"You're cold. Let me get you some tea." She tried to pull away but he held her hand a moment longer, staring at it, so smooth and golden against his pale, withered flesh. He'd made it to his 87th birthday and didn't have an opinion one way or the other on reaching his 88th.

"You spend too much time in here." It was a familiar argument and he didn't feel like having it again. When he remained silent, Marie continued anyway. "You never spent this much time in here before." She looked around the small, uncluttered room curiously, wondering what was so much more interesting here compared to the rest of the house.

"I hate that word."

"What, 'before'? It's a perfectly fine word." She scowled at him. "And it doesn't change the fact that you need to get out of this room once in a while."

"I visit my bedroom and the bath regularly, thank you. Now go get my brandy."

"It's two in the afternoon; you're not getting brandy. I'll bring you tea." She put her hands on her hips, a gesture she knew he hated, just to spite him.

"I've had sixty years of tea. I hate the damned stuff. Bring me something else. A... bring me one of those colas you like." Ray shifted in his seat, seeking a more comfortable position. It was going to rain later; the ache in his left leg was a sure sign of it. He'd broken it in what had turned out to be Noir's last most spectacular appearance and it had bothered him ever since. Florian used to rub it with Laila's ointment. Marie still used the ointment, but it didn't help like it used to.

"You're particularly miserable today. Didn't you sleep well?" Marie leaned down to look more closely at her charge. She'd started twenty-three years ago as a housekeeper of sorts and had somehow become a nursemaid. She'd tended Florian through his illness but he'd been a much more agreeable patient most of the time. Of course Ray had helped. But now...

"I slept fine, brushed my teeth prior, put on my jammies and everything. Now can I have a drink?"

"You just want time to mope. Fine. I'll make you a snack so you can have 20 minutes all to yourself, But you'd better perk up when I get back or it's brown rice and spinach for supper."

"I knew you were trying to get rid of me. Fine, but I'm taking this out of your bonus." He waved her off and she went, but not before asking, "What bonus?"

She kept her promise, returning promptly 20 minutes later with the tea cart she'd once found in an out of the way closet. She parked it in the hall and peeked into the room to see if Ray had fallen asleep. He'd gotten in the habit of napping with Florian in the afternoon.

"You still owe me." Ray was hunched over slightly, apparently talking to the cigar box he cradled gently in his arms. He had a thin, battered book in one hand and he was waving it slightly as if showing it to someone.

"I told you you couldn't leave until you'd repaid me, but you never were a good listener." He slipped the book back into his shirt pocket and placed his hand gently on top of the box. "I should put this on your bill too. One more ridiculous thing you've made me do." He settled back against the chair and smiled.

"How did you get this written into your will without me knowing about it? I should fire that lawyer just on principle." He traced the pattern of jewels on the box gently, almost reverently, his usual gruffness slipping as his eyes misted.

"Beautiful." He smirked. "Much better than your first plan, anyway. White diamonds are so common. But black diamonds... and of course amethyst and a few emerald..." his voice lowered as he lifted the box and brushed a kiss across the lid.

Marie backed away, moving back up the hall and bringing the cart noisily into the room so Ray wouldn't know she'd been listening. She knew Florian had been cremated, and she'd suspected his remains were in the lacquered box, but she'd peeked in there a few days ago and found it empty.

She was beginning to wonder if Florian's death had pushed Ray over the edge. It was bad enough for both of them when Laila died in an accident almost fifteen years ago.

"That was more than 20 minutes," Ray told her, setting the box down carefully in its designated place on the side table. It had a designated place in every room Ray still used and the staff knew to keep that place clean and clear at all times.

"I was making you something special." Marie lifted the cover off the plate to reveal a slice of angel food cake with strawberries. Ray had never been fond of it, but it was one of Florian's favorites.

"You're confusing me with the dead guy again," Ray said lightly, trying his best to hide the catch in his voice.

"Not at all. We're celebrating." She presented his plate, then took a seat and claimed her own. She handed Ray his wine glass full of cola and saluted him with hers. "To Florian on the first day of summer."

Ray made a face but returned the gesture anyway, taking a sip of cola before setting it aside. He took one bite of the cake and closed his eyes. He finished the rest without comment and handed her the empty plate with what might have been a smile.

"He would have liked that, thank you." He reached over and tapped the box lightly. "He's here, you know. Ridiculous thing. Wrote it into the will so I couldn't argue." Ray leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes for a moment. Marie waited, knowing this was simply his way of saying things he didn't want to talk about.

"There's a place. I don't know how he found out about it. They take remains, including human ashes, and put them in a machine. It uses pressure and heat. Turns them into diamonds of all things. They can even do colors."

Marie looked at the box, startled and somewhat appalled but Ray's laugh startled her.

"He promised, you see. And Florian always honored his promises. So I did what he wanted. But the colors were my idea. I picked black for... someone in our past. Purple for him, of course, and green for me. A few others for friends and old acquaintances."

Ray looked up at her and his eyes were clear, his smile genuine. "I have mine picked out too, of course. It's all in the will." He ran a hand over the loose pattern on the box touching a bare spot here and there. "The design will be finished and the box will be donated to a museum." He laughed out loud at that, a hearty, delighted sound she hadn't heard since Florian's death.

"So stop thinking I've gone batty and bring me some coffee. I can't imagine how you drink that brown swill."

"Don't insult my cola and I won't accidentally put sugar in your coffee."

Ray made a strangled sound and reached for his cane, shaking it at her as she retreated. She lingered just past the doorway for a moment, feeling better about her employer and long-time friend.

She peeked in once more as she heard him talking softly to the box - no, to Florian - again.

"Together forever. I kept my promise too." He grinned and added. "The museum's just to piss off Solomon."