She drew looks, even here, which did not surprise her; she was enough to make most anyone who lusted for men reconsider. Indeed, on a different night, in a different time, she might have tried to convince on of them to do just that, just for the fun of it. But this was not the night for trifling diversions, no matter how attractive the men making out with each other were. For one thing, she had serious business to attend to. And for another – well, loath as she was to say it, she simply would not be able to compete with the boy at the center of the floor.

He was beautiful – olive skin, jet-black hair done just-so, a dangling arrow earring catching the light. He wore a stylish shirt that managed to be loose-fitting and yet show off his toned physique – a gymnast's build, strong and toned yet supple and lithe. Of course, if the shirt failed, his trousers were tight enough to make the same point, tailored to emphasize that there was a bulge in front of not inconsiderable size.

She smiled, watching him dance with a tall, dark man wearing a sleeveless white t-shirt and bulging muscles. It was unfair of her to drop in like this – he was working, after all – but she needed help, and there was nobody she trusted more.

She caught his eye, and smiled at the double-take, one of the few she'd absorbed that was not related to her beauty. He wouldn't be expecting her, of course, not here, not now. But he was a man of good heart, and he would not turn her away. And so he brushed the man's cheek with a kiss, handed him a folded slip of paper, and danced his way over to her, greeting her with kisses on both cheeks.

“Mother! What a lovely surprise!” he said, ebuliently, as he motioned to the bartender for drinks. “What brings you to South Beach?”

“Eros, dear, I wish it were better circumstances. It seems your step-father has taken up with The Adversary.”

The lovely young man gasped. “Hermes? You're kidding! I never imagined he could do something like that.”

Aphrodite laughed for the first time in days. “No, dearest – I should remember to be specific. You do have a number of stepfathers. Hephaestus – he's the one.”

Eros literally put a hand over his mouth. “No! You're kidding! Heph? I can't believe it.”

“Believe it,” said Aphrodite, filling her son in on the bet and its fallout. So serious was the news that by the end of the soliloquy, neither one of them was looking at the boys on the dance floor.

“So you're going to bring this up during your hearing before the Council, right?”

“It's not relevant,” Aphrodite said. “The Adversary is a God, like you, like Hephaestus, like me. He has rights, and Hephaestus is allowed to make side bets. Hergensheimer v. Yhwh is the controlling precedent, and the Council isn't going to ignore it.”

Eros stared blankly at his mother.

“It's precedent. The case was appealed up to Al'yah Herself, with the ruling –”

“I know the case. I'm stunned that you do. You've never been much for the Deeper Laws.”

“Maybe I'm just getting older. Even Hephaestus said I'm growing up.”

“Oh, I've known that ever since you gave your granddaughter dominion over lust for women – I mean, mom, do the Gods know that you're pretty much retired?”

“Retired? No, no, I keep tabs on you and Voluptas. You've done lovely work with lust for men, she's done lovely work on lust for women, and I like that you've been pushing the wider world to accept both from all sorts of different people – or the same people, as may be. It's perfect, and much more harmonious than it ever was when I was trying to oversee things while giving you just the sliver of authority over male love for other men – that let it get out of balance with the mortals, let them start declaring it something apart from love, which it never was...but you know this, dear, I'm just...I've made so many mistakes that I find myself, in my old age, regretting them. Like you and dear Psyche. How is she, by the way?”

Eros grinned. “She's been helping Voluptas on her rounds, when I've been busy on mine. But we make time for each other. We're both a bit...well, the mortals would call it bi-curious. And immortality's too long for monogamy. But...well, she's pretty as any of the boys on the floor. Pretty as you, I daresay.”

Aphrodite smiled at that, and said, warmly, “You know, that's the first time you've dared admit that in front of me.”

“Perhaps I believe you when you say you're more mature, mother. These last three, four centuries, you've been downright enlightened.”

“I'm just trying to be a better Goddess than I've been, son,” she said, smiling ruefully. “And failing.”

“You're not failing. You've done great things. These projects you've been working on – Psyche and I were talking about that one with the guy you made into a flea on his lover's body, made him see she was in love with another? That was brilliant! I mean, really, first-rate stuff. I'm kidding that you're retired. You're working around the edges – picking your battles. Not butting up against all the other Love Gods and Love Goddesses in the world. Even if Freyr is fun to butt up against....

“So,” said Eros, after a brief reverie, “what can I do to help you? Are you looking to make Hephaestus fall in love with an ass? Miss the trial?”

“I only wish that would make a difference. No, you know the rules. I am not allowed to interfere in what is going on. I can only go out and complain about such things to others, perhaps ask them to look in on things for me – but not to interfere. Were I to ask you to interfere, you would not be able to.”

“Even if you didn't, it would be tough. You and Hephaestus have a binder. I'm tied to you both. So it obviously won't work.”

“Obviously not.”

Eros smiled. “It would be reckless of me to go out and see if someone else would be interested in checking up on Adam, of course.”

“Why, of course it would,” said Aphrodite, smiling back. “And I would directly tell you not to do so. If I thought for a minute you'd do that.”

“Well, you needn't think that,” said Eros.

“I'm glad.”

“I wish there was something I could do, though.”

“Well...there is one thing I can ask of you. I have no binder with The Adversary. I cannot interfere or help Adam get back to his Stephanie, but that doesn't mean I can't try to find out what The Adversary and Hephaestus are planning. Unfortunately, I have a great deal to do between now and the hearing.”

“Say no more,” said Eros. “I'd be happy to look into it. Any idea on where to go for help? I'd ask Freyja, but she's on the Council.”

“Go to the God-Teachers' Guild. Merlin may be able to help you, or at least direct you to someone who can. We have but a few weeks of Earth-time, though; please hurry.”

“We go tonight, mother,” said the man. “I have just one quick errand, and then I go to the afterworld.” And spreading his great wings, he sailed through the ceiling, leaving the discotheque far behind.

Aphrodite smiled as her most beloved son departed, and finished her drink. She left the club quickly; she had no time for temptation tonight.

* * *

“And you ask us to believe that?”

Stephanie wanted to punch someone. She wanted to reach through the camera and strangle Jayne Jordan. But that wouldn't help Adam. And so she breathed deeply, and wiping her eyes, she continued.

“Jayne, had I wanted to get rid of Adam...time was going to do that for us. And it was moving too fast already. I didn't – I don't want to lose Adam a second before I have to. I would never, never, never hurt him.”

“And yet you agree that you were at best irresponsible?”

Stephanie dropped her head. “Look, if people want to hate me, hate me. If people want to think I'm stupid, or irresponsible, or somehow wanted this – I don't care. It's not about me. Take me to jail, kill me. But for God's sake...for God's sake, Adam doesn't deserve to be lost. He deserves to be home for his last days on earth. I will hate myself forever, hate myself forever, for failing to ensure that. But I will spend every moment of the rest of my life trying to find him, and I will not rest until he's home, and safe.”

Across half a continent, Jayne Jordan pursed her lips. Her usual schtick would have her going in for the kill here. Stephanie White may not be guilty; half the poor schmucks who came on her show were not guilty, but that didn't mean Jayne didn't bare her claws when the moment came to strike. It had built her solid ratings and a great following among Women 25-49.

But something in Stephanie's voice made her pause. The jaded host had to admit that she found herself...believing.

This wouldn't do. She tried in the moment to shake the feeling off, but it didn't abate immediately. And so instead of closing with “Well, that sounds lovely, but we'll see,” as her teleprompter suggested she did, Jayne said, simply, “We all hope he comes home safe, Mrs. White. We all do. We'll be right back,” she said.

* * *

“Pfft. Let her off the hook,” Sharon murmured.

“She totally did it,” David agreed, turning the television off. “Not that I blame her.”

Sharon sighed. “I know, God's will, right?”

“Look...the guy...it wasn't natural. I mean, whatever was doing that...it wasn't God, that's for sure. I'm not saying I'd kill the guy, but I sure wouldn't let him hang out in my bed, either.”

“Mmm. He'd get in the way, anyhow.”

The squeaking of bedsprings announced to the six-and-a-half inch tall artifact of the devil under the bed that his two giant captors were preparing to make a match for the nine-month-old who was sleeping in the adjoining room. Four days he'd been here, hiding in the home of giants who were, at best, indifferent to his surviving another day.

Adam punched his palm with his fist, and tried to ignore the moaning above. He was getting smaller, but that wasn't the end of the world. Indeed, he was counting on it. He'd been too big to sneak out when he'd come here, though he hadn't worried about such things. Indeed, when he awoke after being brought into the Andersons' home, he had planned to introduce himself as soon as the giant couple awoke. But something had convinced him to go to sleep under their bed, in a small space between two storage boxes. He was grateful that he'd done so, for the next morning the news had carried his disappearance early and often, causing his heart to knot as he heard the despondency in Stephanie's voice – and far worse, the self-hatred. He had been about to head straight out when he heard the wife mutter to her husband, “So, you think she killed him?”

“Huh? No, probably God righting what the devil had done.”

“I don't know,” the woman said. “I mean, you really agree with Rev. Dobbins?”

“The Antichrist is a great deceiver. And in the end times, he is supposed to do miracles to show his greatness. I do wonder if that freak was supposed to be some sort of herald. Anyhow, either his wife killed him or God took him, and I say good.”

“Hmm. Well, even if she didn't do it, his wife's probably glad. Can you imagine trying to fuck that thing?”

“Well, I never would. But yeah, I mean, he's not even twice as big as my cock, is he?”

“Hmm...we could measure....”

“Mmmm...but then I'd be late for work. And I can't be, Sharon. But tonight, after Kayla's in bed...we'll take a look.”

Adam had watched the conversation in horror, a conversation not made better by the fact that Sharon was quite attractive, nor that from his vantage point, peeking out from under the bed skirt, he could see that she wore no panties under her night gown.

He wasn't sure that they'd turn on him if he showed himself. Indeed, had he done so, Adam would have discovered that David's talk was mostly bluster, and that confronted with a real human being, he and Sharon would have helped as best they could. But Adam could not know that, and he did not take the chance.

And so for four days he waited. Sharon was a stay-at-home mom, and while Adam thought maybe he'd make a phone call to Stephanie, it turned out that the Andersons had converted to a cell-only existence. Worse, they kept their house hermetically sealed, even at night. Though he looked in the late hours for a screen or a hole he could scramble through, he had come up empty.

It was the morning after his wife's appearance on the Jayne Jordan show that he finally got his chance. He had left the underside of the bed when he heard snoring, frankly unable to deal with the sounds of a couple in love. And so he'd gone out to the kitchen and gathered a few crumbs from under the baby's chair, and then sequestered himself under a chair under the living room to sleep.

Not long after waking, about an hour after David departed for work, he heard a crunching and snapping and groaning sound. Peeking out, he saw that Sharon was assembling a stroller, easily folding the building-sized object quickly into position.

“Do you want to go see Maggie? Do you?” she said to the girl as she walked over to the play area by the television, where Kayla was busy stacking blocks. Adam couldn't help but be dazzled as Sharon dropped her full body to sit by her enormous, tiny daughter. Sharon was a beauty, and though not done up by any means, her simple t-shirt and jeans showed off a figure that had snapped back nicely from childbirth. The picture of a pretty mom and her pretty child stabbed Adam in the gut; it was a picture he would never see with his wife.

But he stifled the longing for long enough to rush out the other side of the couch. Sharon was distracted. That gave him enough time to rush for the stroller, where – happily – the diaper bag was already ensconced in the lower carrying area. Adam jumped for the mesh walls that surrounded it, and pulled himself up as quickly as he could, dropping over the side just as a series of thuds announced that Sharon was approaching.

There were a series of clicks above, and the groaning of the tremendous weight of the baby, and then they were off, out into the wild green yonder. Adam hid beneath the diaper bag, looking for a good place to escape.

Soon enough, they came to a park, pulling up to a parking-lot expanse of blanket, where another pretty mom sat with a slightly older baby. Sharon joined the mom, and while Kayla and Maggie looked at the grass, rattles, and each other, the moms talked about life.

This was his opportunity. Adam quickly pulled himself back over the side, and keeping low, under the tall grass, slithered on his belly until he was safely behind the women.

It was a large suburban park in mid-day; he could see houses in the distance, a few enormous kids playing on a playground. He had to get help, but he didn't know which way to go. After a few minutes spent despairing, he finally stood up and headed for what looked to be a picnic shelter in the distance.

Had he headed for the playground, he would have run into a mom who was watching her daughter during the day, before going in to the precinct that night. Had he headed to the houses, he would have come to the home of a pilot, who would have been more than happy to use his flight benefits to get Adam back home. Heck, had he turned and run to Sharon and her friend, Stephanie would have been called in minutes.

But he headed for the shelter.

Perhaps it was the way it had to be.