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‘You ask him!’
‘No, you!’
Jedediah bites back an irritated groan as he listens to the trio of men bicker outside his tent; they’ve been loitering around for almost ten minutes now, arguing amongst themselves, evidently under the impression that he can’t hear what they’re saying – though it’s likely the whole museum can hear them, they’re that damn loud.
They’re wasting their time anyway. He already knows what they’re going to ask him and the answer is a solid NO.
He’s grateful that the two dioramas have finally established a comfortable truce. In fact, it’s a hell of a lot easier having the Romans as allies and he’s not sure why it had to take a giant night guard to make him realise that. But ever since he struck up a steadfast friendship with Octavius - which eventually blossomed into romance - he’s noticed that a handful of his men have become more than a little curious about the Roman general who’s always dropping by the Old West.
In short, Octavius has himself a little cowboy fan club and he doesn’t even know it.
It suddenly falls quiet. Jedediah continues to polish off his boots, a countdown already commencing in his head.
3, 2, 1…
Almost on cue, one of his men - Jeong, the very tall and unusually quiet wrangler - stumbles through the tent flap with a helpful push from his comrades, and hovers over Jedediah awkwardly, straw hat grasped in both hands. It seems odd that the others would choose the emotionally stunted one to speak on their behalf but Jedediah can’t be bothered to question their decision. The boots, and the rag used to polish them, are immediately dropped to the floor.
‘You boys really needa start usin’ your “indoor” voices when you’re tryna be sneaky.’ Jed takes his sweet old time slipping his feet back into his shoes and doing up the buckles while Jeong lingers uncomfortably in the background. ‘I’m gonna put it to you plain and simple – the car rides are mine and Octavius’s thing. You’re perfectly welcome to use the RC if you feel like a midnight cruise, but I’m not havin’ you all crammed in the backseat while Octy and I are on important business.’
‘Important business?!’ someone exclaims from outside the tent and Jed takes this opportunity to stride over and open the flaps; there’s a loud 'oof!' as two more of his inner circle, Butch and Chuck, tumble in gracefully, landing in a very unflattering heap.
‘What in the Sam Hill do you mean, “important business?”’ Repeats Butch, struggling to his feet. ‘The only “business” you plums get up to is seein’ how many wheelies you can do around the Ocean Life display without Gigantor catchin’ you!’
‘Yeah, you guys get all the fun!’ Chuck adds, brushing the dust off his chaps. ‘We want in!’
‘I already told you horn-toads,’ Jedediah growls, crossing his arms stubbornly, ‘you can borrow the RC whenever you want, just not when we’re usin’ it.’
Butch pulls a face. ‘And why the heck not? You’re always harpin’ on at us to rub elbows with the boys on the other side. Why not start with your Octopus buddy?’
‘Octavius – you might wanna learn how to say his name before you start makin’ friends with ’im!’ Jedediah pinches the bridge of his nose, wondering how drunk he must have been when he started hanging around these morons. ‘Look, it’s nothin’ personal. It’s just “our thing,” y’know? If you wanna make nice to a Roman, there are plenty of others to spare.’
Chuck’s thick brows raise ever so slightly; he eyeballs the other two in a way that makes Jedediah uncomfortable. ‘I dunno ’bout you fellas but ol’ Jed here sounds mighty jealous.’
‘I ain’t jealous!’ Jed snaps back, a bit too quickly. ‘I’m done talkin’ about this! I told Octy I would meet him as soon as that darned tablet started workin’ its magic and he’s probably out there waitin’, so if you’ll excuse me-’
He hustles past them before they can argue and begins the short journey down the hill towards the edge of the diorama, smiling despite himself as he hears the faint beep of a car horn in the distance.
Part of him feels lousy for being so hard on the boys, but unfortunately for them, Chuck is right. Jed is jealous, and he has good reason to be.
His friends wouldn’t know subtlety if it came and bit them on the ass, and he’s overheard enough of their conversations to know that several of them have developed a soft spot for Octavius, despite him being a taken man. And if it isn’t the unwittingly loud comments that give it away, it’s those gormless stares whenever Octavius drops by for a visit, three pairs of eyes unable to focus on anything but that goddamn skirt.
(Jedediah has explained several times that it’s actually a tunic, and the fancy belt only gives it the illusion of a skirt. But his friends are slow to catch on, and frankly, he’s sick of having to repeat himself over and over.)
He can’t blame them for being so infatuated - it would be awfully hypocritical of him if he did – but that doesn’t mean he’s going to surrender his own time with Octavius to suit the needs of his twitterpated comrades. There’s no chance in hell that they’re getting their paws on his Roman.
‘Jedediah!’ He hears as soon as he reaches the front of the diorama, and he sees Octavius’s head poke out from the driver’s window, brown eyes full of excitement. ‘Adventure beckons us to the Hall of Mammals! Your chariot awaits!’
Jed doesn’t realise he’s grinning like an idiot until it’s too late. He’s discovered that trying not to smile is a futile effort whenever Octavius is around; there’s something infectious about the Roman that makes him light up whenever they’re near each other, and he’s beginning to wonder if he’s becoming what Nicky often calls a “smitten kitten.”
Of course not, he quickly corrects himself. He’s not smitten. Or a kitten, for that matter.
‘On my way, Laredo!’ He shouts back and quickly shimmies down the rope to the museum floor, hopping into the driver’s seat once Octavius has shifted over. ‘Buckle up, partner! Ol’ Jedediah’s ’bout to take us through time!’
He loves moments like this. Just the two of them, close together, the rare sight of Octavius without his helmet as he leans back in the passenger’s seat, anticipating the upcoming rev of the engine. It makes his heart do a huge somersault.
‘I missed you.’ Octavius says gently, carefully taking his lover’s hand before he can move the gearstick. He’s so damn adorable, Jed can’t help himself; he leans over and presses their lips together, smiling at the surprised squeak Octavius makes before he wraps his arms around the cowboy and pulls him closer.
Perhaps he is becoming a bit of a smittening kitten - or whatever the phrase is.
Jedediah considers skipping the Hall of Mammals altogether and just spending the whole night making love in the back of the car instead. Judging by the way the Roman’s hands move down to fiddle with his belt, Octavius has the same idea.
‘Hey, Octagon!’ A voice suddenly yells from above and it’s an effort for Jedediah not to pull back and bonk his head against the steering wheel. He hears the faint thud of an elbow meeting ribs, followed by Chuck’s voice – ‘it’s Octavius!’ – before three familiar faces come shooting down the rope and bustle around the passenger-side door, preventing any escape.
‘Friends of yours?’ Octavius asks curiously, wriggling out from underneath his Texan beau, and before Jed can answer, ‘not for much longer,’ the general has rolled down the window and greeted the trio with a suave, ‘good evening, gentlemen! Is there something you need?’
Jeong goes red in the face and Chuck would be a lot subtler if he wasn’t batting his eyelashes at Octavius like a little girl. It’s Butch who makes the first move, taking off his hat and holding it to his chest, the way he does when he’s trying to butter up the women down in the saloon. Jedediah’s grip on the steering wheel gets a little tighter.
‘Pardon the intrusion, sir,’ Butch says, his husky voice even huskier than usual, so he sounds exceptionally charming, ‘but we couldn’t help overhearin’ that the two of you are plannin’ to visit the Hall of Mammals tonight. The boys and I have yet to see the exhibit,’ at this, Chuck and Jeong give an enthusiastic nod, ‘and we would be honoured if we could accompany you there, provided it doesn’t cause any inconvenience.’
Jed coughs loudly, covering his mouth with a gloved hand.
‘I don’t see why not.’ Octavius says, oblivious to his companion’s displeasure. ‘Hop in the back and we’ll be off.’
‘Not sure there’s enough room, partner. It’ll be a tight squeeze.’ Jedediah remarks in a last-ditch effort to get them to back off, glaring at Butch over Octavius’s shoulder with a look that screams “don’t you dare.”
‘We don’t mind a tight squeeze!’ Chuck’s response is instantaneous and within seconds, the backseat is packed with cowboys.
For the next two hours, Jedediah is deathly quiet – not that anyone else in the car would notice, because even if he tried to talk, he wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgeways. The only thing his friends seem to be interested in is Octavius and the questions are endless.
‘So, what do you Romans do for fun?’
‘Lots of things – we have chess and chariot-riding, but one of my favourites is a game called Rota.’
‘Why do all your men wear skirts?’
‘It’s actually a tunic. Our belts merely give it the illusion of a skirt.’
‘We’re organisin’ a little game of Horseshoes tomorrow, fancy comin’?’
‘I’d be delighted.’
‘Do you like cats?’
‘I love cats!’
By the time they arrive back at the Old West diorama, Jedediah is ready to murder someone. Octavius, heedless as ever, bids a warm farewell to his new associates as they head back home, before resting his head comfortably against the cowboy’s shoulder.
‘A fine group of men you have there.’ His voice drips with admiration and Jedediah feels his jaw click. ‘I feared that it would take a long time for them to warm up to me, but they are pleasantly open-minded.’
‘Yeah,’ Jedediah says through his teeth, knowing that the only thing on their minds was how they could sweet talk their way into Octavius’s “skirt”, ‘real open-minded.’
‘Octy? Octavius! Where the heck are you, partner?’
It isn’t like Octavius to not show up for their usual cruise around the museum. Jed knows they are both busy men and sometimes they must sacrifice leisurely activities in favour of work, but Octavius is always true to his word and if he had any other business to attend to, he would have let the cowboy know.
An hour passes, and Jedediah’s concerns finally get the better of him; he scoots up the rope to the Roman diorama and takes a moment to scan the miniature city until he spots a familiar face.
‘Felix!’ he sprints up to Octavius’s second-in-command, who has just dismissed the evening drill. ‘How’s it goin’, amigo? Haven’t seen Octy, have you?’
‘Octavius?’ The tribune frowns in thought. ‘I think I saw him leave with the giant, about an hour ago.’
‘Gigantor? Do you know where they went?’
‘I believe the giant wanted to show him something in the Victorian dollhouse exhibit. He didn’t say when he would be back.’
Hurt is the best way to describe how Jedediah feels right now. He knows Octavius isn’t obliged to take him everywhere, but he could have at least told him that he was planning to visit another exhibit today, instead of leaving him waiting around like a fool. His gut goes tight, like a belt wrapping round and round his stomach.
‘Thanks Felix.’ He says lamely, half wishing the ground would swallow him up; he goes to leave but the tribune puts a hand on his shoulder before he can move.
‘One more thing.’ Felix fiddles about under all that armour of his until he locates a tiny scroll and places it firmly in Jedediah’s hand. ‘For Jeong.’ He mumbles and if Jed didn’t know any better, he could swear the man is blushing. ‘It’s, um…it’s a recipe for Falerian wine. I believe he expressed great interest in it during his last visit.’
Recipe my ass, Jedediah scoffs inwardly, as he tucks the scroll away into one of his front pockets; he’s had more than one peek at the messages passed between the two men, and they are definitely not about Roman cuisine.
‘No worries, Laredo. I’ll get it to him. Jeong’s always been a sucker for soldiers – I mean, er, wine.’
He can’t squander in self-pity for long. As soon as he’s back in the Old West, Jed hears the familiar sound of Gigantor’s work shoes squeaking against the polished floor and moments later, Larry is depositing a familiar Roman onto the artificial sand.
Jedediah isn’t sure what to do. He really doesn’t have the energy for an argument, but part of him is still annoyed that Octavius stood him up and he can’t help but let it show on his face.
‘I don’t know how to thank you, Larry.’ He hears Octavius say to the giant, practically simpering. ‘You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble just for me.’
‘What are friends for?’ Larry replies and there’s something about the smile on his face that Jedediah really, really doesn’t like, ‘you take good care of her now. I don’t want to hear about any CAT-astrophes while I’m away.’
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no –
Oh yes, it would appear, as Octavius turns around and Jedediah can just make out a little ball of fluff curled up in his arms.
He could cut someone, he could literally cut someone. Of all the favours Gigantor could have done for the miniature Roman, he just had to go and get him a damned cat.
It’s not that Jedediah doesn’t like cats. On the contrary, he adores the frisky little critters; but Octavius has been asking for a kitten for almost a year now and it was the one thing that Jedediah had wanted to get him.
And now Larry has beaten him to it.
He tries to smile as Octavius brings the kitten over for him to see, like a gleeful mother showing off her firstborn; but it comes out strained and awkward and he can’t seem to enjoy himself, even when he’s tickling an adorably tiny kitten paw that bats at him curiously.
He keeps thinking about Octavius and the way he looks at Larry and his blood is starting to boil until he feels like a human kettle -
‘Sun’s up in an hour, guys.’ Larry declares, cutting into Jedediah’s thoughts. ‘And remember, you have joint custody of this little girl, so no fighting over her.’
Jed snorts curtly, almost certain that his skin is turning green, but Octavius carefully manoeuvres the kitten into the crook of one of his arms and crosses the other over his chest in traditional Roman fashion. ‘I will never forget this day, Larry. I am forever in your debt, my liege.’
‘Ugh.’ Jed blurts out without meaning to, but fortunately Octavius doesn’t appear to have heard; Larry returns the gesture like he always does and goes back to his usual routine of rounding up the other exhibits before lights out.
About damn time too, thinks Jedediah.
‘Jed?’ He doesn’t realise Octavius is speaking until he stops staring daggers at Larry’s back, and turns to see a pair of large, brown eyes peering at him with great concern. ‘Are you alright, my love? You’re being awfully quiet.’
‘I’m fine.’ Jed lies, trying to force that smile again, but Octavius knows him too well and sees right through his façade.
‘You don’t look fine.’ Octavius reaches over, brushing his knuckles against Jedediah’s cheek tenderly. ‘If something is wrong, you can tell-’ the Roman suddenly cuts off, eyes going wide. ‘Oh Jupiter…you don’t like her, do you?’
‘What?’ Jed practically squawks, because how could anyone not fall head over heels in love with such a tiny, helpless, adorable little kitten like the one sitting in Octavius’s arms right now? You’d have to be one stone-hearted son of a bitch not to —
‘I know I should have consulted you first,’ Octavius babbles on, looking like he’s about to cry, ‘but when Larry told me there were spare miniature cats left over from the Victorian dollhouse exhibit, I just assumed... I-I can keep her out of your way, if that is your wish, but please don’t ask me to return her. I already love her so much-’
‘Dang it, Octy, enough!’ Jed interrupts and he all but snatches the kitten out of the general’s arms, holding her close to his own chest. ‘I love her, she’s perfect, I don’t want you to get rid of her. I just wish that…’
I wish you had turned down Larry’s offer, ’cos I wanted to be the one to get you a cat, so I could show you how much I care about you. Because you’re all I think about and I want you to be happy and I would get you a million goddamn cats if that’s what you wanted.
‘…I just wish you had lemme know where you were goin’, partner! I would’ve loved to have tagged along with you. I was startin’ to feel like a balloon at a porcupine party sittin’ here on my lonesome.’
Octavius visibly relaxes, releasing a shuddery breath. ‘I apologise, love. I wanted it to be a surprise but regardless, I should have taken your feelings into account. I hope you can forgive me.’
‘Nothin’ to forgive, pal.’ Dear God, Jed has never felt like such an ass. Making Octavius feel guilty is like kicking a puppy and he quickly drops a kiss between the Roman’s eyes before his conscience can gnaw away at him. ‘C’mon, better find this baby somewhere to stay before the sun comes up. If I can get Butch to clean up after himself, there should be enough room in the tent for her to bunk with us–'
‘Actually,’ Octavius interjects, reaching over and swiping the kitten back, ‘seeing as I’m the one who chose her, I believe it only appropriate that she stay with me tonight.’
‘Hey, you heard Gigantor! It’s joint custody!’ Jed makes an unsuccessful grab for the little cat, but Octavius promptly holds her out of his reach. ‘Besides, she’s had plenty of time to get to know you! She and I have a lotta bondin’ to do!’
‘You can bond all you want tomorrow night. Besides, you’re going to be frozen for the next twelve hours! How much “bonding” can you do while you’re inanimate?’
Forty-five minutes later, Larry stops by the two dioramas to turn off the lights and discovers a little huddle of people gathered at the front of the Old West exhibit, watching what appears to be a very intense game of coin tossing between their two leaders.
According to Felix, who has been left holding the kitten, it was either this or arm wrestling.
‘Tails – I win again!’
‘Ah, c’mon, Octy! Best outta three!’
It isn’t often that Ahkmenrah visits the miniatures, what with all the other responsibilities he has around the museum to make sure everything runs smoothly (and make Larry’s life easier.) So, when he does venture down the hall to say hello, it’s a rare but pleasant surprise.
Jedediah likes the kid; he isn’t arrogant or self-centred like his nutjob of a brother — and they pretty much owe their existence to his tablet, so you would be a fool to get on the wrong side of him.
But today, Jed wishes Ahkmenrah was anywhere but the Hall of Miniatures.
Octavius always makes a fuss whenever the young pharaoh comes to see them, even if it’s only a flying visit. It’s a Roman thing, Jedediah concludes, they’re all so damn formal. As much as he likes Ahk, he’s not going to waste his time putting on airs and graces for an attractive young man in fancy dress – though Octavius claims that it’s “kind of a bigger deal than that.”
‘For goodness sake, Jedediah!’ The Roman chastises, as the cowboy stretches out lazily in the pile of hay they’ve been canoodling in for the past hour. ‘Would you stop chewing that straw and take it out of your mouth? We have a guest.’
Jed ignores him, gnashing his teeth even more obscenely until Octavius gives up and turns away from him with a roll of his eyes, hastily brushing the hay off his tunic.
Fortunately, Ahkmenrah doesn’t appear to notice their post coital fumbling. He’s too busy fawning over their new kitten, who is fearlessly exploring his giant hands.
Octavius is staring at them both. No, staring at Ahk, transfixed, dazzled like a magpie by the glittering jewellery and the golden robes and that finely toned chest –
Oh boy, Jedediah’s mind screams, and he can feel his blood getting dangerously hot again.
‘My people have always considered cats to be the most sacred of animals.’ Ahkmenrah’s voice interrupts his brooding, as the boy carefully sets his hand down so the kitten can hop back to earth. ‘You’re blessed to have one. What did you say her name was again?’
‘Kemosabe.’ Octavius replies and Jed can tell he’s resisting the urge to groan. ‘I personally would have chosen something slightly more distinguished but Jedediah won the arm wrestle.’
Jed smirks, pushing his hat down over his eyes and arching his back until he hears a faint click. ‘Chose the wrong day to mess with ol’ Jedediah!’
He’s itching for Ahkmenrah to take a hike, so he can go back to cuddling (and fondling) his man, but Octavius appears to have lost all interest in sex. He chats away to the pharaoh while Jed sulks in the hay, nibbling at his little piece of straw until he grows tired of it and spits it out. Some of the boys have arranged a game of Horseshoes against Octavius’s soldiers over near the railroad, and the sound of their merriment makes him feel even more isolated.
Jed lifts his hat away from his eyes to shout over to Octavius and immediately feels his nostrils flare. Ahkmenrah is kneeling – kneeling – on the museum floor, his elbows propped up at the edge of the diorama, and his dazzling smile wider than ever as he watches Octavius chatter away about chariot racing and something called “Saturnalia.”
The look on the pharaoh’s face is a look that Jedediah has seen once too often. It’s a look that every miniature is bound to experience at least once in their lives.
That “oh my God, this little person is so cute, I want to manhandle them into my pocket and take them home with me,” look.
It makes Jed’s skin crawl.
He jumps to his feet like a grasshopper and approaches Octavius in a few short strides, grabbing him by the waist and dipping him down for a deep and very desperate smooch that sends his helmet flying. Octavius gasps into his mouth, hands scrabbling at the cowboy’s shoulders to prevent himself from falling to the ground, but Jed only pulls him closer, catching his bottom lip between his teeth and gently suckling on it.
Ahkmenrah cocks a slender brow at this casual display of affection, but he doesn’t say anything, and Jedediah hopes he’s driven home the message that he needs to back the fuck off once and for all.
‘Jedediah.’ Octavius huffs as soon as their lips part, his cheeks rosy and his eyes glittering, looking excited and mortified all at the same time. ‘Please keep in mind that you are in the presence of royalty.’
‘Aw, c’mon baby. You and Ahk can have your little tittle-tattle some other time - I wanna snuggle.’
‘Jedediah!’
‘It’s alright, I should be going anyway.’ Says Ahk, seemingly oblivious to the little cowboy’s hostility. ‘Larry needs help in the Hall of Invertebrates, the Giant African Snails have gone missing again. But it was lovely talking to you, Octavius. I shall try and visit more often, I do enjoy our little chats.’
Jed’s nose twitches like an angry mouse.
‘It’s always an honour to see you, your majesty.’ Colour fills Octavius’s cheeks as he retrieves his fallen helmet and clutches it close to his heart. He bows to the pharaoh; Ahkmenrah bows back, and really, this is getting a little nauseating. ‘Please, forgive me for asking but…may I kiss your hand?’
Jed can feel his spirit leave his body and slowly float up to the ceiling above. Ahk puts his hand down, his wrist limp, until it’s close enough for Octavius to stand on his toes and press his lips against the tawny skin.
The sound of laughter from the railroad seems eerily far away.
Ahkmenrah finally leaves after spotting Larry at the end of the hall – and Jed quickly bites down on his lip as the pharaoh gushes about the “adorable little Roman,” to the night guard until they’re out of earshot.
‘Such a delightful boy.’ Says Octavius, returning his helmet to his head. ‘It’s a shame that the good always die so young.’
Jed doesn’t reply, just tugs the other man back towards the hay wordlessly and pulls him down on top of him. ‘Enough about Ahk already. We have another hour before sunrise – you up for round two?’
‘What on earth has gotten into you today?’ Octavius peers at him curiously, though he doesn’t protest when Jed’s hands slip craftily up his skirt and grope his rump. ‘You could barely hold hands with me in public without getting flustered before, and now you’re sticking your tongue in my mouth right in front of our friends. Are you feeling alright?’
Jed is far from alright. All he can think about his Ahkmenrah and the way Octavius looks at him, and how he could never compete with the handsome young man who always looks like he’s just fallen from the heavens, despite being dead for thousands of years.
The cowboy’s self-esteem is sinking so low, it’s probably at his feet by now.
He knows he would probably feel better if he just told Octavius how he feels. That sometimes he gets jealous, and he’s scared the Roman is going to leave him because he isn’t good enough.
But the last thing he needs is Octavius thinking that he doesn’t trust him.
‘Never better.’ Jed murmurs into Octavius’s ear, hoping he can steer the conversation in the opposite direction of his increasing insecurity. ‘I’m sorry about giving you all that sugar in front of Ahk. I just…I just want you all to myself tonight. I’m crazy about you, Octy. You know that, right?’
Octavius still looks rather confused, but he smiles, ‘of course I do,’ and pulls the cowboy down for another kiss.
Jed is about to lose his mind.
He’s never trusted Lancelot; he doesn’t understand how anyone can after the whole escapade with the tablet, which very nearly resulted in everybody dying. But ever since a handful of the British Museum exhibits were transferred to New York, and along with them, Ahkmenrah and his Egyptian tablet, everyone seems to have forgotten that seemingly insignificant detail about their medieval friend and now welcome him with open arms.
He knows he’s being petty. He spent three years being inanimate, separated from Octavius and he should be eternally grateful that McPhee is going to ensure that the tablet remains in New York from now on. But no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t shake off his growing resentment for Lancelot – “handsome” Lancelot, with his “hypnotic blue eyes,” as he so fondly remembers Octavius mentioning.
Jedediah trusts the knight as far as he can throw him – and he couldn’t throw him even if he wanted to.
‘Alright, what’s eatin’ you?’ says Chuck, whittling away at a piece of wood as they sit on one of the giant stone steps outside the miniature Colosseum. ‘You haven’t said boo to a mongoose for hours. Have you and Octy had a domestic?’
They’re currently being crushed in a game of Rota against their centurion friends, but so far, Jed’s hardly been paying attention. He’s already finished his third bottle of whiskey and is quickly starting on his fourth.
‘Nothin’s wrong.' He lies to his friend, unscrewing the cap off the drink and taking a long swig. He keeps glaring down to the front of the Roman diorama, where Lancelot is performing a short number on his lute and Octavius is blushing and giggling and hiding behind his helmet.
He doesn’t want to feel this way. Octavius can talk to whoever he wants, whenever he wants, Jed doesn’t own him. But knowing that he’s over there right now, gazing up at that wax buffoon with his big Bambi eyes, makes all the heat in Jedediah’s body surge towards his face until he sees red.
Lancelot is finished with the lute and now he’s reciting poetry, clutching a piece of parchment in one hand and making ridiculous, exaggerated gestures with the other.
Jedediah tries to focus on anything but the front of the diorama; he hurriedly takes his turn on the Rota board, not even noticing when he gets all his pieces in a row and inadvertently wins the game.
Lancelot has a flower now. Where in the Sam Hill did he manage to get a flower so small?
‘Jedediah!’
Oops. He hadn't realised he was leaning right over the board, and now all the pieces have scattered across the cobbles, earning a collective groan from his opponents.
‘A rose?’ He slurs aloud, almost forgetting there are people around him as he watches Octavius accept the tiny flower, undoubtedly nicked from the dollhouse exhibit, if it’s that size. ‘Since when does Octavius like roses?’
He turns to the solider sitting next to him, whom he's fairly certain he's never spoken to in his life. ‘Have you ever heard him mention roses before?’
‘Jed, you’re startin’ to worry me.’ Says Butch, as Jed finishes his bottle, throws it away and crawls over the board, sending it spinning down the courtyard. ‘I think you should head home and lie down for a bit. You’re drunk as a skunk.’
‘Oh, I’m just peachy, Butch!’ Jed crows, throwing an arm around another Roman whose name escapes him. ‘Absolutely nothin’ wrong with ol’ Jedediah. I’m as sober as a rover on a clov-’
Lancelot kisses the top of Octavius’s head.
It’s a small, feather-light kiss; understandable, seeing as even the softest contact could send the tiny man flying. But it’s a kiss nonetheless.
This means war.
Jedediah doesn’t realise he’s actually said this out loud until he finds himself being held back by at least six or seven men – and yet they still seem to be having a hard time holding onto him.
‘Jed-!’
‘Dagnabbit, get a hold of yourself-!’
‘I think we’re going to need reinforcements—’
‘Leggo.’ His voice is surprisingly calm, considering the epic rage that’s simmering in his bones, coupled with how drunk he is. ‘I can’t murder that partner-stealin’ son of a gun with you all on top of me.’
‘What on earth is going on over there?’ Asks Lancelot, and Octavius follows his gaze over to the Colosseum, where Jedediah is being manhandled by eight men now (and screaming something along the lines of “homewrecker, HOMEWRECKER!”) ‘Is Jedediah alright?’
‘Oh, he’ll be fine.’ But Octavius doesn’t seem too convinced by his own words, as Jed manages to wriggle free from his captors and charges in their direction with over a dozen cowboys and Romans at his heels. ‘Or maybe not…’
‘Hey, you!’ Jed bellows up to Lancelot, trying to look intimidating despite the height difference. 'That's my Roman general! Go get your own!'
A horrible silence falls over the diorama, as everyone inadvertently overhears this announcement and turns to stare at the unruly buckaroo who's sizing up a giant. Save for Felix and Jeong, who are too busy making out behind one of the miniature houses to be concerned by the chaos.
'Yeah, that's right, you heard me!' Jed burbles on, swaying on the spot. 'I'm tired o' you mammoth-size half-wits walkin' in here, thinkin' you're the bee’s knees - whatever that means, 'cos as far as I know, bees don't have no goddamn...well, you get the point.'
He pauses a moment to belch.
'What I'm tryin' to say is, this guy over here-' he points a shaking finger towards Octavius, who facepalms enthusiastically in response, '- not only is this guy my most dearest, darlingest friend in the whole wide world, but he's ten times more than that! I wasted too many cotton-pickin' years tryin' to tell him how I feel about him and now that I have him, I'm not gonna let some fancy, schmancy, lute-playin' rattlesnake poach him from me!' his blue eyes narrow as his vision becomes more distorted, 'and stand still when I'm talkin' to you!'
Lancelot peers down at the little man who's wobbling about like a jelly and brings a hand up to awkwardly scratch the back of his head. 'I had absolutely no desire to cause any upset. I merely stopped by to let Octavius hear the song I wrote for Ahkmenrah and give him a gift as a token of our friendship.'
'Enough of your phoney baloney excuses!' Once again, Jed finds himself being manhandled by Butch and the others as he attempts another clumsy charge at the knight. 'I say we go ’round the back of the museum and settle this like men and-!'
Wait a minute.
'What did you just say?' He asks in a much smaller voice than before, ceasing his struggling. Felix and Jeong finally clock on that something is happening and crane their heads over to have a look.
‘I wanted Octavius to hear the song I wrote for Ahkmenrah.' Lancelot repeats, still looking baffled. 'Seeing as we're both men of culture, and he is a dear friend of mine, I value his opinion, and I knew he would be completely honest with me.’
Oh.
Jed adjusts his hat clumsily, almost sending it right off his head. 'Hold it there, rutabaga. That doesn't explain the rose - or you smoochin' that tin hat of his.'
Lancelot’s stupid blue eyes flutter in confusion. ‘I often give roses to my friends – except for Larry, he prefers dahlias. Seeing as the roses in the museum gardens are far too big for the diorama, I had to do a bit of scouting upstairs in the dollhouse exhibit, so I could find one suitable for Octavius’s size. And as for the kiss, well…’ the knight coughs, almost looking embarrassed, ‘I confess, it was shamefully rude of me. I was so overwhelmed by Octavius’s enthusiasm, I completely forgot my manners.’
He gives a little bow to the general, one arm crossed over his stomach, the other stiff behind his back. ‘It was not my intention to cause any offence, and you have my sincere apologies.’
God dammit, this guy is so nice, Jed wants to strangle him.
‘You have nothing to apologise for, Lancelot.’ Octavius assures him, giving another one of those arm-across-chest salutes of his. ‘I wish you good luck with Ahkmenrah – I know he’ll love your music and poetry as much as I do.’
As soon as Lancelot has disappeared down the hall, the hands clinging to Jedediah abruptly cease to be and he ends up on the ground. He sits up with a soft hiccup, opening his mouth to chastise the others for throwing him about like a ragdoll - but then he sees the look on Octavius’s face and decides it would probably be best to keep quiet.
‘Would you mind telling me what that was all about?’ Octavius asks calmly down to the cowboy; though Jed can tell, even in his unruly state, that the Roman is only just holding back a rare flicker of rage.
For someone who usually runs his mouth like a river, Jedediah is now well and truly lost for words and it feels alien to him. Perhaps Butch is right and he should go to bed; there's little doubt in his mind that he's going to have a killer hangover next time he wakes up.
‘Um…' he adjusts his hat, glances over his shoulder at the other miniatures, who are still staring at him like a bunch of jackrabbits in headlights, and then turns back to Octavius, ‘you see, it’s like this–’
He opens his mouth a bit too wide and suddenly vomits onto the stone cobbles, narrowly missing Octavius’s sandals as he wretches up all that undigested booze. Butch takes this as their cue to leave and hoists his wayward partner over his shoulder before Jedediah can crumple to the ground.
‘Thanks for havin’ us, Octuplet. Same time tomorrow?’
His response is a tired nod.
Jedediah feels like hell.
The whole world seems to spin around him as he staggers the short distance from his tent to the top of the slope overlooking the railroad, and he brings a hand up to cover his eyes in an effort to ward off his headache.
He vows to never drink four straight bottles of whiskey in a row ever again. Not only did he single-handedly embarrass himself and likely Octavius with his disorderly behaviour the previous night, but it’s probably already taken its toll on his kidneys as well.
He needs to get his ass over to the Roman diorama as soon as possible. He isn’t psychic by any means, but he’s certain that Octavius isn’t very happy with him for trying to pick a fight with Lancelot. And as much as he would prefer to crawl into a hole and hide for the rest of his life, he knows he must face up to his mistake like a man and give the general the explanation he deserves.
As soon as he approaches Octavius’s chambers, Jedediah is greeted by a sword between his eyes. He hadn’t expected anything less. Octavius is the head honcho around here, and security is always tight with these Romans. But these two guards have known him long enough to know he isn’t a threat. Clearly, they haven’t forgotten about what took place last night and are looking out for Octavius not only as their leader, but as their friend.
‘C’mon, Cato.’ Jed pinches the bridge of his nose, trying not to sound as irritated as he feels. ‘I’m not here to start trouble, I just wanna talk to him.’
‘Well, he doesn’t want to talk to you.’ Cato replies curtly, sword still aimed at the cowboy’s forehead. ‘I think it would be best if you leave him alone before you do any more damage.’
‘Look, I’m beggin’ you guys. Just let me explain myself, he can’t avoid me forever.’
‘That’s for him to decide.’ Jibes the other guard next to Cato; his name is Antonius, Jedediah recalls, and he has a nasty feeling this is the same guy he slung an arm around the previous night. ‘Orders are orders. I suggest you leave before we resort to brute force.’
‘You can damn well try.’ Jed sneers between his teeth, but he’s not really in the mood for a brawl right now and in a rare moment of compliance, he backs off, that metaphorical belt returning to his gut and squeezing until he feels sick.
A voice from behind the doors stops him in his tracks, ‘wait!’ and seconds later they swing open. Octavius looks tired; hair askew, eyes framed by dark circles, but he doesn’t speak. He motions for his men to step aside and Jedediah follows him into his chambers, waiting for the doors to close again before he starts on his tangent.
‘Before you bite my head off.’ He reaches for his hat, bunching it in both hands self-consciously. ‘Just hear me out, okay? I know I have a lot of explainin’ to do.’
Octavius crosses his arms over his chest expectantly, his face like stone; Kemosabe, who had been reclining on the bed in the middle of the room, hops down and begins rubbing herself against his ankles, purring. ‘I’m listening.’
Right. Time to pay the piper.
‘Look, Octy…I was a real jackass yesterday, and I know I embarrassed you. I’m real sorry.’ Jed scrunches his hat even harder, which he knows he’ll regret later, but right now he can’t help it. ‘It’s just…seein’ you there with Lancelot, laughin’ and foolin’ around…I dunno, Octy, I guess I was just jealous. Pretty drunk too, but mostly jealous.’
Octavius’s brow furrows in confusion and he crouches down momentarily to pick up the kitten at his feet and cradle her in his arms. ‘Jealous? Why would you be jealous? Lancelot is a good friend of mine, but you’ll always be my best friend. I love you, Jedediah, and only you. Do you really think I would just replace you like that?’
Jedediah feels like he’s been shut inside a wood burning oven, his face is that red. He brings his hat up to cover his eyes. ‘N-no Octy, I know you'd never do that. You’re…you’re the love of my life. You’re the only one around here who really gets me, who I can talk to about anythin'. We’ve been through thick and thin together and lately I’ve come to realise that my life is fuller and richer ’cos you’re in it. None of this is your fault, it's all me. I get so wound up whenever I see someone sweet-talkin' you, I can't stand it. I didn't wanna say nothin' in case you thought I don't trust you -- because I do, I trust you more than anyone else in the world -- but I'm so darn scared that one of these days you'll get fed up and leave me for someone else.’
Colour swims into Octavius’s cheeks, but he doesn’t interrupt, though he seems slightly less irritated than before. Concerned even.
Jedediah goes on. ‘It’s not just Lancelot, Octy. Ahkmenrah, Gigantor…they’re always hangin’ around you, tryna butter you up and it drives me crazy! The boys hijack our car rides, Larry gets you a freakin’ cat and Ahk is always swishin’ in with his fancy jewellery...it’s hard for me to keep my trap shut when all them thirsty varmints are swarmin’ round you like a pack of gators!’
He feels something rise in his throat and realises, to his horror, that he's fighting back tears. He turns away from the Roman, sits himself on the bed and leans forward, clasping his hands together in front of him. 'I just don't understand sometimes, Octy. I don't understand how someone as amazing as you would saddle yourself with ol' Jedediah here.'
He wishes Octavius would say something. The ongoing silence is almost too much to bear, the only noise to be heard being the steady rhythm of Kemosabe’s purrs, and Jedediah wonders if Octavius’s lack of response is confirmation of his greatest fears.
Then the Roman laughs.
It doesn’t sound malicious. It’s a brief, unattractive snort that Octavius immediately attempts to stifle by clamping a hand over his mouth, but the noise comes out nonetheless. Before Jedediah can comment, Octavius’s lips are pressing firmly against his own, warm and familiar, and all the anxiety simmering in Jed’s bones slowly begins to dissolve until he feels safe again.
He remembers how nervous he used to be during the early days of their courtship, clumsy with his kissing, unsure of what to do with his hands. Now he moves with Octavius like it’s second nature, waiting for the Roman to deposit the kitten safely on the floor before allowing himself to be tugged over to the bed and lowered onto the mattress.
‘You,’ murmurs Octavius, his voice blissfully deep and gentle as he leans down and brushes a kiss against the cowboy’s jaw, ‘are the most incredible person I have ever met in my life.’ He travels down to Jedediah’s neck, carefully nipping and sucking the skin until he leaves a mark and Jedediah gasps. ‘Lancelot, Larry, Ahkmenrah — I am honoured to call them friends, but that is all they ever will be. You are the man I wish to be with, so don’t you dare even suggest that you are unworthy of me. You are the strongest, bravest person I know, and I love you with all my heart.’
They lie there a moment, tangled in each other’s arms, kissing as if they are both made of glass. The belt crushing Jedediah’s gut finally loosens and for the first time in weeks, he feels completely at ease.
‘I’m sorry.’ He apologises again, nuzzling his bristly cheek against Octavius’s chin, smirking as the general squirms. ‘I’ve been a real dumbass, haven’t I?’
‘Only slightly.’ Octavius replies, slowly unbuttoning the cowboy’s shirt until he’s reached bare skin. ‘But I forgive you. And I’m certain Lancelot will as well, when you apologise to him.’
‘Aww, but Octy-!’
‘No arguments, Jedediah.’ Octavius interrupts firmly but he leans down and tenderly flicks his tongue against a hardened nipple, smiling when Jed moans deeply in response.
‘Get a room, you darned whippersnappers!’ Chuck yells out the passenger window as they speed past the stairs, laughing as Ahkmenrah pokes his tongue out at him before resuming in swapping spit with Lancelot. ‘This place is infested with lovebirds, nowhere is safe!’
It’s once in a blue moon that Jedediah relinquishes control of the RC to anyone else but Octavius. But when the pair of them are summoned to assist Larry in reclaiming the red-kneed tarantulas that have mysteriously disappeared from the Hall of Invertebrates, he begrudgingly allows Butch to take the other boys for a spin –- providing they babysit Kemosabe in their absence.
‘You’re just bitter ’cos no one wants to smooch a miserable old rattlesnake like you.’ Butch fires back comically, quickly dodging out of the way as Chuck makes a swipe at him with his hat. ‘Aww, cheer up, you old dog. I hear Miss Delilah Dimwitty down in the Sleepy Horse is mighty sweet on you.’
‘You’re pullin’ my leg!’ Chuck snaps, though his chest puffs out proudly like a rooster at the thought.
Jeong, who has Kemosabe cradled carefully against his chest, sighs inwardly from the backseat as they zoom around the corner and skid to a halt just below the Old West diorama. He’s almost glad that this escapade is over; he’s been chasing after a hyperactive kitten for over three hours, and now all he wants to do is get his errands over and done with so he can spend some quality time with Felix in the bathhouse.
He smiles as he thinks about the Roman. But he knows there is a lot of work to be done before he has time to indulge in such luxuries. The horses must be fed for a start. And their shoes replaced. Now that he thinks of it, their saddles could use a good polish as well-
‘Hey Jeong,’ asks Chuck’s booming voice, almost right in his ear, ‘who in the Sam Hill is that over there?’
Jeong follows his pointed finger, squinting up at the front of the Roman diorama while Kemosabe swats at his neckerchief playfully. Felix is sitting there, dangling his legs over the edge, clearly anticipating his return; but the man sitting next to him, engaging him in conversation, is someone Jeong has never seen before.
‘I know him!’ Butch pipes up, clapping Jeong on the shoulder without noticing how the wrangler’s entire body has gone tense. ‘He’s one of them Mayans. Accordin' to Jedediah, Gigantor’s givin’ them more leeway so long as they promise to behave themselves and - Jeong? Hey, Jeong, you okay? You’ve gone red as a beet.’
‘Uh oh…’ Chuck waves a hand in front of his companion’s face, grimacing when the man doesn’t react. ‘Looks like another one’s been bitten by the ol’ green-eyed monster!’
This statement is met with a blank stare from Butch. Chuck sighs impatiently.
‘He’s jealous.’
‘Oh.’