Title: Delusions of Grandeur

Author: Banaoire

Rating: INCETMFR (I'm not clever enough to make funny ratings)

Archive: If you must

Disclaimer: You all belong to yourselves, Harmon Rab belongs to D.
Bellasario, and The General belongs to the Flanneled One.

Banaoire leaned back on the thick towel covering her deck chair, and sighed. She felt the sun soaking into every molecule of her light deprived body.

"Mmmm, so this big bright thing in the sky is called a sun?" She asked quietly.

From down the row of chairs she heard Emmy snort. Ban's fellow Northwesterner was a transplant, and took every opportunity to complain about the rain. Ban had rain in her blood as a fourth generation Oregonian and had never thought much of those that worshipped the sun.

But, she was beginning to understand.

"Is it just me, or are any of you missing the school?" Ban asked. A chorus of groans and growls answered her. "No, not HIM! The school." The chorus calmed down.

"I think when we get back, and get everything...straightened out..." A boisterous snerk from Die at this. "I'd like to get to work on staging that opera I was thinking about. Only thing is, we need an opera house."

Again, a chorus of noncommittal "Uh-huhs" and "mmm-hmmms." Banaoire opened her eyes under her perscription Ray Bans and looked dreamily at the brilliant blue sky. They weren't interested now, but she had a plan that should excite even the Alpha Ho.

"Pirates of Penzance" or "Don Giovanni?" Which to choose... Both offered interesting costume possibilities for the General...

Now, all she needed to do was get the ground breaking underway for the operahouse! The millions of credits waiting for her back at the University should be just enough to create the kind of uber-palace she had in mind.

Only the best for the Hos! She felt the tingle of anticipation up and down her spine. It would certainly be a dream come true for her. But, all her dreams could wait. Now was the time for R & R.

Ban rolled over and crooked a finger at Harm. The Navy fighter-pilot turned lawyer left the barbecue and kneeled next to her. His sparkling blue eyes put the sky to shame. His dog tags had slipped out of his black tank-top, and Ban suddenly had the urge to grab them and yank him closer.

But, instead she sweetly said, "Harmon, dear...another Margarita?"