Memory Exercises

A/N: Set shortly after A Civil Campaign. Unbeta'ed. Innuendo only if you want it. Enjoy!

Chapter One

Morning light streamed through the windows at Vorpatril House in Vorbarr Sultana, illuminating the stately rooms. In the master bedroom, it showed a bed, in which there lay two lumps. Slowly, one of the stirred and sat up. Lady Alys Vorpatril stretched, yawned, and poked her bedmate in the side.

"It's morning, dear," she announced. "Time to get to work"

"The other lump rolled over, revealing a bland, neutral face and brown-grey hair. "I don't have work," Captain Simon Illyan, former chief of ImpSec, remarked. "Retired. Remember?" His drowsy smile drooped at this unintentional reference to his memory problems.

"You're helping me with the birthday preparations," she informed him gently. "Seating arrangements in the morning, decorations in the afternoon. Come on, up and at 'em!" Alys moved to poke him again, but he caught her finger and kissed it instead, prompting a smile.

"Can't we stay in bed a little bit longer?" he wheedled. "I'm sure your commando squad will have everything well in hand."

"Only if we spend the time doing something useful," she responded. Simon's eyes lit up, and he opened his mouth to speak. She cut in with, "Such as memory exercises."

He groaned, then sighed dejectedly. "I'll do what I must to stay in bed, I suppose."

Lady Alys settled back down and smiled at him. "So what are we doing today?"

"Prep for Gregor's Birthday Celebration," he recited. "Seating arrangements in the morning, decorations in the afternoon." He grinned with a touch of malice. "That's one thing I'm definitely glad I'm not in charge of anymore. Poor Guy."

"Both true," she said approvingly. "Now more distant. Um, when was the first time you . . . met Cordelia?"

Simon grimaced. "God, that was traumatizing. She was . . . never mind. Something more pleasant maybe? Like the first time I met you?" He smiled hopefully.

"All right," replied Alys. "So when was that?"

"Um . . . " His eyes clouded over, and he frowned in concentration, then dismay. "I don't remember."

Alys touched his shoulder sympathetically. "Well what is the first thing you can remember about our acquaintance?"

"I'm not sure. I know we worked together on and off for about a decade while I was Chief of ImpSec and you were Gregor's hostess, but I can't recall anything specific." His face brightened a little. "I do remember that day, shortly after Miles go me arrested, then acquitted, for that mercenary fleet of his, when you barged into my office and demanded a job."

She rolled over and snuggled into him. "I neither barged nor demanded," she corrected primly. "I knocked politely, entered, and gracefully offered my services as rumor-gatherer, with all the proper etiquette befitting a lady of the high Vor." Alys smiled, and snuggled a little closer to him. "Besides, I'm sure you knew I was coming a week in advance."

"I expect I did," he replied wryly. "And you most certainly were not proper. I'm fairly certain the exact words were, 'I'm bored. Hire me already, so I can help you collect gossip for real'."

Lady Alys rolled out of Simon's embrace so she could watch his face as she responded, "Something like that, yes, and you just gave me that little ironic smirk you do so well—look, you're doing it now!—and said, oh-so-politely, 'Why Lady Vorpatril! I could have sworn you were collecting gossip for ImpSec's analysts already, to the fullest of your ability'."

Simon rapidly schooled his face back into its customarily placid form. "Which got me a lecture about how much more you could do, if I just gave you some contact info, and simply ordered people to report to you. As if half the capitol didn't already."

Alys leaned in and kissed his nose. "Always the flatterer, Simon," she murmured. Then, more lightly, she added, "And now, thanks to you, I have two thirds of it as informants"

He smiled once more, without a hint of irony. "My pleasure." This time he kissed her, and on the lips.

After a pleasant moment, Alys drew back and said, "Speaking of informants, do you recall Byerly Vorrutyer?"

"Yeeess," Simon replied, drawing out the word as he searched his lagging memory. "Yes, I do. Town clown, IS-8, right?"

"Right, demoted from 9 after that incident with Lord Dono. You're doing better." she simpered affectionately.

"So, what about him?" Simon asked curiously. "Is anything wrong? Or do you just have good gossip that you forgot to mention at my nightly briefing yesterday?"

"I suppose you might say something's wrong," she replied mysteriously, pausing dramatically. He looked at her with exaggerated puppy-dog eyes, and she relented with a laugh, saying, "By's cover was blown; he was found out by a couple of High Vor, both involved in politics."

"What?" Simon gasped, startling out of semi-drowsy bemusement. Possibilities raced across his ImpSec-trained brain—blackmail, information leaks, false reports . . .

"Don't worry," Alys reassured him. "You'll appreciate this." She could see the various possible results flashing across his mind, each one no doubt more horrifying than the next. She really shouldn't tease him like that. "One of them was Miles, and apparently he gave By a rather ruthless critique—from a covert-ops perspective, you see."

"Yes, Miles would," Simon conceded, calming down a bit. "And the other?" He was still quite tense.

"I have the situation well in hand, really," she said with a slight smirk. "The other one's in Ops, and about as much under my thumb as it's possible for a young Vor lord to be. I believe you are familiar with Lord Ivan Vorpatril?"

Simon gasped again, though this time in amazement. "That idiot Ivan?" He checked himself, remembering to whom he spoke. But Lady Alys Vorpatril showed no surprise at this description of her son. "Well, I guess people do change," he added as an afterthought.

"Well, he certainly should have picked something up from MIles, after being his stooge for so long," Alys replied tartly. Then, in a more motherly voice, she continued, "Actually, he's been hiding for a week or so now. Seems terrified that this will lead to more work. Poor lamb." She sighed theatrically.

Simon grinned. "With all this change, perhaps he'll end his career as a consummate bachelor and find a steady girl," he suggested.

She sighed again, then sat up. "if only. But I really must get to work now."

He pushed off the blankets and stood up, announcing, "Seating arrangements it is!" Alys smiled up at him, and he leaned down for a kiss. It was broken off when she stood and headed towards the bathroom, asserting,"I get the first shower" over her shoulder. He smiled and began rummaging for clothes.

"We could always sit Ivan next to that insufferable Vor bore Vorparadijs!" Simon called towards the bathroom, where water was beginning to run. "Show him what an old, unmarried Vor is really like; scare him into marriage."

The only response was a shouted, "Ha! Serve him right!", but that was fine—they would laugh more later. He looked at the clock, and saw that it was nearly ten. Life certainly was different when one was retired.