The way she spoke, so soft and low, brought back feelings he had thought he'd never have again. He remembered stolen moments in the palace, the passion of courtship when she would tease and deny him. He remembered warmer moments after, when she had spoken in private tones in his ear, when she had only to touch him to ignite passion. His cheeks felt warm at the memories, and he smiled despite himself. "Oh, I missed you even more than I thought," he murmured, then laughed softly. "Shall I turn into a cuckoo and woo you once more, my wife?"<br/><br/>The slip caused his warm mood to evaporate. He had avoided such epithets, careful to avoid exerting any possession of her he might have felt. To do so when things finally felt natural seemed wrong, somehow. Hastily he changed subject, pressing on before his faux pas could be acknowledged. "Right, though. Tomorrow at twelve-thirty. I shall be there. I won't keep you any longer, I'm sure you want to speak to the girls, and that you have other tasks to see to. It's... I'm glad you called. I said that before, I know, but it remains no less true. Until tomorrow." Zeus set the receiver down on the phone softly but swiftly, eyes turning to his discarded steak. His mood to eat had been somewhat soured and he stood again, pacing instead to the window that looked out over the city. It was dark now, the carpet of light beneath him eerily reminiscent of the sky as he had known it in ancient times. "To think that they pulled down my domain and made it their own," he whispered softly. "What would you say now, Cronus, of your proudest son?" The question hung heavy in the air and nothing but distant thunder gave answer.<br/><br/>Bright and early the next day, Zeus departed his room and had the hotel consigliere direct him to the nearest shop that could set him up with a more modern phone. It was easy to grow his beard and age his face and play the part of an old man desperate to connect with his grandchildren, and the young man who helped him was only too happy to explain how to add contacts, make calls, and even text. It struck him as very strange, but if Hera had mastered it, so would he. Perhaps it was stubborn pride, what little remained to him, but it was even more a desire to stand before her and say he could learn, he could adapt, and he would do so no matter how bizarre.<br/><br/>Zeus left the shop at ten past eleven, still tinkering with his new device. The clerk had been so kind as to even show him the map feature, showing him how to search for specific restaurants and other locations. It had been a bit of work to spell<i>Έδεσμα </i>for the boy in modern English, but they'd gotten there eventually. Fortunately it wasn't very far off, close enough that Zeus felt comfortable attempting to update his wardrobe before meeting his estranged wife. He had liked the suit before, but he'd heard how her assistant had giggled over it. He still had no rightful idea what a 'pimp cane' might be.<br/><br/>The shop he settled on seemed to know its business. In short order he was fitted with sleek black pants and a jacket to match, along with a white shirt underneath. The top button was left unclasped, and despite his liking for hats the proprietor assured him one would only mar the look. Zeus had to admit, the suit did flatter his shape, accentuating his broad chest and shoulders, and while black was more the domain of Hades the way it contrasted with his white hair was pleasing. He thanked and paid the man, then hurried on his way to the restaurant, eager to be on time.<br/><br/>Twelve twenty-five found Zeus outside the doors, scowling at his new phone. "Siri-Google. Tell me of this pimp cane." The phone didn't respond. Zeus thumbed the button that lit the screen up. "Siri-Google! I demand to know what you know of pimps and the cane associated with them!" Still, the phone refused to answer. He swore in Greek and thumbed the button again, but it only shut the screen back off. "Accursed machine. Tell me of the pimp cane...!" He was oblivious to the strange looks he got.