Many Happy Departures -closed-

The 3rd of June. Two days before the ICWW Summit at the Cayman Islands, which could very well determine the fate of the world as they knew it. One day before the Canadian delegate was scheduled to arrive, a private jet waiting to take him at 7 the next morning.

And Lucien Lysander Lamarck's 34th birthday.

It wasn't a special number by any means. A simple reminder that he was getting older. That sooner or later, he'd no longer be the young upstart unseating the previous generation, but rather the successful but diminishing middle aged man waiting to be dethroned.

Well, hopefully he wasn't that old yet. He liked to believe he still had a ways to go; but then again, time slipped by rather quickly. It seemed like just yesterday he'd turned twenty-nine, and was in the midst of campaigning for his first run as mayor. Now he was about half a year into his second term, having been reelected at the end of last October.

Perhaps he was too young to be reminiscing, but 2018 had been a good year. His first major run for public office, successfully defeating a much older and more experienced opponent, despite starting as an underdog with little funding. The birth of his nephew, Tristan, as his younger sister was much quicker to settle down than he was. And, of course, his first encounter with Rebecca, his beautiful bride-to-be sitting across from him at this very moment, their empty dessert plates pushed to the side.

They'd had a small celebration with his family, but the others had left early to give the pair some time to rest before their flight in the morning. Rebecca was, of course, coming with him--he couldn't very well spend his birthday week in the Caymans without her.

"You're all packed?" he asked, as they passed the remainder of the evening enjoying each other's company over a glass of red wine. They'd been living together for almost a year now, and engaged for two months.  Everything about their interactions was comfortable.

"Mm," she nodded. "Just about. I'll get my toothbrush in the morning."

"Of course. You nervous?"

"What have I got be nervous about?"

"Touche. Just me then."

"You'll be fine. You've been preparing for months."

"I know, it's just...I dunno. I've never really done anything this...important before." He swirled his wine and took a sip. She reached a hand across the table placed it over his own with a reassuring smile.

"You've done everything you can at this point. Worrying about it isn't going to help."

He nodded and smiled back gratefully, sitting in comfortable silence for a few moments as he finished his wine. He stood and took their empty glasses to the sink as she cleared their plates from earlier. He loaded the dishwasher so that they wouldn't have to worry about it in the morning.

Rebecca disappeared into their bedroom, changing into her pajamas and getting comfortable under the covers with a book. A few minutes later, he joined her, pausing for a moment just to admire her while she read.

"What?" she teased without looking up.

"Nothing," he smiled as he climbed under the comforter beside her. He leaned on his elbow and played with a few strands of her honey brown hair. "Just counting my blessings."

She closed her book and turned to face him, opening her mouth slightly as if to say something. She was interrupted by his lips gently meeting hers for a brief moment before pulling away.

"I love you," he said quietly.

She chuckled and shook her head. "You are so sappy."

He gazed up at her with his wide green eyes, a practically perfected puppy-dog look. She swatted him lightly, then kissed his lips.

"Happy birthday, Lu. Now get some sleep, it's an early day tomorrow."

They boarded the plane at 6:55 the next morning. The jet and the accompanying security detail had been provided by the Ministry, and the Minister came to see them off. Lucien was close friends with him, having reached out to the man nearly five years ago to develop a partnership, which had soon turned into a genuine bond. The Minister clapped him on the shoulder when he approached, pulling him aside as Rebecca boarded the plane.

"Sorry I couldn't stop by yesterday. Happy belated birthday! Did you do anything?"

"Thank you. Just packing, mostly, though Marcella and her family and my parents dropped by for dinner and cake. Nothing special."

"Just as well. Can't have you getting hammered before the summit, eh?"

Lucien chuckled, "Yeah, I thought better of it."

"Hey," the Minister's voice turned serious. "Do us proud, eh?"

"I'll try my best."

"That's all I can ask for. And make sure to enjoy yourself--it's not every day you get an all-expenses-paid trip to the Caribbean."

Lucien grinned, and the two men embraced briefly before Lucien boarded the plane, taking his seat beside his fiance. Rebecca was chatting with some of her auror friends who were coming with them.

Rebecca was a smart, capable, muggleborn witch herself, and worked in the auror department of the Canadian Ministry. Originally, she'd planned to attend the summit officially as part of the security detail, but the Minister had insisted that she take the time off to simply relax in the Caymans with her intended. If need be, of course, she'd be ready to protect him at any time, but that wasn't her job this week. This week, she was one of the esteemed guests, and had guards of her own.

The plane took off, shortly after everyone had boarded, and the flight was passed comfortably, filled with light conversation among friends. At some point, Lucien retrieved his notes, going over them and rehearsing his speech in his head one last time--and then once more for good measure. He'd probably scan it again in the evening as well. Rebecca could sense a little of his stress, and kept a comforting hand on his arm, but allowed him to continue practicing, as she knew that being prepared would make him feel better.

After nearly four hours, the plane began to descend. Lucien put his notes away, and turned along with Rebecca to gaze out the window at the approaching island, admiring the glimmering Pacific stretching below them.

At last, they landed. When they disembarked, their luggage was taken care of by their security, and they were escorted to a lavish resort where they claimed their reservation. When they reached their room--a luxurious suite, complete with a king sized bed and a jacuzzi--Lucien flopped on the bed with a contented sigh. After a few moments of the two simply taking time to appreciate their lush apartment and get used to their surroundings, Lucien spoke up.

"Well, we have the rest of the day to ourselves. Whaddya say we explore the island? Maybe head to the beach?"

Rebecca picked up a guide from the coffee table in the next room and flipped through it, seeing what the island had to offer.

"We should go out for lunch," she suggested.

"Lunch sounds wonderful."


Twenty minutes later, they were seated at a table in a small, brightly coloured restaurant near the beach.

"You know, we haven't actually been on a date for at least a month," Rebecca commented as she looked over her menu.

Lucien thought back in surprise. "You're right. Sorry about that, I guess I've just been...busy."

"Oh, I'm not upset or anything. It just occurred to me."

"Well, let's enjoy this one. I owe it to you. No thinking about work, or politics, or boring speeches--I promise I won't even mention the summit. Today is just for us, okay?"

"Okay," she laughed, and he grinned at her from across the table, intent on simply enjoying the rest of the day with her in the Caribbean.