Opening

The invitations had gone out a month ago and the calls from people who had not been included had started the day after the stiff envelopes had been delivered. It was, as they say, the hottest ticket in town and was shaping up to be the social event of the year.

His Imperial Highness, His Excellency, The Ambassador from the Kingdom of Atlantis to the United Nations would have given blood not to have to attend. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option. "I loathe wearing these things. I always feel like I'm on display."

"You are on display, but you do it so very well, and you look wonderful. If I'd known how you would look in your robes, I'd have made you model them for me before this."

His only reply was a filthy look; if he were Roy the response would have been a simple 'bite me'.

Garth was dressed in the high formal robes considered suitable for a Prince of the Realm. They basically consisted of a loosely fitted floor length garment in a rich dark green over a black high-necked velvet shirt. The robe appeared to be embellished with rich lashings of heavy lace until you were close enough to see that the lace actually consisted of tens of thousands of seed pearls embroidered to abstractly suggest the pattern of breaking waves and foam all down the front and around the hem as high as the knees. It weighed a ton.

It was incredible

A four inch wide gold belt, worked and inlayed with precious and semi-precious gems, belted the robe. The garment was topped by a heavy, wide gold and jewel inlayed collar, such as one might see in the Egyptian section of a museum, perhaps adorning the figures of Ptolemy or Rameses. It had to be ten inches wide and covered from throat to over the shoulders and was shaped to follow the curve of the body, all the way around, front, back and sides. Matching armbands, from wrist to over halfway up to the elbows completed the look. It was these that were causing the current problem.

"Help me with these things, will you please?" The dresser had already been dismissed and the Prince turned to Dick for assistance.

The heavy collar was in place, but the catches on the armbands were stiff and stubborn.

"How old are these things, anyway?"

"I don't know. They've been in my family for a while-maybe three of four thousand years."

"No, really, how old are they?"

"That is really." Dick received another look accompanied by a shrug. "I come from an old family." They continued to fight with the catches until they finally yielded and remained firmly clasped. "I hate these things. They hurt."

"They're beautiful, though. Will all of you be dressed like this?"

Garth continued to look annoyed with the whole thing. "More or less. We were told formal Court Dress. That means the…what's the expression…the whole nine yards."

"But you get the really fancy stuff because you're the Prince."

"Right."

Dick would be going as Bruce Wayne's adopted son and was dressed in an Armani tuxedo that had been custom made for him just last month, fitting him the way such things are supposed to fit when worn by beautiful young men with perfect bodies. He was looking good, but was completely outshone by his lover.

"I wish you'd tell me what to expect tonight. I've been hearing all of you talking about it, but every time I get near you all stop speaking English. `You have any idea how frustrating that is?"

Garth smiled in mock sympathy. "Poor thing." He leaned in for a kiss. "I've told you. The exhibit consists of the national art treasures from my country covering the last eight thousand years, from just before the sinking to the present. They include everything from paintings and sculpture to jewelry and textiles to industrial design and photography and calligraphy. They've even included some of the tomb paintings of the dead." Garth took a drink of water from the bottle on the bed stand. "Robbie, I want to surprise you. I want to watch you see it for the first time."

"Thirty-four entire galleries at the Met and the whole thing was your idea." Dick's hand rose to caress Garth's cheek. Softly he said, "I'm so incredibly proud of you." Another kiss, "My prince."

Blushing with happiness and embarrassment, he said, "We have to go, I can't be late tonight."

"Should I come with you now or meet you there later?"

"I have to act as one of the hosts, so I'll be busy with that end of things. Um, I don't know. Why don't you come over with Ann? She's under strict orders to just be a guest tonight and do no work at all." Garth started out the door. "You're her date, remember?"

"Garth?" Ann was Garth's executive assistant, and a very good one, too.

"Oh, come on. She's very nice and she's been working quite hard for months helping to get this ready. Besides, I just heard that her boyfriend left her because of all the overtime and I feel guilty."

"All right, but I draw the line beyond a kiss good night."

Garth turned back to claim said kiss and then several more. "I hope so, and if not I want to watch."

The two of them walked down the curving main staircase together, laughing, to be met at the bottom by most of the staff that were dressed in robes similar to what the prince was wearing. Theirs were less ornate, but still magnificent, all in various jewel tones and trimmed with gold and pearls. Standing among the group was the lovely Ann wearing a Vera Wang. Walking over to where she was chatting with several of the others, the Prince made introductions.

"Your Highness, you look beautiful tonight."

"Thank you-you did say that I had to get out of jeans for this thing. We're all being ethnic tonight." It was, obviously, a private joke. " Ann, I hope that you won't be angry that I've asked Dick to serve as your escort and he is under instructions not to allow you to do anything tonight beyond enjoying yourself. Is that clear?" She blushed and smiled her agreement.

Ann knew full well who this Dick Grayson was and what he was to the Prince, but also knew better than to make an issue of it. In fact she had met him several times when he had come to the UN offices to see His Highness and he had always been friendly and pleasant. The two men were solid and she knew it, as did the rest of the staff. They were all in favor of anything that would make the Prince happy. Besides, she could do a lot worse than young, handsome and rich as her date for the night, even if there was no chance of it going beyond that

One of the staff approached. "Sir, the limo is outside."

The Prince looked both amused and appalled at the same time. "The museum is less than a block from here."

Ann chimed in. "Your Highness, you want to make an entrance. The press is there, both print and TV."

Shaking his head at the absurdity of this, Garth smiled. "The rest of you can ride if you want, but I'd prefer walking, if you don't mind", knowing full well that the others would follow his lead.

"Please dismiss the car." That was Marcus, Garth's number one at the Embassy and he was laughing, too. He knew the Prince had little patience for conspicuous consumption or ostentation and driving healthy people three hundred feet was about as foolish as it got.

The Prince turned to Dick and Ann, "I'll see you there later and you're both to enjoy yourselves tonight. No work, all right?"

"I'll keep an eye on her."

The two men exchanged a look and a half smile as the Prince and several of his assistants walked out the door.

A half hour later Dick and Ann were walking up the big front steps of the museum, looking up at the big blue and silver banner fluttering over the main entrance: "Treasures from Atlantis". There were lights and photographers, press and local news crews, fans lining the steps and the sidewalk, police holding back the crowds while the entire diplomatic corps, philanthropists and every social climber who could wrangle one of the invitations made their entrances.

It was a mad house and fun and noisy and would be in every paper and on every news show the next day.

Earlier that morning both the Today Show and Good Morning America had live feeds and exclusive stories from the galleries housing the hundreds of works of art. Garth had actually managed that little piece of diplomacy off by promising them both interviews and tours. The show was so large that they could both have exclusives and never even see one another or repeat anything that was shown.

Somehow, he had made it work. Katie Couric had congratulated him on his accomplishment in pulling off the double exclusive, laughing with him at the fact that it had actually worked as well as it had. As the NBC film crew was packing up, Garth and Katie had strolled through several of the galleries that hadn't been covered in the broadcast, chatting about the objects they were passing. They wandered into a room with a series of portraits. Muttering under his breath, Garth stopped in front of a painting of a young child, maybe nine or ten years old. The boy was sitting on the floor holding an antique sextant and appeared to be lost in his thoughts. The caption simply read, "Daydreams." It was remarkable, looking like it could have been painted by one of the Wyeths.

Seeing that the Prince was obviously displeased with the painting she questioned him. "Is something wrong, your Highness?"

His eyes still on the painting he replied, "My friends have hidden some things around the exhibit to see if I would notice them. As a joke." He looked at her. "That's an old portrait of me, Miss Couric and they know that I happen to dislike the thing."

Bursting out laughing, "But it's a charming painting, sir. You were adorable. You still are adorable. I think every female on the crew is hoping to give you their phone numbers." She was using that big smile that helped her get her job. "Why don't you like it? It's really very good."

"Miss Couric, would you really like to have your baby pictures available for public consumption?"

She started laughing again. "OK, you have a point. At least you're not on a bearskin rug." They kept walking. "You know, I've been noticing that there are a lot of pictures and portraits here. Really a lot."

He looked at her with amusement, "As opposed to paintings of what, Miss Couric, kumquats?"

"I mean, there aren't many landscapes or still-lifes or things like that. Everything here seems to be personal somehow."

"You've observant. One of the things we wanted to do was to show that we are human. To that end we've pretty much included only things that have a human connection: portraits, clothing, jewelry, even children's toys."

"Whose idea was that, Your Highness?"

"Mine. If we want to be taken as equals we need to start by showing that we're simply as human as anyone else."

They walked around another corner passing to another gallery. This one reproduced, in part, portions of an Atlantean home: a very well appointed one. She saw that look on his face again; annoyance and amusement in equal parts.

"Sir?"

"They've taken the covers from my bed." Standing before them was a bed made up with a magnificently hand embroidered throw, woven and detailed in ways that were unknown on the surface. He just shook his head, "I cringe to think what they might have filled the drawers of that chest with," as she started laughing.

She was thinking about him on the ride back to her office. No wonder he had been given the assignment that he had. He was brilliant with PR-handsome, intelligent, charming and a prince; it was impossible not to like the man.

So, the opening reception was underway.

The expected cream of the art world were there along with most of the diplomatic corps stationed in New York and a sprinkling from Washington. There were local pols and enough society mavens to ensure that they would continue to contribute to the museum's coffers. Unexpectedly, the Atlanteans, the official hosts, had politely insisted that they would like to open the evening to a more diverse group than might otherwise have attended. Therefore there were art and history students from NYU. There were fashion students from FIT and architecture students from Columbia. There were music students from Julliard. Several dozen mid to low level Met employees were there as invited guests, letting the people who actually helped set up and organize the huge show understand that their efforts had not gone unappreciated. There were regular city cops and members of the NYFD. There were guards and secretaries and tour guides from the UN. Each special group was given their own specially chosen guide with any and all questions about the exhibits explained completely and with insight and humor.

Somehow, the Atlanteans made them all blend together without problems and a lot of good-natured laughter.

The food was created using Atlantean recipes and ingredients with a separate section of the buffet set aside for guests with more conventional tastes. The music was provided by some of the best musicians that could be brought to the surface. The equivalent of chamber music for the main crowd and stuff that you could actually dance and get down to for later in the evening when things had settled down and mellowed out.

Somehow the entire opening party became fun. This was the sort of thing that could easily disintegrate into deadly formality and boredom but-it didn't. The young Atlantean staff kept things moving and interesting, they mingled and laughed and thanked people for being there. They smiled blushed at the people who told them that their accents were lovely or charming or sexy. They told personal stories about the items on display that spoke of the humanity behind the treasure: "I was always afraid of those paintings when I was a kid, ever since I learned that they were the actual faces of people who had died. I'd run away from that hallway faster than my teacher could catch me. No, really-I always thought they were creepy." "Oh, these robes. Yes, they are beautiful, I guess, but you should have seen the panic the last time I wore this thing, I spilled this really heavy cream sauce on the front during dinner and the cleaners only barely managed to get the stain out. My mother almost killed me." "Try the shrimp. It's from my uncle's farm and it's a special hybrid he developed. He just delivered it them morning." "Those portraits? They're about three thousand years old. They're some of my family…see, I have the same nose. They usually hang in our atrium." Even Garth, though a bit reserved and long suffering was going out of his way to make sure everyone was having a good time-taking time to answer any and all questions with unflagging humor and grace.

And on the evening went. The speeches were made and were, thankfully, kept short. The food was consumed and the very good wines were drunk with the guests expressing surprise that an underwater nation would produce such a fine vintage. The hosts were as welcoming and warm as anyone could hope and everyone agreed that the entire evening was a complete success. Even the member of the press were treated like real people instead of barely being tolerated the way they usually were at these things.

Hours later, as the party started to wind down, most of the diehards found themselves down by the Temple of Dendur where the real music, the stuff that you wanted to dance to was playing and where all the leftover food and wine had been removed to. There were still some guests who were wandering the galleries and they were told to take their time, that they could stay as long as they wanted. There were guards there, of course, because these were the art treasures of a nation, but they were unobtrusive and polite.

The reporters were allowed to mingle with the guests, as they had all night long, and they were all on good behavior. Their reports would be glowing, not just about the content of the exhibit, but also about the people responsible for the sharing of works of art that were the equal to and in many cases superior to anything the museum had to offer on it's own.

Finally around midnight the Prince and a few of his close assistants made their way into the huge room, laughing, arms around waists and shoulders, high on the success they'd pulled off. The official part of the evening was over and they were ready to relax and play.

Garth grabbed himself a glass of wine, his first of the night since he had needed to stay sharp and called to the musicians…."Crank it!" Hearing the cue, or rather a royal command, if you prefer, the music hiked up about twenty degrees, heavy on the bass. Twirling over to a bunch of chairs set by some small tables in an area good for conversation, robes swirling around his legs as he moved, he put his arms out in front of Ann's face. "Take these things off me, will you? They hurt."

She worked the stiff clasps of the arm cuffs…"You really did it, what a night!"

"Couldn't have done it without you, sweetie." He leaned down, kissing her cheek, smiling, laughing." Hey, get this one, too, will you?" He pointed to the gold collar. "I hate wearing those things. Hey, where's your date?" He was pulling the jewel-encrusted belt off, too.

"He went to get me some food." She nodded across the rapidly filling room. "You've got good taste, have I told you that? If he wasn't yours, I'd go for him myself." She was swaying with the music.

"Hands off, bitch."

"Tell me again why I put up with you?"

"Because I'm the best boss you've ever had and one of the sexiest men of the year."

"I'm still not convinced that wasn't rigged, you know."

"It was." Leaning over, he kissed her cheek again.

He was working at the pearl encrusted frog closures going down the front of his robe, opening the thing like a bathrobe and letting it fall off of his shoulders. Heavy, it fell in a puddle at his feet. Underneath he was wearing the black long-sleeved high-necked shirt and a pair of old jeans, rolled up to his knees so there was no chance they would be glimpsed under his finery. Bending, he unrolled the legs. Comfortable, he was ready to party.

"What do you want me to do with all of this stuff? I'm not babysitting your royal jewels."

"No, that's my job." Dick came up behind him and putting a hand on each shoulder and rubbing. His tux jacket was tossed over a chair along with his tie and cummerbund. The top couple of buttons of his shirt were open, his cuffs were rolled up. He looked incredibly hot.

"Later." Ann saw the leer barely hiding under the smile.

"Count on it."

He licked his lips in suggestion and anticipation then leaned back into the hands rubbing his sore muscles. "Ummm…feels good, that thing is so heavy it always makes my shoulders sore."

Marcus joined them. "I'll take care of these things, you go have some fun." Without warning about half of the lights were turned off, leaving the temple in dramatic lighting, the music going and about a hundred of the final guests dancing, eating, drinking and talking. It was that point of a party where you know that everyone has had a good time,

the night was a success and it was going to go on for a while. It was the best part.

The royal robes and accessories locked up safely in the Museum Director's office Marcus returned to extend his hand to Ann. "Dance with me?"

Smiling and standing and kicking off her high heels, she laughed, "I was hoping that one of you guys would take a hint."

Still standing with Dick's hands rubbing his shoulders and neck, Garth leaned back against his lover to feel a kiss below his ear. "You really did it, you pulled it off. You can't believe all the comments I was hearing; this is like the biggest thing to hit New York since cheesecake." Garth laughed happily. "Can we dance or would that compromise you?"

He turned around, swaying with the music, his hands coming up to Dick's waist, Dick's hands still on his shoulders. Smiling, he leaned in, pulling Dick closer and pressed their mouths together, holding the kiss, deepening it and then starting another and another after that. After several minutes he managed to whisper into Dick's mouth, "I want to dance." Taking his hand, Garth led him up to the stone platform that led to the entrance of the Temple. There were about ten other couples already up there and no one even looked up as they wrapped their arms around one another and stood in place, swaying to the slow song that had just started.

"You know, there are still a couple of the reporters hanging around." Dick looked down at Garth's head resting on his shoulder, his eyes half closed as they leaned against each other.

"Um-hmmm."

"Aren't you concerned about being outted?"

"Are you?" He started kissing Dick's neck.

"Garth, you've had wine, haven't you?" Garth never drank. His tolerance was nonexistent.

"A little." He was smiling to himself. "We had the best wine we could find brought up to impress everyone. Did you have any?"

"Um-hmmm. It's good, but I think that you've had enough." Garth was still leaning against him, arms tightening, mouth still on his neck.

"I'm sorry that we couldn't spend this evening together, but I was busy playing host all night. Did you get to see the exhibit?"

"I was talking with Ann mostly, and then I was cornered by some of Bruce's flunkies trying to suck up to me."

"You and sucking…later. You didn't get to see the thing?"

"No, sorry. I'll come back and see it another time."

Garth stood up straight, looked him in the eye, took his hand and said a simple, "Come on."

"Garth, they want to shut down. They'll throw us out."

Garth gave him a look. "No they won't."

Holding hands they made their way to an elevator that could take them up to the second floor galleries. Walking through the semi-darkened halls, their footsteps echoing they stopped now and then to kiss.

"We could do this another time, I don't have to see this right this minute."

They had reached the entrance. "I want you to see this, and I want you to see it with me."

"Garth, it's late, you're tired and you're drunk, we'll do this tomorrow or something."

The prince stopped, suddenly serious and slightly more sober. "Rob, this is who I am. This is part of me and I'm part of it. I want you to see this so that you can understand me and us and what made me." He put a hand up to Dick's cheek. "Okay?"

"Okay." They kissed and walked into the first gallery. A guard, just passing the doorway called out.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be up here. The party's over, boys; back downstairs."

Garth barely spared him a glance and kept going.

"Hey. I said outta here." Dick looked over at Garth who was still ignoring the man.

"Garth? Maybe we should go back. I can see this another time."

"Come on." He kept going.

The guard caught up to them, putting a hand on Garth's arm. The look he gave the man was enough to freeze water. The hand was removed. "Look, you gotta get outta here. We're closing up. You boys find some other place to play. Take it home, why don'tcha."

Garth was about to say something when they heard footsteps coming up behind them. It was Marcus. "Your Highness, there you are. I've been looking for you; the Museum Director has been asking for you. I think he wants to leave now."

"So let him leave."

"He wishes to speak with you before he goes, sir."

Garth was getting annoyed but kept a professional lid on it "Please tell the Director that I am presently engaged but look forward to speaking with him in the morning. And also please thank him for all of his help and cooperation for this evening. I anticipate expressing my gratitude to him in person tomorrow." The last was added as an afterthought and his expression made it clear that he wouldn't waste time with a debate. He turned back to Dick to lead him into the show.

Marcus knew when he was outranked and dismissed. "Yes, Your Highness. I'll tell him."

The guard saw this little exchange and realized that he was in the same boat. "Your Highness?" He'd heard that there was some prince or something working on this one but he'd never known which one of the wetbacks he was. Shit. No wonder everyone was sucking up to this guy. If Princey wanted to walk through the show at two in the morning with his boyfriend, that's what he was going to do. OK, Hell. At least it would mean overtime.

Walking inside the first gallery Garth noticed the look that Dick was giving him. "What?"

"I just never saw you pull rank before."

Garth just shrugged, a small smile on his face. "I don't have to with you."

"I'm still not used to you being a prince. I don't know, it's just weird."

"That's because you're used to seeing me naked. It's hard to remain aloof when you see my ass daily."

"And it's such a nice ass." Dick started looking at the things they were passing. "Who are these people?"

The two of them were walking down a long hallway filled with paintings and sculptures of obviously important men and women. "My family, going back to the sinking. Various Kings and Queens. This is just to get people back in time. The oldest ones are at the end here. They usually hang in the main reception room at home."

"You look like them. You really do. You have the same features."

"Well, yeah. 'Same gene pool."

They passed through the next three galleries quickly. "This stuff is just background from the sinking. Not all that interesting."

"Not to you, maybe. This stuff is incredible." Dick was looking at a few of the sculptures from around 7,000BC.

"They're OK. I wanted to show you the more recent stuff." Taking Dick's hand they went straight on through almost without stopping until they got to about gallery number twenty.

"Garth, were those entire ships that we just passed?"

"Oh, yeah, a slave galley and a sort of small sailing freighter. They're from about six thousand years ago."

"Were those eyes painted on the fronts?"

"Bows."

"Whatever. Why?"

"How else would the boats see where they were going?" Obviously.

"Of course." The turned another corner. "This is the house that everyone was talking about?"

The lighting effects were still on and the sound system hadn't been shut off yet so Dick could see and hear as close as could reasonably be produced of a recreation of being underwater. The filters on the lights muted things, the sounds weren't just of water sloshing, but of fish and whales and Atlantean music and murmured voices. It was all done so subtly that it was almost subliminal. It was amazing. Dick realized that they had been on throughout the entire show; he just hadn't been paying attention.

"Are the effects on all during the run?'

"Um-hmmm. We were concerned that it would start to resemble a ride at Disney, but then we looked it all over and decided that it works after all."

"You're right."

They had come to an area that looked like a cross between a Greek atrium and Japanese garden, the floor a mosaic using semi-precious stones. It was decorated in a clear style, refined and uncluttered except that when you looked closely there were a couple of children's toys under a bench and the table was set with what looked like math homework. A jacket, Atlantean in style, was casually draped over the back of a chair. Soft music, almost sounding like water lapping, but more melodic, played softly.

"Those are some of my old school books."

"This looks familiar. When I went down for Tula's…" When he went down for her funeral; he stopped himself, though Garth ignored the slip. "I went exploring."

"I know. You're right, this is a copy of that garden outside of my rooms. They also brought some of my other stuff up here. The first time I walked through this part I felt like I was in a weird dream. Over here is my bed and Xan got Ama to take some old clothes out of my chests."

"You know that they tease you because they love you."

"They tease me because they like to see if they can get a reaction out of me." There were other rooms reproduced, a kitchen (justified as modern technical design) with amazing food smells piped in, a family library, complete with books and scrolls dating back to the flood as well as recent works. There were examples of underwater furniture and writing instruments, sets of chess-which Garth insisted had been invented by them before the sinking and several other games that would seem at home in the Egyptian and Greek sections. Everything was exactly right; everything was a work of art.

Still holding hands, they went through to the next couple of galleries. These were the ones that held clothing and textiles. The oldest ones looked like Greek and Roman stolen togas, the newer things looked like either the sleekest cat suits you'd ever seen or something that Jacques Cousteau would have given his eye teeth for, along with another couple of versions of those royal robes that Garth had been wearing earlier. "Haven't I seen you wear that?" Dick was looking at one of the wetsuits.

Garth started another quiet laugh. "I didn't realize that one was in here. I've been looking for that."

They went to the next gallery, this one dedicated to Atlantean music which was playing through a top of the line sound system There were also about fifty headsets set up around the walls, interspaced with portraits of the musicians who had composed and performed the pieces. The sounds, other-worldly, were beautiful, haunting.

Passing through to the next room was another area dedicated to music, this time the kind of things that the under thirty set would listen to, the Atlantean version of the top twenty. Even in a foreign language, it got you moving…damn, it was really good. "Is this the stuff you listen to on headphones at home?"

"Usually. Most of this music is from my own collection."

"I like it."

Garth smiled at him, tightening his arm around his waist, kissing his cheek. "Me too."

They saw a couple sitting one of the benches that were scattered around the room to make listening more comfortable. They were older, maybe in their late sixties and both had gray hair. Wearing evening clothes, apparently they were guests who had gone off in search of a quiet corner. They were kissing and listening to the foreign sounds when they looked up to see the two young men strolling through arm in arm, not recognizing the prince, just seeing two people who were happy together. They smiled, enjoying the shared moment and experience of the music and the night.

Dick and Garth continued walking, leaving them alone.

The galleries they were passing through held things that made Dick think of Howard Carter's comment when Tut's tomb was first opened. When asked if he could see anything his answer was an awestruck "Wonderful things." That was what they were passing. Dick kept pausing as things caught his eye, asking questions about everything, caught up in what he was seeing…a miniature here, a bit of manuscript there, an ancient game board, a religious icon. The things were magical.

"You can come back another time to see the rest of this stuff. I'll show you everything when you're ready."

They were standing in front of a glass case that held some of the royal jewels. A few empty spaces would be filled by morning with the golden collar, arm bands and belt that Garth had been wearing earlier.

"These things are incredible. I knew that Atlantis was sophisticated and advanced, but I had no idea about most of these things. Even after being there and knowing you, I had no idea."

"That's why I wanted you to see." They had their arms around one another and Garth could feel Dick's exhaustion. "It's almost three. I'll bring you back when you're not as tired." They started kissing one another, more in affection and happiness than in passion-that would come later.

"Could I stay over at the embassy? Would anyone care?"

"I'd care if you didn't. Come on, we'll walk back."

On the way out they saw a few final stragglers and caught the band breaking down at the Temple when they stopped in to get Dick's jacket and things. Marcus was still there with Ann. A few of the others were getting ready to go, probably just waiting for the prince before they felt comfortable with leaving. They all ended up walking out together. There was some talk about the evening, but mostly it was companionable silence. It was late and everyone was tired. They walked slowly, lingering, not wanting the night to be over.

Ann was about to hail a cab on Fifth Avenue when Marcus stopped her. "Not tonight, Annie, you're one of us now." Taking her around the waist and kissing her quite soundly while the others made comments, in Atlan, about how it was about time he got around to that. He walked her back to the townhouse half a block away not letting go the entire way.

The group reached the steps and someone punched in the door code. There was some general milling around and most of the people started drifting down the circular stairs to the pool. Once there, clothes were dropped onto chairs and there were some splashes as about eight Atlanteans dove in to rehydrate for the night. Most would settle eventually in the niches built into the sides of the pool, like built in bunk beds complete with curtains for privacy. Ann and Dick ended up sitting together in a couple of chairs along the side, Dick angled so that she would be spared the sight of so many naked men swimming in front of her.

"They amaze me." She was looking at the pool; Marcus seemed to be showing off for her.

"I know. I've known Garth, I mean the prince, since we were like twelve years old, but this is incredible. Sometimes I have to remind myself who he really is and where he's from."

She looked a bit wistful. "I've seen you two together and you seem to be so happy." She glanced at him. "I'm sorry. I know it's none of my business."

He smiled encouragement. "No, it's okay. We are happy. What did you want to know?"

"I don't know, it's hard to explain, especially when I'm this tired. They're all nice people and they're smart and good at what they do or they wouldn't have been sent up here to work. I know that they're the best that their country has."

"And?"

"Do you think that you can make it work out? You and the prince I mean."

His smile faded. "I don't know. It really scares me sometimes how much I love him. I know that he'll have to go home at some point and I don't know what I'll do then."

"Do you ever talk about it?"

"We avoid it mostly. We both know that it's going to happen, but if we don't say anything, maybe it will go away." He caught something in her expression. "Why do you ask?"

"Marcus and I have become close."

"He's a good guy, you could do a lot worse."

"I know, but there's really no way that it could ever…"

"Hey Ann, take it while it's here, OK?" He smiled at her then turned to glance at the Atlantean men who had started a pick up game of water volleyball, laughing and shouting out friendly insults in their own language. "That's what I do."

"One day at a time?"

He smiled. "Yeah, something like that."

He heard a splash behind him and felt water being dripped on his forehead. Garth was standing there, his lower half loosely wrapped in a towel for Ann's benefit.

"Time for you to get wet all over." He took Dick's hand, pulled him to his feet and started to unbutton his shirt.

"It's four in the morning." He really would rather skip a swim right at that instant. "C'mon, it's late, I'm tired and you must be exhausted." Garth ignored him, pushing the shirt down from his shoulders and off of his arms. "Let's just go to bed."

"We will, after you get in the pool" Garth was smiling at him so as to leave no question as to what a dip in the water would include. Ann watched with some amusement, not noticing that Marcus had quietly come up behind her until she felt his wet hands on her bare arms.

"You, too. Everyone swims tonight."

"Marcus, no. I can't." She got up and tried to leave the pool area but was still smiling at the high spirits of her employers. He followed her.

"You have to, otherwise the prince will fire you. Right?"

Garth looked over. "Right. Effective immediately. Swim, woman." He was pulling Dick to the water's edge by his waistband and would obviously be occupied for a while.

"No."

"Why not?" He had her hand and was pulling her closer to the edge.

She hesitated, incredibly embarrassed but managed to stamme, "I can't swim. Really, I can't-never could, in fact. My parents gave me lessons for years, but I can't swim."

Marcus burst out laughing. "Well, I won't let you drown. Come on."

"I don't have a bathing suit."

"No one does, come on."

"Marcus…"

"It's not an orgy. You don't have to go into the pool, just sit in the Jacuzzi for a while. It will feel good, you'll see." He pulled her gently, smiling at her. "Come on." She was still hesitating. "All right. Wait here a second." He walked to a storage unit, dug for a second and returned to hand her something. "Here you are. I think it's Ama's and I know she won't care. Go change and then meet me back here."

Going to the adjacent bathroom, Ann returned in minutes, looking embarrassed. The suit was a perfectly modest tank, but somehow the cut made it both higher and lower than she was comfortable with, and the fabric was something that she was unfamiliar with. It was clingy and held her up and in and was altogether more than she was used to. Taking a deep breath, she decided that if she stayed under the water no one would notice.

She saw that the prince and Dick were already standing away from the others in the shallow end of the pool in water about four feet deep, arms moving, stroking around one another and kissing passionately and probably about to disappear into one of those sleep niches. She was okay with that. They were both nice men and they were happy together. They wouldn't hurt anyone and they allowed one another to do the work they each enjoyed. It was a win-win situation with no losers.

Walking over to the Jacuzzi that was large enough for at least six, she carefully picked her way into the warm, swirling water, Marcus already seated on the far side. He saw her watching the prince and his friend.

"Tonight went well. I know everyone was pleased with the exhibit and the party." He was looking at her with the calm that seemed to be part of the Atlantean makeup. "You should be proud of all the work you did to make it a success."

"Me? I didn't do that much, just did what you and the others asked me to do. It was all of you who thought of the whole thing."

He smiled at her modesty. "The prince was going to tell you in the morning, but he won't mind if I break it to you. He is going to give you two plane tickets to anyplace you want to go so you can rest after the last few months. Hotel and everything included. Think of someplace very special you've always wanted to see."

She stared at him-he had to be joking. "No, that's too much. And the budget won't cover anything like that."

"No, he's sending you. Personally."

"But…"

"He can afford it, Ann. Just accept it. Besides, we all felt badly when we heard that your fiancé broke it off because you were spending too much time with us."

"Oh…well, that probably would have happened anyway."

"But didn't he accuse you of having a `thing' for freaks?"

Stunned, she looked at him. "He didn't say…"

"Ann, I was in the hallway when he said that. It's all right; we get that a lot."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. That's why we're here, or it's part of the reason, anyway. To change that." He stopped talking, looking up as several of the others bid them good night, leaving for wherever they'd be spending the night. Ann could just make out that most of the underwater curtains were drawn as well. The pool became quiet, the two of them seemingly left alone.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, tired after a long day, enjoying the silence and calm. The both turned their heads at the sounds of the last two stragglers leaving the pool, watching as the prince and Dick walked by, towels around their waists in deference to Ann's presence. "We're turning in, too. Don't bother going into the office at least till around two. Later would be all right. I'd tell you to take the day off, but there will be a lot of letters to write."

"Good night sir, Mr. Grayson."

Dick tugged Garth's hand as they walked by, making him pause. "Marcus, you can call me by my name. I really don't mind."

Marcus smiled. "Thank you, sir, but that wouldn't be seemly."

Garth just smiled, and gently pulled him out of the room.

Ann spoke as they left. "I'm jealous. They're so happy with one another."

"Yes, they are."

They made their way up the stairs to the second floor and down the hall to Garth's suite of rooms at the end. They were exhausted, wet and sated after the interlude they'd just shared in the pool.

"The reviews in the papers in the morning will be love letters to you." They were settled in the king sized bed.

"It was fine." He seemed subdued, even for him.

"You're unhappy with something?" Dick turned on his side; hand on Garth's chest.

"No. It was fine."

"But…?"

"It's just a first step. To most people on the surface we're still either freaks or myth. It will be years, maybe decades before we're thought of as human. Some people will never see us as anything other than-grotesque."

"Garth, you're just tired. This exhibit and the treaties you're working out are going a long way to change that perception. It's going to be a slow haul. You know that."

"Rob, this will take years and…" Dick's hand was starting to move, slightly, on Garth's skin. "What are you doing?"

"Changing the subject." The hand was now creeping down toward his groin.

"Why?"

"You're getting too serious." Dick was now nuzzling his lovers neck, running his tongue over the smooth skin and up around the delicate ear. "You need to lighten up."

"I was voicing some real concerns…"

"You were. I know. Important stuff." Dick had moved so that he was now straddling Garth's body with his own, his mouth glued to his lover's, his hips starting to undulate slightly.

"I thought that you were tired."

"I think I've gotten my second wind."

"And I just thought that you were horny again."

"Ummm…like you said."

Garth felt his legs being raised, access requested and always granted.

"Nice about Marcus and Ann, you think."

"Garth?"

"Um?"

"Stop thinking."

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