"What is it with you, Frank?"

Matt looked down at the diminutive figure of his wife striding alongside him, and despite himself he smiled. Her old nickname for him, based as much on his size and resemblance to Frankenstein's monster as his last name always made him smile a little, if only inside. She'd even said 'Frank' instead of 'Matthew' at their wedding. Habits were hard to break.

No matter how many times he looked at her, it still amazed him she'd said yes. Well, 'I do'. The night they were married remained something of a blur to him. She'd explained it, but honestly, the whole wedding night part of it loomed so large in his mind that the rest of it seemed to fade into the background.

The same thing happened to whatever she'd been saying. He was so busy reminiscing about the night she'd died, come back to him, and pulled him to a cathedral to get married that he completely missed what she'd said.

"Earth to Frank. Come in Frank. Do you read us down here on the surface world?"

"Sorry, love. Your beauty stuns me into insensibility."

"Flatterer. You're just trying to get out of me making you pay for working while we're on vacation. Working during every stop of our friggin' vacation, it seems like."

He looked down at his feet, momentarily ashamed. He really had intended to avoid work during this vacation. Michaela and he had saved up for nearly a decade to afford a leisurely tour around the world. They'd spent weeks in Hawaii soaking up sun and playing in the surf. They rented a boat and sailed to Bikini Atoll, because they were both history geeks, although she was more into military history than any other kind. When they arrived in Japan for the next part of their tour, things went wrong.

Well, not wrong exactly. He'd been able to see the displays of an old Imperial armory that had been turned into a private museum. The problem, of course, was that he'd had to spend a week working to fulfill his end of the bargain. They still had no idea who was behind the theft. All the evidence pointed to someone who had a very specific list of items they wanted. Expensive items were left behind, and some of the items taken were only in the collection because some past emperor had found them pretty.

Of course, Matt found the only common link between the items. Based on some inventories from roughly three hundred years ago, they'd all been owned by someone named Koibito. The name was pretty obviously a pseudonym, but there was nothing else to go on. Even that lead was a slim one, but the Japanese government had thanked Matt for his help and sent them on their way.

What he couldn't tell them was his personal conclusion about the perpetrator. The criminal was strong enough to break through reinforced glass, had no fingerprints, and knew without hesitation which items in the gallery belonged to Koibito three hundred years previously. No human was likely to meet all those criteria, that combination strongly implied something supernatural. It wasn't something Matt was familiar with, but he'd taken copious notes on his handheld, and planned on researching it in his library at home when they finished their vacation.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Well, are you going to deny it?"

"I'm afraid not, sweetheart. Of course, it's just as likely some supernatural instinct of yours guided us when you were picking our tour stops."

She stopped walking and turned to face him, arms akimbo, a pretty frown on her stunning face. "The word is Divine Intervention, and are you implying that the Lord of Hosts, Creator of the Heavens and Earth, the Alpha and the Omega, took time out of his busy schedule just to mess with my vacation?"

He grinned down at her. He wanted to play along, but she was too cute for words when she was vexed. "Well, if the shoe fits."

"If it fits you, it's a sailboat. Sixty-two feet with two bedrooms and a dining hall. If it fits me, it's from the children's department."

"Or it's custom made, like those nice leather boots you're wearing. How high do they go, anyhow?"

She waggled an admonishing finger at him, a smile teasing at the corners of her lips, threatening to destroy the severe look she gave him. "Nope. No investigating that until you're done this thing at the Hermitage. Besides that," she paused, shoving her hand back in the fur muff she'd brought along. "it's cold in Saint Petersburg this time of year, and for once I'm regretting the whole ‘not made of marble anymore’ thing."

With that, she turned and stalked along the street once more. He'd been tempted to rent a car at each of their destinations, but she'd convinced him walking was a better idea. Watching her walk away, he realized how lucky he'd been to go along with her suggestion. He also realized that his wife's fashion sense was currently at war with her common sense and seemed to be winning handily.

"You didn't have to wear a skirt."

She looked over her shoulder at him, having to crane her neck a little to meet his gaze as she did so. "Really, Frank? You're really going to complain about that? When I'm absolutely certain you were just speculating on whether I was wearing anything under it, and whether the leather would chafe if I was exhibitionist enough to let you find out somewhere less than private?"

Matt glanced around, shocked that his wife would talk so openly in public. He certainly hadn't expected her to actually do anything in public. She wasn't embarrassed in the slightest, but she did have bits and pieces of old-fashioned conservatism hidden away under her gorgeous exterior.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Frank. They're all wondering what we're talking about. Except for a few who are speculating on whether they'd have a chance, since you've obviously irritated me. Which means none of them speak fluent English, and a few are really poor judges of character." She smiled up at him, and for just a moment nothing else in the world mattered.

"Now answer my question, Frank. Are you really going to complain about me wearing a skirt?"

"Absolutely not. I was just worried about you catching a cold."

She stopped, turned fully about, and gave him just enough warning to catch her as she leapt up into his arms. She planted a kiss square on his lips, then wiggled around to whisper in his ear, "You're sweet, but I don't let rhinoviruses anywhere near either of us. They annoy me. Also, if your hands keep slipping upward, I'm going to be far less sporting about you finding out what's under my skirt when we get back to the hotel."

Matt gave Michaela a quick squeeze, then set her back down on the sidewalk carefully. She landed gracefully on her toes, pirouetting away from him and starting towards the Hermitage Museum again. "Well, you coming?"

"Certainly, sweetheart. Just traveling at a pace where I can enjoy the view."