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“You guys aren’t that different.” It had been a cute sentiment in the heat of the moment, and gosh darn it, if it hadn’t motivated Jedediah and Octavius to work together, but now that the fighting was done and the museum was safe, Jed had a secondary score to settle. He was nothing like Octavius, even if the toga wearing weirdo actually wasn’t quite as bad as he had first thought. They were both leaders, men on a mission, but that was where the similarities ended. In the day-to-day, they would never get along, and Jed had to prove it to himself (and his pride).
The sun had barely set when he was making his way from the Wild West diorama into the Roman one. Unlike his men, who were up and about, taking care of the daily tasks that kept a frontier town running and indulging in the entertainment which made it fun, many of the Roman soldiers were simply milling around. The town’s civilians didn’t seem to have an issue, but the soldiers. They were a mobilized army. They didn’t know what to do without somewhere to march to or someone to fight.
Spotting a man he knew to be one of Octavius’s highest ranking men, Jed hailed him down. “Hey Sargent Sandals! Where’s Octy?”
The young man turned to face him, a scandalized expression on his face. “My name,” he huffed, “is Marcus Caelius. General Caesar is currently performing an inspection of the cavalry.”
“Cavalry!” Jed’s ears perked up. “You have horses!”
Marcus Caelius cocked his head. “You don’t?”
“A couple. Where are they?”
The Roman pointed toward a building near the other edge of the diorama. Horses being even more motivating than arguing with Octavius, it didn’t take Jed long to get there. There were two guards posted outside of the building, but they didn’t bat an eye when he poked his head in.
It wasn’t quite like the stables Jed was used to, but the heady smell, rows of horses peeking out over the stalls, and soft swish of tales and stamp of hooves were all warmly familiar. Octavius was standing about halfway down, not “performing an inspection” so much as he was visiting the horses. Currently, he was stroking the nose of a gorgeous dark brown horse. Hearing Jed, he looked away from the horse to fix brown eyes on him.
“Jedediah!” There was so much warmth in his voice that Jed felt a little guilty for coming over here to stir it up, but it was quick to dissipate. America might trade with Britain, but they would never be bosom friends. There was too much national pride in it.
“You still have horses!” Jed blurted out. Polite, no, but he was too confused. The Wild West diorama had a couple of horses, you couldn’t have a cowboy exhibit without them, but nothing like this veritable legion locked up here. Jed had seen them in them back in the 90s, the first couple of times he and Octavius had fought, but they had disappeared quickly.
“Of course,” the Roman shrugged. “Rome has a cavalry. Do you really think the museum would neglect to represent that by not giving us horses.”
“But I haven’t seen them in-why didn’t you use them then?” Jed protested. “These woulda’ been devastating!”
Heat flushed in Octavius’s cheeks. “I..well..I didn’t have a need for them! The Roman legion could easily defeat your army even without horses!”
“Please,” the blonde rolled his eyes. “If we had workin’ guns your lot would be done for. That tin can you’re wearing wouldn’t have a chance in hell of stopping a bullet.”
“Our armor is state of the art!”
“In the stone age, maybe.”
“Guys,” Larry’s disembodied voice rang out over the diorama, making both men jump. “Jed, Octavius?.”
They hurried outside the stable and peered up at Larry’s huge form. The man was currently squinting down into the Wild West diorama.”
“Larry!” Octavius used his battlefield shout, hands cupped around his mouth so it would carry even farther. “Over here!”
The night guard looked around in confusion for a second, then spotted them in the Roman diorama and came over.
“Howdy partner,” Jed yelled up to him, tipping his hat.
“Hey guys,” Larry made an effort to whisper, but he was still startlingly loud. “I just wanted to check in and make sure you haven’t gone back to fighting.”
“About that,” Finally, something was going Jed’s way. “Maybe we’re not at each other's throats anymore, but you can’t very well say we’re similar.”
“Well of course you are,” Larry sounded so condescending when he said it, and Jed and Octavius looked at each other and shook their heads.
“See!” he exclaimed (way too loudly for Jed’s ears). “You have the exact same exasperated look on your faces right now.”
“Ok, let me explain this,” Jed said once Larry had transferred them to the bench to avoid disturbing the other Romans too much. “Octy and I might get along, and we might both be great leaders or whatever, but beyond that? I am nothing like him. He’s so…” Jed waved a hand at Octavius, not sure exactly what he was referring to. “So Roman.”
Larry thought for a moment, then posed a question. “Ok, what about Manifest Destiny?”
Jed scoffed. “Romans don’t have Manifest Destiny. That’s a uniquely American-”
“We believe in conquering as much of the world as possible. We don’t call it something as corny as ‘Manifest Destiny’ but it’s the same nationalistic principle.”
The cowboy resisted the urge to stamp a booted food in frustration. “You’re encouraging him!”
“Not intentionally,” Octavius sighed. “Frankly, I agree with you, but in the interest of honesty, I must acknowledge when Larry poses a valid argument.
“And that’s another thing. You’re so political and uptight. Me, I wouldn’t touch a senate seat with a ten foot pole,”
“Political office is a noble obligation, Jedediah. You just have an aversion to the law.”
He shrugged. “It’s not my fault the law is stupid.”
“The law is not-” Octavius spluttered, scandalized.
“You can argue over trivialities all you want guys,” Larry interjected again. “But the truth is, you’re both very opinionated. You’re also both daring, prideful, stubborn, and loyal. You’re not the same person, and maybe Octavius is more formal and Jed is rowdy, but when you boil it down, you’re more alike than you aren’t. Wouldn’t you rather just accept that and be friends?”
The tratorus voice in Jed’s head, the one that was desperately lonely for a relationship that was more than drunk card games and late night campfire stories whispered “yes”, but he was too stubborn and too proud (curse you Larry) to just suck it up and admit it directly. “Well,” He said, hooking his thumbs in his belt. “Now that we’ve save the world, metaphorically speakin’, together, I suppose I might have to drop it. Friends, Octy?”
“I would be honored to be your friend, Jedediah,” Say what you will about Roman formality, that did something to him. “To be honest, I thought we had this settled.”
“We did," That was a lie, but he didn't have to know it. "I just don’t wanna become some sort of matching set like girls do. Same talk, same dress, same interests, you know the deal.”
Octavius sighed deeply. “For the last time, this is not a dress.”
The tension snapped, and Jed was grinning widely. “It’s at least a skirt.”
“Well, yes, but it does not have the connotations you are applying based on your cultural-”
“Shut your mouth toga boy!”