Mortimer Lima Bean continued

Ok, to avoid complete confusion, go here. I'm going to pick up where Nathan left off. I know I should work on my real stories but I'm blocked pretty badly, and this seemed fun.

...I just hope your prepared to pay the price!"

That was ten years ago. President Pierce had saved the Queen, but Mortimer was still waiting for the price. It ate at him a little bit every day. He'd never told the Queen how he'd managed to fend off the guinea pigs; he could not bear her knowing that he, her constant unfailing protector had come that close to failing. That only a former president in an avocado had come between her and peanut-buttery rodent death.
But there wasn't time to think about that now, thought Mortimer as he tied his silver bowtie around the neck of his uncomfortable dress uniform. Now he needed to focus on protection for the ceremony. Now, the Queen and her daughter would both be flown ion on zeppelins for the beginning of the ceremony - or at least that's how it would appear. Only Mortimer, the zeppelin pilots and a few trusted officers knew there was nothing in those airships but recycled newspapers. The Queen and her daughter, however, would emerge up the trapdoors and through the doors of the zeppelins, and no one would be th wiser. But there was no way to protect them after that, when they were out in the open on the ceremonial platform. For that, Mortimer would have to rely on his instincts, his skilled team, and his deadeye shot with the marmalady.
Mortimer took up his place next to the platform. He looked out into the audience as each of his five underlings gave him the hi sign.
"Alright," he said into the microphone, "We are go for zeppelins. Right on schedule."
Immediately he saw the empty zeppelins rise over the horizon. Everything was going right. This would be easy. But what was that in the crowd? A face he hadn't seen in a long time! It couldn't be! And suddenly he disappeared behind a hot dog stand. But Mortimer knew what he had seen. It was the face of Franklin Pierce. The price, it seemed, was coming.

The ceremony went off without a hitch after that, although Mortimer's mind was elsewhere. He was there to meet the Queen as she dived off the ceremonial platform and swam the royal channel into the palace, her daughter hanging onto her ankle with her ceremonial snorkel on her face.
As she climbed out of the water, safely inside the palace, Mortimer ushered them into a small room, handed the two monarchs their royal towels and obediently turned his back. They didn't question his continued presence; the queen trusted him implicitly by now.
"Very well done, Mortimer," the queen said in her elegant accent, "Although I DO wish I could actually ride the zeppelin like we did in the old days."
"Indeed!" agreed her daughter.
"I do apologize, your majesties, but your safety is of the utmost importance to me. This you know."
"Of course."
"My liege," he asked, his voice trembling.
"Yes?" The Queen was confused; she wasn't used to his speaking when not spoken to outside of times of crisis.
"You know my right hand, Milly Carrot?"
"The skinny girl with the big hair?!?" asked the princess, the distaste oozing out of her voice, "Oh, and you can turn around Morty. We're decent."
"Yes, your royalness that's the one," he said, not turning around.
"Do go on," The queen said.
"Well, you know I have been in the service of the crown my whole life, like my father before me."
"Yes..."
"Well, my family has collectively 2 decades of unused vacation time, due to our unwavering steadfast defense of your person."
The Queen gasped.
"Mortimer! You can't be planning to actually USE it!?!"
"Well not all of it!" he said quickly, "I just need a few weeks! And Milly's quite good!"
"What do YOU need a vacation for?" asked the princess, "You don't have any family or anything."
Mortimer turned around at last, addressing his queen and ignoring her uppity teenage successor. "Your majesty, I have reason to believe I may actually be endangering you with my presence. Someone out there may want me dead, and I must deal with it. To protect you I must do this as far from you as I can. So I will be taking as much "vacation" as I need to sort this out, effective next week, if it pleases your majesty."
The Queen was silent for several seconds.
"You're sure the girl will be alright?"
"She's very good, my liege."
"Try not to be gone too long, Mortimer. I feel much safer when you're around."
"I'll be as fast as I possibly can, your majesty. May I take your wet clothes?"
She gave them to him, neatly folded and her daughter followed suit with a randomly crumpled white dress. Obediently carrying the soaked garments, Mortimer followed the Queen and her daughter to their rooms. In a week he would leave his post for the first time anyone in his family had ever done so. He had to do it to save the queen, but it still felt so wrong. And what would Pierce do when he caught up with him? Only time would tell.

So I promised I wouldn't start another story, but the fact that technically Nate started it makes a convenient loophole, eh?