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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
- 40
- 41
- 42
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.

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

Aida woke an hour or so later. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she
saw was a pair of dark, confused, anguished eyes.
�Sands?� she asked,
all her concern showing in her voice.
Sands didn�t want
to think. He wanted to continue
concentrating on that same scent that brought such comfort to him, but it was
clear that that wasn�t an option anymore. �I don�t-I don�t know. Maybe. Hard
to say.�
�Oh baby, you�re not feeling well, are you?� She reached out and touched his cheek.
He pulled away with
a suddenness that made her gasp. �Not
right. Or is it? Am I yours? Or someone else�s? Spitfire or kitty or Ms. Aida . . . I don�t
know. All three?� He shook his head slowly. �Can�t separate them. All the same. All connected and yet divided. Where�s the division now?�
Not good, not good, not good. What do
I do? The old bitterness welled up
when she decided Salida would know, but determination filled her as well. This was her husband. She would learn what to do. She would be the one to understand him the
best.
�The man who calls
me kitty is someone I could live without.
The boy who calls me Ms. Aida needs me as a mother. The only person who calls me spitfire is my husband.
Is you, Sands, my love.�
cla class=MsoNormal> �How do you know? How can you be sure? It�s all the same. The lines have been erased; washed away in the
tide. They�re gone and I can�t redraw
them.�
�Tell me how to
help you,� she whispered, once again reaching for him, moving as slowly as she
could. �You know I�ll do it. That I would do anything to help my
husband. To help you.�
�Make them go away.
Make the lines unneeded. I can�t . . . there is no distinction anymore.
Sheldon, Jeffrey, Sands. All me, all the same. Aren�t they?� He didn�t seem to notice her touching him
again, so he technically allowed the contact.
�Yes, they�re all
part of you,� she whispered, unsure of what she was doing. �Each of them is a part of you, but you�re
the one in control. Your voice is the
loudest. You can�t let them drown you
out. Stop fighting if you must, but don�t
let anyone else take control. That�s
yours. Only yours.� She moved a bit closer to him, wanting offer
more than words. Wanting to offer
physical help if necessary. But he
wouldn�t � couldn�t � need her. This had
to be his own fight. His own
struggle. His own victory. Or God forbid, his own loss.
�Help me make them
quiet,� he pleaded with her. �They�re
all so loud. All the time. It�s never really quiet. Little whisperings that I can�t really hear or
understand, but they�re there. They�re
always there. No way to make them quiet.
That�s all I want. Is that so much? I just want quiet.� He let out a little bereft moan before going
on. �For just a little while,� he
bargained. �It doesn�t have to be long,
really.�
�Com�ere,� she
whispered, making him roll into her arms, his back to her front, where she
could hold him tightly. Raising her head
slightly, she whispered fiercely, �I want you all to listen, and to listen
good. If you don�t all shut up at this
very moment, I�m going to go to Salida and talk to her, and we will find some
way to put a muzzle on you all. And it
will be a permanent one. And if you
think I�m bluffing, just try me.� She
waited in tense expectation, remembering the last time she had offered such an
ultimatum, and not sure what would happen this time.
�Don�t believe you,�
Sands moaned. �She wouldn�t help. Getting rid of them would be getting rid of
all. Exce . . . . me. Sands. I�m Sands?�
�You�re Sands. You�re my husband. And Salida would help quiet the voices if she
knew what they were doing to you. If I
loose you, she looses Jeffrey. She won�t
let anything happen to you.�
�Aida. . .� Sands
whispered after a few long minutes of utter silence. �I think . . . I�m ok. Relatively speaking. God, I�m so tired of this,� he sighed wearily.
�I can�t keep doing this, Aida. I can�t keep fighting like this. It�s too much.�
�I�m going to talk
to Salida,� she said, reluctantly releasing him. �I agree that you can�t keep doing this. And I�m not going to let you. I can�t.
You�re suffering too much.�
�I�m alright. It�s just . . . a bad day. I�ll be fine,� he muttered. �And what can sunrise do anyway? She can�t help me.�
�Don�t brush her
off like that. She�s smarter than she
likes to let on. And if she can do
something to help you even the smallest
bit, then I say its worth it.�
�Alright,� he said
with a sigh. He didn�t even bother
arguing the point. If he was being
honest with himself, he needed all the help he could get at the moment.
�I�m going to go
get her. Stay here.� Moving quickly she went to find Salida, and
after a short argument � shorter than she�d been expecting, really � she
returned with the would-be doctor in tow.
�See? He�s not well.� Her voice was quiet and uncertain as if she
wasn�t sure if Sands could hear her, and she didn�t want him to be able to if
he was able to. �He said�he was so
fuzzy. He couldn�t remember who he
was. Sands was the choice he was
favoring, but he wasn�t certain.�
�I�m going to go
get her. Stay here.� Moving quickly she went to find Salida, and
after a short argument � shorter than she�d been expecting, really � she
returned with the would-be doctor in tow.
�See? He�s not well.� Her voice was quiet and uncertain as if she
wasn�t sure if Sands could hear her, and she didn�t want him to be able to if
he was able to. �He said . . . he was so
fuzzy. There was a clear undercurrent of worry in his
voice. He didn�t bother asking why she
hadn�t told him about this sooner; he could imagine the kinds of answers he
would get.
�It�s his tale to
tell,� she said sullenly.
�Yeah, well he�s
not here and you are. What�s happening,
Salida?nds nds asked again.
�He�s starting to
see things,� she said, clearly transmitting her irritation at having to answer.
�What the fuck is
that supposed to mean? What kinds of
things? Delusions? Hallucinations? Little pink elephants? What?� Sands asked irritably.
�Hallucinations.�
�Fuck. When?�
�Last night.�
�How long did it
last? Did he tell you if he�d had
anymore? Oh fuck, this . . . is just
perfect.� He rubbed a hand across his
face wearily. �It�s not enough that I�m
fucking losing it, oh no. Wouldn�t want
anyone to feel left out. This is not
fucking happening.� He was a step away
from rising to his feet and pacing the length of the room, but Aida�s hand on
his thigh offering silent comfort kept him seated.
�Are you going to
let me help you or not?� Salida challenged, tired of the current topic. She didn�t want to expose her husband�s
weaknesses, and she didn�t want to talk about the events of the night
before. Something told her that finding
out there was another murderer in the family would be a bad thing at the
moment.
�I don�t think I
have a fucking choice,� Sands muttered, his shoulders slumping a little in
defeat. It was either get help from her,
or try and keep on as best as he could on his own. While that may have been a much preferable
option, he had a vision of himself losing it just enough to not recognize his
own wife in a fit of rage and murder her before he knew any better. That image alone was enough to incline him too
seek h But you do grow out of agreeing
when they disapprove.�
�We were all so
close,� Aida murmured, looking up at the ceiling and starting to count the
tilspanspan style='mso-spacerun:yes'> �I suppose that�s one of the
reasons it hurt so much. Their edict
that I was not to leave was so
totally unexpected. I understand their
reasoning . . . but I needed to act.�
�If you really were
as close as you claim, cherie then you must try and reclaim that closeness. You�ll regret it for the rest of your life if
you don�t,� Maria said softly.
�Maybe you�re
right,� she finally conceded. �I�m not
ready to talk yet . . . but I�ll send a letter.
And if they want, they can call me.�
Less hurt that way if they decide
to wash their hands totally of me.
�I�m sure they
will, cherie. Who could possible resist
you?� Maria�s smile was kind and warm.
Aida groaned
playfully, glad to have that behind her.
�I can think of an ex-lover or five that I wish had been able to.�
�Ah yeah, well we
all have a few of those. Men can be such
imbeciles sometimes,� Maria said with a laugh. �Just look at the one I married,� she teased
good-naturedly.
�Bill? pan>pan>The one who has never complained at all about
the nights you�re working hard as a stage manager when you should be home
asleep with him? Who cooks for you? Who does windows? If you knew what I went through to cajole
Sands into cooking. . .� She rolled her
eyes.
�You made your husband learn how to cook for
you?� Maria laughed delightedly. �But
Bill and I have been married for many years, cherie. He was not always the charming man you see
today. He was an uncultured brute when
we married, I assure you. I took great
fun in getting him to come around. And
he does complain about my comings and goings. He just does it in his own way.� Maria smiled fondly as she spoke about her
husband of almost thirty years.
�Sands is just a
little too cultured. He�d never cooked before he met me.�
�Never? How did he survive?� Maria asked, utterly
appalled. She loved cooking. While she
enjoyed having her husband cook for her, he didn�t come close to matching her
in the kitchen. She loved him all the
more for trying though.
�He ate out a
lot. And other people cooked for
him. He grumbles,� Aida said, smiling
softly at the memory, �but I don�t think he minds too much any more. And it gives us some time alone.�
�Other people
cooked for him. . . Well, I�m glad you�ve shown him the joys of cooking for one�s
self, cherie. Bravo.� Maria smiled, then went over what Aida had
said again. �Do you have a hard time
finding time for just the two of you? Does
this have something to do with your . . . housemate?� Maria asked with a
confused frown.
�Oh god,� Aida
moaned. �Salida . . . I�d honestly
forgotten about her.� Remembering the
story that had been told to the neighbors, Aida related it to Maria. �Salida just happens to be a nurse � good for
me and Sands. She�s married to Sands�
cousin, and apparently she has no other family to go to while he�s gone, so she
stays with us. Which has been as long as
I�ve known Sands. Her husband�s in the
military and is away on a tour of duty. Unfortunately, he got her pregnant
before he left and she�s a mass of bitching hormones. There�s no making peace with her.�
Maria clicked her
tongue in sympathy. �Don�t be so hard on
her though, cherie. I remember what it
was like to be pregnant � hating everything and everyone around you one minute
and then crying over a knocked over table lamp as if someone had killed your
dog the next. It can be both the best
and the worst time to be a woman,� she said with a shrug and a small smile.
�I know, and I try
to remember, but she�s so damn hostile. She goes looking for fights, and makes
everyone miserable when she can�t find one.�
�Maybe you should
think of asking her to get her own place then, cherie. You could still make use of her profession and
look in on her time to time if she�s close. She doesn�t have to be living in the same
house with you and your husband. It
doesn�t sound like she�s causing either of you anything but grief.�
�No . . . Sands . .
. he-he promised that he�d let her stay.
And he�s not one to break promises, even when he regrets them. And I won�t put him in a position that forces
him to choose between me and his integrity.
Besides . . . don�t those wild mood swings calm down at all before the baby�s born?�
�That they do,
cherie,� Maria said with a small smile. �If you�re stuck with this woman in your house
then you might as well make the most of it. Either that, or stay out of her way at all
costs,� she said with a laugh.
�Trust me, I
try. But like I said, sometimes she
hunts people out just to start arguments.�
Maria shrugged. �Some people are just like that,
unfortunately. Just try not to lower
yourself to her level by arguing with her. And you may think this silly of me, but I
sometimes find arguing therapeutic. It�s
nice to let out a little steam every once and awhile as long as things don�t
get out of hand.�
�Easier said than
done. She�s one of those people who know
exactly what to say to make someone instantly furious. But I�ll try.� On the heels of that declaration, a nurse came
over and took out Aida�s IV. She was
sprung.

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

It was night when Sands opened his eyes. Well, it really wasn�t Sands, or Jeffrey, or
Sheldon, or anyone else for that matter, but it didn�t know what to call
itself. It didn�t have a name. Sands had called it �Bastard,� but that was
hardly a name. It cast its eyes about
the darkened room frantically, trying to understand what was happening. During its search, its eyes came to rest on a
sleeping figure next to it, Sands, whomever. Bastard cocked his head slightly as he sat up
in bed and watched her. �Is she the
pregnant one or the dying one? She�s
fucking cute regardless,� it growled in a low voice. It leaned over and sniffed delicately at her
skin, sticking a tongue out to taste her skin. �Doesn�t matter. They�re all the same anyway. Dirty whores.�
Aida sighed, and
shifted slightly in her sleep, but didn�t wake up.
�Look at her. Laying there on display. It�s as if she fucking wants to be taken,�
Bastard hissed to himself. �She must be
the dying one. I�d think the crazy
pret ont one would put up more of akingking fight. This is disappointing.� Bastard grunted in distaste at the woman in
front of him. He began kissing her
savagely, his disgust growing when she responded to him. �Fucking pathetic,� he muttered after pulling
away, wiping a hand across his mouth roughly. �Go ahead and die already. Save yourself the trouble. You�re useless to me anyway.�
His words woke her;
Aida�s eyes fluttered open, and a quizzical look came to her face when she
found him hovering over her. �You all
right?� she murmured, clearly not fully awake.
�I�m fine, bitch. But you�re not. You�re dying, isn�t that right? Poor you. Someone�s doing us all a favor by ridding you
of the earth, I�m sure. I just wish I
had thought of the idea first. But I
must admit, a fucking brain tumor is a pretty elegant way of killing someone,
don�t you think?�
She frowned, and
groggily glared at him. �You�re such an
asshole, Jeffrey. Salida�s
downstairs. I think.� And with that, Aida tu ove over and to all
appearances, went back to sleep.
�You�re a fucking
idiot as well as dying, it seems. I
guess I shouldn�t be surprised. I�m not
Jeffrey, you whore. Jeffrey�s a fucking
pussy. Always complaining about that
bitch wife of his. �Oh, why doesn�t she
want the fucking brats like I do?� Boo-fucking-hoo. They both make me sick.�
Aida didn�t hear
him. She slept soundly, exhausted from
another round of chemical treatments.
�Fuck you. You�re dying anyway, what�s the fucking point
of talking to you?� Bastard spat, thrusting himself off the bed and stalking
out of the bedroom. �Might as well have
a nice fucking chat with the mother while the opportunity presents itself,� he
muttered, descending the stairs to find Salida.
The downstairs
level was dark; the only light that was on was the light above the kitchen
table where Salida was surrounded by pages copied from medial tomes and a few
textbooks she�d purchased. She was still
dressed in her �professional wear�, there was a pair of glasses perched on her
nose, and a highlighter in her hand.
Nearby there was an opened bag of pretzels and a can of V-8. Salida was so deep in s, th, that she didn�t
hear anyone coming down the stairs.
�So you�re the
fucking expectant mother,� Bastard started, leaning against the doorway
casually. �How charming. Tell me, Mom, how did finding out you were
knocked up really affect you? It was fucking something else to see you try
and cut them out of yourself. Pity you
were stopped though. You might have
saved us all the trouble by just bleeding to death. I can see you now, laying in a ever-widening
pool of blood, your fucking pansy of a husband trying anything to save you and
yet failing. That would have been
something to see. Who knows? e I�e I�ll get my chance. How are the little brats now, whore? Are they sucking the life out of you like a
parasite? Three of them, fuck me. Maybe I�ll get lucky and the labor will kill
you. That would be fucking appreciated.�
The first, soft,
hostile words had surprised Salida, but as he�d gone on, she�d realized what
had happened. Somehow, the dose of
sedative she�d given Sands had worked through his system, and had worn off
enough that it wasn�t enough to keep his overactive mind asleep.And that the person who�d woken was a serious
threat.
�Well, with
triplets I believe they do a C-section,� she informed the menace at her
back. Moving slowly, she stood, facing
him and putting the table between them.
�Is that right? Well maybe I�ll have to whisper a few choice
words into the fucking doctor�s ear as he does it. That is, assuming you live long enough to have
the fucking things.� He took a step
toward her. �Do you still want them out
of you like you asked Jeffrey before? He
was too much of a pussy to do it then, but he�s not here now. I am.� One of the knives appeared in his hand as if
by magic, gleaming malevolently in the dim light. �You spread your legs like a slut and took him
in again and again, but now you don�t want to deal with the consequences. �Get them out,� you said. �It wasn�t my choice.� Well fuck you, whore. You should have fucking known better. But I�m not here to judge. I�m here to act. You want them out? I�ll be happy to oblige you. I�m no doctor, so I�ll probably kill you in
the process, but that�s a risk I�m willing to take.� He lunged around the
table, trying to get a hold of her.
Salida grabbed her
purse as she darted backwards. Her hand
found Jeffrey�s gun � she knew he would have wanted her to take it � and she
pulled it out. Without a trace of fear,
hesitation, or uncertainty, she pointed it at the man intent on harming
her. �You�re probably thinking that I
won�t kill you,� she said conversationally, �and you�re probably right. But there's lots of places that I could shoot
you that would leave you alive but unable to hurt me. And I�ll do it. Jeffrey would want me to.�
clasclass=MsoNormal> Bastard grinned
wide. �You�ve got fucking spirit, I�ll
give you that. A fuck sight more than
that corpse upstairs. Maybe I�ll have a
bit of fun with you before I gut you. Or
perhaps while. still attempted to come after her.
Salida backed away
and cocked the gun agaipan pan style='mso-spacerun:yes'> �Don�t. I�ll shoot again if I have to.�
�I�m going to kill
you, you fucking whore. I�m going to
make it last for days. You�ll be begging
me to put you out of your misery by the end,� he hissed, but he sank to his
knees to the floor, light-headed with blood he he hadn�t even attempted to
staunch.
�Not if I have anything
to say about it.� She stared at him
mercilessly, not moving forward to help.
�Fuck you, fuck
you, fuck you,� Bastard repeated over and over, falling back on the floor and
shuddering with pain. �I�ll get you for
this, I fucking swear! Your fucking life
is forfeit,� he said coldly, staring up at her with clear eyes filled with hate
and pain. He then froze, and his entire
body going ridged as he threw his head back and arched up off of the floor, his
mouth screaming in a rictus of agony. �No!
I�m here! You can�t make me go back! Oh god.�
With that final plea, Bastard was shoved back into the dark places of
Sands� mind where he belonged. Sands�
body then grew very still, and he still didn�t bother to see to the gunshot
wound.
Salida approached
slowly, unsure of who was in control now.
There was no movement from him, no sign of life other than the slow rise
and fall of his chest. Satisfied that it
was safe to treat him, Salida stripped off her jacket, picked up the knife the
man had threatened her with, and ripped off one of the sleeves. She ripped it half again, length-wise, and
used it as a tourniquet. Turning his arm
towards the light, she saw the that the flesh wound she�d made was a bit deeper
than she�d intended, but it wasn�t life threatening. For the moment she merely wrapped the rest of
her jacket sleeve around the wound and tied it tight.
Someone moaned at
the harsh treatment, but no one stirred. Sands had a struggling look on his face, as if
he were trying to wake up, but couldn�t quite slip out of the drug�s embrace
yet.
�That�s right. Sleep it off,� Salida joked, although her
heart wasn�t in it. �I can�t move
so
so you�re kind of stuck there. But I
will go get you a blanket.�
Sands didn�t reply
save a soft moan before what looked to be a wince crossed his face.
�You�ll be
fine. Just sit tight.� Getting up, Salida retrieved a blanket from
the living room. �Here we go.� She spread the blanket over him.

****************************** ***
******************************
mal>
Jeffrey moaned something unintelligible, his face scrunching
up in a grimace as he struggled to open eyes that felt like they had fucking
lead weights attached to them. �Fuck,
what am I doing on the fucking floor?� he groaned, still not opening his eyes,
but aware that he was laying on something that was not his bed. He felt like shit. Everything was muddled, and his right shoulder
seemed to be screaming at him. Had he
done something to it? He finally managed
to open his eyes and turned his head in the direction of the pain. �What the fuck?� he mumbled upon seeing the
slightly reddened strip of cloth bound over his bicep. �Hello? Is anyone fucking there? What�s going on?� he called out with as much
force as he could muster at the moment.
Salida woke from
her position on the couch. She scrunched
up her eyes against the mor lig light and looked at the clock. 6:32.
But someone was awake in the kitchen, and she ought to see who it was.
Groaning, she stood
, retrieved both gun and knife, and warily walked to the dining room.
Jeffrey heard
footsteps and wearily sat up a little on his elbows to see who they belonged
to, cursing again as the room spun a little. �Vixen? Is that you?� he called before turning a
little to look at her.
�Jeffrey?� Salida walked faster, but hesitated on the
threshold into the dining room. �How are
you feeling?�
�Like ing ing run
over shit, vixen,� he grumbled. �My
fucking head hurts, I can�t think straight for the life of me, and my shoulder
feels like its on fire.� He paused
before forcing a sadistically cheery smile. �How are you?�
�Well . . . I�gottgotten used to the death threats, so I suppose I�m alright.� Coming into the room, she knelt at his side
and examined his arm.
�Death threats? From who?� Jeffrey asked with a frown, wincing
a little as she prodded at his arm.
�I don�t know. It wasn�t you, Sands, or Sheldon. But as you can see,� she must have prodded
too hard because he cursed and pulled away, �I had to defend myself. Someone wanted to give me an impromptu
abortion.�
Jeffrey froze, not
knowing what to say to that. �I don�t
fucking know who it might have been. Ask
Sands.� He paused. es'> �Are you alright? If you had to fucking shoot whoever the fuck
it was. . . Sands is fucking losing it,
vixen. Something needs to be done,� he
said softy.
�I know. And I thought I had taken enough precautions.
. .� She trailed off when she remembered
that Jeffrey was out of the loop. �Aida
came to me and asked me to help Sands.
He was in a bad way yesterday.
Really bad. I decided to try to
find a way to help him find somntrontrol.
Not to get rid of you,� she hurriedly said, fearing what conclusions he
might come to. �I told Sands flat out
that although it�d be easiest to just make everyone but him �go to sleep� that
I had promised you I wouldn�t. I ��
�What did you do,
Salida?� he interrupted her with even tones.
�I gave him a
sedative,e sae said, ndinnding herself. �It
was enough that he � and you, and Sheldon, and anyone else � shout hat have
woken up. And then I went to the
university library to do some research.
I�m going to have to invent my own drug to do what�s needed; to restore
Sands� control but not impair you at all.�
�But someone did
wake up, vixen. How? And while I have great fucking faith in your
abilities, vixen, are you sure you can do this? Help us I mean.�
�I have to, don�t
I?� she whispered, her eyes meeting his gravely. �What happened last night . . . it�s just
another symptom. I don�t know why he came
after me when Aida was in the same bed with him. . .� She made herself stop. �Anyway, I think I can do something. It�s going to mean more research, and I�ll
have to knock over a pharmacy or something ��
�You�re not going
to knock over a fucking pharmacy. That�s
a good way to get yourself shot, vixen,� Jeffrey said wearily. �We�ve got money, use it. It�s a fuck sight safer than armed robbery.�
�I�d do it at
night,� she mumbled. �There wouldn�t be
anyone there.�
�Yeah, except some
fucking clerk with an itchy trigger finger who doesn�t like working nights. You�re not doing it, vixen.�
�It�d be
faster. Some of the stuff I might need
is really hard to get without a prescription.
I mean, there�s always the black market, but that�s unreliable.�
�I�m not fucking
letting you rob a pharmacy, vixen! Deal
with it!� Jeffrey insisted loudly. He
then seemed to slump a little as if the arguing had sapped most of his energy. �If you have no other fucking choice, then I�ll do it. But not you.�
�Hush,� she told
him. �Just calm down. We�re a long way from any sort of formula no
matter what. Papa and Mama,
I
don�t regret leaving, because it was something I needed to do, but I regret the
way I did it. I nevernt tnt to do
anything that would make you disappointed in me because your pride has always
meant so much to me. Every performance
I�ve done since I�ve left, I�ve wished you were there. In the front row. Watching me.
Smiling because of me. Proud of
me.

I�ve probably made some choices you wouldn�t have been proud of to, but
they haven�t been many, and I�d like to think you could be happy for me
now. Or at least find it in your hearts
to forgive me.

There�s a lot of stuff going on in my life right now that I don�t want
to get intooughough a letter, but I need you.
I�ve always needed you, but I�ve just realized that I also need to make
my peace with you.
I�m
in New Orleans. I�m happy, and I�m
alive, and I have friends who care about me.
One of them insisted I be an adult and make the first offering for
reconciliation. So here I am. Figuratively, of course.
�Go sit down. I�ll make something. What would you like?� Since she still wasn�t sure who she was
talking to � his voice waurreurred and roughened by sleep � she kept the
conversation light and generic.
�Anything,� he
turned and acknowledged her for the first time. Before that, he had just been responding to whoever
was talking to him. �Oh. Sorry. Morning,
spitfire,� he said, taking a seat at the table and propping up his head on his
hands.
Ahh . . . Before she started making his coffee or
fixing waffles � she thought she ought to pamper him since he wasn�t feeling
well � she grabbed a bottle of Aspirin and ran a glass under the faucet. She set medication and water in front of him,
then turned away to make his meal.
While waffles might
have looked complicated, they were relatively easy, and she had two ready for
him within a quarter of an hour, along with some bacon and a glass of orange
juice. Coming back to the table, set set
these in front of him � she�d already gotten silverware, butter, and syrup � and
took the seat next to his.
Sands nodded his
thanks and didn�t hesitate to dig into the meal his wife had made for him. He had taken the aspirin while he�d waited,
and hopefully the pain would go away. Speaking
of. . . �Do you know what happened last
night? Or why I have a bandage on my
shoulder?� he asked after swallowing a mouthful of syrup-dousafflaffles.
�Salida woke me
this morning around seven. She said
something about a bullet wound. I was
too tired to ask questions, or even stay awake.�
�A bullet wound? Someone fucking shot San Sands said
incredulously around a mouthful of bacon. �Why?�
�I don�t know. But she should be home soon, so she can
explain it to you.� Tired, Aida leaned
over until her upper body rested in Sands� lap, and then she closed her eyes.
�What a pair we
make, huh? Both of us falling asleep
where we sit at . . . whatever time it is. Just watch out for dripping syrup as I finish
my breakfast,� he warned with a small smile.
�I�ll change my
shirt,� she murmured, bending her neck a little so she could rub her nose
against his thigh. �I thought you were
supposed to be taking care of me,� she mumbled, teasing him.
�I�m trying,� he
said softly. He knew she was teasing
him, but he couldn�t help but answer seriously all the same.
�I know. I�m not really complaining.� She thought for a moment, then decided to
spring her news about the letter she�d sent later. pan>pan>It would be rude to interrupt his meal.
Sands just nodded
at that and finished the rest of his meal in companionable silence. Once he was finished, he leaned back in his
chair and laid a hand on her chest. �That
was very good and I thank you, but now I�m really
fucking sleepy,� he muttered with a frown. He was tired of sleeping.
�Don�t,� she
murmured, looking up at him. �Sit here
and talk to me for a little bit. It�ll
be hard to fall asleep at the table.�
�What do you want
to talk about, spitfire?� he asked softly, looking down at her as he stroked
her cheek lightly with the fingers of his right hand.
�Well, for one
thing, Maria wants to meet you. I think
she wants us to come over for dinner or something.�
�And do you want me
to meet Maria, spitfire? With . . . everyone
else?�
�Maybe once things
settle down a bit. A wife doike ike to
show off her husband.� Aida smiled
weakly. �But you�re right, now�s not the
right time, and I told her that.�
�You like to show
me off, huh?� Sands commented with a small smile of his own. �How am I to deny such an activity. Bring your friend by whenever you like. I�ll make do,� Sands said with a slight shrug.
�No. I want you at your best. I don�t want to put anyone in danger.� Her eyes found the bandage around his
arm. �I love you.�
�I love you too,
spitfire, but what if this is the best I�m going to get?� he asked softly. He was trying not to be too pessimistic, but
it was hard at the present moment what with all that had been happening lately.
He still hadn�t managed to corner
Jeffrey into talking about what had happened to him and what he was seeing yet
either.
Aida just closed
her eyes and turned her face away, not wanting to think about that. �I sent a letter to my parents today,� she
whispered.
�What? Why? What
did it say?� Sands asked, immediately tensing. Was she saying goodbye to them?
She shrugged. �We�ve been at odds for too long. I don�t like thinking they�re mad at me. I want to make up with them.�
�You�re making your
peace,� Sands said, his voice hollow.
Her eyes snapped
open. �It�s been ten years since I�ve
talked to them,� she corrected. �I miss
them. I�m not doing this just because I�m
sick. What if I want them to know that I�ve
met a man I adore and who loves me? They
don�t even know I�m sick. I don�t want
them to know until later. No until after
they�ve met you.�
Sands sighed. �Alright. So when do I get to meet the family?� he asked
dryly.
�I don�t know. I gave them our phone number. I don�t even know if they�ll call. Perhaps they washed their hands of me long
ago.� The thought was depressing.
�If any of the
stories you told me were even half true, I�m sure they didn�t.� Sands tried to sound as convincing as he could
when faced with the fact that he was lying through his teeth. It wasn�t that Aida�s family wouldn�t call
necessarily, it�s just that given his own experiences concerning all things
having to do with family, he didn�t really believe they would.
p clp class=MsoNormal> �I�m really not
making my peace,� she said suddenly, concerned for him. �Well, I am, but a peace that�s ten years
overdue. Maria and I were talking, and
she was the one who convinced me to mend my fences.�
�Well I�m glad for
you,� he said with a small smile. �You
should at least try, I suppose.�
�You�re tired,� she
murmured, glancing away. �I should make
you go to bed. Or at least leave so you
could talk to Jeffrey.� She moved to get
up.
�Don�t. Not yet. Everything else can wait,� he said softly,
laying a hand on her shoulder to keep her down.
She let him keep
her in his lap. Truthfully, she didn�t
want to move at all. �Are you
comfortable? We could move.� The small of her back was starting to ache.
�Let�s move to the
couch. I don�t want to fucking fall
asleep again, but at least there I�ll be somewhat comfortable if I do,� he
muttered, allowing her to sit up before getting out of his chair to stand next
to her. He gestured for her to go first
and followed her into the living room.
Aida made him sit
down on the couch before she laid down, once again laying in his lap. One of his arms went behind her head and
shoulders to help support them while the other came to rest right under her
breasts. She smiled at him, then sighed
as she closed her eyes. This was so very
nice.
Sands sighed in
contentment and fought to keep his eyes open. He really was tired of sleeping,
but it didn�t look like he had a choice. He was very, very tired. And the warmth and presence of his nex next
to him just relaxed him further. �I loyou,you, Aida,� he whispered down to her. He
could talk to Jeffrey later when Salida got home. He could do everything later. Not now. All he wanted to do now was sleep. . .
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More Than Darkness