I don't know how he did it, personally- how he made such total surrender so delicious. I could never tire of the way Freddie would take me. There was a forcefulness in his manner, a hunger that just couldn't be satiated fast enough.

But this last time, I noticed a difference. Much of the violence, it seemed, was lacking. Freddie took it slow and gentle, as though he was well aware of how sensitive I was this morning- yet at the same time, it was unbearably emotional, and I could taste the love on his lips, feel it tingling against my body as I held him. But the steadier pace didn't keep us from reaching a peak, as we brought each other to perhaps not the highest, but definitely the sweetest, climax yet. It didn't feel like some animal mating ritual, the half-crazed onslaught of earlier. We were literally making love- and it was beautiful.

The next thirty minutes or so passed in a warm blur; it was always such a struggle to clear my head after sex. We said some foolish, lovey-dovey things to each other, I know, things that look even more ridiculous when typed out, so I'll leave it to you to decide what exactly was spoken. I did end up having to take another shower, but not alone; we helped each other wash up, but only in the interest of time, it was absolutely not because I couldn't keep my hands off of him. (Yeah, I don't believe me either...)

While Freddie fixed his hair and took his time trying to decide what to wear, I trotted downstairs to fix some tea and get breakfast started; I was far too sore to slide down the banister. He would be leaving in about another hour, so I had to get a move on. I wished he didn't have to go to work today. True, I didn't want to smother him, but I also didn't want to let him out of my sight. Whatever time here I had left, I wanted to spend it with my prince.

In retrospect, things might have turned out very, very differently if Freddie hadn't gone to Wessex Studios that morning. Everything is much clearer in hindsight, so clear it's almost ironic.

But as I was saying...

I poured a cup of tea for Freddie, fixing it up just the way he liked, then headed upstairs to bring it to him while he was getting dressed. But the door was closed when I reached the top. I raised my hand to knock, when I heard him speaking in a soft voice over the phone. Lowering my fist, I put my ear to the door and listened closer.

"...Have to see you tonight, if you're free," Freddie was murmuring. "It's important."

I frowned. See who?

But I didn't stay there. I'd done enough snooping already, and all it brought me was trouble. I went back down to finish what I was doing- but not without a little side speculation.

All through cooking breakfast I practiced wearing my mask, so that Freddie wouldn't see my thoughts when he finally did come downstairs. He was still on the phone in our bedroom (Did I just say "our" bedroom?)- with whom, I couldn't tell- when I heard a knock outside. I blinked in surprise when I opened the door. While Rudy was never late, he was also never this premature.

"Hi, Rudy!" I said with a smile. "You're so early today!"

He did not smile back. "May I come in?"

"Of course!" I let the big man into the flat. "You're just in time for tea."

But he shook his head, mouth pressed in a straight, hard line. One of the cats- I think it was Tom- padded over and nuzzled his leg. Usually Rudy would at least run his hand over the cat's back, but today he flatly ignored the affection, in fact seemed rather annoyed by it. I let all three of the cats out, as they'd just eaten and were ready to roam before sleeping another ten hours on the sofa.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. "I've just about finished making breakfast. We got toast, we got sausage, we got tomatoes- and eggs, which reminds me, how do you like yours?"

"I've already eaten, thank you."

His demeanor startled me. Rudy was behaving much the same way as he had when I'd first met him. I thought we'd worked past whatever misgivings he'd had about me. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yes, I'm well."

"You're acting like something is bothering you."

He shrugged. "Not really."

"Is Clarence sick?"

"This isn't about my turtle." His voice was getting testy.

"All right, then, so what is 'this'?" I pressed.

Rudy drew a heavy sigh, then looked steadily into my eyes. "I know what you're going to do, Julia."

I squinted, and my insides felt a little queasy. Before I could ask what he was talking about, Freddie's voice pierced the silence: "WEEEEEEEEEEE ARE THE CHAMP-IONS, MY FRI-END..."

"Somebody's ready for action," I chirped, turning to him.

"I'm always ready for action," Freddie crooned as he swooped into the kitchen with all the showy theatrics of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom. "And weeee'll keep on fight-in' till the end- God, I feel so good. I must have had a fan-tas-tic night."

"Must have," I smiled. "Can you eat, or are you too high for that?"

"Pass up a hearty breakfast? Perish the thought!" He flitted toward me and kissed my cheek. "Ah, good morning, Rudy, how is the little reptile?"

Rudy turned bright red. The poor guy couldn't get a rest. "He's fine."

"Marvelous," Freddie sighed, just a tad absently. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a pen and a calendar book, marking something down. Perhaps a note about whoever it is he's meeting. Wonder if it's any of the Big Three-

I cut myself off. It was eight-fifteen, a little less than four hours before the choice. Now was not the time for suspicious minds.

Breakfast went too fast- or maybe it just felt that way. Rudy did give in a little, allowed me to pour him a cup of tea, and he watched Freddie and me quietly as we ate. When Freddie felt good, he felt like talking, so he talked. Not that he was prattling on and on about himself, but he was excited about work that day, as Queen were going to really dig into "Champions," and he had all these ideas and plans forging together in his head, not excluding that sexual motif he'd dreamed up only yesterday which he could just feel in his bones had some real potential. Not only that, but next week Freddie would have to zigzag between studios, as Straker would be needing his producing skills on his own album. Good Lord, was he busy lately.

"By the way, darling, when can we expect you?" Freddie suddenly asked.

I blinked. "Expect me?"

He took one last bite out of his toast. "You said you wanted to be there for 'We Are the Champions.' When were you planning to crash us?"

"Why?"

"Because I want to know how many minutes I have to count until I get to see you."

I folded my arms. "Uh-huh. When do you think I should come by?"

"Half-past noon, perhaps. I can have Rudy pick you up at twelve, or earlier depending on how bad the roads are."

I gulped. Noon? But that's when they're going to call!

"I mean," Freddie added, catching the look on my face, "did you have other plans already?"

Damage control! "Not really, no. Might, um- do a little more scouting for a job this afternoon."

Freddie rolled his eyes. "Can't you do that later tonight?"

I laughed. "Freddie, the more of your day I take up, the faster you shall tire of me. Why tonight instead of this afternoon?"

"Because I may be a bit late coming home," he explained. "I've, um- got a little extra something I must attend to this evening."

I know.

"But I still want to see you later today, so, I mean- you could save it for later. Besides," he added, "you can't really get a job here yet anyhow."

I picked up his cleaned plate with a satisfied smile. Well, how about that. He ate all his food.

(By this point I'd caught on to how much Freddie would eat depending on the portion sizes. So many practical applications for psychology.)

"I can't?" I asked, putting the dishes in the sink.

"No. All you have is a counterfeit Passport from the wrong country. We'll have to get in touch with Sharon's PA, see if he can get his friend to cook up a fake visa, a fake birth certificate, or whatever else you would need."

"I know, and thank you, it's just- my God," I realized. "I'm so illegal."

"Well, you ought to be, my dear," Freddie muttered slyly, getting out of his chair.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "But what if we get caught?"

"We won't get caught. Darling, you don't even exist yet, as far as they're concerned. You're a blank slate; here, you can be anything you want to be- and I want to help you do it."

"And that I still do not understand," I sighed.

"What?"

"The why."

"The why of what?"

"Why you decided to be so kind to me- why you decided to fall in love with me-"

"Decided?" Freddie shook his head. "Darling, love isn't a sort of voluntary- it's not a conscious choice. It just happens. It just hits you, in the most mysterious ways, the strangest thing could set it off. That's why it's called falling in love, I think."

I cocked my head, curious. "Go on."

"When you fall, you're not trying to hit the ground. It happens on accident. You trip, stumble, whatever. But when it really happens, it happens without anybody really trying. Love is very annoying like that."

"Like what?" I smiled. "There's no control, you mean?"

Freddie's eyes gleamed. "You could say that."

"I think you're right," I agreed, walking closer to him. "That's very annoying."

"Mm-hm," he nodded. "Extremely."

"Well, then, never mind why," I went on softly. "Do you know what strange thing turned you on to me?"

Freddie smiled. "Actually, I do."

"What happened?"

He opened his mouth, about to answer, when his eyes drifted to the clock, and he stopped himself before he started. "I'll tell you later today. Be right back, I, uh- left something upstairs." Freddie darted out of the kitchen and up the steps.

"What?"

"My flat keys," he called back. "Good Lord, you're nosy."

Everybody's got something to hide except for me and my Relic.

Speaking of secrets, Rudy still hadn't spoken since Freddie asked him about Clarence the turtle- and what he said about knowing what I was going to do bothered me extensively. He was such a wise man, it made me wonder; had he caught on to my dilemma when Freddie hadn't even noticed?

The chauffeur was standing nearby; I turned to him and whispered, "Rudy, what's wrong?"

Rudy shrugged. "Nothing."

"What did you mean, you know what I'm going to do?" I asked.

He nodded. "Oh, that."

"Do about what?"

"Julia, if the question is even bothering you, you know what I mean."

"Any cryptic comment is going to bother me," I countered. "That doesn't necessarily mean anything in particular."

He just looked me over, shaking his head. "I'll be honest, I've been dreading today. I knew it was coming, always did, but now that it's here- I wish I could fix it so that what's coming doesn't have to happen." Rudy sighed, then put his hand in his jacket pocket. "But I suppose it does."

I frowned. "Rudy, you're confusing me."

But even now, he refused to explain. "Here," he whispered. "Take this."

Rudy placed the fortune cookie he had saved from dinner into my palm. This wasn't helping.

"Can I open it?" I asked.

"No, not yet," he shook his head. "After you've made up your mind- and there's no going back, whatever road you choose- open it."

"You do know!" I exclaimed.

And then the tiniest of smiles flickered on his lips. "I," he sighed, "know a lot of things."

A light went off in the back of my head. Something was terribly off here, and I was only just now realizing it. All this time, I took it for granted that Rudy had never been mentioned by name in any Queen account I had read, was never interviewed, was never pointed out by anyone (except once, possibly, in the "Is This Man a Prat?" interview, there's a reference to a nameless "intimidating bulk of muscle" present)- but wasn't it really rather strange that he should never have come up at all? He was everywhere and everything Freddie needed him to be- and yet nothing was ever spoken of him.

"Rudy," I said softly. "Who are you?"

He smiled and bowed slightly. "Just a common driver, madam- who wishes you the best of luck."

"Right, I'd better head out now," Freddie said, rushing down the stairs. "I'll see you at noon, right?"

He went into the kitchen fro something, but I was too distracted to really notice. "Right."

"Good." Freddie stuffed the thing into a pocket, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Then come on, Rudy, let's go. See you, darling!"

They were filing out the door when I suddenly unfroze, and my head cleared. Freddie was leaving. A little over three hours remained. This could have been the last time I ever touched him. And that was the most pathetic goodbye kiss in the whole long sordid history of goodbye kisses.

I'd soon fix that.

Feet flying, I burst through the front door, following them out. "Wait! Freddie, hold on!"

Freddie whirled around, arms folded in a pout. "I was wondering when you'd wake-" he began, before I more or less tackled him, throwing my arms around his neck and hugging him so tightly I was surprised he could still breathe. Within seconds he wrapped his arms around me, lifting me a little off the ground. I don't know how long we stood there, pressing our faces into each other's necks and making Rudy wait, but it wasn't long enough to suit me.

Filling my lungs with his wonderful, rousing scent, that familiar licorice and cologne, I drew away a little, relaxing my hold on him. Perhaps I should have told him everything in that moment, told him what those dreadful people from home expected me to do in a few hours' time. But I didn't. I just stared at him. What a beautiful face he had, with beautiful eyes that served as windows to his beautiful, tragic soul. I know it now just like I knew it then.

I could not live without this man by my side.

Freddie smiled. "Darling, what is it?"

"Nothing," I whispered. "I just- love to look at you."

His brows knit a little above those dark, melting gems. "You are coming this afternoon, aren't you?"

I blinked, hesitating just a moment, searching for the right words to say. And then, this came out: "If Rudy arrives before or right at noon today, I'll come. If he arrives later, I'll- have to wait to see you later. Okay?"

"Sounds fair," he agreed, calling behind him, "Rudy, dear, don't fail me today."

Rudy nodded, but his face seemed to darken. Freddie missed this; he had his back to him. But I didn't. All of a sudden I wanted to open that stupid fortune cookie. Oh, how I hated reading through this mystery novel with its last page torn out!

But then Freddie looked back down at me, smile vanishing. The emotions in his eyes were so strong that a smile wouldn't have fit anyway.

And he whispered, "I'll come home as soon as I can tonight- I don't think I can keep dodging this any longer. I'm pushing my luck as is, I know."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see," he said quietly. "Have you one more kiss for your prince?"

I balked a moment, then shut my eyes, leaned forward, and kissed him. Time stood still- I know that seems such a generic, cliche thing to say, but it truly did, for us. Our eyes were shut, our lips pressed close against each other's, while all else in the entire universe came to screeching halt. If I could save a moment, and live it over and over again, it would be that last kiss.

Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got till it's gone.

Very slowly, the world began turning again, and Freddie gradually pulled away and slipped into the car. I watched him closely. I wanted to forget nothing, no matter what.

Just before the Rolls drove away, leaving me alone on the sidewalk, Freddie leaned out and winked. "See you in a few, darling."

I nodded and waved.  I love you, Freddie.

Then he disappeared into the Silver Shadow, which pulled away and rolled down the street, further and further away from me until it turned the corner and vanished.

I wanted to cry.

TO BE CONTINUED...