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More Than Darkness	By : SaMe Category: M through R > Once Upon A Time In Mexico Views: 4591 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 44-44
- 45-45
- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
- 55-55
- 56-56
- 57-57
- 58-58
- 59-59
- 60-60
- 61-61
- 62-62
- 63-63
- 64-64
- 65-65
- 66-66
- 67-67
- 68-68
- 69-69
- 70-70
- 71-71
- 72-72
- 73-73
- 74-74
- 75-75
- 76-76
- 77-77
- 78-78
- 79-79
- 80-80
- 81-81
- 82-82
- 83-83
- 84-84
- 85-85
- 86-86
- 87-87
- 88-88
- 89-89
- 38
- 39
- 40
This is a crossover smutty story featuring the character of
Tess/Salida ie Tess' Voice in Neon Dasies' OUATIM fics on ff.net,
More Than Eyes Alone Can See, and More
Than Life, and Sands/Jeffrey from Merrie's OUATIM fic
on ff.net, Darkness Rising. This story will make some sense, probably, if you
read it without having read either of our stories, but it'll make a hell of a
lot more if you just read them. They're all worth reading, we promise. Anyway,
on with the show.
Rated for what has happened, and what might happen. We�re really not quite sure ourselves. On with the story.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Time passed without Salida being aware of it. She remembered talking to her husband, but
couldn�t remember if she had or if she�d just wanted to. The room was dark and cold, and her teeth
were fuzzy, and her eyes were sandy from crying, and she was scared. What if she wasn�t real? What if all this was imaginary? What if the rattling of a lock was something
she�d invented to make her loneliness go away?
Or the sound of footsteps? She
closed her eyes.
�Salida? I�m here,� Jeffrey said softly, moving to
stand next to her at the side of what had been their bed. Just seeing her was tearing him to pieces, but
he wouldn�t let it affect him. Not now. He to to try and get her home.
��Usted est� seguro?�
�Am I sure about
what?� Jeffrey asked with a frown.
��Usted es realmente aqu�?�
�Yes. I�m really here, Salida. I�m fucking standing right in front of you. I said I�d come and I did.�
�El dijo que yo no soy verdadero. Podr�a estar so�ando.�
He
said I�m not real. I could be dreaming.
�Who said? You�re not fucking dreaming, Salida.�
�El dijo. Nadie me quiere. Usted no me debe querer.� Her eyes cleared for a moment and she looked
at him. �Did you bring my toothbrush?�
�If I didn�t want
you I wouldn�t fucking be here,� he muttered under his breath. And I
sure as hell wouldn�t let you put me through this shit. �No, I didn�t. It�s at home where you left it.�
She seemed to hear
the resentment in his voice. ��Por qu� no me dijo
usted?�
�Why didn�t I tell
you what, Salida?� he asked wearily.
��Que lo mato yo? El dijo eso tambi�n.� She sounded miserable.
�It�s sounds like
he said a lot of things. Why would you believe
anything he told you, Salida? You�re not
killing me. I�m . . . I don�t look like
I�m dead, now do I?�
�Usted sano muerto.� You
sound dead. Before he could reply,
she changed the topic. Jeffrey clenched
his fists at the sight of them. �I�ll
kill him,� he muttered darkly.
She twisted around
in the bed, and fixed her panicked eyes on him.
�No . . . no. No more
fighting. Please. �Fine. Are
you going to fucking come home now, Salida? Or am I going to have to drag you? Because I�m fucking tired, and clawed to
pieces, and I just want to sleep for a fucking week.� He was tired of being subtle. Fuck, he was just plain tired.
She noddepan pan
style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He was mad at her for daring to make sure
Sands stayed around, but she could live with that. �Yes.
Take me home.�
�You going to go as
you fucking are or are you going to put some pants on? I�m just asking.�
He was cursing at
her again. He must really be upset. �I�ll
get dressed,� she whispered, crawling out of bed.
�You do that,
Salida. I�ll wait on the fucking couch.�
He left the room and went to sit down in
the living room, leaning back in the familiar couch heavily. He didn�t mean to be so fucking snappish with
her, but he couldn�t seem to fucking help it.
Salida appeared a
few minutes later appearing rumpled and tired, but steady on her feet. She stood in the doorway of the bedroom and
murmured, �I�m ready.�
Jeffrey nodded and
rose to his feet after a moment�s regret. �Come on. Let�s go home.� With that, he led her out of
their former hotel room and down to the car. He headed straight home without hesitation or
conversation.
When they arrived
home, Salida climbed out of the car without waiting for his help, and went into
the house before he could say anything to her.
By the time he�d gotten to their room as well, she was in bed, the
blankets pulled up around her and her back to the door.
After he set her
food in front of her, he announced, �I�ll be out on the fucking porch. I need a cigarette. Or six,� he muttered under his breath, walking
towards the back door.
He was leaving
her? �Remember the night we met?� she
asked desperately. She didn�t want to be
alone. �Remember how I stole your
cigarette?�
He paused in front
of the door. �You�ve done it more than
just that fucking once. You can�t fucking
have one now. Not fucking good for you.�
�Of course not,�
she whispered to her cereal. He
obviously wasn�t in the mood to reminisce. �I guess you�d better go outside
then.�
�No, you brought it
up for a fucking reason. Yes I fucking
remember. It seems like a long time ago,
but I do. Why?�
�It doesn�t
matter. It�s not important.� I just
miss that.
�Fine.� Jeffrey moved outside and sat on the step
heavily, doing his best to ignore the thick humidity present in the city
already this morning. He sat and chain
smoked for a long while before deciding he�d had enough of the fucking heat and
went back inside.
Salida had decided
that if she couldn�t get Jeffrey to respond favorably to her soon, she was
going to give up.�I always will,�
Jeffrey said softly.
�I know.� Salida�s eyes closed again and she moved
closer to him.
�Get some rest,
vixen. When you wake up we�ll start our
day. And everything will be alright,� he
said with a s smi smile, holding her close.
�Okay.� She slowly fell asleep, her lullaby the sound
of her husband�s heart and breath.

****************************** ***
******************************

�Did you want breakfast again, vixen?� Jeffrey asked lightly
as they came downstairs. �It�s not
exactly time for it anymore, but who the fuck cares? I didn�t have any this morning.�
�It pat pancakes.�
�Hmm, sounds like a
plan. I haven�t had any fucking pancakes
since our impromptu fucking road trip.
We�ll have to go out though.�
�Okay.�
Jeffrey nodded and
took her by the hand and moved into the living room to find Aida. �We�re going out for breakfast, kitty. We shouldn�t be gone long.� He felt a strange urge to be civil to her due
to her help yesterday.
�Well, you can get
some groceries while you�re out. We�re
out of kitten chow, and almost out of litter.
Not to mention a bunch of other stuff.
I�ve started a list.� Aida looked
exhausted, but she got up readily enough and fetched the list.
Jeffrey sighed but
accepted the list when she handed it to him. �Alright. Then we�ll be gone a little fucking longer.�
She just
shrugged. �People have to eat. Cats have to eat.�
�Yeah, yeah. Fine. I�ll
do the fucking grocery shopping. Anything
else?� he asked wryly.
�Umm . . . yeah.� Getting her purse, Aida dug out several slips
of paper. �Will you get these filled for
me?�
Jeffrey sighed
again, but took the slips from her. �Can
I? I mean, will they fucking let me if
you�re not there?�
�Yeah. If they have any questions they�ll just call
my doctor.�
�Fine. Is that fucking it? Last chance.�
�Yeah. Get out of here already so I can take a nap.�
Jeffrey snorted in
irritation. �You�re fucking welcome,
kitty,� he muttered before turning to Salida. �Let�s get the fuck out of here.�

****************************** ***
******************************

Salida looked a little askance at her husband as he held out
his arm to let her climb into the booth first, but she did so without
complaint. She was proud of herself at
her show of restraint, especially since Jeffrey had wanted to go to Denny�s and
she�d held out for IHOP. But he�d been
kind enough to let her choose, so she was willing to go along with him on some
things. Like making her get into the
booth first.
Instead of sitting
across from her, he sat down next to her in the booth, wanting � no needing � to
be on the outside though. He didn�t
exactly know why, he just had to. Perhaps
it had something to do with being able to make a quick exit if necessary; he
didn�t know. He reached across the table
and pulled out a single menu and laid it down on the table in front of her
before digging in his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter. Without
fucking fail. As soon as I fucking sit
down to eat, I want to fucking smoke. He didn�t really question such things, but he
did wonder about them from time to time.
Salida took the
cigarette from his hand, and set it next to the wall. �Secondhand smoke,� she murmured as she
looked over the menu.
Jeffrey frowned at
her. He had genuinely forgotten about
the children kept safe within her for the first time. It was irony personified that she hadn�t. �Sorry,� he muttered, tapping his fingers on
the table and trying not to think about the cigarette she had taken from him. Now that he couldn�t smoke, he wanted to even more.
Smiling just a
little, Salida reached over and took his hand in hers, squeezing just a
little. �We�oingoing to have to get you nicotine
patches or something.�
�Fuck that. I�ll just fucking smoke outside like I did
this morning.�
�Patches would be
better for you. Less risk of lung
cancer,� she replied absentmindedly.
�Do you really
expect I�ll die of fucking lung cancer?� he asked seriously.
�Soon? No.
Keep up this habit though and you might be looking at cancer in twenty
years. And don�t tell me that�s too far
away to worry about, because it can be prevented now. There�s no guarantee that you�ll be cured
then. If it does happen.� She flipped to another page.
That wasn�t what he
had meant. He meant, did she really
think that it would be lung cancer that got him in the end what with everything
else he had going for him in his life? The
threat of the police, the knowledge that one of his victims might get lucky and
fight back. . . Why worry about cancer
with all of that? But then again, maybe
she was right. �I�ll . . . consider it.�
�That�s good. What are you getting?�
�Blueberry
pancakes,� he muttered absently, looking over the menu. �What are you?�
�I thought you didn�t
like pancakes,� she murmured, still trying to make up her mind.
�I . . . don�t. Huh. That�s
funny. Sands does, but I don�t. I like blueberries though. Maybe I�ll have waffles.� He frowned a little at his first choice,
blaming Sands.
�You can like
pancakes even if he does,� she informed him softly.
�Yeah, I know that.
But I don�t usually like pancakes. I don�t know why I said that.�
�When was the last
time you had pancakes because you
wanted them?�
Jeffrey paused at
that and thought about it. �Never,� he
said at lasp>
p>

�Maybe you
should. And if you don�t like them, you
can share mine. Because I can�t possibly
eat everything I want.�
Jeffrey considered
this. �Alright. Pancakes it is. Blueberry. With lots of syrup.� He gave her a big grin. �This was a good idea. Coming here.�
�I only have good
ideas,� she murmured, forgetting that just earlier that morning she�d claimed
otherwise.
Jeffrey decided it
was easier to just agree with her than disagree and start another fight. �You�re right about that,� he said, the grin
not leaving his face although it was a mite forced now.
�Jeffrey . . . should
I get what I want, or should I just get what I know I can eat?�
�Get whatever you
want, vixen. We can always take home
what you don�t eat.� He still wanted
that fucking cigarette.
�Alright. And stop twitching. You can�t be going through withdrawal
already.�
�I think it�s more
that now that I can�t have one, I
really want one, than withdrawal,� he
muttered.
�Find a substitute,�
she murmured, closing her menu and resting her head against his shoulder.
�A substitute, she
says,� Jeffrey murmured to himself, searching the table for something that
would fit the bill. He shrugged,
unwrapped the toothpick he had grabbed, stuck it in his mouth, and immediately
begin playing with it with his tongue. �I
guess this�ll do,� he muttered with a near pout.
She smiled, pulled
the toothpick from his mouth, gave him a quick peck on the lips, then handed
the toothpick back.
�What was that for?�
he asked around the replaced toothpick. �Not that I minded. Feel free to do that any time you like. I was just wondering.�
�I don�t know. I suppose that you were just too cute to
resist.� She was going to say more, but
their waitress interrupted them.
After the waitress
had done her little spiel and Jeffrey�s pancakes were ordered, he gestured to
Salida and let her complete her order.
�Umm . . . chocolate
chip Belgian waffles, two eggs sunny-side up, a side of bacon, a side of
sausage links, a bowl of strawberries, a bowl of peaches, and a glass of milk.�
Salida flushed at her order and tried
to hide behind Jeffrey, but she didn�t try to take any of it back.
Jeffrey grinned at
the waitress. �And a glass of orange
juice. That�s it.� The waitress floundered a little, but the look
on Jeffrey�s face sent her scurrying off to get their order.
�I�m such a pig,�
she murmured into his shoulder. �There�s
no way I can eat all that.�
�No you�re not. And like I said, what you don�t eat we can
take home. It�s no big deal, vixen.�
�I still feel like
a cow. I�m not going to be able to move.�
�Then that�s why I�m
here. I wouldn�t let you languish stuck
in the IHOP unable to move, vixen. Such
a thing would be . . . ungentlemanly,� he said with a smirk.

�I chose the house
we�re living in now, and you came too, so you followed me home.� She used the same tone of voice one would use
to explain things to a slow six year old.
�Yeah, well, you
followed me across the country. Twice.�
lasslass=MsoNormal> �Once,� she said,
sure he was wrong.
�Twice. You followed me to Vegas, and back to DC. That�s twice, vixen.�
�DC doesn�t count.�
Jeffrey shrugged. �Fine. But that�s still once yo don done it, vixen.�
�That one doesn�t
count either. I didn�t know you were in
Las Vegas.�
�It�s where we were
supposed to fucking meet, vixen. I don�t
buy that.�
�You never said you
would. I just left a note saying that I�d
like to go to Las Vegas with
you. Not that I expected you to be
there, much less there waiting for me.
And were you there waiting for me?�
�Not exactly. I thought you were fucking dead at the time. It�s a little hard to wait for a dead woman to
show up.�
�There. So was it simply coincidence that you were
there? Or where you trying to be
faithful to some grand, romantic oath we made, even in death?�
�I was just trying
to exist without you. It wasn�t going
well. Even then. But yeah, I like to think that I was being
faithful to you. Sounds more fucking
romantic that way,� he said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood after such
dreary comments.
�That�s sweet.� She kissed his cheek. �So, did you have to convince Sands to go, or
did he think it was just a good place to lay low?�
�I don�t remember. I was too busy killing large scores of people
at the time,� he muttered under his breath.
�Do you really not
remember, or do you just not want to tell me?�
Salida pressed because she was enjoying just sitting and talking with
him. It was a treat to sit at his side,
to touch him, to listen to him . . .
�Sands chose. He went there . . . to hurt me,� he said
softly, not liking to think about it.
�Shows what he
knows,� Salida smirked. �I think that�s
one plan that backfired.�
�Yeah. It did at that,� Jeffraid aid with a small
smile.
�Would you still
have gone there if Sands hadn�t forced you?�
Jeffrey thought
about that. �Probably. But not right away. I think I would have ended up there
eventually.�
�That�s good.� Salida watched with wide eyes as their
waitress returned. She had another
person with her just to carry all the food. s'>
�Oink, oink,� she murmured while the table started to fill with her
plates, and Jeffrey�s single order.
clasclass=MsoNormal> Jeffrey rolled his
eyes at her comment, nodded in thanks to the waitress and her assistant, and
dug into his meal. The pancakes were
surprisingly good. He�d have to get them
again sometime. He looked over to see
Salida hesitating over her meal and commented, �Just eat, vixen. Don�t worry about the rest.�
�Fine.� With that, she started in on her meal and
managed to eat at least half of everything before she had to admit defeat.

****************************** ***
******************************

�Why am I fucking doing this again? Oh yeah, cats and people need to eat,� Jeffrey
muttered under his breath as he anlidalida wandered through the large grocery
store. He had already gotten a near cart
full of food items and was now making his way to the pharmacy to get kitty�s
fucking drugs.
They turned in the prescriptions,
then went to stand in line to pay for their stuff. All the lines were long and moving slowly,
and Salida, already tired of being on her feet, wrapped her arms around her
husband�s waist and leaned against his back.
�This has been nice,� she murmured, rubbing her cheek against the soft
silk of his shirt.
�It�s been nice
having time with you, but there are other things I�d rather be doing that
standing in a fucking line at the grocery store. I�ve got plans.�
I�m not
going to wear it in private.�
�Good. I don�t want you to,� he said moving closer to
her and placing a tentative hand on her cheek. �You�re beautiful, Aida. You always will be, and nothing you say or do
will change that for me. And that�s the
fucking truth too.�
�God, I love you,�
she whispered, burying her face in his chest.
Sands wrapped his
arms around her and held her close, kissing the top of her head both in a
loving gesture and to show her that he genuinely wasn�t scared or repulsed by
what he
>
Although, if you wanted to
shout it from the roof, I might find that silly, yet ultimately romantic.�
�I didn�t-I didn�t
mean to shout, spitfire. It�s just . . .
a little loud in here right now.� He
gave her a small smile as he tapped a few fingers on his temple. �And if you want me to declare my love for you
from the rooftops, I will. It could be
fun.�
�Com�ere,� she
whispered, pulling his head down to her.
Feeling a bit foolish, she whispered into his ear, �Now see here � I prefer
it if the only voice my husband hears is mine.
If any of you in there has a problem with that, you can come out and
take it up with me. Until then, shut the
hell up.�
�Alright. Just don�t yell at me again,� a voi voice
squeaked past Sands� lips.
�Very funny, Sands.� Aida rolled her eyes.
�Who�s Sands?� the small voice asked again,
pulling away from her and glancing around the room nervously. �Where am I?�
�Stop it,
Sands. The first time it was only a
little funny. This isn�t.�
�Why do you keep
calling me Sands? That�s not my name . .
. but you can call me that if you want,� the voice reassured her quickly, not
wanting to make her mad.
Not good, her instincts whispered. She wanted to believe this was her pck
ck
for tickling him, but it was difficult.
Swallowing hard,
she asked, �What�s your name then?�
�Sheldon, ma�am,�
he said slowly, pulling his chin up in an attempt to be polite if not brave.
Maybe it is a joke. �Ha-ha.
You hate that name.�
�If you say so, ma�am,�
Sheldon allowed without argument.
�Stop calling me
that,� she said, backing away.
�I�m sorry, I don�t
know what else to call you,� Sheldon whispered in a soft voice, worried that he
had angered her. �I didn�t mean to
offend, ma-miss.�
�Stop it, Sands. You�re scaring me.�
�She�s not here, is she? You�ll tell her, won�t you? You�ll tell her that I didn�t offend? Please, miss. I don�t want to anger her. She taught me to be polite, and I�m trying.�
Aida thought she
was beginning to ustanstand what was going on.
�Sheldon, how old are you?�
�Seven, miss,�
Sheldon answered after a moment�s hesitation.
�Seven?� Talk
about your inner child, she thought dazedly. �What do you like to do, Sheldon?� Aida sat down on the floor. If this was who her husband had been, then
she wanted to know him too.
Sheldon looked a
little nervous but sat down across from her. �What do you mean, miss?�
�What do you do for
fun? Do you have a favorite book? Do you like any sports?�
�I . . . read,
miss. And I help Mother in the garden. I�ve never liked sports. I don�t have a favorite book, miss. s'> I like them all. The ones Father lets me read, anyway.�
�There�s ones he
won�t let you read?� Oh, my Sheldon . . .
�Yes, miss. He wants me to learn. He gives me books that will teach.�
�What would you like to read? If you could read anything you wanted.�
Sheldon fidgeted,
looking over his shoulder. �Not supposed
to. I�m supposed to read what Father
wants.�
�But if you didn�t
have to worry. If no one would find
out. Then what would you read?�
�I . . . like
plays, miss. Shakespeare. Father sometimes lets me read those. I like the swords.�
�I like Shakespeare
too. My favorite is A Midsummer Night�s
Dream. There aren�t a lot of swords
is that, though, is there?�
�No, miss. But it is a good play. I like Hamlet. And Titus Andronicus.�
�I never read Titus
Andronicus,� she said. �What�s that
about?�
�Revenge, miss. And madness. It�s about a general who captures a woman and
kills her sons. She has the emperor of
Rome fall in love with and marry her, never forgetting about what Titus did to
her. He�s the general, miss. She does
many horrible things to Titus� family, miss, before Titus finally goes mad. It�s a tragedy, miss. Everyone dies in the end.�
�And why do you
like it?� she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
�Titus doesn�t give
up. He wins in the end. He kills the empress and her sons, and even
thperoperor. He�s killed himself, but he
still won.�
�And you admire
that?�
�Yes, miss,�
Sheldon said with an open, honest face.
�But he was a bad
man in the beginning.�
�He wasn�t bad,
miss. He sacrificed the empresses�
eldest son to the gods for thanks in his victory over her people. He did what he thought was right.�
�But don�t you
thinkt hut hurt her?�
�No, miss. She was strong. I admire her too. She did what had to be done.�
Aida wasn�t going
to touch that one. �Why do you keep
calling me miss?�
�Because you didn�t
want me to call you ma�am.�
�Aida. My name is Aida.�
�My name is
Sheldon, Ms. Aida.�
�You said
that. And you don�t have to call me �Ms.� Just Aida is fine.�
�It�s polite, Ms.
Aida. I don�t know you. I was taught to be polite to people I don�t
know.�
�What do you need
to know about me to stop being polite?�
This was so surreal. Enough so
that Aida had decided just to play along.
Sheldon laughed at
that. �No, Ms. Aida. That�s not that I meant. I meant that I don�t know you well enough to
call you by your first name.�
He didn�t know her
well enough? How did you tell a seven
year old you�re his wife? A seven year
old who�s really twenty-seven. �Well . .
. I�d like to get to know you better, Sheldon.�
�I would like that
too, Ms. Aida. You have a kind voice,�
he whispered abashedly.
�Thank you.� Would understanding this child help her
understand her husband better? Was this
boy always afraid of his parents, and if she could ease his fear, would that
help al'>her Sheldon? �And I think you�re a very special little
boy.�
�Thank you, Ms.
Aida. What . . . would you like to know?�
he asked cautiously.
�Whatever you want
to tell me. I want you to remember that,
okay? I�ll listen to whatever you want
to tell me.�
�Alright, Ms. Aida. I . . . live in a great big house all by
myself with my mother and father and the house staff. I like to go into an empty room and make
echoes. I . . . like mother�s garden. I like father�s books.� His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.
�I�ve read some of the ones he doesn�t
want me to read. Don�t tell.�
�I won�t.� She tried to smile reassuringly. �What books did you read that you weren�t
supposed to?�
�Books from school.
They were fun. Father doesn�t like them because he says they n�t n�t teaching me anything. The library
lady said that not all books are for learning. Is that true, Ms. Aida?�
�That�s true. Some are just for fun. Or to scare yourself. Or to make you think. I have some books if you�d like to look at
them. And none of them are meant for
learning.�
�Will Father know? He isn�t here now. . .� Sheldon paused and looked around. �Where am I, Ms. Aida? This isn�t home.� He didn�t sound worried, merely curious.
�This is my
home. I live here with my husband. But he�s-he�s not around at the moment.� She took a deep breath. �Do you have other friends that your parents
don�t know about?�
�No, Ms. Aida. The other children at school don�t talk to me
much. I don�t think they like me. But I�ve got imaginary friends. They talk to me all the time.� His face brightened as he spoke of these
friends.
That�s what Sands said. �What do you talk to them about? Can you tell me?�
He seemed to weigh
her trustworthiness for a few long minutes. �I talk to them about everything, Ms. Aida. Sometimes even,� he smiled wide as if he had a
great secret, �they talk back. Or, I
imagine they do, anyway. They�re
special. Do you have friends like that,
Ms. Aida?�
�I don�t really get
out much anymore,� she said softly. �But
when I was your age, I had four brothers, and a sister. And we all lived in a three bedroom house
that only had one bathroom, so it was very crowded.�
�I sometimes wish I
had a brother or sister. I�d have
someone to play with,� Sheldon said with a small smile. �Maybe I will someday.�
�Maybe. . .� she
agree softly.
�That would be fun.
I wouldn�t even pick on them. I promise,� he insisted, giving her an
innocent look.
�What would you do
with them?�
Sheldon shrugged. �Play outside maybe. I�m not allowed to go out on my own, but if I
had a little brother or sister with me I wouldn�t be alone. But that�s not true, Ms. Aida. Sometimes I go outsidepan pan
style='mso-spacerun:yes'> The staff goes with me sometimes.�
�Do you want to go
outside now?�
�No, I don�t want
to go fucking outside. Why are you
asking me that, kitty? And what the fuck
am I doing on the floor?� Jeffrey asked with a confused frown.
�Because you weren�t
you,� she said, turning away and shaking her head.
�Ok, then what was Sands doing on the floor?� Jeffrey asked
with a roll of his eyes.
�Sands wasn�t on
the floor.�
Jeffrey�s brow
furrowed in confusion. �I�m on the floor
now, kitty. That means Sands must have
been on the floor.�
�No it doesn�t.As long as he�s there, I suppose it doesn�t really matter.
�Are you sure? We don�t have to if you don�t want,� he said
slowly.
�I want to be with
you,� she murmured. �I want to be a
couple. I want to spent at least a few
hours being normal.�
�You can be with me
in lots of places, vixen,� Jeffrey said with a small smile. �If you don�t want to go out, that�s fine. I�m flexible and I don�t want to make you do
something you don�t want to.�
�I do. I want to go out. I want to hold your hand as we walk down the
street. I want . . . I want a date.�
�Then that�s what
you�ll get,� Jeffrey said with a smile. �Of course, you�ll have to get dressed first
before that could happen. If it were
just us I�d be more than willing to let you go without a fucking stitch on. But since it�s not, and I don�t want to spend
my time killing off your adoring masses, it�s probably best if you just get
dressed.�
�What should I
wear?� she asked, looking around. �Where
are we going?�
�Wear whatever you
want, vixen. We�re going out to shop for
what you�ll wear this evening anyway, so it doesn�t really matter what you wear
now.�
�Jeffrey. . .� She didn�t need new clothes. Especially ones that wouldn�t fit for long.
�Salida,� he said
with a smile. �You�re not changing this
plan. We�re going shopping.�
�But I don�t need anythesthes.�
�So? Who the fuck cares. It�s not like I�m buying you a fucking new
wardrobe, vixen. I�m buying you a few
things only for tonight. Just accept it.�
�Fine. But nothing too expensive.� She crawled out of bed and pulled on some
clothes.
�What else am I
going to spend money on if not my wife, vixen?� he asked wryly.
�I don�t know. . . Yourself?�
�Not as much fun,
vixen. The only things I spend money on
for myself are clothes and food. Sands
is the big spender, not me, and even he only really spends money on his fucking
cars.�
�Hmm. . .� She handed him her hairbrush and took a seat
next to him on the bed.
Jeffrey smirked at
her action, but didn�t comment as he began to brush out her hair gently. After he took the time to make sure it was
soft and shining, he handed the brush back to her, moved the curtain of her
hair aside, and kissed her neck softly. �All done.�
�I thought you�d
like that,� she murmured, leaning back into his chest.
�I did. Thank you,� he said with a smile, running a
hand though her hair. After a few long
minutes he realized that he was becoming distracted. �Come on, vixen,� he said, kissing her neck
again.
She moaned, but let
him pull her up off the bed.
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More Than Darkness