For Old Time's Sake - 3. Comes Morning

Struggling through a maelstrom of dreams, one more peculiar than the other, Hera was making her way towards awareness again, as if swimming towards the surface of a deep sea, fighting the kaleidoscopic currents with forceful strokes. With a jolt her eyes fluttered up – to a startling view. She was definitely not in her own bedroom in La Casa Dolorada in Venice, Italy. Daylight radiated from the wrong direction and the texture of the bedding felt different, the duvet too thin. Not to mention that the mixture of smells were dissimilar – yet oddly familiar in their lush muskiness, triggering a torrent of remembrances one more bittersweet than the next. Most of all, she was not alone in the bed, there was someone asleep next to her, someone who's warm chest her head was resting next to, the rhythm of his heartbeat in her ear, a strong arm encircled with such an astonishing ease around her waist.

The next millisecond it all came back to her. Zeus. Tokyo. Zeus. Leaving Venice. Zeus. Terminating her Italian identity as La Contessa Adriana Verselli, 92 years old. Zeus. Creating a new persona, Adriana Fabriciani, 22 years old. Zeus. Going to Japan for the first time since the nineteen-sixties. Zeus!

After an irresolute beginning did their night turn spectacular, an adventure ending right here in his bedchamber with the most fabulous sex she had experienced in eons. Hera could fairly claim she'd never enjoyed a hotter, more sensual, more fulfilling acuity of the good old act after parting with this man still sound asleep next to her. And any recollection of such love-making was tainted by the excruciating memory of how they later blew it all sky high.

How had she dared this, Hera questioned herself. How had she dared following Zeus home against better judgment? Why had she submitted herself to this explosion of emotions she was so convinced would only lead to agony when the firework was over and the last cracker had faded, the final catherine wheel disappearing in the clouds of powder smoke? Come to think of it, she had actually been the one to take the lead. She flirted him down at that little American style bar in the Shibuyan side-street. Knowing exactly which buttons to push, she pressed them gently but firm and in the very correct order. A little flattery, a little mystery, a little shyness, and he was eating out of her hand. Not to mention upon other parts of her.

But there was no regret; the only thing she felt was a blush and a stupid smile curling her lips. Shifting in the bed she traced with her hands between her tights, then she let go and turned again, she did after all have something so much better than fingers available now.

Zeus was gorgeous in his sleep, his face smoothened out sans worries, his full lips slightly split apart and his eye-lids twisting as he was dreaming and Hera edged just a little bit closer, so she could reach out for his fair hair. Running her hand through the silky strands, she was overcome with the familiar sensation; the whirls were just where she remembered them to be. Too short for her taste though, Hera had never liked short hair upon men, that was why the last century had seen her in the arms of one hard rocker after the next, in spite of not really liking the music. There had been this Austrian bodybuilder turned American governor and that Swedish MMA-athlete and after-shave model who later went into politics too, something with her old queenly influence, she took it. The number of bed comrades had been immeasurable, all the same she knew now that she had only been looking for the real thing all the time.  

Must have been some kind of self-preservation preventing her from grasp it until she finally had him next to her.

*o*o*

The tactile sensation of something in his hair woke him up. Damn, he had had the finest of dreams, he had dreamt of Hera again, something he tended to do with regular irregularity, and often when he had been without female company for quite some time. The dream had been so vibrant, the dance, the taxi, the elevator, the sex... So... Real?
"Hera?"
"Yes, sweetie!"

How many times hadn't he said that very name to some Maria or Jennifer or Claudyne or Antonia or Jelena or Tomoko or Marilyn or Britney or Rihanna or...
"It IS you, right? Isn't it?"
"That, I guess, depends on who you mean, handsome?" That clear contralto finally pierced through the clouds of sleep and Zeus grinned in delight as the well-known tessitura caressed his eardrum.
"Queen Hera of Olympos," drowsy sky-blue eyes meeting two cocoa beans shadowed by long lashes, traces of make-up still staining her cheeks. That plum-coloured, glitter enhanced lipstick was gone though, and he suspected strongly that smudges of it was to be found upon him.

"I haven't heard that title in ages," she smiled, the tip of her tongue darted quickly across her full lips, dampening them, her slender but strong right hand still in his hair, running through curls and trying to entangle itself.  
"No," he reached up to touch her cheek, skin soft and warm beneath his hand. "Olympos is no more, but you will always be my Queen."

He found he had rendered her speechless, her eyes got moisty, the smile evaporated from her face and he feared saying something wrong. But then she tried a smile again.
"Kings and Queens, that's so medieval. As a matter of fact, I've become quite the democrat over the years. I've even held office for a while."
"In Italy?"
"Yes. But you never last long in Rome; they still have one and a thousand ways of dispose of their politicians, even if they don't stab them in the back anymore. Not literally at least."
"What happened to you then," his hand ran down her peachy chin, across her slender neck until it came to rest at the backside of it, strands of her chestnut hair getting caught between his fingers.

"The irony of it, your old slipup, Zeus. I took a young man to bed. Turned out he was a spy for the other side. I was set up, there were pictures in the press and La Contessa Adriana Verselli had to resign in disgrace, and return to her family estate in Venice and lick her wounds instead of running for president. Money didn't save my reputation but it gave me enough protection to not having to finish her off, I could continue being Adriana for almost 40 years more."
"I believe I remember that story," Zeus was chuckling inwardly and to his delight Hera began laughing at the blunder too. "I remember thinking it so odd, since it was the 70ies, free love and all. Those crazy years between the pill and AIDS."
"It never really was that way in Italy," Hera returned, letting go of his hair and then fingering his ear with her hand as well as her sweet voice. "You know the Catholic church."
"The Catholics," he huffed. "Those bothersome charlatans! How could I forget about them? Still playing the world's oldest and most expensive role play down in Vatican City."

Then Zeus figured the conversation topic too boring, instead he pulled her head closer to his and gave her a deep kiss. Tender yet hot, craving yet fulfilling, and Hera responded with the same eager desire. In that instance it seemed to him as if no time had passed at all since that night on Olympos when they had reconciled for the very last time. He still remembered that night with painful clarity. Painful, because there had been an undercurrent of destruction in their passion, a painful distance between them, a distance covered in thorns. A dreadful certainty that they were both pretending, both glossing over the understanding that their marriage was failing bitterly.    

But now – with surprised delight did Zeus realize that there was no such anguish. The only things he experienced when that warm body covered his was delight and joy. And with it a wish to never let go, to always hold on to this treasure worth more than all the combined fortunes on this planet. He'd trade anything for the opportunity to keep this lovely woman with him this time.

As they disconnected, she was facing him with a serious expression.
"Zeus?" her voice a few notches deeper than before, her eyes a bit larger. "Do you think?"
"What, honey?" this time he dared uttering that endearment. It was still a bit more neutral than the others, old ones he had used to call her.
"Do you think we can make it work this time? With you and I? I'd..."
"I'd love to," he replied, as he ran his hands across the small of her back, traced circles, drawing a heart upon the canvas of her soft skin. "I'd love to give it a try at least. To dare giving it a try, rather than freaking out and then regretting not taking the chance later on. Because then there might never be another one, Hera."

"But what it we, uh, what if we end up hurting each other again?"
"You know something?" he stopped the movement of his fingers, locking her eyes with his firmly.
"Tell!" her voice but a husky whisper, eyes still large – bemusing him.
"I believe both you and I have learned quite a few things over the centuries apart from each other. Like how to be careful with the dearest of hearts. We won't repeat stupid old mistakes, will we?" Silently she shook her head and he went on. "So how about breakfast in bed?"

Her response became a ringing laughter.
"That is the Zeus I know!" she giggled as her eyes teared up. "Changing subject as if you switched channel on a radio. Abruptly from one thing to another, that was always you. And the rest of us had to struggle to follow your train of thoughts without mentally careening down in some roadside trench. Yes, I'd love breakfast in bed."
"Then wait here!" he told her as he wormed out beneath her. And by the way, should you need, the bathroom is that door." He indicated the door opposite of the bed and then he cupped his hands into a heart gesture.
"Thank you, handsome," she grinned at him, while returning the gesture and as she watched him leave she snuggled down beneath the duvet again, curling up and inhaling his residual fragrances.  

Yes, Hera thought. She had grown older too. Wiser. She was sure going to appreciate this second chance with the love of her life. That was what Zeus was to her, she had to admit it to herself after this night, she couldn't make it without him anymore. There was no way she could lose him one second time without breaking apart completely. This time she was going to fight, but not like she had fought back in the old days, with weapons that hurt and destroyed, she had a new arsenal this time. A more enduring one, she knew. She had made up her mind. She was going to love bomb this man until total surrender.  

*o*o*

"For you, dear Queen – the world at your feet," Zeus smiled as he placed his hands upon her hips, squeezing lightly making her sense his gentle strength and warmth through the cotton texture of her white slim fit pants. "Or at least Tokyo!"
"Tokyo is fine," Hera giggled. "Tokyo is very very fine! A beautiful city indeed!" Leaning back against his firm body, she knew he was smiling, amazing how quickly she recalled all those small changes in his body, the way his shoulders strained slightly when he cracked into a grin or how he drummed his thumbs against things – this time her hips – when his mind was preoccupied. Not to mention the way he blew hot breath across her neck when he wanted her attention.

To be true, these little things about him were even more interesting than the view from Tokyo Skytower. Doubtlessly Hera had wanted to stay the whole day in bed, catching up on at least a small part of all the time they had lost because of their earlier foolish and destructive stubbornness. At the same time Zeus couldn't wait to show her Tokyo, there was pride within him, as if the city was his creation – which it more or less was, at least the modern parts, she realized. Everywhere there were glass high-rises and an abundance of colourful electric lights she could spot the traces of this man.

They had ridden the subway across the town, stopping at quite a few places. The imperial palace where Zeus and Amaterasu's descendants lived, the shopping streets of Ginza, the crowds of teenagers in Harajuku and the neon of Shinjuku and a few other places her ex-husband thought memorable.

Finally, while the sun was setting over the Japanese capital, they had made it up here to admire the mighty city beneath their feet, seeing it slowly lit up and turning into an opus of sequins. Divine sight let them see details no ordinary humans could. The people and the cars in the streets, things going on inside of the buildings, a 747 crossing the sky. In a peculiar way this vista reminded Hera of Olympos and their era as active gods.  
"Do you miss Hellas?" she asked of him after a few heartbeats of comfortable silence, in which she placed her hands on top of his, enjoying the slightly hairy texture against her palms, another familiar perception.
"Sometimes," he admitted. "But most of the time not. I've never been much for nostalgia. Through the centuries I've come to realize that I prefer the here and now. Still treasuring what once was and learning from past legacy, but always striving for a better tomorrow rather than looking into the bygone. Which ought to be our motto, if we are to resume this relationship, my sweet peacock."

She giggled. There it came the endearment she had been waiting for, and he repeated it in Japanese just for the heck of it. Kujaku. She actually loved the ring to it.
"Still," she insisted. "Olympos was so beautiful. One day I'd love to re-create it."
"I wouldn't," he stated.
"Why not?"
"Just as I said, I've never been much for nostalgia. Besides, I don't think we could ever reinvent it. The old blueprints are gone, the world has moved on, and no matter how careful we are with replicating it, there'll always be that feeling of something missing. Something not quite right. Most probably it would be our brains playing tricks upon us, tampering with our recollections. Making us disappointed, and then angry at usselves for our inabilities to remodel what ones was. Or what we believe once was when we envisage it in our mind. Alas we'll never reach that imagined perfection. No, Hera let go. Let's enjoy the now and our future instead!"

"You know what, Zeus? I think you're right." Then she began to beam. "Most of the time at least." After that she started to hum silently over the song which was being played at the surround system.

Baby Love My Baby Love  
I Need You Now My Baby Love
Oh –Oo-hoho
Baby Love My Baby Love  
I Need You Now My Baby Love

She rejoiced in his soft laughter as she turned around and placed her hands upon his shoulders, and they took a few dance steps at the floor next to the large window wall, not giving a damn about people turning their heads and staring.

"Honestly I prefer the original to this J-pop version," she admitted when the song rang out and was replaced with another. "The Supremes, hard to match, whatever you're into nostalgia or not."

At that moment the elderly gentleman next to them turned and grinned.
"How wonderful with young people who can still appreciate the old standards," he said in a gentle voice as he fingered his camera. "Makes us oldies feel not quite so old."
"Perhaps you're right about that, my friend." Zeus said and blinked one eye at the Japanese.