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Ashes to Ashes	By : BurneHazard Category: S through Z > Sky High Views: 5390 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Sky High, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Author's Note: Jeeze...2007 to 2011? Been a LONG time since I did anything with this. I'm pretty rusty and a lot has happened. However, I've kinda gotten some inspiration from a very special young man--though he isn't aware of it yet. So...going to try to continue this piece. Remember, very rusty and since it's been so long, going to be doing a few things differently. If anyone still reads this stuff, feel free to review! It'd mean a lot to me. But please try to be constructive about what you have to say. Flaming without telling me/suggesting things will be ignored. I want commentary on what you like or dislike and why!

Now...if you really wish to continue, on with the story. Still no clue just where it's going to head. We shall see though. I've got new ideas for those I lost over the years.

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            Terry Foremain glanced down at her watch for what had to be the fortieth time. Taking a deep breath, she sighed at the slow creeping of the minute hand and turned back toward the house behind her. Of course she knew that everything was freshly cleaned, inspected, and perfectly prepared for the new owner to arrive. It was the waiting that was eating at her.
            Even though she was just standing in for her bosses, this was her first big sale and thus her first time really meeting a client on a one-on-one basis. Hands rising, she quickly re-checked her hair where it was pulled up in a neat bun at the back. The red strands had some frizz about them but remained in the artistically twisted roll secured by the scrunchie. Her three piece business suit remained impeccable.
            Again, she caught herself starting to look at her watch even though she knew barely a minute had passed. Nervousness had her nibbling at her lower lip and smearing a bit of the light red color over her teeth. Turning back to the sign with its fresh SOLD banner atop the notice, she reached out to flick some imaginary bits of dirt and grass away. The new owner was late.
            Just as she started to admit that, the sun shown off something reflective and caught her attention. A car turned onto the street and headed along it. It was an early spring day when most of the kids were still in school and their parents either at work or enjoying a bit of time to themselves. Watching the vehicle, she found herself hoping. She was not to be disappointed.
            The off-blue Buick Park Avenue slowed even further and pulled up along the curb just in front of her own tan Ford Escape. Hit by a sudden case of nerves, Terry managed a bright smile and took a step forward as the driver's door opened. The man climbing out had a lovely tan as far as she could see and his hair was pulled back in a neat tail caught behind his neck. As she approached though, she realized it was not a tan she was seeing but his natural coloring.
            Straightening, the driver gave a startlingly bright smile and nod toward Terry before he held up one hand in quiet request for her to wait. Pausing, she grasped her small briefcase and lingered near the sign. Turning, he moved to open the car's trunk and pull out a folded contraption. When he began to unfold and snap it into shape, she realized it was a wheelchair and mentally smacked herself.
            Of course her bosses had instructed her not to offer assistance to this particular person. Apparently they had a little knowledge of the customer. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other (thankfully she wore low heels and sensibly comfortable shoes rather than heels), she waited. The man finished locking the wheelchair into position then opened the passenger's door. Leaning down, he reached into the car.
            After a moment of shifting around and adjusting, he stepped back to snare the chair and pull it closer. Holding it securely, he waited as another person carefully slid themselves from the back seat into the waiting chair. Terry was itching with curiosity but stayed put until the couple had gotten everything in order and turned toward her.
            Sitting almost like a little girl--or perhaps a queen given the poise and way she held her head high--was a young woman. Her hair was a little darker than blond but had highlights a red-head like Terry could envy. It was pulled back into a high ponytail that made her appear younger than the age in the files the real estate agent had been privy to. Her eyes were a curious shade of blue with flecks of amber. Unfortunately, she was ghastly pale and seemed to be a little too skinny.
            "Ah, hello! For a while there, I was afraid you wouldn't be coming. We've had some troubles with people getting lost coming back to this house. Did you have a good trip?"
            The woman nodded once, smiling in a way that almost took Terry's attention off the nasty-looking burns she glimpsed on the bared left arm. It was another note in the files of course but seeing it first had for the first time was still quite shocking. Forcing her attention back to both of them, she stepped forward to offer the woman her hand.
            A slender hand with fingers that were a little long and slightly cool grasped the offered hand. "The trip was easy and pleasant. Thank you, Ms...?"
            "Oh! I'm terribly sorry. I'm Ms. Foremain, but please, call me Terry."
            "Thank you, Terry. I'm sorry but we were expecting Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold."
            "Yes, so I understand. Unfortunately, they had a family emergency rise. Please accept their apologies for dumping me on you instead. It certainly won't change our end of the deal."
            For a woman recovering from an accident, she certainly had a nice, firm handshake. Terry's smile became a little more relaxed as she offered her hand to the gentleman next. He shook his head politely, keeping his hands on the wheelchair.
            "Please forgive me, but these cheap things aren't really trustworthy. But I'm sure if he trusted this contraption not to collapse on me, he'd shake your hand. Right, Gavin?"
            The handsome young man nodded in that graceful way with that gorgeous smile. Blushing at the attention, Terry withdrew her hand to clasp the handle of her briefcase again. Clearing her throat, she nodded quickly.
            "Quite all right! Really, it's fine. The alterations you requested have been made to the property, Ms. Windsong. You'll find wheelchair ramps leading up to the porch and a lift to aid in travelling up and down the stairs. And the entire bathroom and kitchen area has been remodeled as well."
            "Please, just call me Crystal. Might we go inside to have a look before I sign the papers?"

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            Gavin waved as the tan Escape pulled away. He was still smiling after the gleeful woman as she waved back. Watching through the lacy privacy curtains in the living room, Crystal sighed and glanced down at the wheelchair absently. It was finally finished. As soon as Terry made copies and filed the documents, the deed would be mailed to them. It was finally over. But it did not help her to relax.
            The front door opened and closed quietly. She heard Gavin's footsteps approaching over the bare floor and the faint swish and brush as he stepped onto the carpet. It was made on purpose since she knew full well he could move without any sound if he wanted. His hand felt hot where it came to rest on her shoulder. Without lifting her head, she reached up to grasp his hand with her good one.
            Are you all right? his presence and touch asked clear as day.
            Lifting her head, she tilted it back to look up at him. After a moment, she sighed and turned her attention to the rest of the room. The furniture was...alien. Most of it was new save for a couple of pieces they had delivered and set up before their arrival.
            "Yeah, I'm fine, Gav. Just..." she trailed off.
            It took him a moment before he caught her gaze. Looking around as well, he nodded slowly. His hand tightened on her shoulder with mind to how sore she still was.
            He would still be busting his buttons with pride in you, Chris. You know that.
            Despite the fact he could say nothing, it was almost as if his thoughts were audible for her. Then again, she knew him better than she knew herself most of the time.
            "I know, Gav. I just wish...you know. It's just not the same house without him."
            Helplessly, all that the young man known as Gavin Dovev could do was be there as Crystal tilted her head to rest against his arm. When he felt the first wet tickle of warmth against the back of his hand, he leaned forward to wrap both arms around his best friend before she broke into sobs. Holding her as he had for the past few months, he rubbed her uninjured side and bowed his head to press kisses to her hair.
            When her tears ended rather abruptly, she took several hitching breaths and calmed down. He did not release her yet though. Instead, he took to gently brushing the wetness off her cheeks and neck.
            "Well...even if he isn't here, it's still home to me."
            And who says you can't go home? he wondered.
            "Who says you can't ever go home?" she echoed his thought without fail even though she was oblivious to it. Already her eyes were sharpening despite the puffiness around them. He released her at last, knowing that look well. She was already making plans for something.
            Welcome home, Crystal.
            Now all he had to see was how well her home adjusted to her return. Looking around, he remembered all of the good times in this house or on the roof, or in the back yard. Really, aside from the furnishings and time spent unoccupied and unsold, it was unchanged. He knew from a previous tour their trees were still in the back yard even if the swing had been removed. The branch it hung from was still there.
            "I suppose, once my things arrive, we'd better get to work."
            One brow rose as he looked at her. The spark of fire that had been extinguished for the past two years was flickering. It both relieved and worried him. Her grin however untangled his tense muscles. Even though she was wearing a short sleeved shirt, she made the motions of rolling those nonexistent sleeves up.
            "Let's see if our remodeling crew installed all those neat little extras we paid them for."
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Ashes to Ashes