Caesar could see Pompey coming up on his expensive Public Horse through the window. Always pompous. Pompous Pompeius. Caesar chuckled at the pun.

The sky was grey and overcast. It was just after midday, and the owner of this small farmhouse had left the very best for his beloved Popularis to eat. A modest bowl of olives and a few leaves of lettuce laced with delicate oil. The farmer had also placed an urn of the best wine he had in his homestead. Caesar's tumbler of water sat on the table across from the wine, as yet untouched.

This meeting with Pompeius was Caesar's last hope to avert an all out war between Romans. He had payed the sharecropper handsomely for the use of his two room 'house' for the day. The man hardly believed his fortune when Caesar himself told him who he would be meeting with. After forcing the man to take the money, Caesar sent him on his way and waited for his old friend.

---

Pompey had eaten one olive and downed a cup of wine, having not said a word or so much as looked at Caesar, who was casually leaning on the wall. Still looking idly outside at Pompey's horse, tied loosely to a tree so it could graze.

Caesar turned quickly and asked, "Why do you tempt me, old friend?" Caesar looked like he already knew the answer.

"Because," said Pompey, "You threaten the stability of the Republic." Pompey felt sheepish. His answer sounded rehearsed.

Caesar sat, leaned his chair back and folded his hands on his lap. "That sounds like the perfect impression of Cato, had he no spine." He beamed his famous smile at Pompeius.

"What?" Pompey asked.

"You know well, what." Caesar looked tired. "You don't care, and never have, about the stability of the Republic. You want two things Pompeius. And two only. For I have never seen you lose yourself except when you are granted those two things occasionally."

"And what are those?"

"Acceptance and command."

"From whom and of what?" shot the Great Man.

"By the Romans, in particular the nobiles, and all the legions possible, respectively." He looked hard into his friend's eyes, and thought he saw fear. It wasn't quite right. Pompey thought too much of himself to fear Caesar. Sadness, then. It must be sadness. Sadness for a life full of pain and hardship. "My friend, you are blinded by your desires. The Boni, quite obviously, are using the lesser of the evils against the other. They despise you, but fear me. They know I have the blood. Preying on your desires, they have arrayed themselves with you to dispose of me. Once that is finished, what do you think they will do?"

"Honor me," said Pompey with feigned assurance.

"No, they will drop you right back in Picenum, just as they have before." Caesar fell forward onto the table abruptly and folded his arms. "You must not worry, old friend. This is the way it is in Rome. Those from the outside remain there until long after they are dead. No one who is a New Man can ever be accepted in his lifetime. Ever." The word echoed through Pompey, who knew and also would not believe. "Look at Marius! Proclaimed a Founder of Rome, and still he had his opponents."

"I know," he whispered. He wouldn't cry, but the old feeling for tantrum had been replaced in his old age by the urge to pout. "I can't help you, my friend. Never. I can't."

"Of course you can't. That wouldn't be honorable. About-face in the middle of the fight? I wouldn't either. You've chosen, but not wisely. Now you have to deal with it."

"What now, then?" Pompeius thought of Julia, his one true love, now dead. He wished for a moment that he could relax in her embrace. She always knew how to explain Caesar to her so that he understood completely.

"Well, you must go where you have sent your allies. But we can agree, can we not, to force a reconciliation?" Caesar hoped it would work. "All I ever wanted was my due. If they can be held back from fighting, surely we can work this whole mess out." Caesar rose and patted Pompey on the back.

Pompey rose and replied, "I don't know, they want your blood."

Caesar laughed it off. "They won't move without you. So just don't move. I promise, I won't even bother with your provinces. Just keep the peace until we come to terms."

Pompey walked out and onto his horse, wanting more than ever to return to his fortress-villa in Picenum. He rode south with Caesar watching from the doorway.