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Long distance relationships were difficult tasks to pull off, even for master magicians, but Dylan and Alma persevered. Long distance phone calls at night became the norm, where even a shared silence was comforting, until one of them fell asleep. Skype meetings were also frequent, though more difficult with the time zone difference; a phone call could be made from a cell just about anywhere, but a computer conference took more coordination. E-mails and texts were also commonplace, and care packages found their way to each other from time to time.
Dylan had taken to adding a routine to their relationship where he taught Alma a magic trick for her to practice while they were apart and then, on their next meeting, she would demonstrate the same trick for him. It began innocently enough when Alma told him about a trick a co-worker had explained to her, which she eagerly presented to Dylan.
“Pick any number, any number,” she’d requested one during one late night call. “and don’t tell me what it is.”
“Ok.” Dylan grinned, anticipating where this was going but not daring to spoil her enthusiasm. “I have one picked out.”
“Now take that number and subtract one from it.”
“Done.”
“Then multiply the total by three and add twelve to that.”
“Ok, I’m with you.” Dylan replied.
“Now, take that number and divide it by the number three.” Alma explained.
“Alright, got it.” said Dylan, quickly doing the math in his head.
“Add five to that number, then subtract the initial number from that, ok?”
“Mmmhmm.” Dylan grinned through the phone, obeying his girlfriend’s instructions.
“Alright, now, using my psychic powers to read your mind I can see that… just a second, it’s a little hazy but it’s coming into focus… I see… the number eight. Is it eight, is that the final result?” she queried.
“It is indeed, mademoiselle.”
“Voila!” she loudly exclaimed before collecting herself and continuing. “I know, I know, it is only math and not magic, but I thought it was fun.” Alma explained before her significant other could say anything further.
“Hey, it’s alright, you did it well. Extra kudos for the showmanship at the end there, heh. Selling the trick is a large part of a magician’s job, after all.” Dylan smiled into the phone while he spoke. “It was good.”
“Merci bien.” she replied. “So, how was your day?”
They continued to talk until Alma couldn’t help but fall asleep, when they said their good nights and promised to talk again tomorrow.
* * * * *
Once the lion’s share of the paperwork was done with respect to the Four Horsemen case and the arrest of Thaddeus Bradley, Dylan was able to take an extended leave of absence from his position with the FBI.
He spent the first few days of his leave tying up loose ends and preparing for his trip to France, and by the end of his first week off he was boarding a direct flight to France to be together once again.
After Dylan’s flight landed at the Charles de Gaulle Airport he found Alma’s familiar face waiting for him as he entered the arrivals area. She ran up to him once he was outside of the secure area, and he opened his arms to embrace her, clutching her tightly as she crushed herself against him.
“Welcome home.” Alma said, pulling back long enough to give him a quick kiss. “How was your flight? You must be exhausted.”
“Thank you. It was ok, I slept for a lot of it.” Dylan said, adjusting his carry on strap over one of his shoulders. “Honestly I’m starving, I’d love to grab a bite to eat then just go home and relax.”
“Of course, let’s go get your bags and then we can- hold on a second, what’s that?” Alma scrunched up her nose and frowned, looking at Dylan as she tilted her head to one side. “It looks like you’ve got a little something stuck just… here…”
“I do?” He leaned down towards her, making it easier for her to reach up to the side of his head, and watched as she pulled her hand back from behind his ear. Alma opened her palm to reveal a one Euro French coin in it, gleaming under the airport’s fluorescent lights.
“Voila!”” she said with a wide grin, moving her hand closer for Dylan to inspect. “I do not know how you got any rest with such a coin stuck behind your ear, mon cheri.” Alma’s smirk grew wider as she moved the Euro between her thumb and forefinger to flip it in the air.
Grabbing the coin in mid toss, Dylan laughed and quickly palmed it, slipping it into his pocket as he did so to make it disappear. “Not bad, Alma, not bad.” They’d discussed the mechanics behind palming objects and how to execute the basic sleight of hand required but that was the first time he’d seen her in action.
“I’ve been practicing, you’ll see.” She beamed at her boyfriend, stepping along side of him and sliding her arm between the crook of his while leaning her head against his shoulder. “I could not wait to show you.”
“I’m glad you did.” He leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of their head. “Now, speaking of making things appear and disappear, what are the odds that my suitcase has made it to the carousel, hmm?”
* * * * *
The next few years saw several visits back and forth by the both of them, increasing in both their frequency and length. Without her knowledge, Dylan decided one day to send a resume to Interpol, just to see what their level of interest might be, if any. To his surprise he was granted an interview almost immediately, so he planned another trip to his girlfriend’s country.
Dylan never told Alma of his trip, hoping to surprise her and make a quick turn around, so he was completely floored when he was offered a position in their Paris office on the spot following his interview. They understood that he would need some time to think about it, not to mention to advise his current employers if he planned to transition there, so he was given a reasonable amount of time to get back to them.
After leaving the Interpol office, Dylan took a walk by the Seine and thought about what he wanted to do. It was a balmy spring day so he took his time, spending the better part of three hours meandering about before he made his way back to his girlfriend’s office.
He arrived about fifteen minutes before she was due to finish for the day to find her door open, with Alma sitting behind her desk with her head down, buried in some paperwork. Leaning against her door frame with his jacket folded over in one arm, Dylan reached up and lightly rapped on the door. Alma’s initial look of annoyance at being disturbed quickly morphed to surprise and then happiness as she leapt to her feet to hug him.
“Dylan! What are you doing here?” After a long hug she pulled back long enough to look up in his eyes, her eyebrows raised.
“It’s kind of a long story, you could say,” he said with a grin. “but if you’d like, I’ll tell you over dinner?”
“Of course, of course.” She gestured back at her desk and the various scattered papers on top of it. “I just need to tidy things up and then we can go. I did not expect this, what a pleasant surprise!” Alma leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Take your time, Alma.” Dylan slipped his hands in his pockets, letting his coat hang loose on his arm. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to show me your latest trick, though.”
“What trick is that again?” she said as she headed for her desk. Alma stopped just before she got there, turning around as she snapped her fingers. “Oh, yes, right. I remember now.” Moving one of her hands behind her back and then in front of her again, she produced a little black box into view. “Pickpocketing, yes? To be used for good purposes only and not for evil, I know, but I have been practicing, see? You cannot pull a fast one on me, sir.”
She’d plucked the tiny box from his coat pocket when they’d embraced, which he almost - almost - hadn’t felt or realized, but Dylan was impressed with how well she’d lifted the item off of his person.
“You have been, yes. Very well done, as always, but I wouldn’t quite say that.” he replied.
Alma frowned at his words, moving her gaze from her boyfriend to the box in her hand. Dylan nodded at the box, which she moved to carefully open. As she lifted the lid, Dylan bent to one knee in front of her, reaching out his hand to take her empty one in his.
He didn’t have to actually say the words, as she nodded immediately while tearing up at the same time.
* * * * *
Since Dylan’s caseload had been lighter than usual since he started dating Alma, what with all of the regular international travel between them, it was no great affair to transfer all of his outstanding FBI matters to other investigators and offices. He wrote memos on them all and spoke to his fellow officers where necessary, and within two weeks he started his job with Interpol.
Alma’s apartment was big enough for the two of them for the time being, and having to commute back and forth to the same office was a large help as well. It wasn’t long before they were looking for a new place to call their own, however, and before long they had purchased a lovely two bedroom bungalow in a nice part of the city.
They both took a week off for the move, and also took advantage of that time to plan for their wedding. A date was set and Dylan wisely stepped aside to let Alma handle all of the small details for the same, which was more than fine by him. He concentrated more on the moving part of the week while letting his fiancée focus on the planning.
“Where does this go?” he asked one evening, a large cardboard box in his hands. They were almost finished moving everything into the home, with this truck load being the last from her apartment.
“In the bedroom closet, I think. Let me see.” Alma put down the bridal magazine she’d been reading and came to him, opening the flaps and peering inside before blushing a little. “Ah, yes, that is definitely one for the bedroom.”
Dylan’s eyebrows raised at that, then looked down into the box as she reached inside. Her hand came back outside, a pair of metal handcuffs dangling from one of her fingers. “Oh, I see, heh.”
“Mmmhmm. I think that you will like this trick very much.” Alma winked before clarifying. “And do not worry, I did not learn this one from anyone, I promise.” she said with a laugh.
“I am more than willing to be your guinea pig while you attempt to master it, believe you me.” Dylan said with a smirk.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Alma spun the cuffs around on her finger, motioning with her head for Dylan to follow her as she headed for the bedroom.
He put the box down quickly yet carefully before following his bride-to-be into their new bedroom, which thankfully they’d had the foresight to move the bed into already.
* * * * *
“Push! Keep pushing, Alma, you’re almost there!” The doctor’s voice, loud enough to be heard over Alma’s groans and the beeping of the hospital equipment, was also gently yet insistent.
Dylan sat beside his wife, holding her hand with both of his. He squeezed her hand each time the doctor encouraged her to push, unsure of what to say or do other than that. It was unusual for Dylan, someone so used to being in control of nearly any given situation, and he didn’t know what else to do.
Looking at his wife, however, revealed a completely different scene. There was no doubt that she was fighting hard and giving everything she had with every fiber of her being to deliver their child. He could only imagine what Alma was feeling, what kind of pain she was experiencing, but she wasn’t letting it interfere with what she had to do. This was their first child and while it was just as alien an experience to her as it was to him, Alma was handling it with aplomb. The strength and confidence she exuded was palpable, and Dylan was equal parts mystified and proud at how she was carrying herself.
“Just one more, Alma, one more and your baby’s here!” called the doctor. Alma grunted loudly and gave one more large push, nearly screaming at the effort, and then it was done.
The next several moments happened in a blur for Dylan. There was a heavy silence for a handful of seconds, then the sound of their baby screaming filled the air. Sound rushed in around it but all Dylan could hear was their newborn child.
He was still clenching Alma’s hand, gently now as her energy waned and she slumped back against the bed. The doctor and nurses hovered around the room, and Dylan was vaguely aware of their presence and what they were doing, looking instead at his wife.
“You did it, Alma. I’m so proud of you.” He reached over and wiped her brow, using a facecloth one of the nurses had given him. Alma just smiled faintly, unable to speak just yet.
“Mr. Rhodes?” came a voice from his side. Dylan turned to see it was one of the nurses, and that she was holding something. “Would you like to hold your daughter, sir?”
His daughter. He blinked, looking from the nurse to the tiny bundle she held in her arms. Sure enough, a tiny human being lay inside, one who had not been there just mere moments ago, and now he had a daughter. How had that happened? Words were failing him now, but he reached out carefully, letting go of Alma’s hand, and allowed the nurse to transfer the bundle into his arms. She made sure he was holding her properly and smiled warmly as Dylan held his little girl for the first time.
Alma managed to turn her head, her smile growing as she saw Dylan with their daughter in his arms. “Voila.”