Maskers: December 2011

I woke up to the Greek sun streaming through the wooden shutters and Mateo spooned up against me. My arm was thrown protectively over him and I gently stroked the hard pecs and muscled midsection of the love of my life. Mattie murmured in his sleep and snuggled up even closer.

My mind wandered as I continued to caress the man beside me. What a weekend. First, I get whisked away to Mykonos to meet his family, who tracked down Van Sant and had him trussed up like a side of meat for me to carve up, then Uncle Danny teleports me to God-knows-where in Saudi Arabia to help him out with some ultra-top-secret black ops...

Mattie woke up and turned around in my arms. His sleepy white smile traveled all the way to his brilliant green eyes.

“My, my, Charlie, you certainly were determined last night. I’m going to be feeling you for a week.” He kissed me softly on the lips and then trailed his fingers thru my hair. “It seems that tisis agrees with you.”

I guess my charade with ODIN was a success. I pulled Mateo to me and held him tightly. I could feel the steady beat of his heart.

“Jeez, Mattie – what did I ever do to deserve someone like you?” Our crotches ground together and he wrapped a powerful leg around me – tightening our embrace even further.

He laughed softly as he trailed his hand between my shoulders and down my back. I shivered. “I wonder the same thing. You’re a gift, Charlie … oh God, I love you so much…”

He pinched my ass. “C’mon – we should be getting up. I smell breakfast.”

* * *

We showered together and got dressed – cutoff shorts, tanks and flip flops – and headed downstairs. The two of us entered the airy kitchen to the smells of Greek coffee and freshly baked bread. My mouth was watering already.

Seated at the kitchen table were Damien – giving us a big smile and Hector – who was nursing an obviously massive hangover. Ori was at the large refrigerator pouring out a glass of juice from a pitcher.

“ ‘Morning fellas! Have fun last night?” Orestes was wearing a black speedo which highlighted his considerable package and Apollonian physique; his golden hair hung in loose curls around his face. From the feral grin, I got the distinct impression he was not only referring to the party and the sex with Mattie. As chief of security, I’m positive he was part of the cleanup crew at the shack.

Hector put his head in his hands. “Ori, please … not so loud! Ohhhhhhhhhh…”

Galinis put the glass of juice in front of his lover and kissed the top of his head. “Drink this down and then we’ll do a few laps in the pool, sweetheart.” He reached down and twisted a nip; Hector bolted upright in the chair and Ori gave him a hard kiss.

“Then we can do some more strenuous ... exercise.” The doctor gave his lover a wide grin as that last word was emphasized. Soon the two left.

I sat down next to Mattie and took some croissants from the basket and put a section of an omelet and some potatoes on my plate. Damien gave both of us a happy smile.

“You made quite an impression on everyone last night, Charlie … the entire family has fallen in love with you. Calista would be so happy that you two are together."

He turned to Mattie. “Your cousin Alexander wants him to do a photo shoot for his Spring line. He said … and I quote: ‘The only thing Charlie would look better in than my clothes is nothing at all!’ unquote.”

I blushed scarlet. Mateo laughed and hugged me. His soft beard tickled my face.

“I don’t think anyone has ever made that impression on Alexander Masiokos before, Charlie! You should do it! Just imagine your face plastered all over Uomo Vogue!”

It took a moment to sink in. “Mattie … you said Alexander Masiokos? THE Alexander Masiokos, the clothing designer? He’s your cousin?” Holy shit.

Mateo nodded and kissed the tip of my nose. He laughed and gave me a very evil grin. “The very same. And wait until you see his prive leather collection…”

Damien cleared his throat. “I also wanted to let both of you know that the … trash … has been removed.”

The simulacrum body. “Mr. Kriatos … I can’t believe you did that for me … I … I’m … speechless. How can I ever thank you?”

He waggled a finger at me. “I thought I told you to call me ‘Uncle’, Charlie … and I was happy to do it. I feel the same way about you as Mateo does – no one hurts you and survives to boast about it. And as far as thanking me, seeing how happy you make my nephew is more than enough thanks. However, I would ask one very small favor …”

“Anything sir!” He cocked an eyebrow.

I blushed. “Uncle.”

He gave us a sly grin. “Well, since you have asked Mateo to marry you, and he has accepted … will you let me plan the wedding?”

* * *

After breakfast, we spent some time on the sands below the villa. For some reason - maybe the sea air, the sun, I don't know what - we could barely keep our hands off each other and soon found ourselves making love on the beach. Mattie flipped me onto my back and slowly entered me. I wrapped my legs around him as he pumped into me and I moaned in ecstasy as he hit that pleasurable spot deep within me over and over again.

After several reversals, we were spent. Reality intruded and we had to make plans to fly home. I relaxed on our trip back to the States, with Mattie's head in my lap, running my fingers through his hair and stroking his face. Mateo had made his uncle promise a small, intimate affair; after all, I still needed to keep my proclivities on the down low. The door may be open and I may be peeking out from behind the clothes, but by necessity I still had to stay in the closet.

“Small and intimate” for Damien Kriatos meant he wasn’t inviting most of the Greek Parliament and a dozen or so heads of state. Even with those restrictions, Mattie’s uncle needed several months of preparation. We were looking at the ceremony in May or June of next year. Somehow, I didn’t think Captain Morgan would mind my taking off. I was planning on inviting him and Jamie anyway.

* * *

I slammed Tony McClaren flat against the brick wall as another bullet whizzed past us. It slammed into the mortar and several jagged shards stung our faces. The rookie (listen to me – I’m barely out of rookiehood, myself) was breathing hard – I could tell he was scared. Hell, I was fucking terrified.

I pushed him ahead of me. “MOVE, Tony!!!” We sprinted across the opening of the alley as a volley of semi-automatic fire followed us. We inched along the shadows towards the far end of the passage; towards a lone streetlamp and our cruiser. Those hundred feet looked like a 1000 yards.

“We’ll get out of this, don’t worry.” I whispered. I sounded more confident than I felt. I still don’t know how the situation went sideways so fast. One moment we were responding to a burglary call and the next we were being stalked by a group of thugs with assault weapons.

I felt a light tap on my shoulder; I turned around to look at my partner, but the world shifted.

* * *

Instead of the alleyway, I found myself in a nondescript room, partially in shadow. Instead of Tony McLaren I was staring into the face of Bobby Rodriguez. My guardian angel’s sensuous mouth curled into a tired smile.

“You know, Charlie, you’re going to be giving me a permanent twitch one of these days…”

“Bobby?” I was confused. “What are you doing here? I wanted to say goodbye to you in the hospital, but you vanished… Where’s Tony? I have to get back to him … he’s in trouble!”

He frowned. “I ... I had to leave, Charlie … I was …”

From the shadows of the room came another voice. “…fired. Officer McLaren will be fine. A bullet will crease his scalp. Bloody mess, but no real injury. The thugs hunting you will be taken care of by a rival gang and Tony will get patched up by one of the other gang’s members, who happens to be an excellent field medic named Felipe. Someone of your guardian’s dedication and abilities doesn’t stay unemployed for long, Charlie – he’s got the same clients, same responsibilities, better benefits, and a nicer and far more understanding boss… me.”

The voice was a clear, deep baritone, and its power wrapped around the core of my being. I felt like I was being stroked by the softest of fur on the inside of my body. My tool started to thicken and twitch.

A figure moved from the gloom and into the light. I gasped. The demon flashed me a grin. “He’s sort of working for the competition now.”

* * *

I took a step backwards and bumped into the hard, muscular body of my angel. I turned around and looked into his warm brown eyes and a powerful hand gently stroked my face. “Everything is fine, Charlie … don't worry - we’re still the good guys.”

I turned around and faced the other being. Tall and muscular, the demon had pale rust skin. Jewel-bright, golden-brown eyes gave me a wickedly playful and thorough once-over. He sported a well-trimmed black moustache and beard and his short black hair tumbled lazily over a pair of short horns. He was wearing an A&F t-shirt that was stretched tightly across his chest and folded arms; faded jeans hugged every inch of his powerful legs and substantial package. Despite the surprisingly diabolical appearance, I could sense absolutely no malevolence in him.

“The moment Bobby decided to take on physical form and come to you, the moment he held you in his arms, he put his love for you above all else – including God himself - he gained free will and he Fell. The rules are unfortunately very strict on that. I’m a firm believer that sometimes you have to do something wrong to do something right, but that’s a minority opinion in Heaven.”

He pulled out a pack of Marlboro Lights and offered me one. I demurred. He shook a cigarette out and held it in his lips; it light by itself.

“There’s quite a number of us about … almost perfect angels. I’m Carreau, by the way.” He took a drag and blew some smoke out towards the ceiling. The demon continued.

“Myself, I asked too many questions and I have a penchant for being a bit too intimate with mortals. Can I help it if I like sex with guys? I was thrown out too. Of course, I was sent Downstairs. They didn’t quite know what to do with me either, so they gave me a job no one really wanted and sent me up here.”

“W-what do you do?” After the initial shock had worn off, I was actually starting to like this guy. I had always imagined demons to be like the one in "The Exorcist" – Carreau was so … human.

“I’m Gay Lust Incarnate and Lord of the Incubi – sex demons." He pointed the cigarette at me and gave me a mock serious frown. "And don't get me started on sex as a sin. That's a crock of shit. Of course, over the eons, I also manage situations like these with angels like Bobby. Ordinarily, if you were heading towards the edge of a cliff, instead of a just a little voice in your head warning you about it, with my team you now get your ass hauled back and a smack upside the head. The Almighty won’t admit he made a mistake, but accommodations have been made and everyone’s relatively happy with the situation.”

He held out his arms. “Come here, Charlie.” I walked over to Carreau and the muscled russet arms held me in a strong hug. Damn, he felt good. He smelled of musk and spice - and he was a damn, handsome devil to boot. My crotch was throbbing painfully in his embrace.

“All of us were really proud of what you did in Mykonos.” I tensed. He continued to stroke my back and once more, I relaxed into his embrace.

Carreau laughed. “Relax, Charlie ... Speaking of which, Bobby and I wanted to congratulate you on the upcoming nuptials with Mateo. We think you’ll enjoy our wedding gift.” The fallen angel gave me a soft kiss on the forehead.

He held me by my shoulders and his golden eyes grew serious. “I also want to give you a heads up – do not get on the plane with your boyfriend until you have the pilot check the fuel lines going past the left afterburner. From front to back. Twice. Don’t take any excuses. Understand?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He smiled again. “Good. Okay, off you go.” He patted my ass. “The leader of the rival gang is named Tomas.” Carreau rattled off an address. “Make sure you go there and thank him once your partner is patched up.”

I walked toward Bobby and I received an equally gentle embrace. I turned back to Carreau.

“How do I get back to …”

“…Tony?” I was in the alley once more.

“Oh shit, Charlie …” he whispered. Three figures with machine guns blocked the mouth of the alleyway. We were trapped. The two of us heard the heavy “clump” of boots coming down towards us from the dark depths of passageway behind us.

My partner drew his Glock. A shot rang out as he crumpled to the ground. Tony was bleeding from a head wound and he was out cold. I knelt to cradle him in my arms. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck …

“Throw your weapon over here! His too!” A guttural voice commanded. Our guns skittered down the alley. I looked up to see a manic-looking swarthy man holding a Kalashnikov aimed at my head. Several Latin Kings were behind him. He gave me a vicious grin. “One little piggie down … one more to g-“

His head exploded like a ripe pumpkin. I threw myself over Tony as the three figures from the mouth of the alleyway opened fire. A fusillade of bullets flew over me and as quickly as it started, it stopped. I looked up to see the bodies of my would-be killers sprawled on the ground and the three figures rushing towards me. I was covered with blood and gore.

One of the three knelt down with us as the other two moved deeper into the alley, guns at the ready. He was handsome as hell and built like a male stripper – extremely well-muscled but with a sinewy grace – and his bald head gleamed in the dim light from the streetlamp. The man wore a black tank top that looked painted onto his torso and tight blue jeans. He had a messenger satchel slung over one broad shoulder and the Uzi dangling from the other.

“You okay, papi?” His concerned dark eyes raked over me and strong hands smoothed over the thickening goo, looking for wounds. I must have looked stunned since a crooked smile split his chiseled face. “Don’t worry, guapo. We don’t do cops… unless one of you wants to dance a horizontal merengue…”

“I’m okay, I think … my partner’s hurt.”

“Okay, lemme see …” Tony’s face was scarlet and his scalp with thick with blood. The bald man felt the pulse in his neck and pulled out a stethoscope from his satchel.

“Pulse and heartbeat are strong … “ He pulled out a penlight and shined them into my partner’s eyes. “Pupils responding good … no concussion, either.” He pulled out a package and tore it open. My nose wrinkled at the scent of the strong antiseptic. He gently cleaned Tony’s scalp and face. I could clearly see the path the bullet made as it grazed his head. A crease. Just as Carreau had said.

The Latino pulled out a clean gauze pad and pressed it to the still-oozing wound. “Hold this down tight, papi … He’s gonna need some stitches.”

We both heard sirens in the distance. “I gotta go.” The Uzi swayed on his hip as he stood up and he began to trot down the alley. Our Glocks slid down the concrete and landed near my foot.

I called after him. “Thank you for saving our butts … what’s your name?”

I heard the faint reply. “De nada, papi … my name’s Felipe.”

* * *

I learned my lesson from the Van Sant incident. As soon as I was relatively cleaned up, I headed upstairs to talk with Captain Morgan. He was busy with stacks of reports on his desk; as he was reading one of them he muttered something to himself and slammed it onto another pile. I knocked on the doorframe.

“Sir, do you have a moment?”

He looked up and gave me a small grin. “Make it short, Hawke. I’ve got to get this shit finished for tomorrow’s COMPSTAT review and it looks like I’ll be pulling an all-nighter.” He motioned me to take a seat.

I quietly closed the door and sat. “Cap, I need your advice on how to complete the incident report.”

He took off his glasses and looked at me. I’ve felt the power of that penetrating gaze before. This time, however, I was able to meet it without flinching. That's new.

“Cap, the shooters that blew the other guys away were protecting us. They returned our guns and one of the guys had some medical training. He made sure Tony wasn’t badly hurt and cleaned him up before the backup arrived.” I knew I was taking a risk with the next thing I was going to say, but I plowed ahead.

“They were Tomas’ guys.”

He froze. I never saw anyone go so still before.

“I think I should leave those details out, right? And just say it was too dark to identify any of the other shooters?”

He nodded, looking very thoughtful. “Did any of them say anything else?”

“Off the record, sir?”

“Off the record, Charlie.”

“The medic said they didn’t do cops unless they were interested in a horizontal merengue.”

Morgan began to laugh. In all my time at the precinct, I had never seen him let loose like this before. Full-blown gales of laughter poured out of him until tears appeared in his eyes. This went on for a bit until he finally got control of himself and stopped.

“Oh, shit … that had to be Felipe …” He was still chuckling.

“Yes, sir. It was.” It was great to know the ever-grim Captain Morgan could laugh. There was hope for him yet.

“Look … I’ve got to get back to this crap. But let’s go out to Sullivan's for a drink on Friday. I should fill you in on the Los Brazos gang.”

I recognized the tune he was humming as I left his office from Mattie. It was “Me Miras y Te Miro” by Grupo Mania.

* * *

“So what’s this big surprise?” I was with Mateo in his car. His brown hair blew in the breeze and he had razor-cut his beard to follow the hard edges of his jaw. A 100-watt smile traveled all the way to his emerald eyes and a hand snaked over to rub my crotch.

“We’re going for a cake tasting.”

“God, Mattie … you are such a romantic!”

“Well, I want everything to be the way you like it, Charlie … I think you’ll enjoy the tasting. Sonja Hong does amazing designs.” He gave me a quick, playfully wicked look. “And I know how much you like … cream.”

I laughed and kissed him.

* * *

A hard knot formed in my stomach when we turned into MacArthur airport. Once again, we were at the Kriatos hanger and Ori was outside the plane. He gave us a wide grin and a wave.

“Mattie, where is this cake designer?”

“San Francisco. We’ll be there and back in a few hours.”

He jumped out of the car. “C’mon!”

I got out of the car. “We are not getting on that plane until it’s checked out.”

He gave me a puzzled look. “Charlie, all my planes are on a regular maintenance schedule. What’s the matter? What’s wrong?” He grinned and gripped my belt buckle to pull me aboard.

I clamped my hand around his wrist and went into “bad-cop” mode. I could tell he was surprised at the vehemence in my voice and the steely look I was giving him.. My heart was thumping in my chest.

“We are not getting on that plane and we not going to San Fran-fucking-cisco until that plane is inspected. And if I have to punch your lights out and cuff you to a goddamned standpipe to stop you, I’ll do it.”

Galinis approached the two of us. I could tell he was confused by the chain of events unfurling in front of him. I turned to the pilot.

“Ori, how well do you know the afterburner system on this plane?”

He looked even more confused. “Like the back of my hand – I designed it. Charlie, what the hell is going on here?”

“I want you to check every inch of the fuel lines. Particularly on the left side. Back to front and front to back.” I grabbed Mateo and we headed into the small Kriatos office on site.

* * *

Mateo was furious. “Charlie, what the fuck has gotten into you?” He glared at me and then down to my hand still clamped painfully around his wrist. I let go and plopped down into an office chair. He sat on the edge of the desk, a scowl darkening his face.

“Well?”

I met his glare and matched it. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Goddamnit…” he ground out between clenched teeth.

* * *

While we were waiting, Mateo pulled out his cell and began making calls. Then he logged into the computer in the office and started to manage the shipping company’s day-to-day operations. I was watching the activity out on the tarmac – Ori had slipped into a pair of overalls; he and two other mechanics were crawling over the exposed engines and fuselage.

“No, I think the afternoon is shot. We’re stuck at the airport.” Mattie was on the phone with Chara. He switched to Greek.

“I had the whole day planned and all of a sudden he went batshit crazy on me. Charlie threatened to cuff me to a stanchion if Ori didn’t recheck the entire plane. I told you he got shot at again – maybe it’s some post-traumatic stress or something … I don't know ... Chara, you don’t think he’s getting cold feet, do you?”

I turned around and stared at him. I could hear him speaking Greek, but I could understand every word he was saying. I thought back to Carreau’s mention of a gift and I wondered if that had anything to do with my newfound abilities. Mattie was facing away from me and didn’t see the look of shock on my face.

Mateo continued. “Call Sonya and tell her we’ll have to reschedule and cancel the suite at the Fairmont for tonight. As long as we’re stuck out here, email me the Venezuelan contract and let me check it out. Okay, just got it. Thanks, gorgeous.”

My green-eyed lover started reviewing the contract.

“Mattie …?” I squeezed the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. In Greek. Say it in Greek...

I opened my mouth and the words poured out. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I …” I hated to lie, but I wasn’t quite ready to tell him about Bobby and Carreau. “I had a horrible dream about the plane. No, it was more than a dream, it was more like premonition. This is the type of bad feeling a cop gets that sets every alarm ringing and ignores at his peril.”

I looked at him and my eyes were damp with unshed tears. “I ... I didn’t want our life together to end before it’s even started. Cold feet about us? Never in a million years.”

His mouth dropped open. I don’t know what shocked him more – my speaking fluent Greek or the words I was actually saying.

I got up and pulled him into my arms.

* * *

I’m not sure how long we embraced, but our hands slid past our waistbands to feel each other’s warmth and our tongues greedily tasted each other. My eyes were closed and I could feel the silky stubble of Mattie’s face against mine. I breathed in the scent of him and pulled him even closer.

The door banged open and I opened my eyes to see a somber and begrimed Ori. He cleared his throat and Mattie broke our fondling to give his head of security a measured glance.

“Find anything?”

”You’d better give Charlie a stack of bills and let him play Powerball.” He wiped some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “There was a micro-fissure in the fuel line going past the port afterburner assembly. There was also a clog in several of the halon suppression nozzles. There’s a very good chance that we would have flamed out and lost control mid-flight. We may have even crashed.”

Mattie shivered in my arms. I ran my lips along his jaw and stroked my fingers through his soft hair.

“Boss, next time Charlie gets twitchy about something – don’t think twice - listen to him. I definitely will... Ori turned to me. Thanks for saving all of our lives, bud.”

“How long to repair the damage, Ori?” Mattie's voice was shaky.

“Couple of hours. I’ve grounded every plane equipped with afterburners until they’re inspected – I’m going back out to help Basil and Galen finish checking out the rest of the engines.”

* * *

We had to delay the trip out to San Francisco for another week. It seemed that a number of the other aircraft had developed the same problem. Ori was determined to double- and triple- check everything before he would take off again. Sonya was happy to accept the commission and we selected a multi-tier white and blue design. (For those of you interested, we decided on a yellow cake with cherry and almond filling.) The cake would be flown out on one of the planes going to Mykonos for the wedding.

The other thing that was so good about the trip was holding Mattie in my arms and making love to him on the thickest, softest down mattress I’ve ever felt in the suite at the Fairmont Hotel.

Damien had asked me for my guest list; it was pretty small – only six people and their "plus ones". Uncle Danny, Colonel Morgan, Travis, my partner Tony, Cap Morgan and Jamie Reardon. They would all be put up at the villa. I really couldn't wait to meet Uncle Danny's partner, Gabril - from what he's said, it was love at first sight between them, too.

Time seemed to speed by and before I knew it, it was the end of May. I took off three weeks vacation and was back in Greece with Mattie for the final preparations. Going down for breakfast, we were half naked and even after a long and sensuous shower, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Mattie pushed me against a wall and was showering me with deep kisses when Ori and Hector came in. Hector was limping. The two were taking food out of the refrigerator.

“Heck, what happened to you?”

He made a face and tilted his head towards Ori. “Him. The swine. I swear to God he’s grown longer and wider and he made sure I felt every inch.” Another of Carreau’s gifts?

Mattie was nuzzling my neck. I gave Ori a big grin. “Λοιπόν, να είστε σίγουροι ότι δεν τον διάολο τα πόδια σαν κύκλος πριν από την τελετή, Όρη” (“Well, make sure you don’t fuck him bowlegged before the ceremony, Ori”, ed.)

Hector’s glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor. “You’re … you’re speaking Greek!” Ori was staring at me, shock written across his handsome face.

“Well, you did tell me that was my only shortcoming …” I slid my hands past Mattie’s waistband and cupped the muscular globes of his ass. Our crotches ground against each other, separated only by some worn and faded denim. I kissed his eyes and he shivered under the gentle onslaught.

“... so I took steps to correct it. Ummm, don’t we have to go to the church this morning for the rehearsal?”

* * *

Damien had arranged to have us married in the Moni (Monastery) Palaiokastrou, which by happenstance, was located relatively close to his villa. The building was constructed in 1542 and has several beautiful murals inside the stuccoed building, in addition to an intricately carved chancel. Mattie’s uncle had left earlier to get the preparations completed. The four of us arrived at the church and as we entered the building we saw Damien speaking with an older priest, his flowing white beard a stark contrast to his black robes. If anything, I had expected a younger cleric who would be more accepting of this non-traditional marriage.

Mattie’s green eyes opened wide. “Father Dimitrios??” The man gave him a beatific smile and opened his arms. Mattie ran down the aisle and embraced him. Ori and Hector looked at each other in amazement.

I simply looked puzzled. “Who is that?”

Ori shook his head, still in shock. “That, Charlie, is Father Dimitrios Archontonis - otherwise known as Patriarch Bartholomew of Constantinople. He’s the Greek Orthodox equivalent of the Pope. Gay marriage isn’t legal in Greece yet, but a little thing like that wouldn’t stop Damien.”

We approached the altar, Mateo was grinning from ear to ear. “Charlie, this is Father Dimitrios – I’ve known him since I was a baby! He’s going to be marrying us!”

“Thank you sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He seemed surprised. “You speak Greek?”

“Yes, sir.”

The prelate grinned at me. “Good. Makes my life easier. My English is terrible. What do you do, young man?”

“I’m a police officer, Your All Holiness.” How the hell did I know that?

Bartholomew nodded at the honorific, pleased that I had gotten it right. “A policeman, eh? Well, this little pirate here needs a good firm hand to keep him in line!” Mateo blushed beet red beneath his tan. The patriarch pulled Mateo to him and gave him a peck on the cheek and laughed.

I gave him a quick smile. “I’m well aware of that, sir.” Damn, he looks just like Santa Claus.

He clapped his hands together and smiled. “Excellent! Let me explain the ceremony to you.”

* * *

The next day was clear and warm, with a gentle breeze sighing through the air. My heart was thumping in my chest as I stood outside of the doors of the monastery church.

The wedding service in the Greek Orthodox faith is an ancient and beautiful ceremony, which has been celebrated in its current form for centuries. The ceremony is full of symbolism and is a great experience if you have never attended one before, because it is likely to be quite different from other weddings you have attended in the States or in Europe.

The Orthodox service is also rather unique because the couple doesn't make vows to each other - our presence together in the church is taken to mean that Mattie and I were serious about getting hitched.

The ceremony consists of two main parts which both have religious significance: The Betrothal Service and the Marriage Ceremony.

The wedding began with the Betrothal Service at the door of the church and was completed before the altar table. Mattie and I stood at the vestibule of the church in front of the Patriarch who asked us if we came of our own free will.

I grasped Mattie’s hand and looked deep into those emerald eyes. At the same time, we said, “κάνουμε” (“We do.”).

Bartholomew led us into the church and we stood in front of the altar table; our rings – plain gold bands – lay on a small pillow. He blessed the rings and our best man (the “Koumparos”) – Damien - before placing them on our right ring fingers, Mattie’s uncle exchanged them three times between us, symbolizing that our lives are entwined forever. The Patriarch sealed the rings on our fingers by chanting a prayer and placing his vestment over our crossed hands.

The Marriage Ceremony began. This Ceremony consisted of several key parts. First, several prayers were said and then as they came to an end, the priest joined our right hands. Our hands remained joined until the end of the Wedding Ceremony, which symbolized our union.

Two big candles standing on the ground were lit - one by Hector and the other by Ori. Bartholomew intoned, “These candles represent Jesus Christ, the Light of the World, Who will light and bless this couple in their new life together.”

The ceremony continued with the crowning. The Patriarch held the wedding crowns, known as “stefana”, over us and made the sign of cross with them three times. The wedding crowns were linked together by a ribbon, representing the joining of two souls and that we were ready to create their own household, our own “kingdom”. Before the crowns were placed on our heads, we kissed; out of the corner of my eye, I saw Uncle Danny with tears running down his face – his partner Gabril pulled him close. Damien switched the stefana back and forth three times.

Once we were crowned, Bible readings were chanted about the responsibilities and duties of marriage. Mattie and I drank red wine from the same cup and ate honey with nuts from the same spoon, which signified that we were ready to share happiness and sorrow together - God knows we've had plenty of both already. The red wine symbolizes the blood of Jesus Christ.

Father Dimitrios led us around the altar table three times while he was holding the Bible in his hands. In Greece this is called “The Dance of Isaiah” and symbolizes that the couple (us) will follow the Word of God as we start a new life while the circular dance represents the eternity of a marriage, where there is neither a beginning nor an end. During the “Dance of Isaiah”, the guests threw rice and rose petals at us to wish us a happy and long-lasting marriage.

At the end of the ceremony, the Patriarch lifted the crowns from our heads and used the Bible to uncouple our joined hands, representing that only God is able to divide the couple.

My blue eyes grinned into Mattie's green ones as held each other and our lips brushed together like the wings of a butterfly; we were married. I closed my eyes and let the shouts and cheers roll over us. I rocked him in my arms; I never wanted this moment to end.

He kissed the tip of my nose. "C'mon, sweetheart..."

After the ceremony, an impromptu reception line was set up and we thanked the guests by distributing “bombonieres”, a party favor which contains an uneven number of koufeta (sugar-coated almonds), symbolizing that the couple could not be divided.

Finally, we were alone outside the church. I held Mattie's hand in mind and rubbed my fingers over the heavy gold band; its twin gleamed on my own finger in the bright sunshine. I smiled at my new husband ... damn, that felt so good to say!

"We did it, Mattie. We fucking did it." I brought his hand to my lips and kissed it.

Mattie's emerald eyes were bright and his grin was even brighter. "This was the hard part, Charlie. The reception is going to be a spectacle to remember!" He pulled me towards the small limousine that brought us to the monastery and opened the back door. Several thick, fluffy comforters were spread over the floor and backseat, as well as some large down pillows.

He pulled off his shoes and threw them in the front seat; then he peeled off his thin shirt and dove into the pile. Mattie twisted onto his back and spread out his arms, exposing his smooth, muscular torso and hard nips. He waggled his fingers at me with a wicked grin splitting that incredibly handsome face.

"They're not expecting us for a while ... let's start celebrating early!"

I gave Mattie an equally wicked grin as I undressed and pounced on him.

* * *

I think perhaps Charlie and Mateo have become my favorite couple - even more so that Richard and Amery - my 1940s gangster and navy man. Perhaps it's because I actually saw the man I pictured Charlie to be outside of that Starbucks - but regardless of the reason, I feel so amazingly close to them.

I hope you've seen this coming, readers ... after all, Charlie did propose to his lover and was accepted. How could I not go through with the wedding?

During this particular story arc, I introduced the concept of Charlie's guardian angel. I wanted to explore the reason why he vanished so suddenly. One thing led to another and I came across some very interesting concepts about angels (fallen and otherwise), men and djinn. According to Islamic belief, angels are composed of air and have no free will; they serve God unfailingly. Djinn, on the other hand are made of smokeless flame and like men (made of clay) have free will.

A thought occurred to me that perhaps some angels were made (as an experiment or perhaps as an accident) as a combination of air and fire - this could make them more powerful, but at the same time a bit more unpredictable.

This gave me some insight into Carreau's behavior and by extension, Bobby's. "Almost perfect" angels who possess the ability to sometimes act out of accordance with Divine mandates because their emotions can (and do) affect their intellect. The Lord of Incubi summed it up perfectly - "Sometimes you have to do something wrong to do something right."

Also, as 2011 draws to a close, I wanted to end the year on a gentler note. Again, I can't believe I've been doing this for FIVE years and I have every intention of keeping the stories coming!

So on behalf of all the fallen angels, ex-vampires, baseball players, pop stars, mercenaries, guns-for-hire, rookies, magicians-turned-con men, sentient computers, insatiable rubberstuds and the resurrected cops ...