Dear Diary,

"Yes, Mother. I can see you are flawed. You have not hidden it. That is your greatest gift to me."

Alice Walker - Possessing the Secret of Joy

Wow. This one hits hard. I mean, I don't know if I'd have gotten it before my conversation with Maze yesterday. My mom is absolutely my idol, my person I want to be, who literally worked herself to death providing for me, but yesterday I realized that if she'd asked me, I totally would have told her to stop, to just spend time with me. I'm not mad at her, I totally get why she did what she did, but it's only after telling Maze about it that I realize she, with the absolute best of intentions, might have fucked up. Fuck, the world of Eastside might be as fucked as this one in little ways, because if she'd done what my inner child wanted, still wants, I wouldn't have been able to live the life I did. I'd have wound up living with my sister or maybe even getting dumped into the foster care system, which I'm told sucks ass. So it's not like everything would have been fuckin' sunshine and roses if she'd stayed home.

All she could do was the best she knew at the time. Makes me feel a lot less bad about myself in the here and now. Not like I'm gonna stop trying to be better, but maybe I'll feel less like I'm fated to be a shit person because I wind up in situations where no matter what I do, somebody who doesn't deserve it gets fucked over, hard. Yeah, maybe some of those situations are created by earlier mistakes, but if I can honestly look back and say that at each step, I did the best I could with what I had, what I knew, who I was at the time, I can maybe say I'm not embarrassing the memory of Marie Diaz, y'know?

Holy shit, I just realized that if my Maenad Maid Marie takes my name, she's gonna have the same fuckin' name as my mom, and that's gonna be so fuckin' weird. Although she might hyphenate. Or take Saffron's name. Or hyphenate with Saffron's name. Wait, does she even have a last name? She predates proper fuckin' calendars, does she predate surnames too?

When people used to tell me 'oh, don't get into a relationship with a big age gap', I sure as shit wasn't thinking about this. I'm pretty sure they weren't thinking about this.

Speaking of weird shit regarding our little troika, last night after Saffron and I finished up our sweat soaked slippery shenanigans, we both wound up a little bit surprised to find our stealthy as shit Sapphic Maid sitting against the wall at one end of the bed, fully dressed in her Maid's Uniform, doing some kind of hobby stitch witchery, the kind with the long needles and thread. Macramé, maybe? Like I said before, I got no fuckin' clue, and every time I've maybe gotten an impulse to ask, it dies a horrible death by drowning in hormones before it ever gets to the point of being an actual thought. I propped myself up on an elbow and said, "did you wanna join in?"

She cocked her head and, after a long, appreciative glance, said, "No." then went back to her knitting.

Saffron giggled, but that 'no' kinda stuck sideways in my brain. "Aren't you, like, made of thirst or some shit?" She blinked, nodded, then kept playing with thread. "Okay, so aren't you gonna wind up all frustrated and shit if we don't?" She shot me a wry grin, gripped her knitting in one hand, and made the kind of gesture that would have hordes of thirsty catgirl fanbois storming every KFC in the nation if they just threw it in an ad subtitled 'finger lickin' good'. I laughed and said, "okay, I mean, yeah, self-service is definitely an option, and I figure you're pretty good at it by now, but we're, like, right here." A sudden unpleasant thought trickled through my brain, made even more unpleasant by how unpleasant it shouldn't be. "Unless you're waiting for some privacy? We can give you the room if you need..."

I trailed off as she laughed at me without slowing down her knitting in the slightest. A suspiciously Maze sized sweater was taking shape as I watched, but her sudden wink drew my attention back to her face just in time for her to say, "Did."

My face heated when I realized what she meant. My brain got a little confused about whether I felt some kinda way about her watching us all unannounced like that, but then my lady bits weighed in on the matter, and I realized that if I'd gotten a sudden surprise set of hands getting intimately handsy, it would have been a question of organization, not permission. I get that 'married' does not automatically equal 'consent', but I realized just then that for me, with Saffron and Marie, it was definitely more of a backstage pass, automatically opted in kind of thing. Sudden surprise sex from Saffron or Marie was absolutely something I was down for.

Of course thinking about that made me realize that wasn't anywhere near a universal thing. Like, not even for fuckin' Marie, apparently. I don't know what that says about my appetite, but then again Saffron's the one who said I'm 'fated to consume everything, eventually' or some shit like that. "Hey, Murder Mittens?"

She'd been watching me, I realized just then, as a fond smile stretched across her face. "Vlickies?"

"If I wanted to, with you, right now, would you?" She let out the faintest of sighs, shifting like she was gonna put away her knitting. "No, no, I wasn't, like, asking you to. Sorta... I dunno, asking if you... Shit, I thought I was better at this."

Saffron laughed. "At the talking part? Love, since you're apparently not trying to part her from her panties, nor get her to wet them in terror, we're well out of your field of verbal expertise, I think."

"Oh, thanks." I snarked at her.

She nipped my ear. "That was neither a complaint nor an accusation. You are very good at both of those things. Frighteningly good."

"I'm scary good at scaring people?"

She smiled against my ear before saying, "no, you're scary good at seducing people. I lack the words to adequately describe how erotic I find your threats." Yeah, my Kitten is pretty fuckin' dark. I forget that sometimes. Back in the world of Eastside, she definitely would have had an edgelord phase. Hell, she probably would have been right in the middle of it. Made me wonder a little at how much of that love of the dark and edgy she'd retain when she hit twenty, or thirty, or forty.

I pulled her to me, then turned to Marie and said, "So, you would if I asked, but you don't want to?" She tilted her head, and I followed up with, "I mean you wouldn't initiate something, or join in if we were going another round, or, fuck, I dunno, pounce on one of us if the other went to bed?" She nodded at that. "Weird."

Saffron chuckled. "I think I get it."

I pulled back enough to look her in the eye. "Okay, you're the thinking brain person for your living bed pillow and the wifiest of wifes. Explain."

She pulled herself up, scooched me back until my back leaned against the head of the bed, then leaned against my shoulder. "For you, for me, this is all new."

"We've been married almost a year now. I wouldn't call that new."

I had more to say, but a bark of laughter from Marie shut me the hell up, at which point Saffron said, "Marie started out as mortal as you or I. Didn't you, love?" At Marie's nod, she continued, "Even if she was one of the long lived races, and became a Maenad after two centuries," at my involuntary disbelieving look she said, "some Dan have lived that long. But even then, she's had millennia after that as a Maenad. If she joined the Maenads she likely wasn't a prude before that."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"Nope."

All three of us laughed at that, then Saffron said, "So it's not that she's uninterested. I think it's more she's exploring what it's like to have hobbies other than this."

"There are hobbies other than this?" They both laughed, losing it even more when I said, "other than video games, which you guys don't have here anyway?"

"Kind of my point exactly. For me, this is wonderful stress relief, and a way to reward my favorite attack dog for her endless vigilance in Calverton. For you, it's that plus a hobby. Not to mention that your appetite for this, much like for food and fighting, has yet to reach anything near satiation at any given time." She looked at Marie. "Am I getting this right?"

"Yes."

"So for her, when she joins us, it's because she wants to, not because she feels compelled, or because she's been ordered, or anything short of her enthusiastic," here she shot a snarky grin at Marie, "if quiet, Consent." Marie carefully set her knitting down, crawled over to loom over the two of us while still on hands and knees, then vibrated the bed with a fuckin' purr. When both of us started to giggle, she let out a really recognizable growling yowl, then kissed both of us on the cheek and scooched back to her spot at the end of the bed. Saffron managed to choke out, "okay, maybe not always so quiet," through her laughter.

"Okay, but... what about my whole plan about, y'know, her and not walking for a month after the wedding day?"

"Month?" She sounded a little surprised.

I have no idea why potential interruption of my plans of matrimonial nookie hurt so much, but I asked, "So you have a problem with it?"

She just raised an eyebrow. "Carry."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I'll carry you everywhere you want to go, along with the absolutely nowhere you'll be required to be during our honeymoon, Murder Mittens."

She crawled over to us, pulled my chin up, and purred out, "Anticipation." Then she kissed me. When I opened my eyes the three of us lay in our bed in Lancaster House, and she snuggled in between the two of us.

I just want to make sure I'm not pushing you into things you don't want.

No. You push me into things I do want. Now sleep.

I woke up early. I think the dysfunctional part of my brain that fails to make healthy habits had decided getting near drowned was unhealthy enough to make a habit or some shit like that. I stepped into the bathroom to find yet another tub full of steaming water. I laughed, walked over, and slipped into it, letting myself sink, eyes drifting shut, until I felt the tiniest pressure beneath me. Maze wriggled her away around until she lay atop me, then snuggled in and went still. I put one arm around her and surrendered to the heat.

Is this going to wind up being a nightly thing?

I smiled as Saffron's voice in my head woke me. Ask her. You could join us, y'know.

I, my love, would drown.

You, my love, could stay Co-Located. Or should I grant you the Boon of holding your breath for a really long time in the hot tub?

She laughed at that, reaching down to help first Maze, then me out of the tub. "We'll see."

"So, Maze. Do I have your permission yet?"

She looked up at me, glanced over at Saffron, then started toward where Marie had the kids lining up for the potty. "Not yet."

I followed her, at least as far as my towel stack, and asked, "anything I could bribe you with?"

She turned to look me right in the eye and said, "no."

The rest of the morning routine went well. Marie just has an aura about her, something that the kids respond to. At one point Alex and Isnomi, who had been nattering about something while waiting for the potty, raised their voices, and Marie quieted them both with a look. Not even a mean one. Maybe disappointed, like she knew they could be better than that, and they wanted her approval so much they just moved straight past the shouting and fighting part to the grudging reconciliation. Weirdest combination of emotions from seeing that. A little bit of awe, what with her being so fuckin' good at the Momming. A solid chunk of warm fuzzy at the thought of her Momming our kids. Definitely a bit of heat at the thought of, y'know, the actual act of making those kids.

Funny that people call that 'making kids'. Like somehow there's insta-kid in the belly the moment the spooge spurts. If anything the dad's just putting in a requisition and some blueprints. 'Making the kid' occurs over the following forty weeks. More or less. A lot more or less, if Saffron's comment about the variation in length of Bonnie's pregnancy was anything to go by. Still felt some heat at the thought of putting that requisition in. In triplicate even. Wait, what's it called when you do more than that? Quadruplicate? Quintuplicate? Screw it, I'm treating it like one of those 'press the button, get a million dollars or a catgirl' buttons. Like, why would you not press that fucker when there is zero potential down side?

I managed to finagle some extra whipped cream out of Marie for Saffron's waffles, and then some more for the waffles destined for Saffron that had mysteriously wound up on my plate. I mean, yeah, I ate a couple bites, because those things were really fuckin' good, but let's face it, I was eating for flavor, not nutrition.

That thought exploded in my brain. I stuffed an extra big bite into Saffron's mouth, then waved Marie over, pulling her down to whisper in her ear. "Is that what it's like for you with us? Like me with food? I don't need it at all, but I like the taste?"

She pondered that while I fed Saffron the next couple bites, idly slicing up waffles for the kids sitting near us while she did. I'd almost forgotten about the question when her voice slid into my brain. I need you like food, like drink, like air. She paused, then continued, Anticipation whets the appetite. Hunger is the best spice, Vlickies.

I crammed another bite into Saffron, who despite her beetled brows smiled as she noshed when I stood, pulled Marie over, and kissed her. When I sat back down to prep the next bite, she said, "trying to distract me by indulging my penchant for sweets, while planning nefarious rendezvous with our Maid?"

I shook my head, giving her my best serious look. "No, Kitten. This isn't indulging you. This is carbo-loading." At her adorable, cheeks-full, confused look when I shoveled another bite in, I explained, "that's when you eat a bunch of bread and pasta and shit before you go work out, so you've got the energy to keep going all day."

She gulped down that bite and said, "so that's your excuse?"

I nodded, then filled her mouth with waffle and syrup and butter and cream again. "It is. And it is, as you've no doubt realized, extremely sticky."

Boring day at Calverton today, which just to remind my own easily bored self is another way of saying 'awesome day at Calverton today', because on boring days, everybody does their job, we clear another few blocks, and nobody goes home in a box. Okay, the Undead kinda do, but they were already home, and they didn't generally leave enough residue to box up when our guys hit them with enough Smite. Our Mage types had started Smiting any bodies that didn't just disintegrate once they'd been put down; apparently they had a few bodies that didn't dust then either. We boxed them up real tight, and I decided then and there that with Hole Spawn and Undead reacting poorly to Co-Location, I'd have them shipped to the Black Dragon for examination by our smart guys tomorrow.

In the Practice Yard, I went all duBois on a tear with Saffron. Mid-morning she started wincing. "Feet hurting?"

She wrapped her arms around her chest. "Not my feet."

"Oh, shit. Gimme a second." I hopped over to M-Space, looked, found, pulled, and hopped back. "Feeling shy?"

She shrugged. "Not particularly."

"Good." I banished her jacket, pulled her shirt down over her shoulders, then yanked that sandpaper camisole off her. "You'd probably be better off with Glowing Midnight's underthings than that anyhow, but..."

She pouted up at me, her arms pinned to her sides by her shirt. "Just showing me off in front of everyone now?"

"Oh, absolutely. They're real and they're incredible. Remind me to get you an Uzaki-chan tee shirt sometime. But... hold up your arms." It took a little bit for her to wriggle her arms out, but when she did, I pulled the sports bra on her, then shifted things around until she looked like nothing was pinching.

"That's sort of constricting, but..." she said as I pulled her shirt back up, adjusted the ties, and then bopped her jacket back in place. "Oddly supportive?"

"All right. Back to it. Run, Aetos! Run!"

When the sun approached the roof, I hollered out, "almost finished with your marathon run, Aetos! Keep running!"

She staggered around the next two laps with me jogging in place next to her, shouting about how she was gonna finish twenty six miles in a day, which isn't a bad run for somebody who hadn't been training for it at all recently. When I shouted, "that's it! Twenty-six!" she threw her arms into the air, then toppled over backward. I caught her before her head hit, and she lay there panting with her head pillowed on my knees.

"Three things," she panted. "Very. Important." I nodded and waited. "This." She patted her chest. "Brilliant." She grinned at me. "Tomorrow. Healing. Good." I laughed at that, and then she looked at the setting sun and narrowed her eyes. "Sunset. Late." I whistled off tune. Looking everywhere but her. She wheezed out laughter, barely able to get out even a single additional word. "Bitch."

What else could I say? "Woof. Woof."