As I bid good night to Julia, I try to be just a little more detached than I really would prefer to be. I don't want her to know I see how fragile she looks. Her arms are folded tightly across her chest while she perches on the comfy chair, a weak smile on her lips. The poor girl's so wan, and her eyes are brimming with unhappiness.

Granted, Julia's in much better condition than she was two hours ago, but that wouldn't be a hard transition. Two hours ago she was disintegrating. At least she's holding herself together better. Though it's their private matter, I wonder what happened. I can't ask, though. That's too much information, and I know more than enough already anyhow. But one thing is sure: Miss Samuels is hurting inside- and being the sort of girl who has had the luxury of never having really been hurt before, there's no telling what shape her heart is in.

Well, what do you know, I think to myself as I walk down the hall. She really is Sammy. Wonder if I should have told her that she's more or less found her way into a song of mine...

Veronica is under the covers, waiting for me. I undress for bed, then slip in beside her.

"She'll be all right," I whisper confidently.

"Did you give her the phone-thing?" she asks. "The Relic?"

"Not yet. I was going to let Freddie do the honors." I turn out the lamp and settle in, putting my arms around my wife. "He smashed it, he can return it."

"You're a very nice man," she murmurs with a smile.

I walk my fingers up her bare arm and growl against her neck, "Sometimes..."

With a little giggle she turns over and reaches for me. Veronica doesn't have to do much to arouse me- and I never have to work too hard to get her in the mood. It's always been this way, and I love it. More specifically, I love her.

That's the thing about touring. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not Freddie. That man was born on the stage. He lives to perform, and performs to live. And I can understand, to a degree. The rush of attention, the heat of the spotlights, the power of the applause- it's all very nice, and thrilling while it lasts. But more than the others, I see Queen as a job- and tours are basically business trips, except they last over two months at a time- and there's a lot more glitter and alcohol. Tours also mean I'm too far away from her, and they always seem to come around too quickly, so I savor every moment my wife and I are together.

To have someone you care that much about- it's a true gift.

We are just finishing making love when I hear the front door open and close.

"There she goes," I murmur, still a little breathless.

"Mmmm..." my wife sighs. "Wonder where..."

"She's going to be a nun," I say softly. "At least, that's my understanding."

Veronica frowns. "She told you that?"

"She said she was going to go to Bath, there's an abbey there. I dunno, do nuns live in abbeys?"

"Not anymore, I don't think. Perhaps. What's she want to be a nun for?"

I shrug, running my hand along the curve of her body. "People will do crazy things to feel safe."

"But what about the Relic?"

"What about it?"

"Well, you could have given it to her, and then she wouldn't feel like she had to go be a nun."

"Freddie would have my head if I did that. I promised him he'd be the one."

That, Veronica understands perfectly. She knows Freddie well, having been the wife of Queen's bass player for two and a half years- and she's quite acquainted with his temper.

After a moment she says, "I'm still confused, is she his girlfriend or something?"

I have not yet told Veronica that Julia is from the future. Somehow, I don't see that ever coming up. For now I simply say, "I dunno. I really don't."

"Do you think he cares for her?"

"I dunno."

She yawns. "Yes, but you must have a hunch."

"There's something there. I just don't know how deep it really goes. I keep going back to that night at the club. He seemed to care a lot then. And this morning..."

"Well, then, you should probably put something on," Veronica says, smiling.

"Why?"

"Because if he does care, he will look for her- and that means he'll pay a call on us."

"It's past midnight," I muse. "He might, but who knows."

I'm torn between hoping he does come by, for Julia's sake, and hoping he doesn't, for my own. I don't mind playing the crying shoulder, but tonight I'd rather not also act as referee. What's more, I don't want to get out of bed. I haven't been sleeping so well lately, I'd like to catch up on it tonight. Freddie's little fury trips last more than a day anyway; most likely it will be a while before he rounds up a search party- assuming that's even what he plans to do.

Suddenly some maniac speeds wildly past our place; outside my window I can hear that bothersome squawk of wet rubber tires skidding to a stop. I hope he doesn't spin out and bust one of my front windows. That would be irritating. Thankfully, all is silent, and there's no shattering sound toward the front.

Speaking of the front, I should probably check and see if Julia locked the door. She might have forgotten. So with a half-annoyed grunt I swing myself over the side of the bed and put on my dressing gown.

"Where are you going?" Veronica asks sleepily.

"Checking the front door. Be back straight away."

Back down the hall I walk, rubbing my eyes and muttering to myself. I remember the days when I used to sleep like a baby, no interruptions. They seem so far away now.

I'm sleepy and a little out of it, so I actually turn the lock the other way, unlocking it. When I turn the knob for good measure, the door swings open. Softly cursing my slowness, my head lowered, I start to close the door again when I see the pair of feet standing there on the wet doormat. Very slowly my gaze drifts up to the person's face to see the unmistakable, gaunt curve of the cheeks, two hooded eyes wide with surprise, and a fist raised as if about to knock.

"Oh," he says, caught off guard. "Hello."

"Freddie, what are you doing here?" I mumble. But inside, I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from laughing. My guess is, he'd been standing there for a minute, trying to decide whether to go ahead and knock. I suppose I chose for him.

"Uh... well, um..." he stutters, lowering his hand. "Well, I was sort of in the neighborhood, so, um... I thought I'd stop by and, uh... say hello."

"You've said hello," I nod.

"Mm-hm."

"Would you like to come in?"

"No, no, I just- uh-"

The large man that is his driver rushes up behind Freddie and puts his hand on his shoulder. "Freddie-"

"GAH!" he shouts, and whirls. "Rudy! My God! Don't do that!"

"Sorry, sorry, but I-"

"It's fine, it's fine, just a moment, okay?"

"But, sir, I s-"

"I told you, stop with the f---ing 'sir' this and 'sir' that."

"I-"

"Could you just go wait in the car? I'll be right back."

Rudy opens his mouth again, then sighs. "Yes, Freddie." And obediently he lumbers back to the Rolls.

"You're getting all wet, man, you certain you don't want to step in and chat?" I say again.

Freddie mulls this a moment, squints above my head, looking for something, then his face relaxes. "All right, it is a bit damp out here."

And he walks in, stepping into the half-light. I try not to react. The man is speckled with raindrops, and he seems strung tighter than normal. He's pale, his face looking unusually taut. His expression itself, though, is rather blank. I know what he's here for, it's so obvious, but still I play it cool. We have Julia to think of, after all.

"Drink?" I say as he shakes off his jacket.

"No thanks," he says.

"Right. So what's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm, uh- oh, well actually, now that you mention it, I think I- oh, also, the Relic, do you have it?"

"Uh, not on me," I say evasively. "Did you want it now?"

"I can wait, I don't need it right this minute," he murmurs. "But- I actually think I may have left something here last time I- came by."

"Oh yes? What was it?"

"Um... my sunglasses, I think," he fumbles. "After the Heatwave, maybe."

"We didn't stop here, you two went straight home."

"Didn't we?" Freddie asks.

"No."

"Oh. I just seem to remember being here with my sunglasses at one point, and then not having them."

"They must be very nice sunglasses."

"Sentimentally speaking," he explains. "They look nice, too."

Freddie stands there, waiting for the offer. It's becoming so hard for me to stay blase. He actually thinks I might be hiding her!

Finally I ask the magic question. "Did you want to peek around and-"

"If you wouldn't mind," he sighs. "I'll only be a moment."

"Be my guest," I reply, giving over the privacy of my humble abode. Freddie walks down the hall and peers into the rooms he finds there. When he peeks into Robert's nursery he almost turns on the light, which sends me flying towards him.

"Hey! The baby's sleeping! Careful!" I hiss.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he mutters, taking his hand off the light switch. His eyes fall on Robert's crib, where the little boy is sleeping soundly.

He looks at me, and I shrug and nod. Freddie walks further into the nursery, peers over the edge of the crib. I smile to myself, walking in after him. Despite wanting to be free and unchained, the wildest in the bunch (a title that he and Roger constantly compete for), he's quite good with kids. It's a part of himself he doesn't show too often, but he has always been very sweet to Robert.

"Hm," he hums to himself. "Do they all sleep like that?"

"What?"

"On their stomachs."

"He does," I say. "Don't know what other kids do."

Freddie nods, still staring at my son. "He looks like his mum."

"Thank God," I chuckle.

"F---, John, get some ego," he snickers, then becomes serious again in the next split second. "He's beautiful. You're very lucky."

He pats the side of the crib and turns away, walking out. I wonder what made him say that last bit the way he did. It almost sounded wistful. Or maybe I'm just bleary and tired. Shaking my head, I follow him.

Freddie walks briefly into the kitchen but again comes away unsuccessful in his search for the, ahem, sunglasses. His shoulders seem to be sagging, though he does tend to hunch anyway and his shoulders aren't exactly broad. I need to stop reading too much into this, but there's such a lot to take in.

"I guess I didn't leave them here," he says. "Sorry for keeping you up." Freddie strides back into the parlor. He picks up his jacket to put it on.

"Not at all, I was asleep anyway," I reply clumsily. "Hope you find them."

"Yeah," he replies. He's just sliding his arm into the vinyl jacket when his eyes alight on the empty glass by the comfy chair. Freddie's eyes narrow a little, and he walks towards it. What's he thinking?

He lifts the glass and looks at it with a sharp, discerning eye, then lifts it to his nose and takes a whiff.

"Vodka," he whispers. Freddie looks at me, his eyes suddenly frosty. "You don't drink vodka."

A look of guilt flashes across my face, for a single breath- but Freddie doesn't miss much. Certainly not when he's on the hunt. His eyes narrow even more until they're black, glaring slits full of rage.

"She was here, wasn't she?" he whispers.

I frown as if I don't understand. "Who?"

Oh, bad move.

"She. Was. Here." His voice rises. "She was here- and YOU WEREN'T GO-"

"Quiet!" I hiss. "Robert!"

So now he's hissing too, and somehow it takes the bite right out of his tone. "You weren't going to tell me!"

"Tell you what?"

"You were just going to let me walk out the door and- How long ago did she get here?"

"I dunno, about ten?"

"When'd she leave?"

"I dunno!"

"You're protecting her!" he snarls. "F---ing tell me!"

"I seriously don't know, Freddie! I went to bed and she left on her own time!"

Veronica appears in the hallway, squinting in confusion. "Sounds like trash-talking tomcats down here."

"Hello, Veronica," Freddie mutters. "Didn't mean to wake you."

She looks at him, her lips pursed to fight back a smile. "It's all right. Just-"

"I know, Robert," he nods.

"What's all this about, Freddie?" I ask, folding my arms.

"Oh, didn't she tell you?" he scoffs. "Did she keep it short and shocking, or did she give you the works?"

"Freddie, I genuinely don't know what you're on about," I say.

"The hell you don't. What kind of demon did she make me out to be? I'd really love to know. Do I have horns? Claws? Fangs? Well, actually, that would be the go-to-"

"Freddie, she didn't say anything of the sort, she was -she was scared and mixed up. Although she did sort of, um-"

"What?"

"She, uh, basically called you a vampire." Why I tell him this, I have no idea.

"How clever," Freddie snorts, then plops down dramatically on the comfy chair where Julia had been nestling. He rubs his face. "God. What a bitch. What ill wind blew her my way, I wonder?"

I shrug. "Well, look on the bright side. She's gone now."

"Gone?" Freddie looks up. "Where did she go?"

"What do you care, Freddie?" It's Veronica who's saying this, her voice deceptively casual. "She's a bitch."

Freddie glares at her. "I only ask," he explains coldly, "because she has something that belongs to me. And I want it back."

"She stole from you?" I frown.

"Not really, she just- there's something I probably shouldn't have made quite so accessible, and she has it." He suddenly becomes very quiet, eyes widening. "But what did you mean, she's 'gone'?"

"She went away. Very likely for good."

I expect him to shrug, say something like "Good riddance," and dust off his hands while walking to the door, head held high. But he looks at me like I just sentenced him to ninety-nine years in prison. His hands clench, and I'm almost nervous.

"You gave it to her, didn't you?" he whispers.

I squint. "Huh?"

"She asked for it and you gave her the thi- the Relic. You did! Didn't you?" His voice is shaking.

"Freddie, what happened tonight?"

"STOP changing the f---ing subject! She's gone, isn't she? You let her go! I-"

"The Relic is in my car, Fred," I interrupt him. "I know exactly what I promised you, I haven't forgotten." I'm utterly stunned at how he's acting. It's almost like he...

But Freddie's no fool. He recovers quickly, and again becomes aloof. "Ah, that's good. I'd hate to think she just made off with something of mine, and there's no way I can get it back." After a moment, he adds, "So where did she go, then?"

"I don't know exactly," I say.

"Do you know roughly?"

I open my mouth, but I don't know how to answer. If I tell Freddie, I run the risk of betraying Julia. And if I don't tell Freddie, there's a chance I may not live to see the morning (just kidding- but in all seriousness, there's no telling what shape we'd both be in once the dust cleared). Either way, I cheese someone off. Damn it all, I AM a referee!

Fortunately, Freddie's feeling like guessing. "Wait, don't tell me, she's off to a nunnery, isn't she?"

"Well, uh, yes, actually," I reply.

He rolls his eyes. "Why am I not surprised. That would make her happy."

"She wasn't worried about being happy so much as being safe."

"Safe from what?" Freddie asks quietly. The room goes silent for a few seconds, and then he guesses again, just as accurately. "Safe from me?"

"She probably didn't mean it like that," I blurt.

"But that's what she said, wasn't it, John?"

"Almost."

"So what did she say?"

"She- she said, uh-"

"I'm not going to go berserk, John, just tell me."

The words stream coolly from my throat, and I don't realize how it sounds until all has been spoken. "Julia said it was the one place she knew you wouldn't go."

Freddie just sits there, looks down at his lap a moment, hands folded. His expression is impossible to read. His mouth twitches, my wife and I just stand there trading uneasy glances, and the silence borders on deafening.

Veronica's the bravest one of all; she breaks it. "What are you going to do when you find her?"

"When I find her?" Freddie says in a bored voice. "Whatever would give you the idea I'm even looking for her?"

"You're the one who wants to know where she went. So you must want to fi-"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Freddie mutters. "It's what she took from me, I want. But Julia herself? If I never see her again, it'll be too soon."

Her lips purse in frustration. She's tired, as am I, but she has a temper, and when she's sleepy, it's much quicker than normal. "You mean to tell me you came all the way down here just to wake us up and say how glad you are that she's not coming back?"

Freddie blinks. "Well, look, uh-"

"It's as simple as this, Freddie," she cuts him off. "Either you're glad she's gone, and you're more than willing to take your joy and freedom home with you and celebrate there so we can catch a few winks ourselves- or, you want to be a man and actually apologize to her and maybe mend things between you two, perhaps. Either way, pull your head out of your ass and make a choice!"

I stare at her, jaw slack. Freddie's quite impressed himself; his eyes are wide, his brows creasing his forehead. It's a little embarrassing, personally; my wife has more spunk than I do. She blinks, then realizes what she's just said to him. She swallows.

"Um, yes, well, I'm just going back to bed now, so, good night, boys," she murmurs, then tiptoes down the hall. The bedroom door closes behind her.

Freddie blinks again. "You know, I really like her."

I nod. "I'm a lucky fellow."

His brows come together again. "She's right; I should go, there's no reason I should keep you two up any longer." Freddie pushes off the chair and stands.

"You going home?" It's as subtle a question I can muster that literally means, "Are you still going to search for her?"

"I don't know," he murmurs. "So Eve- I mean, Julia's off to the abbey. All right. She'll be happier there."

"You think so?"

"By contrast, yes," Freddie whispers. "She'll be as far away from me as she likes. Even if she had that f---ing Passport, that's what she'd do. Bury herself alive before she'd spend one more minute with me."

"Freddie, you don't know that," I begin. "She was just a little freaked out, she'll come ba-"

"John, she hates me," he snaps. "I'm just a lab rat- her assigned basket case. She even said, and I quote, 'You're a monster and I hate you.' It doesn't get anymore to the point than that!"

This sounds familiar. I decide not to tell Freddie that Julia was convinced that it was he who hated her.

"And you know what," Freddie continues, "it's actually not at all a bad thing that she's gone. We're both better off. She will have her cloister, and I will have my life back. Julia was a distraction, that's all she's any good at being. I am glad she's gone."

I don't say anything.

"I really am!" he goes on. "Do you