Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke was in her office, diligently applying herself to the mildly Sisyphean goal of getting far enough ahead on the routine work of running the First Joint Special Air Fleet that she wouldn't be completely consumed by guilt when she took a few days' leave at the end of the week. After all, it wouldn't do to spend the whole time fretting about things she was leaving unfinished while she was away on...

... her honeymoon.

She paused, as she always did when that thought flickered back across her mind. Though her love affair with Mio Sakamoto had been an acknowledged thing for months, and their wedding date set for weeks, there was still a faint feeling of unreality about the idea when Minna caught herself reflecting on it in odd moments.

"I know, right?" said Mio's voice, and Minna looked up to see her leaning in the open doorway, arms folded, giving her a slightly roguish smile.

Now she levered herself away from the doorjamb and entered the office fully, adding, "Sometimes I feel like I need to call Fleet Headquarters to confirm it's really happening."

"How did you know?" Minna wondered.

"Elementary, my dear general," Mio declared, perching herself on the corner of Minna's desk. "You were writing in the upper right, where the date goes," she said, tapping the document Minna was working on, "and then you stopped and glanced at the picture of me on your desk," she continued, nodding toward the framed photo propped by the inkstand. The Fusōnese witch grinned. "What could be more natural than to conclude that you paused to think about what we're going to be doing this Friday?"

"Why, Holmes, it seems the very essence of simplicity once you've explained yourself," said Minna in an exaggeratedly blustery Britannian accent.

"I know, Watson. That's why I rarely explain myself," Mio replied. Then, back in her normal voice, she went on, "Anyway, I just came down from the control tower. Letzi and her crew are about 10 minutes out. Hannelore is warming up the briefing room."

"Ah, excellent," said Minna. She finished the document, blotted it, then returned her quill to its stand and rose to go.

--G.
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