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The Reminiscing Process	By : DarkKitty27 Category: S through Z > Secret Window Views: 2832 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Secret Window, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Miss Me?
- 2-Bedtime
- 3-Tradition
- 4-Alone
- 5-Bliss
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Chapt: Be: Bedtime

Mort's late-afternoon nap was cancelled since Lizzy was there. He set up the cot for her in the spare room upstairs down hall from his.

She offered to make dinner for them that night, but Mort's cupboards weren't exactly chocked full, so she made them ham sandwiches and they shared a bag of Doritos. Meanwhile, she filled in in on all the things he had missed. Apparently Bill was now a successful accountant and Melanie, a 3rd grade teacher at their local elementary school. Lizzy, herself, was working as a freelance photographer, for weddings, Christmas cards and such. She had a good business, and she often tookss pss pictures for the classes at Melanie's school.

As it got later, Lizzy went down to the basement to bring up Mort's old black and white TV. He'd never bought a new one since that because he knew if he had it, he was spend all his time there, like a zombie, and never get past his writers block. She claimed TV's helped her sleep, so, she brought it up and plugged it in the spare room. She laughed at Mort, telling him it might be good for him to discover the wonders of color TV. He waved his hand a her saying "Pish Posh" in an old grumpy voice and she laughed aimlessly at him, running upstairs to shower and change into her PJ's.

When she came back down, Mort wa his his office. Some old furniture from the cabin, his lap top, and a new desk....the old one was...unusable. He removed his robe, setting it on the back of the chair, and he sat down at his desk in an old white cotton tee-shirt and a pair of worn boxers. He sat and thought about Lizzy. She was growing on him again, just like she had when she was little. In just a few hours he had begun to feel more upbeat. Her light hearted attitude and lust for life also made him feel old and wiry, but the feelings surpassed. It was just nice to have someone around for a change. Although he'd have to be a bit neater.

He heard the pad of her bare feet approach the room and he set his chin is his hand, leaning his elbow on the desk just staring at his empty word document. She entered the doorway with a little tap, tap on the door frame. He fought back a bubbly feeling that stirred within him as he took in her presence. She tied her hair back in a messy knot, and some tiny ringlets framed her face. She was wearing a white cotton tank top with the word "Dream" etched in sparkly letters, and her cotton pants were light blue dotted with moons and stars. She was clearly not wearing a bra any longer, and his eyes darted away from that area at once. Her green eyes sparkled at him.

"Writer's block?" She asked, hopping up on the end of his desk and dangling her legs about.

"Yea, I guess you could say that," Mort replied, hitting the backspace key once or twice, deleting imaginary words.

"Since your not busy," she started, looking down at her dangling feet, "could you come up and tuck me in real quick?"

Mort suppressed other...inappropriate thoughts. "Aren't you, what, 26? And you still need to be tucked in?...next you'll be telling me you want your binky and your teddy."

"Mort," she hit his arm playfully and he grimaced as if mortally wounded, "I'm reminiscing the past, therefore you have to tuck me in. Come on, it's fun. Jump on the bandwagon." Lizzy hopped off the desk, motioning for him to follow.

He sighed, gathering himself up from his old chair in her lead. He followed suit, trying desperately not to look at the young behind and hips that swiveled in front of his face on the way upstairs.

Lizzy entered the spare room, switching on the old black and white TV and hopping onto the cot. It made a loud squeak and Mort chuckled at her flighty ambiance. She still seemed so young at heart, when clearly her appearance was very adult. At least, it was very clear to him.

She scrambled under the covers, pulling them up only half way to her knees and then flopped back, waiting patiently for Mort to tuck her in. He walked over to the side of the cot, smiling warmly down at her and shaking his head at her nonsensical ways. He reached across and yanked the covers up her neck and she wiggled underneath looking like a happy puppy. Saying goodnight to her, he switched off the light on the wall and began to walk out when she called to him.

"Wait, Mort?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you have another spare blanket? I'm a little cold."

He nd, "d, "Yea, I'll be right back." Mort walked down the hall to his room, flipping on the light. He grabbed a dark red blanket from his un-made bed and carried it back tzzy.zzy. "Here," he said draping the blanket on top of her and smoothing out the wrinkles.

"Thanks, much better," she said smiling at him.

"Goodnight Lizzy," he said, turning away again.

"Hey," she called and he looked back at her. She turned her head and tapped her cheek expectantly. Mort sighed again, trudging back to the side of the bed, leaning over her. She tilted her head back more, sticking her cheek out and her eyes fluttered closed. He blinked twice, before leaning in and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to her cheek. The feel of his course facial hair against her face sent a wild shiver through her body. And she tried to control the rapid beat of her heart.

"Goodnight Mort Mort," she whispered, as he walked away. When he shut the door behind him he leaned against the wall. 'Her skin was so soft,' he thought, she smelled his shampoo. The thought of her in his shower sent warmth to his groin and he shook his head. 'No,' she doesn't think of you that way so stop it, or you'll never be able to make it through the week.' He ran a hand through his hair again as he padded off to his bedroom.

When she heard his footsteps going back downstairs, Lizzy let out the breath she had been holding. 'God,' she thought, 'he's so beautiful...so sweet, so...sexy...' her mind conjured up a fantasy of the previous moment, if only she had turned her head and pressed her lips to his. She would have given anything to feel his weight press down upon her body, to kiss his full lips and high cheekbones, run her hands through his messy hair. And look deep into his eyes...oh his eyes, they were shimmering black pearls that she could get lost in forever.

When she saw him in his office earlier, she had to keep from sitting in his lap and running her hands across his firm cotton clad chest. She wanted nothing more, now that she was here, to kiss him with all the passion she had in her and tell him how she felt. She had a crush on his since she was 13 and it had suppressed mildly over the years. But, when he opened the door earlier in the day, all the feelings she ever had for him came rushing back into her heart like a flood.

A familiar warm rush came over her body and she shuttered. She brought the blankets closer up to her body and grasped the one that Mort had brought from his bed. She pulled it up close to her face and inhaled deeply. 'oh god,' she thought, feeling her insides melt; it smelled just like him. That pungent mixture of his shampoo and a dark, masculine scent that was his and his alone. Lizzy reached under the covers and slipped her pajama pants off, throwing them into her suit case across the room. She was left in her tank top and a pair of white cotton panties.

She could feel a warm wetness between her thighs and she knew she would never be able to sleep if she was restless for release all night. She closed her eyes and imagined her hands were Mort's as she trailed them down her body. Her fingers slipped beneath her panties and she gasped, imagining it was his deft, warm fingers moving inside of her. Suddenly, she heard Mort's footsteps in the distance, coming upstairs. She froze, unmoving waiting for his footsteps to pass, hear heart beating furiously. She heard him pad to the bathroom at the end of the hall and shut the door.

Lizzy released a breath and few seconds later, she heard the shower turn on. Her hand moved of it's own accord again as she pictured Mort slowly stripping off his clothes. She heard the pattern of the water change as he stepped in and the mental image of him gloriously naked, hot water streaming down his chest, his abs, lower....sent her over the edge. She remembered the first time she ever saw him semi-nude....their last time at the lake in the summer in the nothing but a pair of swimming trunks. She came with a shutter, whispering his name inside her head. Suddenly tired, she turned over, nuzzling into her pillow. She pulled Mort's dark red blanket close to her chest and hugged it tight against her. Lizzy was lulled to soft slumber by the sound of the shower, and the comforting image of the man inside.
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The Reminiscing Process