Diana Flynn wasn't entirely sure why she needed to reserve TWO cabins for the celebratory cruise, but with enough hints and allusions thrown her way, convincing her that Silvio, or rather, Michael, would be sharing hers with her, she had eventually agreed. 

"This will be an absolute scream," Diana was saying now as she leaned over the balcony of the ship, a glass of champagne dangling from her hand as she lowered her lids at Silvio. Lia, standing a few feet away, sighed and rolled the stiffness out of her neck. The woman was exasperating, and absolutely pathetic in her desperate, nonstop attempts for Silvio's attentions. Silvio was replying with something ambiguous, and Lia's gaze wandered off and around the deck, where the majority of the other cruise passengers had assembled to throw confetti and sip a cocktail while the boat left the docks.

They were headed south from Los Angeles, the destinations Cabo San Lucas, Puerto Vallarta, and Mazatlan. One week, and then they'd be back in LA and flying home to Vegas. Lia was beginning to doubt her own survival rate already. Diana was hanging off of Silvio now, by all appearances a couple. Time to turn the woman's dial back down, Lia thought as she reached into her pocket and discreetly unscrewed the cap to a small vial of sleep aids. Small and quick-dissolving, she sidled up to Diana, unnoticed, and dropped the pill in her champagne. 

"Drink up, Corndog," she muttered. Or was it horndog? She was forever confusing American words. There were simply too many, with multiple meanings. Half of them simply made no sense to her at all. Her eyes locked with Silvio's for a moment, and then she stepped away, shaking her head and strolling off into the rest of the crowd. 

"You... have beautiful hair," said a male voice from behind her. Her hair actually moved a bit then, and Lia realized the man had actually touched it. Had they booked themselves on a singles' cruise?! Lia wouldn't put it past Diana to do so. Hell, the woman had probably been on a few already.

"Thanks," Lia said, not even turning to look at him. If she ignored him, maybe he'd go away?

"Can I buy you dinner later?" No such luck.

"The dinners are free. They're included in the price of the cruise," she retorted, still not looking at him.

"The steakhouse isn't. I have a standing rez," he replied. Mio Dio, he was persistant! Finally turning to look, her eyes landed on a well-groomed, tastefully dressed man in his 50's. Not unattractive, and most certainly wealthy, if his watch and suit were any indication. There was an air about him, one that gave off the impression that he was used to getting what he wanted. Usually with money.

"I'm here with someone," she said, tilting her head towards Silvio and, unfortunately, the barnacle Diana, now attached to his hip. The gentleman looked over, chuckled, and looked back at Lia.

"You sure? I mean, I'm not wanting to step on anyone's toes here... in fact, I'd be happy to go ask his permission to take you to dinner."

Lia's mouth dropped open slightly. Wonderful, this bastard thought she was a whore! Thinking quickly, she suddenly smiled.

"You know, maybe I will take you up on that dinner. That's my... that's Michael, over there. If he says it's okay, we have a date," she said, winking cheekily. This should be interesting, she thought as he strode casually over to Silvio, who now looked to be supporting half of Diana's weight.

Silvio was dressed for a trip to a tropical paradise: he wore a tight fitting t-shirt that accentuated his physique, white pants, and a pair of sunglasses. He also seemed to be wearing Diana Flynn, who hung onto him like an article of clothing, or at least an accessory. It was hard not to stare at Lia, whose sun-kissed skin perfectly complimented her golden hair; he imagined her in some of the summer-wear and swimsuits she'd purchased before-

Diana's hand forcibly reached out up to Silvio's jaw and turned his head away from Lia to face her; Silvio pretended he'd been staring at the ship as he made her excuses. When Diana looked away, Silvio mouthed a prayer in Lia's direction- first a prayer of petetition, then a prayer of thanksgiving when she'd dropped in the pill. 

As the wealthy man approached Lia, Silvio nearly dropped Diana to go intercede- literally. But it would have been awkward to throw their benefactor on the ground or overboard right after they'd left the port. As the man chatted with Lia, then moved over toward him, Silvio raised a curious eyebrow.

The man was attractive for his age, well dressed- the watch and shoes in particular suggested wealth- and groomed, and he carried himself confidently. What most intrigued Silvio was the wedding ring. 

The wealthy man approached Silvio and slapped the Italian on the back like old friends. Grinning, he asked, "How much?"

"For?" Silvio asked innocently.

"The blonde."

"Michael, what-?"

"Not now, Diana."

Silvio was a lover, not a fighter, but a brief moment he nearly became both. But how could he yell 'that's not a whore, it's my wife!' when he was holding up their meal ticket? The only thing that truly stopped him was catching a glimpse of Lia's sardonic grin over the man's shoulder.

"Ah, my mistake. I was confused by the ring on your finger."

Silvio could smell the rum on the man's breath, undoubtedly leading him to share far more than he should.

"Only married her for money. And now, well now I can afford a girl like that one."

He pointed vaguely back in Lia's direction.

Silvio stopped himself from boiling over and forced himself to take advantage of the opportunity.

"Ah... well, that one is very special to me. A personal favorite, if you will."

"Michael, what-?"

"Not now, Diana."

For a moment, Silvio thought about offering Diana to him for a discount... but even a scrounger like Silvio had some principles that were inviolable. With a sigh, he threw out a number that was higher than what he expected the man to pay.

"$2,000. She is worth too much to me to offer her for a cent less."

Despite Lia being the most beautiful woman in the world, there is no way that he-

"Sold."

Cazzo. Silvio smiled.

"Ah, yes. Well, you will pay up front. If you can't then I'm afraid-"

The man opened his wallet and handed Silvio two grand.

Cazzo.

"Well... go freshen up. I will send her to your room- but she will be more... enjoyable with a night of dinner and dancing first. After all, will your ultimate satisfaction not be greater by spending the evening in anticipation? Of course, you are a man of culture. Yes, yes. Goodbye!"

"Michael, what-?"

Diana was rapidly falling asleep standing up. Motioning for Lia to follow him, Silvio headed toward their cabins. They cabins themselves were right next to each other and could be reached both by the hall of the ship and an interior door that linked them. As Silvio deposited Diana in the bed, he picked up her feet and placed them in the bed as well after taking off her shoes. Lia came in and closed the door, sitting in the chair in the corner and crossing her legs.

Silvio fell on her knees in front of her with a smirk.

"So... funny story. You sent that man over to me, no?"

Lia innocently twirled a finger in her golden hair, "Maybe."

"A ha. I thought so. Well, funny story. He thinks you are a prostitute. And he offered to pay me $2,000 for a night with you. And he paid up front."

Silvio, with a playful smirk, removed the two thousand dollars from his pocket.

"Now... hear me out. I would do anything to stop you from selling your body. Yes, I am your husband and you are my wife- but that is so primitive and possessive. No, it is better to say that I am a priest, and your body is my temple... my god. Or goddess, in this case. And unlike the missionaries who go out to try to bring more people into their church, you inspire such depths of worship in me that I prefer to keep you all to myself, yes? Well. With that established, I wonder if we can't both profit from our vacation here. After all, I appear to be whoring myself for a couple cabins, spending money, and whatever else Diana buys for us. Let us do the same for your wealthy friend. Each night, we spend a couple hours charming our older 'paramours' before the pills or alcohol knocks them out- and then we spend the evening together indulging ourselves however we wish. In the morning, we wake up next to our lovers and tell them tales of the debauchery and hedonism they engaged in the previous evening. And if they want us in the morning- 'ah, well after last night I couldn't possibly.' What do you think, fiore de Venezia? If not that, we could perhaps try the badger game we mentioned? It seemed like your interested party married for money; he might be willing to pay to keep the marriage going. What would your prefer?"

Lia, still sitting on the chair, grinned as Silvio slid forward, still kneeling, and kissed her knee with a smirk.

"Or would prefer that I engage in some worshiping as you consider both options?"

It was getting harder to think by the second, with Silvio positioned where he was, his hands sliding up her legs and under her dress while he placed kisses on her thigh. Staying upright was becoming impossible, in fact, and as she began to slide down in the chair, a rude snore had her jerking upright again.

"Questa donna-" Another rude snore, and Diana Flynn rolled over in her drug-induced sleep. Lia ran her hand over her face and shook her head, trying to think past the arousal, and the subsequent interruption by the chicken blocker.

"We'd get a hell of a lot more, running the badger game. I can certainly dig in, collect all the information I can from him, which should be pretty easy if he's loaded. He likely won't even remember. But not being detected by that same man for the rest of the time on this ship would prove awkward, I think," she said, not bothering to speak quietly.

There weren't an awful lot of shops on the boat, but the ones that were there were all absurdly expensive, and carried high-end items such as jewelry and clothing. Onshore, they might even score some lovely art, or furnishings.

"Let's whore ourselves out, as you say. A few hours won't kill us... not me, anyway. I'm pretty sure you're pulling the shorter straw in this little venture," she said, visibly shuddering as she spared another glance at the woman on the bed, "but if you're up for it, so am I. Just promise me," she said now, leaning forward in the chair and resting her arms on Silvio's shoulders, "that we will indeed enjoy some part of this cruise together. Because... questi Americani sono un disastro!"

Silvio stood and cast a blanket over Diana Flynn. Now, there was just an occasionally snoring lump on the bed. Less of a mood killer. With a grin, Silvio returned to his worship, kneeling in front of Lia. His hands slid up her legs to rest at her hips. He kissed her thigh, then slid the small silken fabric down her legs and placed it in his pocket; it wouldn't do for Diana to find any evidence.

Silvio stayed on his knees for a long time. He was devout as he ministrated to Lia. Half an hour later, his tongue ached, his fingers were sore, his knees were protesting, and his shirt- and possibly the chair- was ruined, but he was perfectly content.

Well, almost perfectly content; his white pants nearly tore with the strain they were facing.

Silvio had led Lia along, composing a symphony of her moans, shouts, and whispers. When the final, contented sigh flowed from her lips, he looked up at her adoringly.

She looked down on him, past the length of her body, and allowed herself a minute to rest in a state of satisfied release. Then she took Silvio's hand and led him to the shower.

The bathrooms on cruise ships were miniscule. The showers themselves, non-existant. Somehow, though, Silvio and Lia made it work, with only a single knee to Silvio's chin and one small gouge in Lia's lower back, courtesy of the shower handle. As they stumbled back out into the main cabin, dripping wet and laughing, Lia lost her balance and tripped backwards, with Silvio grabbing her just in time to cushion her fall, somewhat. When he landed on her, both grinned, and they were at it again, all teeth and tongue and lips as Silvio shifted his hips and-

"MIBLECANSEEYOH!" Diana hollered, her groggy voice deflating the moment like a balloon. The timing this woman had! The adjoining door had been left open between the two cabins, and they heard a thump as Diana fell out of the bed. 

"Merda!" Silvio and Lia uttered simultaneously. She was awake and headed this way, and they were naked, on the floor, and mid-coitus. Limbs tangling furiously, they disengaged, got to their feet, and wasted an entire, long second staring at each other stupidly. Lia broke eye contact first, reaching into the nearest suitcase, Silvio's, and grabbing a pair of swim trunks, which she tossed at him.

Fortunately, they were baggy.

Lia dove across the bed to her suitcase, further away, and scrambled into a one piece just as Diana Flynn entered their cabin on wobbly legs. 

"...the hell was in that drink? Heh. i always was a bit of a lightweight," she slurred, then turned her attention to a shirtless Silvio. 

"Well, look at you all wet and flushed. Been out in the pool? You should have woken me!" As if. 

"If you two don't mind, I have a thing," Lia said, looking down at a watch that wasn't there. Grabbing a dress off of a hanger in the tiny closet, she went back into the tiny bathroom and shut the door. Whats-his-face was expecting her at 6, and it was already 5:30. 

-

At five after, Lia was escorted to Stephan Cassidy's 'standing rez' table, where the man himself was already seated. He rose to greet her, kissing the back of her hand. It took everything she had in her not to wipe it off against the satin of her dark green cocktail dress as she sat down. Without asking, Stephan poured her a too-large glass of white wine from the bottle already on the table.

Fortunately, the wine was good. Unfortunately, the company was not. Mr. Cassidy talked of nothing but himself and his investments, every one of which sounded exceptionally shady, at best. Lia began to wonder if she hadn't accidentally dropped the first small tablet into her own drink when she found herself nearly falling asleep at the table. Cassidy was too self-involved to even notice her lack of interest.

"...thought we could go dancing. Shall we?"

"Huh? Oh," Lia said, lifting her head from where it had been dangling dangerously close to her dinner plate, the rest of her steak swimming around in a pool of steak sauce on her plate, uneaten. "Sure, why the hell not," she said unenthusiastically. There was no reason to bother feigning interest... this man either didn't notice or didn't care. It was all going to end the same way for him, right? Lia allowed herself to be led next door to a smoky little dance club, where a jazz ensemble was midway through 'Cotton Tail'. It was very dark in the room, with only the stage lights providing illumination, but Lia recognized Silvio's silhouette the second she saw him. 

To his credit, he looked like he really was enjoying himself, even if his dance partner looked to be half drunk. Was she still loaded from last time, or had Silvio already started doping her again? If so, Lia needed to catch up, quick. When Cassidy led her to the dance floor, her eyes met Silvio's for a long moment before Lia's view of him was blocked by her date's form. 

Next drink, TWO pills. She didn't want to waste her whole evening with this oaf.

Silvio flexed his chin. Next time... next time there would be a bigger bathroom.  Silvio did not always think clearly when Lia... he stopped, smiling... he'd almost called her 'Lia Mattaranzi' in his head. No, he definitely liked the sound of 'Lia Violante' much better. He liked the smell of her, the sounds of her quiet moans in his ears, the taste of her still on his lips, the feel of her body as he surged his hips toward her on the floor of the cabin...

The thump of Diana Flynn hitting the floor was the worst sound Silvio had ever heard in his entire life.

Silvio put on the baggy swim trunks with the joy of someone dressing for a funeral. 

"I tried to wake you, Diana, but you insisted you needed to rest up before the wild night you had planned for us."

He smiled at Diana and moved to embrace her and kiss her cheek- but only so he was free to watch Lia walk away. Silvio sighed longingly as Lia glanced over her shoulder.

As Diana tried to turn the half embrace into a full one, Silvio's eyes went wide and he shifted his feet so that the protrusion in his swim trunks would be pointed away from her. God knows what she would do.

"Come, Diana, we must get ready for dinner, no? Let us enjoy ourselves.

_______

Without a reservation at the steak house, Silvio and Diana visited the place that one of the cruise workers unenthusiastically referred to as 'the cafeteria'. The chicken seemed... safe, but otherwise unappealingly. He wound up with a plate of mashed potatoes and vegetables, sighing double-longingly as he thought of Lia in the steakhouse. Diana droned about what she'd do with the profits from her gold mine and Silvio leapt at the opportunity. Every time she spoke of her rich future, Silvio insisted on toasting to it. Drinking a rich, powerful red, they'd killed a bottle in no time. Sleeping pills were effective for a couple hours, a few at best, but nothing knocked people out like a good bottle of wine. In Silvio's experience, those who drank too much liquor wound up sick, those who drank too much beer wound up bloated, and those who drank too much wine wound up asleep. He continued to wield his tongue like a weapon, charming her and repeatedly bursting out in elaborate, poetic toasts that she couldn't resist. 

Merda, they still had half the bottle left. Wait... that was their second bottle. He had a better tolerance than Diana, but he had had quite a bit of wine himself. With a grin, Silvio rose to his feet and extended a hand to Diana. 

"Come, Diana, you seem like you would enjoy a dance, no? I certainly would."

The dance club on the ship was small, but lively. Silvio flashed a genuine smile for the first time since he'd seen Lia walk away.

"Bene! Diana, join me."

He danced with Diana, using his grace to compensate for the woman's lack of coordination or anything resembling dancing ability. They both seemed to have fun as they twirled through a pair of dances, although by the second one Diana looked like she'd had too much win sloshed about her stomach. Silvio led her out of the club, noticing Lia as he went. They locked eyes, just as they had in their church in Venezia, and Silvio whispered "wow" before his view of her was blocked by Cassidy.

When Silvio appeared in view again, there was a coldness in his eyes directed at Lia's date that the woman had never seen before. She'd seen him angry, of course, getting dragged out of the club when they reunited in Vegas or losing to a bad beat in a poker game. But for the first time, she saw a capacity for violence in the man. Silvio, however, was lost in the crowd as he led Diana away and back to her cabin.

Diana yawned as she re-entered the room. Silvio hefted the mostly full bottle of wine in his hands, then took a long swig of it as he passed it to her and began to unbutton his shirt.

"Sit. Keep drinking that. I will prepare."

With a devilish grin, he stepped away just as she reached for him. Over the next fifteen minutes, as Diana continued to drink the bottle of wine, Silvio 'prepared the room' very slowly. Things were straightened, organized, and the bed was turned down for two. He turned off the lights in the cabin and lit a small candle- not the best idea for a ship's cabin, but he didn't expect to have it on very long. Silvio, his jacket cast aside and his shirt fully unbuttoned, led Diana to the bed in the candlelight. As she reclined on it, he paused.

"Diana... I would like to do things to you, with you... well, they stretch the imagination. They are what many people would call 'dirty'- allow me to refresh myself first."

With a smirk, he turned on the radio to a soft jazz station and headed to the small bathroom, where he turned on the water.

As he sat on the toilet with crossed arms, Silvio considered what he wanted- and what he didn't. He wanted to run to Lia's side, but he forced himself to sit there for fifteen minutes. When he finally shut off the water and emerged, he saw what he was expecting: the candle, jazz, falling water, and wine had done their work, and Diana was snoring contentedly in bed. This time, Silvio didn't expect her to wake until the morning- which was good. He had work to do and plans to change. 

_______

When Silvio returned to the dance club, he had a large bulge in his pants: the camera was unwieldy, but it barely fit into his pocket. He saw Lia's date stumble as they finished a dance, and Silvio appeared at their side in a flash. Wordlessly, he helped Lia support Cassidy's weight and lead him back to their cabin. As they passed a small group of people, Silvio made a joke about his friend overindulging that had them laughing. Safely arrived at their destination, Silvio none-to-gently deposited the man on his back on the bed. Having done so, he spun to Lia- he was wearing the smirk, but there was also a seriousness in his gaze as he raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

"Questo è orribile. What amount of money is worth us not having fun?"

With a wave of his hand, Silvio dismissed his debts to secondary importance. 

"I have a new plan. I do not want to spend this cruise not having fun with these horrible people who look at us like we are pieces of meat and fail to appreciate the masterpieces before them- particularly in your case, fiore. I have the camera with me. Let us blackmail this Philistine. We'll take some... compromising pictures of him. We will strip him down. I am thinking... perhaps if we could get him sitting up, his face clearly buried in your... well, you can pose him however you'd like. And then- when you are done taking pictures with him... I will do the same. I would never ask you to do something I would not do myself, of course. Did he not mentioned that his marriage was only for practical purposes and that a divorce could threaten his finances? Well, perhaps blackmail with a beautiful woman would be enough of a scandal to pay to maintain his marriage? And if it is not... well, I think a scandal involving a naked man would be, no?"

Silvio grinned wickedly.

"Come. Let us take our pictures. Then we will find somewhere to scopare gioiosamente sotto la luna e le stelle. In the morning, when we have arrived in Cabo, we will sit down with the man and blackmail him. He offered up $2,000 so easily that 20-25 thousand might be doable- especially if he gains much more by staying married. Then... let us leave this cruise and vanish into Cabo. We will lose ourselves there, have fun, and return to America whenever we wish. What do you think? I do not decide for us, of course. We are a team."

It was the better plan, all around, now that each had had a taste of what spending any amount of time with Cassidy and Flynn would be like. Lia wasn't particularly keen on the idea of the compromising photographs, at least not initially, but once they got going, it became rather amusing. She began in her bra and panties, shyly posing in uncomfortable positions with Cassidy's nearly comatose body. After a dozen shots or so, though, Silvio and Lia began to have some real fun with it, contorting Stephan into nearly impossible positions while Lia maneuvered herself into utterly unexplainable, albeit hilarious, poses around him. Eventually, the two were laughing so hard and having such a good time, that she tossed her remaining garments aside, and Silvio took several more pictures. A few would never leave their possession, because they were simply too bizarre, or because Lia had forgotten to shift her head away in time to effectively blur or eliminate her visage. They were having so much fun clicking away for their own entertainment that it was nearly a letdown when Silvio ran out of film.

"Surely, out of all of those, you got some dozers," she said, plucking out, one by one, each of the twenty cigarettes she'd managed to shove into Cassidy's mouth. Silvio believed the word she was looking for was 'doozies', but he was currently struck mute by the vision of his naked wife pulling unlit cigarettes out of some entitled slob's mouth, bent over and wearing nothing but high heels. 

"I do hope you have some lovely ideas for Diana," she continued, tossing the cigarettes aside and turning to face Silvio. She couldn't help but smile at the look of sheer adoration on his face. 

"I know what that look leads to, il mio coniuge insaziabile, but we have more work to do first," she said, grabbing up her clothing and putting it on in the order that she found it. Her bra was still on Cassidy's head, making him look like Mickey Mouse. "Shall we go?"

-

Lia really fell into the role of photographer when they got to Diana's cabin. It should have bothered her that the insufferable woman, even unconscious, was anywhere near her undressed husband, but she was so focussed on utterly humiliating the woman that it took twice as long as it had with Cassidy. Lia was a director now, too, often putting the camera down to enter the scene herself, making small adjustments here and there to make Flynn as unflattering as was humanly possible. The revenge she had craved was now hers.

"Okay, just a few more. Wait, are those fake eyelashes? Pull one off, and see if you can get your foot in her-"

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Silvio and Lia froze, staring at each other stupidly for the second time in as many days. Silvio grabbed his pants as Lia answered.

"Yes?"

"Room service!" They hadn't ordered room service. Had Diana, before she'd passed out? Lia answered the door, using her body to block the view of Silvio behind her, still half naked and now scooping a completely naked Flynn off of the floor and dumping her onto the bed, where he hastily pulled a sheet over her body. 

"Oh, my mistake. I used my friend's phone to order for myself... I'm in the room next door. Would you kindly wheel the cart over there? Yes thank you," she said, and closed the door before the waiter could reply. She could hear the wheels of the cart squeaking towards their cabin, though, so she went through the adjoining door and pulled their entry door open. After signing Diana's name to the ticket, adding an exorbitant gratuity, and telling the young man to keep the wine coming, she closed the door after him and turned to Silvio, who was now standing in the other doorway, arms crossed and smiling.

"And what have we ordered?" He asked, his shirt drifting open as he stepped towards the cart and pulled off one of the plate covers. Filet mignon, grilled asparagus, and a lovely risotto greeted them. Lia lifted the other, and found lobster tail, fingerling potatoes in sweet butter, and sauteed green beans. A bottle of chardonnay was perched in a bucket of ice close by, as was a basket of crusty french bread, a container of antipasto, and an assortment of exotic fruits and imported cheeses.

"Guess we're eating in?" Lia grinned, making sure to shut the damn door between the cabins this time. 

-

After they'd stuffed themselves, the pair left the cabin and strolled the upper decks, hand in hand as the sun disappeared into the horizon. Just as they began a second circuit, the sky above them exploded in a rainbow of color. Lia screamed.

"Va tutto bene, Amore Mio. Sono fuochi d'artificio!" Silvio shouted over the din. Lia looked back up at the sky, heart pounding, and a moment later, back over at Silvio's face, which was now alternating blue, green, red. He looked utterly alive right that moment, and she couldn't have loved him any more than she did. Pushing him backwards and under a nearby stairwell, she wrapped herself around him, then reached to unfasten his pants.

"Qualcuno potrebbe-" he began, but not with much heart in it. His heart was somewhere else.

"I don't care. You promised me, under the stars. You never said what kind, or color," she said into his ear, then bit down on it. 

Taking the blackmail photos had made for a long, interesting evening, but he was glad it was over. He had even posed for a couple pictures with Cassidy, in case the man proved to be more stubborn than they'd anticipated to blackmail efforts. They'd handle him in the morning. Silvio grinned contentedly as he strolled the deck with Lia, hand in hand. 

As the first fireworks exploded, Silvio couldn't help but remember Carnivale in Venezia. Had Lia's father ever allowed her to partake in Carnivale? Based on her reaction to the fireworks and that he'd had to sneak into her bedroom to see her... probably not. He was about to raise the subject with her when she practically tackled him under the nearby stairwell. 

As she wrapped her legs around him, Silvio once again experienced the soaring feeling that was Lia Violante. She was like one of those tropical frogs that poisons with a single touch: a single kiss, a single glance at her body, a single push under the stairwell as she reached for his belt and he was completely under her spell.

"Un momento, fiore. Un momento."

His body protesting, Silvio extracted himself from Lia. Also under the stairwell were several assorted signs on stands. He grabbed two of them. They were at the very front of the ship, where the boat began to narrow, and Silvio quickly set up the two "Repairs in progress - do not enter" signs on both sides of the boat; if anyone were to interrupt them, they had to ignore the signs.

When he returned to Lia he stopped short, physically struck by the appearance of perfection. Her golden hair was draped to one side, and on the other side, a strap had fallen to reveal a bare shoulder. Moving quickly, Silvio lifted his wife in his arms. Walking slowly, since it was hard to navigate while his wife was chewing on his ear and lower lip, Silvio made his way to the very front of the ship, where he'd set up a long, reclining lawn chair. At this point, Lia had twisted in his arms to wrap her legs around him, and he lowered himself gently back on the lawn chair.

They cast of their clothes as if they were made of fire, throwing themselves at each other with the frenetic, joyful lust and sense of fun that had defined their relationship. The fireworks continued to go off sporadically above them as the couple endeavored to make fireworks of their own.

Lia was on top of Silvio, straddling him and kissing him, when the fireworks' grand finale began. 

"Spin around," murmured Silvio as Lia kissed his neck. Smirking, Lia rotated on him so that they were both facing forward toward the fireworks.

It was another moment that Silvio would never forget: Lia moving rhythmically as he held onto her hips and he studied her perfect back, even as the fireworks continued to explode in front of them. As the fireworks' finale abated, Lia arched her back and began to scream. Two minutes later, they continued kissing each other softly, savoring the sensations. They froze as they heard footsteps approached the sign.

"Repairs in progress," said a skeptical, older female voice.

"Wish I could get some repairs like that," sighed another woman. 

Then the footsteps went away. Silvio and Lia grinned. As the ocean night began to cool, Silvio found a couple 'emergency blankets' that they wrapped themselves in. Neither wanted to go back to their cabins... so they didn't. They stayed wrapped in their blankets, and Silvio talked about Carnivale- the magical stories of the Venetian celebration. Silvio's heart ached to see his home city again, but he didn't sense the same from Lia- perhaps because she'd never gotten to see it like he did.

Later, they made love under the stars- the real ones, this time. 

______

Just before dawn, they trudged past the signs back toward their cabin. Both of them yawned multiple times, and Silvio had his arm around Lia.

"So... me sneak into the darkroom here on the ship. I will develop the pictures and then we can go have a chat with your friend. He seems our best bet. Diana... well, I can't say enough about her marriage to think she'd be as lucrative a target for blackmail, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt. We should be reaching Cabo shortly."

Lia kissed Silvio farewell, then checked in to make sure that Cassidy and Flynn were still sleeping off their drug and alcohol fueled evenings. Content to see that both still had a pulse, she trudged back to her cabin and fell onto the bed there, asleep before her face hit the pillow. In what seemed like two minutes' time, Silvio was gently shaking her awake.

"Per favore, per favore, ho bisogno di più di qualche minuto di sonno," she begged. "Ten more minutes?"

"It's been four hours, Fiore," Silvio smiled, sitting up and running his hands through his hair. Yummy. "Diana is already awake, I hear her shower running. I suspect Signor Cassidy is awake, as well. We need to move quickly, now- the boat is docking in less than an hour."

"Cazzo," Lia grunted, then rolled out of bed and headed into the bathroom. A shower and coffee were mandatory. By the time she'd finished and stepped out again, Silvio had left and returned with the caffeine she so desperately needed. She drank it too fast, scalding her throat as she spoke.

"We save time by splitting up, yes? I'll handle Cassidy, you deal with Flynn, and we meet back here to get our things and disembark," she said, then smiled at Silvio's expression. 

"I can handle him, Silvio. And if I can't, this can," she said, holding up her steak knife from last night's filet. 

-

Stephan didn't attack Lia, but he sure looked like he wanted to. She watched him run the gamut of facial expressions as he looked at the pictures of himself, nude and appearing to be having Lia for dinner the night before. The red in his face drained to a sickly yellowish green when he got to the pictures of himself seemingly doing the same to Silvio.

"Jesus Chr-"

"Save it. Open the safe in your closet," she said in a voice that brooked no argument. Cassidy plowed past her, fingers working the dial and then pulling open the small door. He had brought much, much more than any sane person should on a vacation, but Lia had no time to wonder what the money might have been intended for. Feeling generous, she only took half and then, tipping an imaginary hat and spinning on her heel, she left. The pictures, she left on his cabin door, stabbed into place with the steak knife.

-

Silvio didn't have it so easy. Lia could hear Flynn wailing and cursing as she hastily packed their bags in the adjoining cabin. She could hear Silvio when he spoke, but his words weren't clear. Lia took their suitcases and left their cabin, slamming the door extra loud so that Silvio knew time was up, it was time to go. The next sound she heard was breaking glass, and Flynn's door flew open. Silvio grabbed his suitcase in one hand, and Lia's hand in the other, then practically dragged her down the hallway towards the nearest exit.

"Stairs. No time to wait for an elevator. She's gone crazy," Silvio gasped out as the stairwell door clicked shut behind him. They flew down several flights in the claustrophobic stairwell, and eventually emerged onto the deck where passengers were slowly making their way off of the boat, a sea of floppy hats and sunglasses. The two squeezed in amongst them and waited impatiently as the line crawled forward.

"I didn't get much, I'm afraid. She was already financially unstable after the gold mine, even more than I anticipated. Frankly, I'm surprised she had enough to cover this cruise," he said, bringing a fistful of hundreds out of his pocket with a shrug. "We will still have a nice time in Cabo. How did you do with Cassidy?"

If Lia's grin was any wider, her face would split in two.

"How does fifty thousand sound to you, Bellissimo?"

"Diana, I already explained this to you. It's very simple. You give me money, and I keep these pictures from going public."

"Why would I care about that?

"Well, I'm sure your husband would," said Silvio, confidently.

"Maybe if he was alive," chuffed Diana. "Besides, I used everything I had left to cover the mine and this trip. Now let me see those pictures!"

Silvio raised an eyebrow, holding tightly onto the pictures. 

"I'll pay you for them, Michael, just let me see."

Not knowing what to do, Silvio accepted the four hundred dollars and stuffed them into his pocket, handing over the pictures with a frown. Diana was grinning and tapping her feet as she looked down at the pictures of her an Silvio.

"Gawd! I should get these framed. I was starting to doubt you, Michael, but these really show all those things you wanted to do to me, huh? Guess you're not all talk after all."

The next thing he knew, Silvio was dodging the wailing, cursing Flynn and she began talking about all the things they could do together; as he slipped under one of her outstretched arms and sprinted for the door, he heard glass hit the wall next to him. He had his suitcase as he spun into the hallway, and quickly grabbed Lia's hand as he headed for the stairs, explaining there was no time to wait for an elevator.

It was only when they had melted into the crowd that Silvio began to get comfortable again. He removed his sunglasses from his pocket and slid them onto his face, then plucked a hat off the head of a man walking back towards the ship.

He reached into his pocket and sighed as he explained how he didn't get much.

If Lia's grin was any wider, her face would split in two.

"How does fifty thousand sound to you, Bellissimo?"

Silvio nodded as they walked forward together, processing the number. Lia saw it hit him slowly: first there was a twinkle in his eye, then a spring in his step, and finally the wide smile spread across his face and he laughed, applauding her.

"Fifty?!" he said, in disbelief. 

In the middle of the crowd, he grabbed her and lifted her up into the air, spinning her like a ballet dancer before lowering her into a kiss.

"THERE SHE IS!" yelled an angry male voice from the ship. In retrospect, it was probably not the best move to lift Lia  up above the crowd. Grabbing her hand, the couple began to weave and dodge their way through the crowd. In a few short minutes, they found themselves tucked away in an alley in Cabo San Lucas. Silvio kissed Lia again, and the cool brick of the building behind her lightly scraped her back as she felt his excited weight pressing against her. When he broke the kiss, he kept his hands on her face and rested his forehead against hers. Grinning, he looked down at her under his mussed up hair and sunglasses; the hat had been lost in his escape. 

"Sei perfetto, Lia Violante," he said, softly. 

Forcing himself away from her before Lia's appearance tempted him further, as it almost always did, Silvio leaned back against the building next to her and crossed his arms as he looked to her.

"I propose," said Silvio, "that we wire the bulk of the money north. Launching our club, our movie theater... it has not been cheap. And I think there are couple other businesses we could discuss launching, yes? Perhaps if we pay off some of my debt, even more credit will be made available to us. Between this, the mine, the ring... we are doing quite well.  But... perhaps we only send $35,000 or so north. With the rest of your ill gotten gains, we stay down here and you live as a tropical queen- and I, your faithful consort. I have a desire to find fun, excitement, perhaps a way to make some money, or even to invest. What do you say, fiore? What is it that you want from Cabo? Oh, and it goes without saying that I would very much like us to visit some of the beaches here. As we said, we deserve a vacation, no?"

Lia had taken to toying with the ring on her finger, one that she'd had to remove and hide away several times too many lately, for her taste. She had come to enjoy the little clink of sound it made whenever she picked up a glass with her left hand, and several glasses were being lifted as they explored both the tourist traps and the hidden gems that only the locals knew about, but were all too happy to share the locations of, for a few exchanged bills. Silvio's four hundred was gone the first night, but the couple didn't care. The bulk of the cash was safely wired away, and they'd maintained just enough sobriety and sense to pay for two nights in a hotel before hitting the town. 

They'd discovered one of the quaint balnearios, and one of many summer festivals there, in full swing. Food, drink, dancing, more drink, and Lia on her first ever shopping spree, on which she purchased all manner of artwork and kitsch, insisting that it was needed to decorate their new house, a house which they hadn't even bought yet. Silvio, ever the doting husband, didn't even bat an eye when it cost them more to ship the items to Las Vegas than they were actually worth. Sentimental value, after all, was worth so much more. 

A bit sunburned and hungover, day two meant a breakfast of bloody marys, and food that neither could identify but that was tasty nonetheless. Snorkeling on the least populated stretch of beach that they could find was next, but after an hour of chasing colorful fish around, Lia was ready to call it quits. 

"We have not properly slept in three days," she laughed as she flopped down on a beach towel next to Silvio. Her ring began its circuit on her finger again, around and around, as she spoke. "Are vacations supposed to be so tiring? I thought people got fat and lazy on them," she said as she readjusted her sunglasses. They were under an umbrella, but the sun...she was so bright! 

"If I am challenged to another Scoville Slipper drinking contest tonight, I may not live to see tomorrow," she said, rolling on her side and propping her head on her hand. 

"I believe it is called 'Scoville Sipper', which is why they bested us, Fiore. There was no sipping done last night. Gulping, maybe even some slamming..."

"Mmm. I definitely recall lots of slamming," she murmured, smiling down at her own reflection in the lenses of his sunglasses. "My head wasn't the only thing sore this morning," she said, then flopped back down onto her back again. It was a lot of effort, propping oneself upright. Perhaps the earth's gravitational pull was stronger here in Mexico.

"What is left that you would like to do, here?" She asked. "I really would love to see these 'volcano rabbits' I've heard people talk about, but we're not anywhere near a volcano. Oh, did you know that chocolate originated in Mexico? Surely that means it tastes better here, yes? We should find some and see. We never did get around to having wedding cake..."

This... this is the closest to heaven one can get without being in Venezia with Lia Violante, thought Silvio as he sighed contentedly for the third time in as many minutes. Food, drink, dancing, Lia- the entire world seemed like it had been designed with his sensory indulgence in mind.

If Silvio died now... he would die happy.

"What is left that you would like to do here?"

"More sla-"

"Do not say more slamming."

Silvio's mouth shut with an audible click and he was silent for a few seconds, deep in thought. 

"More... sla...thering on of suntan lotion to work on our tans?"

"Nice save, genio."

Silvio shrugged.

For a moment, he considered himself dodging lava as he chased around a rabbit. Silvio was as fast and quick as a fox, despite his general lack of fighting prowess, and he imagined guessing right and scooping up a rabbit by the scruff of its neck, stepping over a stream of lava as he prepared to place the suddenly docile animal into the arms of his beloved.

Suddenly, the ground would shudder and tremble. The rabbit, with a eye piercing REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, would lose all control and begin biting at Silvio with his demonically sharp teeth. The volcano, sensing the presence of two Italians whose ancestors had survived the eruption of Vesuvio, would suddenly explode in flame, raining down sulfuric death that would-

"Perhaps the chocolate?" suggested Silvio.

_______

It hadn't taken long to find a small chocolate factory willing to give them a tour. A man who could speak broken English led them around, showing them a room full of many different ingredients, then slowly taking them through the process of how the chocolate was made. At the end of the tour, they received a large jar of chocolate, still pleasantly warm from the process of being made. Silvio and Lia licked it off each other's fingers, sharing a knowing look of how they pondered how they could employ that chocolate in their extracurricular activities. 

They bought three jars.

As Silvio hailed a cab to take them back to their hotel, Lia stifled a yawn. Mio dio, the last few days- and nights- had been busy.

They climbed into the cab, looking like the honeymooners they were as they practically sat in each other's laps. Lia reached a hand to the back of her husband's hear, scratching him lightly like the dog, or perhaps the fox, that he was. He turned to her with a wicked grin on his face as he whispered at her.

"When we return... I have something new I'd like to try."

Lia raised an eyebrow as Silvio leaned over to her, alternating his words with nibbling at her ear.

"I would like... to take you to bed... and have us... together... sleep for ten hours."

Pulling away from her, he winked, then rested his tired head on her shoulder. The cabbie had to wake them up when they arrived, and this time as they walked into the room and cast aside their clothes, they shared a different sort of excitement. Having pulled down the shades and locked the doors, they were soon both lightly snoring, hands clasped in the middle of the bed.

______

When they awoke nine hours later, Lia blinked and wiped at her mouth immediately. She'd been sleeping on Silvio's naked back, using him as a pillow. She wiped away the small pile of drool that was now sliding down his shoulder blade as she grinned. The man was the heaviest sleeper she knew. 

Feeling more refreshed an energized than she had since they left Vegas- and, frankly, since she first reconnected with Silvio- Lia stretched contentedly as she enjoyed the feeling of the smooth cotton sheets on her body. 

Well, a few more minutes of napping wouldn't hurt anyone. Besides, it was dark out. Considering standing to see the clock, Lia shrugged. It didn't matter- just a few more minutes.

______

Whether it was the tropical climate, the sexual exhaustion that they shared, their comfort with each other, or simply the new moon... well, no one factor could explain how Lia and Silvio managed to sleep for fourteen hours straight.

But Lia was awoken by a man banging on the door, demanding that they either pay for another night or vacate immediately.

Silvio snored contentedly, undisturbed by the ruckus in the hallway.

She should have known better. There was a phone in the room, and the desk clerk would have simply called to make the request. She'd slept like the dead, but not so much so that she wouldn't have heard a phone ringing. Once they'd disembarked the ship, though, she'd allowed herself to fall into a false sense of security. Surely, nothing would happen to a bride and groom on their honeymoon.

Lia rose from the bed, hair tousled as she pulled the top sheet off the bed and tucked it around herself. The banging at the door continued as she reached into her purse and pulled out several large bills. With the chain still engaged, she opened the door and reached her arm through the crack, waving the cash.

"Altre due notti- uh. We'll be staying another couple of nights," she muttered, her brain still not firing on all cylinders. The answering pain was sharp, immediate as her forearm was jerked violently forward. Out in the hallway, the handful of money fluttered soundlessly to the floor just as Lia's face made abrupt contact with the door that was then kicked inward, throwing her back into a wall and knocking every stitch of wind from her lungs.

Her face was wet, and she was falling, and it was getting very dark in here.

Silvio, still on the bed, heard what sounded like his wife in the throes of passion. He reached over in the bed, smiling, only to find nothing but cooling sheets. When his eyes snapped open and he sat up, the room was empty, with only the still-swinging chain on the broken door to indicate that something terrible had just happened.

Silvio blinked, hearing his wife moan. Well, she certainly seemed rested. Mio dio, how long did he sleep? Something crashed and Silvio's eyes opened. When he noticed the broken door, he was out of bed in a flash. He stopped only to slide on his suit pants and grab his shiny Beretta from his holster.

Barechested, barefoot, and barely understanding what the fuck was happening, Silvio sprinted out into the hallway with his gun. Questions of who was doing this and why didn't matter at the moment- all that mattered was getting down the stairs. Silvio had always been agile and quick, despite a lack of pure strength, and he made use of it as he flew down the stairs and ran into the lobby, just in time to see the two man dragging Lia roughly outside; she was barely conscious, if at all. She was wearing one of Silvio's t-shirts, but he saw a long, bare leg get dragged through the door as it closed behind her.

Silvio could feel the blood in his ears pounding as he slowed to a jog behind the men. Didn't think he would be any trouble, huh?

Maybe they'd been told about his skill with a gun- which has been nonexistent. And... well, they were mostly right. Aurora Mastrosimone had taught him the basics, but he was still only hitting one practice bottle out of ten on a good day. 

Still, how good did you have to be to miss from a foot away?

If there was one skill Silvio had, it was moving silently and staying hidden. He blended into the crowd as much as a shirtless, shoeless man could- and by the time they noticed him, it was too late. The Beretta was a small pistol with less stopping power than something like the M1911, but Silvio practically used it like a melee weapon, pushing it against the first man's back and pulling the trigger three times before raising it to the other man, this one a foot or so away and squeezing the trigger another three. The car that they'd been carrying Lia to screeched as it pulled away into the road; Silvio considered shooting at it with his last bullet as he drove away, but decided against it; with his aim, he was more likely hit someone in the crowd. 

Instead, he clicked the safety on and slipped the gun into his pocket, moving quickly to where Lia had been dropped on the sidewalk. For a moment, Silvio looked at the bodies and felt like throwing up, but his cold fear at seeing Lia chased that away: his wife, when he pulled her up, had her chest covered in blood. Nearly fainting, Silvio realized she had fallen on the back of the first man. 

He exhaled.

Forcing himself to move, he lifted Lia as best he could; she had a lithe, dancer's body, but brute strength had never been his forte. Still, he got her on his shoulder and up the stairs to their room.

All around them on the sidewalk and in the lobby, people were shouting, screaming, and probably calling the cops. But the gun kept them away from Silvio.

Silvio had become a master of stealth in Venezia, both in his days as a scoundrel and especially as he dodged the hunters that Lia's father sent after him. One of the things he'd learned was the dangers of trying to make too great a leap at once; sometime, the fox would run too far from one hiding place to the next, even if the hounds hadn't been sure exactly where he was. He'd done something similar on multiple occasions, both in Las Vegas and Venezia: make a short jump to hide, rather than getting nabbed during a long one. Whenever Silvio checked in anywhere, he made a habit of noting any rooms that were out of order: these were perfect bolt holes, and not places most people thought to check immediately.

In this case, there was one two floors above them. Cursing under the strain of carrying another human being, even a smaller one, up the flight of stairs, Silvio returned to their room, deposited Lia in a sitting position ner and grabbed a few haphazard things: the cash, his lockpicks, more ammunition, and some clothes. He couldn't risk packing anything else. Lia had caught her wind again and was trying to say something to him, but he shushed her as he helped her to her feet. She still wasn't moving great, but Silvio took her hand and led her along.

As they made their way into the hall, Silvio moved toward the stairs on the side, rather than the center of the building. It was slow progress, holding Lia in one hand and their stuff in the other, but they made it up too floors with a focus on one step at a time. Silvio could hear voices that sounded like the police from the bottom of the stairwell. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the bloody sheet from Lia and tossed it out the window down toward the alley behind the building. If no one had seen it fall- and Silvio hadn't seen anyone- they may find it and assume they'd snuck out back. At this point, they could only hope. Thirty seconds later he'd picked the lock on the out of order room he'd seen earlier and led Lia inside.

The room seemed to be out of order due to a large, red stain on the rug. Silvio hoped it was wine, rather than blood, but he wasn't being too picky at the moment. He helped Lia into the shower, washing the blood off her and helping her quickly dress, before noticing that blood spray from the men he'd shot had hit his face and chest as well. 

As he stood under the shower, wiping another man's blood- no, the blood of two men- from his face and bare chest, Silvio remembered the impact of the bullets hitting them, the way they'd fallen to the ground.

Placing his hands on his knees, Silvio promptly began to vomit.

As Silvio spat the acidic taste from his mouth, still doubled over, a hand came to rest on his back. Two feet appeared behind his, and then Lia's other hand came down to join the first as water continued to cascade down around him. When he straightened and turned into his wife's arms, he found her fully dressed in there with him, her clothing and hair plastered to her skin. Without a word or a sound, their arms came around each other, and they stood there that way for some time, long past the point when the water ran cold. Eventually, Lia reached out and turned it off.

"Vieni con me," she said quietly, pulling him gently from the shower enclosure and grabbing every thin towel off of the rack nearby. With great care, she began to dry him off, speaking low, but firmly now, in a voice that did not match her pale, bruising countenance. 

"I would never step out of place and tell my husband what to do, but I'm going to do it now, and you will listen to me, Silvio," she began. Silvio was looking at her, but if he was shocked or angry, he didn't show it.

"You must make peace with it, and then you must put it away. It is not you, it does not define you. You did-" Here, she reached for his chin and lifted it back up so they were making eye contact again. His gaze had dropped, whether in shame or shock or disbelief, she didn't know. He needed to hear this, and he needed to heed her words before it ate him alive.

"You did exactly the only thing you could have done. Do you understand me, Silvio? You had no choice. They gave you none." She could see him thinking now, mulling it over. That was good.

"I love you. This changes nothing about us, or you. You must understand this," she said. There was a niggling worm of terror wanting to crawl into her chest, perhaps wanting to join the one already in her heart, the one that had taken up residence there when she was just a toddler and her father had killed a man for the first time, and such of large piece of his humanity had died. He had never looked the same after that day, and it had only grown worse as the years went by and he rose into his position of power. Now, he was a shadow of his former self, and was the coldest, most cruel man in all of Italy.

She would die before Silvio became that man, that soulless creature. Taking his hand, she lifted it so that he could see his own wedding band. 

"This. This is not just a symbol of love, It's one of faith, too, and of responsibility. You honored that today," she said, then left him for a brief moment to fetch some of his clothing. Once she'd returned with it, he took it from her and dressed himself quickly.

As he did this, Lia stood close to him, but her eyes were distant now as she wondered what the odds were that her father was involved in all of this.

Silvio looked at her a long time before he nodded, kissed her cheek, and croaked, "Are you hurt?"

When Lia shook her head, he seemed to relax. They could hear the police outside shouting; someone was yelling excitedly, but the couple seemed safe where they were, squirrelled away. They'd move after dark, slip out the side exit, and travel as stealthily as they ever did in Venezia to get back to Las Vegas. 

When he was done dressing, he took her hand and led her to the bed. He kissed her once, briefly, before they settled down together. He fell asleep agains the rise and fall of her breast; her breathing seemed to calm him. Just before he nodded off, he mumbled not to worry, that he would be okay, that everything would be okay. 

Was he speaking to her? To himself? Either way, he desperately hoped that he was right.