In the Year of the Cat (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

58. One More Night

We didn't spend much more time at the Deacons'.  It was getting late, and we didn't want to push the envelope too much, overstay our welcome.  What was more, I was fairly sure Freddie had drunk a little too much wine and vodka (it's so dangerous to mix one's alcohol), for he had started talking even more nonsensically than usual: making obscure references to some Japanese "ceremony," joking about going to Harrods and buying eleven children ("five mini-mes and six-mini-yous"), laughing heartily at pretty much anything anyone said.  Not that I particularly minded.  I much preferred him tipsily merry, as opposed to sober and mortified.  

I would, however, have liked to say more to John- I came so close to telling him what I was planning to do.  It would have been excellent practice in case I could actually summon up the courage to tell Freddie.  But instead, I had to resort to a brief (and in retrospect, rather confusing) note on the back of one of our pictures, which I gave John as I kissed him good night. 

As we pulled away, John seemed to follow us for a few paces, as though he too wanted to say something.  Nevertheless, his hands stayed down by his sides, his lips sealed.  I waved into the rear window, but we were turning the corner by that point, so he likely missed it.

One more night with Freddie remained- a night that in many ways would be the sweetest, and in countless others would go down as the most heartbreaking yet.  For as weak and emotional as I had become, I'd indeed made up my mind, chosen my path: I had chosen the Relic, the way out, just as I had in my magenta dream.  Life over love.  The hard part, however, would be sticking to it until noon tomorrow- which more than likely meant there would be no wild, intense love-making later. 

That was my initial plan, anyway.

Maybe, if I was lucky, the Relic might have already exhausted all its battery power before we came home.  Then I would be deprived- and yet, spared- making this choice, and I could resign myself to being stuck in the past, as I had before Freddie gave it back to me.  One option was much easier than two. 

God, why did I have to be so stubborn?  If I had been wearing my tracker this morning, if I had been obedient, I wouldn't have to go through tonight.  But no!  I had to be Freddie about it.  And now I will probably have to tell him.  But how?  HOW? 

I had to let this go for the moment, if I was to make the most of my few precious hours left.  Besides, there was no way I could possibly break it to him before we got home-

Stop calling it home, stupid!  I berated myself.  That'll only make it worse!

Unhappily I twiddled with the ring on my thumb, eyes on my lap.

"Darling, are you," Freddie gasped facetiously, "wearing earrings?"

Up, mask. 

I smiled, hand rising to my ears.  "Rudy gave them to me.  Aren't they lovely?"

"I think they're Cartier stock," he said, peering closer.  "I've seen these before.  Yes, quite beautiful- a wonderful choice, dear!"

"Rudy has excellent taste," I agreed.  "Thank you again, Mr. Barnes!"

Rudy adjusted his rear view mirror so he could make eye contact with me, and winked.  He whistled innocently while keeping his eyes focused on the road. After a moment I realized he was whistling a much faster, bouncier version of a tune called "It Was Almost Like a Song."

I laughed.  "That isn't Ronnie Milsap you're whistling, is it?"

Rudy shrugged, clamming up.  "I, uh- perhaps."

"Where'd you hear that song?"

"Heard it a few times while we were knocking about in America- and it played earlier on your little device, so-"