rang.

She froze, one arm stuck under the couch. She blew hair off her face, and began hyperventilating.

Justin tried the door handle and when it turned stepped in, calling her name. He'd spent most of the few hours he'd had in bed laying awake and thinking. He'd finally concluded, as he watched the sun come up, that he was willing to kidnap her. All he needed was an iota of chance that she didn't hate him. "Goldie," he called a little louder, moving towards the living room.

"Here," came a muffled reply. First thing he saw was her butt. Then she popped up and he saw the rest of her. She gave him a wavering smile. "Sorry. Shoe was stuck under the couch."

"No need to apologize. Need some help? Or just a hand up?"

Goldie, realizing that with the dress on she would look like an utter idiot trying to get up she said, "A hand up would be appreciated. I got the shoe," she added, waving it a bit triumphantly. "Managed to tame the beast."

He waited for her to put it on then held out both hands to her. "I can already tell you look wonderful. Beautiful enough to make my mouth water."

She took his hands, and flushed. "Uhm, thanks. I .. I think I ate too much popcorn last night. It's tight." She caught her breath as he pulled her upward.

"Makes the view even better," he said, stepping back a pace to look at her.

"Oh, thanks," Goldie muttered trying to pull the dress down a bit. "Oh, I didn't have a chance to wrap the portrait. I wanted to make sure it was dry first."

Justin walked over the the wall, moving unerringly to the new canvases. "You've been working hard," he said. He lifted the picture of Luc and Justine to look closer at it and then stopped, shocked into stillness by the painting behind it. Logically he'd known she'd either already painted it or would very soon, but still he never expected to see it like this, leaning against a wall, unframed by anything really except the wooden slats that stretched the canvas.

Goldie prepared her own canvases, both in laying the primers and stretching them. He knew that from the histories. But to see this work, famous, priceless and even more heartbreakingly innocent and agonized in this setting than in the museum where'd he'd seen it last, just leaning against a wall amid several other canvases, some of them still unprepped, some completed and some looking like she was planning to paint over them landed the impact in his gut like a freight train, in his emotions and not in the logical centers of his brain where it would be safely filtered through the art historian in him.

His mate. It was the self portrait, in sweats, after the run, just like she'd joked. All the aching vulnerability and loneliness was there in every line. All of her earnest gaity that was the thin veneer over her wrenching need for love dripped with every bit of sweat along the hairline. His mate. Lost and confused fighting with everything she had to hang tough, stay strong and never show the world what lay beneath.

He set Luc's wedding gift aside and reached reverently for the self-portrait. He turned so the light from the wall of north facing windows hit it full on and just looked, drinking it in. Part of him wanted to weep for her. To let out the tears she wouldn't. The other part of him wanted to just enfold her in his arms and never let her go, promise her whatever he had to, whatever she wanted, if she'd just let him take care of her the way she ached to be taken care of. Just that, nothing more. Just let him take care of her, let him love her like she deserved.

He blinked hard, trying to focus past the emotion rolling over him like a tide. He could hear his heart pounding, knew he was breathing hard and couldn't hide it. He could already hear her saying it wasn't very good. It was just a joke. The way she joked about the painting of the teddy bear. He'd never understand how she couldn't see what he saw, what the known universe saw. But if she'd just give him half a chance he'd spend the rest of life showing her.

"Uhm," Goldie said from behind him. "Said I would so I did. Just, uhm," she stepped backwards. Then suddenly she picked up a badly stained towel, covered with various colors of oil paint, and probably some watercolors too, and tossed it over a painting on an easel that stood behind him. He could see a corner of it. Something she was working on, obviously unfinished. "I need to pack this one for the newly weds. Should I .. I mean, will it be okay just wrapped in paper or should I box it or what? Do you think they'll like it?"

"They'll like it," Justin said absently, taking a few steps backward holding the other out at arms length. She'd done it in oils and he could almost see the layering but not quite. "Paper and ribbon should be fine."

He looked around for some place to prop it up and saw the easel. "But a box works too," he offered as he set it down and stepped back. Then he shook his head and lifted it again, pulling the rag off the painting behind it. He tossed the rag aside and turned back to the easel, ready to set the other painting aside as well so he could get a better look at the self-portrait. Behind him he heard, as if it were miles away, the sound of Goldie's voice. She seemed to be protesting. But he wasn't sure. He was having too much trouble breathing.

Goldie grabbed his arm and tugged. "You weren't... I .. I hate it when people see stuff I'm just messing with." With her other hand she threw the rag back over it. It was his face he'd been looking at. His face looking out at him, a partial smile on his lips. "I just... I'm sorry. I should have asked first. Particularly something that .. obviously you. Sorry, sorry. Well, at least it isn't a nude."

Justin set the self portrait down on the easel as carefully as if it were a bomb about to explode. Then he turned to look at her, his eyes blazing, emotion pouring off of him, cascading into the space between them like a living thing, reaching for her. Then abruptly it stopped and he shut down, his face closing. "We don't have time for this right now. But there's no way in hell you're getting away now. Do you need help with their painting?"

"I.. No. I can get it. I've been meaning to apologize. I don't blame you about Daddy. I'm sorry if it seemed I did. It was just... I'll wrap the painting," she added faintly, and grabbed it and walked over to get a roll of heavy-duty paper and a roll of twine. She laid the portrait down on a worktable and pulled out a frame she'd gotten for it, slipping the portrait of the lovers into it, and working swiftly and expertly to set it just right, her back to Justin.

"Believe me baby, I'm figuring that out. But now isn't the time. You need anything else? A wrap or something? Luc promised coffee at the church. And bagels."

"Oh, thank God. I haven't even had any caffeine yet. Let me grab my bag. Here, you can put this in the car," she added handing him the portrait. "I should have bought them a toaster. They'll hate it."

"Stop being so defensive."

"You should talk," Goldie muttered, as she marched off to get her bag.

He growled, prowling at her heels. "I should, but are you sure you're ready for what I'd say?" By the time he finished the last word he was purring, leaning in towards her ear, letting his breath on her skin say everything else. He breathed in her scent, letting it surround him, sink into him, feeling all the jagged edges of the last few days and weeks slid away as his world righted itself. He could almost taste her. Not setting his tongue to her skin was torture. Not announcing she was his and hauling her to the floor to prove it in the most primitive ways imaginable was worse. Baby girl had no idea what was coming.

"What, uhm, what are you doing?" Goldie asked faintly. "We really should get to the church."

"Not nearly enough to suit me," he said and stepped back. "Ready?"

"Yeah. You driving or am I? Are you, uhm, leaving with them? Cuz I'm not sure how you guys get, uhm, home. Is it like Luc's Jeep is really a space ship, or are there regularly scheduled flights? Or like Pan Am Flight 345 goes to Mars instead of to Maine?"

"I'm driving but don't fret, baby girl. I'll make sure you get home."

"Well, if you're planning to leave it only seems reasonable for me to take my car. We could take both," Goldie suggested.

In her dreams. He held the door open and just waited, eyebrow arched in amusement.

Goldie shrugged, and gingerly tilted her body to get into his car. The dress was a pain in the butt. And other places. Finally she dropped successfully into the passenger seat. and swung her legs around.

"Are you, uhm, never mind. You look nice."

"Thank you. And thank the stars Justine is a sensible woman."

"Huh?" Goldie asked, even more confused.

"Suit. Not a waiter costume."

"Oh, well, I have my doubts," Goldie replied darkly, examining the dress she was wearing. "How is Luc doing?"

"Fine, last I saw. Glad it's almost over. How's the bride?"

"Excited. Deeply happy," Goldie added. "It's good to see her that way."

"Yeah. He is too."

Goldie turned to look out the car window as he drove off. "Look, I'm sorry I ever doubted either of you. And, I'm gonna miss her horribly but since ... well, I want her to be happy. She will be, won't she? Something about his family has her a little worried. She hasn't said much, but..Will it be okay for her?"

Justin watched her out of the corner of his eye. "His family is rather conservative. But I think, eventually, if Luc handles it right, everything will work out there. We're working on it. If it doesn't, it won't matter. They'll still be happy."

"And what, they'll think she's marrying him for his money? No, don't answer that. I'm just... nervous I guess. I talk a lot of nonsense when I am."

"No, they won't think that." Justin laughed. "She'll have more money than they do."

"She has a fairly good retirement fund going but I hardly think.... Oh, there's Luc."

Luc was pacing the parking lot.

"He looks nervous to me," Goldie said, grinning. "As it should be."

Justin Laughed. "I'll tell him you said that and he'll refuse you coffee."

"Don't you dare!" Goldie said as she let herself out of the car before Justin could get to the door. She hurried over to Luc. "Coffee..." she muttered.

Luc smiled down at her. "That'a way," he said indicating the back door to the church. He watched her mince her way toward the door. The butt was alluring.

"I wondered," Luc said to Justin as he joined him "if you two would actually make it. I was trying to come up with excuses. They're screwing the hell out of each other hardly works in this situation."

"I haven't touched her," Justin said. "But I'm going to."

"No more doubts?" Luc asked.

"I don't have any. Though I am sure she does and will for a long time." Justin shrugged. "But then she thinks her art is crap."

"My heart stopped when I saw that self portrait just sitting there," Luc admitted. "I've always liked it best. Wondered how she could be so brave as to have stripped off all her layers of personal protection and expose herself so much. But anyway, now my day really will be happy."

Justin grinned. "Bet your night's even better."

"Yeah," Luc replied grinning. "It's .. amazing really. Whole 'nother experience. Heard that all my life, never really believed it all. Never seemed to make the men in my family very happy. I thought maybe we were genetically screwed or something."

"You escaped the mutation." Justin handed him a cup. "Goldie asked about Justine and your family. She says Justine's worried."

"Yeah, well, I am too, so I'm sure she's sensing it through our bond. It's growing pretty fast. I've told her as much as I could. I mean, how do I explain it all? But now, if Goldie will be there too.. She'll have someone she can really talk to."

Luc hesitated for a moment then added, "You take her out of the reception the moment you can. I'll explain to Justine."

Justin studied him. "Something I should know?"

"I just don't want you to let her talk you out of it. You saw that painting of you, right? Goldie might be conflicted about a lot of things, but not about you."

"It about knocked me out. Then she apologized for it, for not asking me if she could paint it." Justin shook his head. "But you know what. I think she's going to have a really hard time dealing with how she's going to be seen at home. That people think she's a genius with a paintbrush. I think it's going to terrify her."

"So maybe you, I don't know, take her off to some hidden backwater where she won't have to deal with it all. But yeah, it'd be scary for anyone suddenly to find out she's seen as this genius." Luc hesitated then added, "She'll be fine. She'll have you."

Justin considered Luc for a moment. "I got a message from Lucas right before we left. Passed on his best wishes for you and Justine. Said he hoped your family appreciated her. Wanted to know what I was doing now that you were getting married."

"And you said?" Luc asked, a bit warily.

"Nothing yet. But he's got lots of room that qualifies as a backwater and I have to admit I'm starting to wonder what Goldie would make of a bunch of mercs." Justin shrugged again. "You had to know it was coming Luc. He knows who Justine is."

"Yeah, I expected it. And you know I share a lot of the Rebel ideals. But.. I don't want to be forced into being a weapon they wield against my father, and I especially don't want them trying to manipulate Justine into that position. I want a chance to see how my father takes it. See what he does. I don't want to fight with him or the rest of my family and his supporters. I will if I have to, but it'll be my decision. Mine and Justine's, not Lucas's or his organization's."

"You should go talk to my father."

"I respect your father a great deal. I hope he knows that," Luc replied. "I'll talk to him, but he's got to realize I won't be pushed into anything."

"I think he knows that. What I don't think you get is that you can't stand aside from the politics anymore. Either you and Justine control the power you have or someone will try to do it for you. And there's ways, as you know, that don't include taking a seat in the senate or taking over the opposition party."

"Crap. I'm the one who needs some quiet backwater. And you know what? I see Justine as all too ready to jump into this."

"I'd be curious about her motivation though, if it were me. She doesn't strike me as the politico type."

"No, but she's the feminist I'm not gonna take anyone pushing me around type," Luc replied with a sigh. "The down-side of mating with someone who wasn't raised in our culture."

"She's a historian. And a Calloway. I suspect culture has little to do with it. I want to be there, though, the first time she goes toe to toe with your father. He's not going to know what hit him. Hell, you still don't, and I may never. And god forbid anyone ever tries to screw with your kids."

"You know, as my best friend you're supposed to be here reassuring me, not scaring the shit out of me. Kids? Kids? Hopefully not for a couple of hundred years. Maybe by then I'll have figured out what's hit me."

"Glad I could help," Justin laughed.

"We'll hear you talk after you bond with Goldie. You'll be singing in a different key then. So she's agreed?"

"Nope. Not out loud anyway. I've come to the conclusion that she communicates better non verbally."

Luc almost choked. "Now you figure that out. Well, better late than too late, I guess. That painting of you, buddy. It sure says it to me, and I'm not all that into art."

"I agree. Shouldn't we be inside?"

"Yeah, come on. Justine tells me she and Dane will be leaving the house soon. You look good, by the way. But I still think we oughta have swords."

Justin followed him into the church, heading for the coffee pot. "No swords."

"Well, if we have a ceremony at home we will," Luc replied smugly. "And a uniform."

"You will. Your father will demand it."

"My father will probably be livid. I'm looking forward to it," Luc replied.

Goldie had been peeking out the door watching the church fill up. Their SCA buddies were handling the preliminaries. "Where's the priest?" she asked. "He didn't run for the hills did he?"

"I spoke with him earlier," Luc replied. "He'll be along in a minute. I'm the one who's supposed to be nervous not you."

Justin looked at her. "You're nervous?"

Goldie put her hands on her hips. "My best friend is going off with a guy she met only a few weeks ago, to a place I know nothing of, to a family that sounds like every girl's nightmare. Of COURSE I'm nervous!" After a moment she added, "No offense, Luc."

"No offense taken," Luc replied hiding a grin.

"You could be there for her," Justin said.

Goldie blinked. Luc, eyed the two of them then headed out and away to give them so privacy.

Justin cocked a brow and waited.

Goldie blushed bright red. "How?"

He shrugged. "What difference does that make?"

She frowned at him. "You said I could do something, I ask how and you respond, what difference does that make?"

"You haven't said yet if it's what you want. So the logistics are a bit premature, aren't they baby?"

"You know," she replied, frowning harder, "I can't figure you out at all. I think.. I mean, first it seems... Oh, crap, forget it."

He caught her by the hand, stopping her from walking away. "Oh no you don't. That is not allowed. Finish it."

"Finish what?" she asked, glaring at the hand holding her, and then at his face, meeting his eyes. She was breathing hard.

"What you started to say and then backed away from."

"Let go of me," she said trying to pull away from him.

His eyes narrowed. "I never took you for a coward," he said and let her go, heading for the sacristy.

"Wait," she pleaded.

He stopped and hesitated a moment before turning around.

She fell to her knees suddenly sobbing.

He swore, fluently and lifted her in his arms, cradling her against his chest, his lips caressing her hair while he whispered soothing nothings to her.

"Justin it can't work," she said in between sobs.

"Why's that?"

"Me. I'm.. I can't trust anyone. I want to, I just can't. You want that. You need that. I can't do that."

"You worry too much, angel. I know what you painted even if you don't." He kissed her hair again. "Ever had any kidnap fantasies?"

"No, of course not!" After a moment, "Why?"

He laughed. "You need to fix your face for the wedding. And isn't the maid of honor supposed to be glued to the bride's side?"

"Shit," Goldie muttered as he set her down. Then she was running toward the restroom.

Luc stuck his head into the room. "I hate to interrupt your lovemaking, brother, but the bride will be here in two minutes and Goldie needs to get out front."

"She's headed that way."

----------------

Despite everything the wedding went off without a hitch. Luc and Justin stood at the railing, while Justine, on Dane's arm, walked toward him, Goldie right in front of them.

Nobody flubbed the words, and Justin didn't lose the rings, and Goldie, despite the crying jag looked happy for her friend.

The SCA ushers didn't pull out any swords, and all retreated in fair order to the nearby restaurant where they'd have their reception.

Justin waited until they'd cut the cake and tossed the garter. Then he went to find her. "Having fun?"

"No," Goldie admitted. "I'll be relieved when its over. And if one more guy pinches my tush I'm not going to be responsible for the consequences."

Justin slipped and arm around her waist, his hand on the small of her back, leaning closer. "What if it's not a pinch?" he whispered, his hand sliding lower.

"We're in public," she reminded him. "Dance and you can get away with that. Maybe."

He pulled her against him. "I have a better idea. And I know Justine won't mind," he added as he picked her up and headed towards the door. When she started to protested he stopped her with his mouth, plunging his tongue between her lips and sliding it along the length of hers. When he let her breathe again he was settling her into the passenger seat of his car and fastening her seat belt. "No talking," he ordered.

"But," she began but at his look she quieted, although she turned very pale.

"Good girl," he said and went around and got in the car. Twenty minutes later they were at the house he shared with Luc. Or had shared. They'd made the drive in silence, his hand holding hers, his thumb tracing tiny circles on the inside of her wrist. When they were parked he gave her a look, freezing her in position and went around to open her door, undoing the seatbelt and extending a hand to help her out of the car. When she stood in front of him he brushed a kiss across her lips, then traced the lower one with the tip of his tongue. Then he lifted her in his arms again and carried her to the door.

"Keys are in my pocket. Open it."

She obliged. He could feel her trembling in his arms, her eyes wide and wild, and locked on his.

He rubbed his chin over her hair and let her see the desire in his eyes. He grinned when her nostrils flared wide as her eyes, the pupils dilating, and her trembling increased. "I'm going to make you scream. And then I'm going to make you beg me to do it again."

"Promises, promises. Maybe I'll be the one doing it to you," she dared. He laughed as he carried her through into his bedroom. "What, no champagne?" she asked.

"No need. I can promise you if you get thirsty, there'll be plenty for you drink."

She groaned. But started to undo his tie and attack the buttons on his shirt. "Are you sure about this?" she asked, stopping suddenly. "I'm not some temptation you'll be sorry about surrendering to in the morning?"

He set her on her feet and cupped her face with his hands, stroking her mouth with his thumbs.

Her lips trembled under his touch and tears sprung up in her eyes. "Justin..."

"I'm more worried about you regretting...Angel..." He kissed her, gently, a soft brush of his mouth over hers, slow enough that he felt the pulse throb in her lower lip. "I'm never letting you go, baby girl. Never. You're mine. The only woman in the universe I want or need."

"I've never loved anyone before. So I'm not sure... I mean.. I .. I'm afraid to need someone, Justin. And, God help me, I need you."

"I'll never hurt, baby. You have to know that. I'd gut myself before I did that."

"I know," she said quietly. "It's the universe that worries me. That something will happen, that.. you'll have to leave and I'll be... Never mind. Make love to me Justin."

"You still don't understand, do you?" He smiled ruefully. "I can't leave you. It isn't possible. We're a part of each other. You make me whole, complete. Without you...god, angel, without you I don't know how to breathe, let alone live."

"Justine said something. But I didn't understand it. She said she and Luc are joined. And that's how your people are. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to .. do anything. I don't want you because you have to, but because it's a choice."

"You didn't do anything. You just are...you, absolutely perfect and made for me."

She giggled. "Perfect? Me? Hardly. You however," she said as she ran her hands inside his shirt tracing the muscles, their definition, their beauty.

He stilled her hands, forcing her to look at him again. "Yes, Perfect. And if you put yourself down again, implying by doing so I'm both a liar and a fool, I'll tan your backside until you can't sit down for a week."

"I don't think you're either a liar or a fool. Just blinded by lust," she commented with a grin. "But I accept the rebuke and will attempt to avoid putting myself down in future."

"Good girl," he said. "What did Justine tell you?"

"Only that she and Luc could hear one another, you know, in their heads. That she knows he's all right, even if he isn't near her." She paused. "I asked her questions about it but she said she really couldn't explain it very well and that maybe you'd be better at explaining it. And.. I wasn't brave enough to ask you."

"That's part of it." He traced the curve of her cheek, as he thought about how to explain and, as always, some part of him marveled at how soft she was, how smooth and warm her skin felt. "I meant it, you know, when I said we were made for each other. Mates in every way. Soul and heart and mind and body."

He moved her back until she was sitting on the bed and he knelt in front of her, tall enough that even in that position he was eye to eye with her. "What's going to happen here is literally a mating, a bonding, that will tie us together for life. And given how my DNA will change yours that's going to be a very long time." He squeezed her hands. "I meant it. I'll never let you go. I'm a selfish bastard and I've no qualms about it."

She stared down at his hands, enveloping hers. His strong hands, yet always so gentle with her. "I don't care, you know. What happens to me. I mean, I trust you, Justin. I have for a long time. I just .... My brain was a bit slower at realizing it than my heart, that's all."

He tilted her face with his finger under her chin. "Then it's a good thing I care about what happens to you. I love you angel. I know it isn't easy for you to trust. The fact that you trust me..." He swallowed hard against the feelings she was conjuring up. "It's the most precious thing in the world to me."

"So.. what do I need to do?" she asked softly, as she met his eyes, steadily.

He slid his hands up over her rib cage, cupping her breasts. His thumbs brushed over her nipples and her gasp make him grin. "Whatever you like, baby. From what I can tell, you don't need lessons from me."

Her eyes narrowed. "You seem fairly well-versed yourself. So, I guess we should just do what comes naturally then. And when you are so exhausted you fall asleep next to me, I'll get out my sketch pad."

"I can see we're going to need a house with a lot of wall space."

"Can you afford me?" she teased.

"Hell no. You're going to have support us. But don't worry about it. You'll have people lining up to buy your used brushes, let alone your paintings." He laughed. "Now you know the terrible truth. I only want you for your art."

"Well, I'll do my best to make enough to put beans and franks on the table. And if I'm with you, I won't care if we're poor."

"Will you care if we're rich?"

She frowned. "I don't want money to spoil things. It does. Too often."

He sighed, deep and melodramatic. "Then I'll have to find a worthy charity for all of mine. And we'll have to give away your paintings."

"Well, all the ones I do of you naked I'm keeping regardless," she replied. "Then, when we're both old and gray we can look at them and remember tonight."

"Lots of wall space," he reiterated.

"Oh shut up and make love to me."

"Absolutely perfect," he crowed and then obliged her. Until long after dawn.

---------

Goldie came awake slowly. Every muscle in her body ached, but they were aches she cherished. As she made her way toward awareness, she sensed something. It was like a warm smile, or a hand on her shoulder. It was like cocoa on a cold morning, or a hot buttered rum shared in front of a fire on a snowy night. But it wasn't any of those things. It was something in her head.

She examined it, tried to name it and couldn't. She found the beginning of it and traced it until it drifted off outside her head and led her right to Justin, who slept the sleep of the just next to her.

She poked the thread that lead to him and was rewarded with a smile.

"That's it, huh?" she asked. "The bond thing? Can you use it to read my mind?"

"Or you mine," he said.

"Well, that's going to be embarrassing then," she muttered. "Can you see in there how much I love you?"

He nodded. "It's better than sex, or fighting or even football, being able to wrap myself up in it."

"Yeah?" she asked. "Better even than playing with swords?"

"No question."

"Luc will never forgive me," she replied sadly, brushing hair off his forehead. "Will your mom forgive me for.. for ... will your family be okay with this?"

"They can't wait to meet you," he said, spooning her against him. "And don't worry about Luc. The only thing he's interested in is Justine."

Goldie pulled away from him a little, to better look at him. "You told your family about me?" She looked mildly panicked.

He laughed. "It'll be fine, sweetheart. They'll adore you just like I do."

"Oh, God. Justine is so much better at the meet the parents thing than I've ever been. And your father's going to be this stern guy who's going to frown down at me, isn't he."

"Nope. He's more likely to drag you into a studio and demand you paint while he watches and makes sure you eat and drink and stretch at appropriate intervals. And when the light goes, he'll keep you there talking about art."

"I am terrified of this, you know," she confessed. "I don't do well with change, in case you haven't noticed. I'm sure your family will be wonderful. Really I am. I'm just... I'll be fine. I'll be with you, after all."

"We'll take it as slow as you want angel. However you want."

She tickled the forming bond a moment, then frowned. "So, can I paint your daddy nude?"

Justin eyed her. "Is this a trick question? Some sort of feminine test?"

Goldie giggled. "Just a question. I always feel a lot better about men when I know they're just, you know, men. Okay, maybe a portrait?"

"And painting them lets you know they're just men how?"

"It's hard to explain. But, you know, they have flaws and weaknesses and strengths and dreams. Getting them out from behind the protective shielding, so to speak, that clothes give you. Even just a head shot tells me a lot about someone," she added, tracing the lines at the edges of his eye. "If they smile a lot, or frown all the time."

"God. We need to turn you loose on Luc's family," he said, fascinated. "Paint the truth about them and it'll be a bloodless revolution."

"Revolution?" she asked.

"Long story, angel face. Long story."

Goldie frowned. "We won't be at odds with Luc and Justine, will we?"

"Hardly. Luc's always on the side of the angels."

She giggled. "Does he know that?'

"He's too busy trying to do the right thing. He knows what his family's like but he's honorable."

"Poor Luc. Poor Justine."

"No worries. Justine will take care of everything. And she's going to love every minute of it."

"Yeah, that she will. And, whatever happens, I've a feeling I will too."

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THE END - At least for now...

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