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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
- 52
- 53
- 54
Salida was also sound asleep. At some point she must have stopped agonizing
over her pet and decided to take a nap.
In the heat of the afternoon, she'd stripped down to her underwear. A light throw was her only covering as she
laid on top of the covers, and that was wrapped and twisted around her so that
most of the length of her legs showed, as well as the straps of her bra. Her head was turned against the pillow and
her hair fanned out across the bed behind her.
Jeffrey took in a
breath at the side of her, immediately turned on by simply looking at her. How
was she able to do that to him? Right now he didn't know, nor did he care.
"Vixen?" he called out, moving to her side.
For a brief moment
she gave him hope when she murmured his name, but then she turned her head away
from him, her sleep apparently undisturbed.
"Looks like
she's not interested, lover boy," Valencia spoke up suddenly, startling
Jeffrey as he had startled Sands. "Aww, I didn't mean to scare you,
hon," Valencia said in a calming voice.
"I don't want
to talk to you right now," Jeffrey muttered after taking a moment to clear
his throat and take another breath before forcing himself to look away from the
sight of his wife lying so inviting on their bed.
"Oh, I see the
problem now. You know, I could help you with that." Jeffrey's own left
hand moved down his thigh and had been about to move in-between his legs when
he pulled it back with a sublime effort.
"What the fuck
do you think you're doing?" he asked, clearly disgusted and more than a
little freaked out by the whole situation.
"I was going
to give you some relief so that you wouldn't go rutting after your bitch wife,
but apparently you want to play hard to get," Valencia pouted.
"Valencia,
don't do this. I neither want nor need your fucking help. I can fucking
masturbate on my own if the mood strikes me, thank you," he said dryly.
Valencia just
pouted some more. "Neither of you want to play," she said sadly
before turning a heated glare towards Salida and growing silent.
Jeffrey sighed in
relief. "Fuck. This is fucking twisted."
The voices must
have disturbed Salida, because she tensed suddenly, then rolled over, her eyes
searching her husband out.
"Jeffrey?" she asked, her face puzzled. "Who were you talking to?"
Jeffrey laughed in
a mixture of irrational hysteria and bitterness as he looked to her.
"Sands it seems sprouted a new personality while you were asleep," he
muttered, taking a step towards her slowly, finding the same problems of
movement that Sands had. Why had he gone for the fucking knife? Sure, it had
seemed like a good idea at the time, but now all the cuts did were to serve as
reminders of what a stupid bastard he was.
"Did they hurt
you or something?" she asked, still puzzled.
"No�" he
said hesitantly. "I was the fucking stupid bastard who did this to
myself," he said with a sigh. "I started a fight and Sands retaliated
by sending Valencia my way," he muttered with a scowl.
"You did this?" she asked slowly
before heaving out an enormous sigh.
"When is either of you going to learn that you just can't take a
knife to yourself when you have a bone to pick?"
"Hopefully
soon," Jeffrey murmured, walking over to stand beside her as she lay on
the bed.
"Well, I give
up trying to teach you that. I
-" She was interrupted by someone
who wasn't her husband.
"You don't
teach him anything. That's my
job," Valencia hissed at her.
"I taught him
to love. I'd like to see you do the
same," Salida said coolly. "By
the way, who the hell are you?"
"Valencia, bitch.
I don't think we've met. Not that I care. I don't know what you see in her,
honey. Even her voice is irritating."
"Valencia,
just shut the fuck up," Jeffrey said wearily.
"My voice is
annoying? At least I sound like a
woman."
Jeffrey snickered
at that but Valencia cut him off. "Well at least I don't look like a fat
cow too pitiful to be slaughtered. Are your eyes supposed to be all red and
puffy like that?" Valencia asked with malicious sweetness.
"Ok, this ends
right now," Jeffrey said forcefully. "I am not going to be in the
middle of this any longer."
"Just be quiet
for a minute, honey. We're talking," Valencia said absently.
"At least I've
got tits. And at least Jeffrey can see
my eyes."
Valencia attempted to
lunge at her, but Jeffrey planted his feet firmly on the ground and all she was
able to do was lean in Salida's direction. "I'm going to claw your fucking
eyes out, bitch!" she screeched. Well, as well as a man could screech
anyway.
Jeffrey had had enough.
He concentrated hard for a moment, nearly losing his footing to Valencia's rage
in the process, but managed to push her out of control. It wasn't something he
had ever tried to do before-he cursed himself for not trying with bastard at
least-and was glad it had worked. "And that, was Valencia," he said
with a sigh. "God I really hate Sands sometimes."
"Hate
Sands? What does he have to do with all
of this?"
"It's his
fucking brain that keeps coming up with all this shit. It was just you and Tess,
wasn't it? How many does Sands have now including me? Four?"
"Yes, but if
Sands didn't have this problem, there wouldn't be a you, and then I'd be very sad indeed."
"I guess so,
but come on. This is getting out of hand, don't you think? First the fucking
kid and now the bitch. What next?" he muttered wearily, taking a seat on
the bed.
"I don't
care. At least I can fight with her
without feeling guilty. It actually felt
pretty good."
"Oh, well I'm
so glad you had fun," he murmured, laying back on the bed beside her. God,
he was still fucking horny as hell but he was also exhausted from arguing with
Valencia as well.
"Well...it's
better than arguing with you, isn't it?"
"It's just as
exhausting but without consequences between us so yeah, I guess so."
"There.
Weren't you the least bit proud of me, through?"
"I'm always
proud of you, Vixen," he said with a smile. "But yeah. Thanks for
telling that bitch where she stands. Maybe she'll just go back to wherever the
hell she came from."
"Perhaps. But if she doesn't, don't be afraid to come
back. Or to bring her to me. I enjoyed that." Indeed, Salida looked very self-satisfied.
"Oh I will,
you can count on that. You know what she fucking offered to do for me? No,
fuck, I don't want to talk about it," he muttered, making a face.
"That's not fucking right."
"I don't care
what she offered to do for you. Whatever
it was, I can do it better."
"I have no
doubt in my mind that that's the case, Vixen," he said with another smile,
yet this one was a little less bright. She could make him quiver with a single
touch and they both knew it. Not that she had been touching him much lately.
And not that he blamed her for that either.
"What did she
want to do?" Salida asked a moment later, curiosity eating away at her.
Jeffrey made a face
but answered her question anyway. "She offered to fucking get me off while
I watched you sleep," he muttered, his frown deepening as he said it.
"I told her I could fucking masturbate well enough on my own if the
situation warranted itself," he said dryly, still disgusted.
"She wouldn't
know what to do with you even if she had you," Salida said scornfully.
"No, she
wouldn't. But you know," he said with a small smile in her direction.
"And you always have."
"And I always
will," she promised, rolling onto her side so she could rest her head on
his shoulder. "Always."
"Even when
Sands' other fucking alter egos are running wild?" he murmured, wrapping
an arm around her waist and pulling her in even closer to him without thinking
about it.
"Doesn't
matter," she said, shaking her head.
"I still have you."
"Yeah. You
have me," he said with a weak smile in her direction that turned into a
frown when she wasn't looking. Lately that hadn't exactly been a good thing.

"Mmm-hmm..." Salida murmured, running her nose along the
tendons of his neck. "Remind her of
that the next time she drops by. Or
better yet, let me. God, you smell good."
"That's
good," he murmured, trying not to react to her touch too strongly. With
how keyed up his arousal was right now, just her leaning into him made him
twitch.
"I'd say
so." Sliding one hand into his
hair, Salida tilted his head away from her so she could nibble on his neck.
Jeffrey's eyes
fluttered shut at the contact and he whispered in a breathy voice, "What
are you doing, Vixen?" If she was just toying with him and was about to
stop again he was going to get up and leave. Right now. Fuck. No he wasn't. He
wasn't going anywhere. He was staying right here under his wife's attentions.
Salida stopped
momentarily and thought about that.
"I'm kissing you?"
While she waited for his response, her thumb stroked soothingly over his
temple.
"Not�that I'm complaining,
but why are you kissing me, Vixen?" he murmured, feeling all thoughts and
worries of the outside world drift away under her touch. "Never mind. I
don't care. Just keep kissing�"
"I'm sick of
this," she scowled.
"Sick of what,
Vixen?" he asked with a worried frown, opening his eyes to look at her,
tension beginning to fill his form once more.
"Of not being
like this."
"Oh,"
Jeffrey said with a sigh. "It's not your fault, Vixen. It's mine."
"We're not
talking about blame," she commanded, pulling on his hair hard enough to
cause a little pain. "Not
now."
He blinked at her
use of force against me and nodded as best he could as she still had a firm
grasp of his hair. "I love you, Salida."
"And you like
it when I do this, don't you?" she asked, shaking his head gently.
"I think I'd
like pretty much anything you did to me now, Vixen," he murmured.
"But yeah, I do like that."
"And why is
that?"
"Why is what?
What do I like it or why would I like everything?"
"What is it about
me that makes you like it when I hurt you?"
"I think you
should be asking what is it about me
that makes me like it when you hurt me," he returned.
"No, I like
hearing you talk about me."
"Oh. Ok.
Uh�" he thought about it. "For as much as I love to be in control, I
like strong women. I like it when you push me around a bit sometimes. Call me
masochistic, but I do. And god I love the rush of feeling you hurt me and love
me at the same time. The pleasure and pain combine until I can't tell up from
down anymore and I never want it to end.
You give that all to me."

"Hmm." Salida thought
about that, then let him go. "I
don't want to be rough this time."
"Then you
don't have to. I don't need the pain to enjoy myself, Vixen. I love being close
and passionate and gentle with you too. I love giving myself time to touch and
kiss every part of you that I can while you do the same to me."
"I want
that," Salida whispered. "I
want you to do that to me."
"Then that's
what I'll do," he murmured, moving to nuzzle her neck as she had to him
earlier. He then turned his attentions toward kissing a line down her jaw and
neck.
"I've missed
you," Salida whispered, moving to recline on the bed once more. "I've missed us."
"I have
too," he murmured, moving with her. He then moved himself so that he was
propped up on his elbows above her, dutifully ignoring the pain the maneuver
caused-and moved his kisses to her lips.
Salida immediately
reacted, holding his head between her palms as she arched up into his
kiss. Her mouth opened and eagerly
accepted him. This was so familiar, so
needed for wounds she barely wanted to acknowledge. At least in times like this, she knew exactly
where she stood with him, knew exactly what kind of power she had.
Jeffrey kissed her without hesitation or
second thoughts, deepening the kiss until it became unclear where her mouth
ended and his begun; just the way he liked it. He couldn't help but move his
hardened arousal against her however, and while he did his best not to tense,
he didn't quite manage it.
When she felt him
hard and heavy against her thigh, all she could do was purr in delight and
lust. The kiss grew a bit more frantic,
but otherwise she didn't do anything to assuage either of their needs.
Jeffrey moaned a
little as the kiss kicked into overdrive and pulled away slightly to nip at her
lip lightly before moving into deepen the kiss again. His left hand had somehow
made it up her side and on to her right breast without him being aware of it, but
now that he was, he deftly found her nipple through her bra and began to roll
it between his fingers.
She gasped, her
back arching her up off the bed.
Her arch
effectively pressed her body against him and he let out a ragged gasp of his
own as she rubbed against him like a giant cat. He took a moment to collect
himself, decided to fuck it and through caution and lust to the wind, and moved
to attack her exposed throat while continuing his hand's ministrations.

"Clothes," she gasped raggedly, ineffectively pulling at his
shirt.
He managed a nod-or
at least something similar-and rolled himself over on his side just far enough
away from her that he could set to work on his buttons. He managed to get his
shirt off without too much added pain and trouble, and moved to his belt before
Salida's hands stopped him.
"I want
to," she murmured, her voice hoarse.
Quickly her fingers got to work.
They were a little rough, but they got the job done, and Jeffrey was
soon able to push his pants down.
Jeffrey wasted no
time in removing her underwear and leaving her bare before him. It was then
that he stopped though, moving backwards on the bed so that he was lounging a
little in front of her, clearing looking her over thoroughly from the top of
her head to the tips of her toes. "Exquisite," he breathed.
"How
exquisite?" She slowly stretched,
leaving her hands above her head..
His eyes turned
from admiring to desiring at her movement, but still he answered.
"Priceless. Beyond measure. Your hair is a silken wave of the darkest
night that I want to lose myself in, your skin is smooth as silk - better than
- your body is curved in all the right places as if made to fit to my hand, but
your eyes�god, I lose myself in your eyes every single time," he murmured,
looking at her as he spoke.
"Want a closer
look?" she offered even as her eyes went dark with passion. There was nothing to compare with the sound
of his voice; it was dark, rough, and promising. It made her imagine long, sweaty, sleepless
nights and stolen kisses. It made her
heart race and her entire body throb.
She'd never get tired of hearing it.
"I'm afraid
that if I do I won't be able to think straight any longer�" he murmured
absently as he did just what he said he shouldn't do; moving over to her body
again so that they faced each other, their noses about an inch apart.
"You're beautiful. Stunning. Enticing. Tempting. And your lips," his
eyes dropped down to her mouth and he leaned even closer still. "Full and
practically begging to be kissed. And your neck�a graceful column that I just
want to bury my face in." He was now faced with a dilemma: lips or neck?
She solved this for him decisively by moving into the kiss.
This kiss wasn't
the consuming one they'd shared before.
This was a slow, gentle, and loving exploration of lip on lip. Teeth nibbling, tongue tracing, mouth
sucking... Salida ever so gently teased
and enticed, her eyes slipping shut as she funneled all her concentration into
the kiss.
What little control
he had been managing to hold on to tightly throughout all this was put to the
test as she kissed him. He kissed her back with the same amount of gentleness,
exploring her mouth in much the same way she was his, every part of the kiss
the epitome of controlled passion. The rest of him however, was another story
all together. His hands moved over her bare body without rhyme or reason,
stopping to fondle a breast here, pulling her close there, and he was quickly
moving closer and closer to her; the need to be one with her was overwhelming.
While she kissed him with concentration, he kissed back with desperation,
needing her touch, her love, her body, her everything
so badly that he could hardly talk. "Please, Vixen," he moaned
through the kiss as best as he could.
"What?" she sighed, pulling back a
little to gaze up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.
"I need you. I
need to touch you. I need to feel you surrounding me; consuming me.
Please," he nearly begged. He wouldn't make the first move without her
consent. What he had done yesterday-while they had agreed to put it past
them-was still a heavy thought in his mind.
"I want that
too," she whispered, realizing what he was waiting for. Catching his eyes and holding them, she
slowly parted her legs, trembling with surprise at the amount of trust and
will-power it took for her to do so.
He saw trust and
respected it as best he could. He could and would go slow for her; let her take
all the time she needed to feel comfortable again. He thrust into her slowly
until he was buried deep inside of her, gasping when he could feel the beating
of her heart all around him, and looked at her.
Salida was still
trembling, but this time it was with desire.
Just barely she managed to nod.
It was the best she could do considering her throat had gone dry and
tight.
"I do love
you, Salida. More than anything," he whispered as he began to move with
her in the slow dance of desire and passion. He watched her as he did it,
keeping his face opening and as full of love and desire as he could make it to
calm her. He knew how hard this must be for her�after what he had done�actually
he couldn't know, but he thought he understood and wanted to do everything he
could for her.
"I trust
you," she whispered back. His slow,
gentle movements were reassuring and arousing at the same time. And as he kept up his patient pace, she
started to relax. "I love
you."
"I love you.
You're safe with me," he whispered. "I won't ever let anything happen
to you again." It wasn't a promise, but it was almost good enough. He
began kissing her as passionately as he could while still being gentle and kept
his body's movements within hers as even as possible, neither speeding up nor
slowing down. It would take longer to reach climax this way, but that didn't
matter. It wasn't the end was important, but the means they got there.
Salida kissed him
back lazily and closed her eyes. With
her eyes closed, she was able to focus completely on what he was doing to her;
the feelings he was stirring, the heat he was creating... "God, you're sexy, lover," she
murmured, tossing her head on her pillow.
"No more so
than you, my sexy and erotic vixen," he murmured, nipping at her bottom
lip in playfulness before he could stop himself.
"No...I'm only
as sexy as you make me."
"And how do I
make you sexy, Vixen?" he murmured, still nibbling on her bottom lip as if
fixated on it.
"I see you,
and I want to be with you. So
I...ohhhh...I want to be with you."
"And what does
that have to do with me making you sexy? I disagree, Vixen mine. I think
you're," he moved against her in such a way that caused them both to gasp
at the contact before looking at her with a slight frown. "I lost my train
of thought. What was I saying
again?" he asked in a breathy voice. "Oh yeah. You're sexy."
"If you
insist," she sighed, leisurely rolling her hips.
After he had given
her a sufficient moan for that little maneuver, her spoke, his voice even more
breathless and thick with lust than it previously had been. "Oh, I do. And
if you do that again my sexy Vixen, I won't be able to keep things slow
anymore."
"I think...I
think I'm okay with that." Slowly
and deliberately, Salida rolled her hips again.
"Ohhhh,"
Jeffrey moaned. "God I love you." True to his word, his pace
increased and he began to kiss her with wild abandon as he did so, quickly
becoming lost in her touch.
Almost before she
knew what was happening, Salida felt the first tiny tremblings of her
orgasm. With a gasp, she opened her eyes
wide and stared up at her husband, pushing him back enough so she could watch
his face.
He almost asked her
what was wrong, but when he felt her quivering around him he got the idea
pretty quickly. He met her eyes without a word, and purposefully let the
tattered remnants of his control loose; wanting to be able to meet his climax
with her in a joined chorus of lust and passion. There was nothing quite like
losing yourself in each other's arms at the same instant, holding on with all
your might just to keep the pleasure going. He wanted to feel that with her. He
wanted nothing else. "Vixen," he gasped, feeling that his wish was
beginning to come to fruition, "I�ohhh�love�.you," moaned, doing his
best to keep her gaze when all he wanted to do was to throw his head back and
close his eyes as wave after wave of pleasurable sensation rushed over him.
Salida shivered
once, then moaned low, long, and loudly.
She managed to keep her eyes open until the wash of heat that signaled
the tail-end of her orgasm swept over her, and then she relaxed in her
husband's arms, her eyes finally fluttering shut.
His own orgasm had
been stolen from him with silken fingers, caressing him to heights of pleasure
that he couldn't imagine as he held her tightly, still doing his best to kiss
her even through the series of moans that left his mouth. Once the pleasure had
finally ceded to a contented warmth at the base of his spine, he took her into
his arms and held her their tightly, tucking his chin on her shoulder. "I
love you Vixen. So very much. Thank you for trusting me."
"Always. If I didn't I think I'd go insane or
something." She smiled wryly, her
eyes still closed.
"Well then
it's a good thing you do. I don't want you to go insane," he murmured,
moving a hand up her back to stroke her hair as he held her. "I love
you."
"You'd love me
even if I was insane." Her smile
grew.
"Yes, I would.
I'd love you if you were crazier than a sack of hammers. I'd have fun bouncing
of padded walls for you. I'd find a way for us to fit into the same straight
jacket. I'd be crazy with you." He was both teasing and yet completely
serious as he continued stoking her hair.
"A sack of
hammers?" she asked, giggling a little.
"How is a sack of hammers crazy?"
"It just
is," he murmured with a smile. "Unbelievably so."
"Can you prove
it?"
"Can I prove
what? That a sack of hammers is crazy?"

"Mmm-hmm..."
"I don't know.
I'd need a sack and some hammers first, but yeah, I think it could be done.
That, or you could just take my word for it, Vixen," he teased and kissed
her bare shoulder gently.
"Mmm...I think
you've got nuthin'."
"Oh you do,
huh? Well it doesn't matter. I'd still love you if you were off the wall,
around the bend, escaped from the booby hatch, nutty as a fruitcake crazy. And
then some."
"I thought you
liked your women to be right in the head."
"What gave you
that idea?"
"You did. I think I remember you saying that
once."
"Hmm, well it
doesn't matter. If you were sane or insane I would still love you either
way."
"What do you
mean, 'will?' Don't you mean, do?"
"I don't
consider you insane," he said with a shrug.
"What do you
consider me?"
"Beautiful,
sexy, considerate, passionate, honest, teasing, erotic, intelligent, exquisite,
but not insane."
"You think I'm
considerate?" she asked, truly surprised.
"Really?"
He shrugged.
"Why? Don't you?"
"That's not
the first word that would spring to mind if I had to describe myself, no."
"What would
the first word be then?" he asked curiously.
"Now? Bitchy.
Before all this? Insane."
"I don't think
you're being bitchy," he said with a frown. "And I already told you
that I don't think you're insane. Why did you choose those two?"
"Because I
am. In my mind I'm those more than I'll
ever be considerate."
"Well�cut it
out," he said with a frown. "You're not a bitch, Salida, whatever you
might think. And you're no more insane than the rest of us. Better, in fact. At
least you have reasons for most of the things you do."
"But you have
to admit that I have my periods of bitchiness.
You've been the target of a good number of them."
"I admit
nothing," he said firmly. "You're not a bitch."
"Fine. I'll concede that point. But you can't ignore the fact that at times
I'm a bitch any more than you can deny that at times you're a bastard."
He frowned at that.
"Why are you so intent on getting me to agree that you've been
bitchy?"
"Because I
want you to see me for who I really am.
And who I am is the woman you love who under dire circumstances has the
tendency to be a complete bitch."
"Fine,"
he muttered. "At times, you can be a complete and utter bitch just as I
can be a total bastard. Happy now?"
"I'd be happy
if I knew you believed it."
"I don't want
to believe it," he murmured.
"Why
not?"
"Because I
don't want to think that about you. I love you. I don't think you're a
bitch."
"But can't you
love me even if I have brief moments of bitchiness?"
"Of course I
could."
"Could? You could?
Not that you can, but that you could?"
"I didn't say
I can or I do because that would be admitting that I think you're bitchy. I
don't."

"Jeffrey," Salida pleaded.
"This is like me saying that you've never murdered anyone and
you're not wanted by the police."
He closed his eyes
briefly in defeat. This wasn't worth arguing about. "Fine. You can
be�bitchy sometimes," he said after a long moment of silence.
She knew he still
didn't believe it, but she wasn't going to discuss the matter further. "Why do you think I'm
considerate?" That description
still caused a ripple of surprise to go through her.
"Because you
are," he said simply. "That doesn't mean you can't be stubborn at
times." Why calling her stubborn was acceptable when calling her bitchy
wasn't didn't even fully make sense to him but he didn't dwell on it for too
long.
"When have I
been?"
"Just dealing
with the shit Sands and I put you through like this," he moved his hand
around her back to finger the gauze wrapping his other arm lightly. "And
still loving me and not fighting with me about it afterwards. That's
considerate," he murmured.
"That's
life," she said in confusion.
"Not dealing with it, refusing to deal with it, would just make
matters worse. I'm not sure I'd call
that consideration since it seems in my best interest to do so."
"Fine. Sitting
and listening to me rant and rave about every little thing that goes on during
one day of my twisted life without telling me to suck it up and shut up is
considerate. And don't say that it's your job to do that. It's not."
"But I
understand it all, so it's not exactly a chore."
He groaned a little
in frustration. "Why can't you just accept that you're considerate? You
are. It doesn't matter whether you believe it or not. I think you're considerate."
"I think this
is a case of the pot calling the kettle blank," she murmured, turning her
head and pulling back slightly so she could look at him.
"How do you
mean?"
"First you
were the one denying what I call myself, and now I'm denying what you call
me. You ask why I can't accept how you
see me, but you're not willing to accept how I see myself."
He sighed. She had
a point. "You're right. Fine. How do you want me to accept you then?"
"As
myself."
"Then I will. And
all that entails." And he would. If that's what she wanted.
"Alright. And I'll try to have a better self image of
myself. Have we reached an accord?"
"So it would
seem," he said with a small smile as he looked at her.
"Good. Because I'm hungry."
"So am
I," he murmured, leaning in to nibble on her neck. "But I take it you
meant for food. What would you like? And do I have to get dressed to go get
it?"
"I saw
strawberries growing outside."
"And that's
what you want?"
"Yeah. And peanut butter."

"Strawberries�and peanut butter� Alright. I suppose I have to get
dressed if I'm going to go outside though. Wouldn't want to further shock the
fucking neighborhood," he muttered.
"You can stay
inside. I like going outside." She nodded.
"I know you
do. Enjoy your sun," he said with a smile as he let go of her so that she
could get up.
"Oh, I
will." She grinned and climbed into
her robe. Any more than that was
superfluous.
He got up to follow
her, but didn't bother with his robe. It was hot out and he truly didn't feel
like wearing it. If the neighbors decided to look in and be shocked, that was
their own fucking fault. He wasn't going to change to suit them.
"Do you want
me to pick you some?" she asked, gathering a metal bowl that was only
slightly dented. "Ohh...I made a
mess."
"Sure. And
it's not that bad. It's cleaned up now. Relatively," he said, surveying
the kitchen and looking for remnants of her path of destruction. "I think
we're going to need some new dishes though," he said with a slight shrug.
"I think we
should probably do it. I doubt anyone
will let us get away with anything less than that."
He shrugged.
"Alright. I don't think kitty's up to it lately anyway," he added,
leaning against the counter briefly before pulling away as the cold metal of
the edge came into contact with his warm bare skin.
"You're a
complete and utter heathen," Salida said, her gaze sliding along his body.
He grinned.
"You betcha," he answered, completely unremorseful and without a lick
of shame.
"You
know," she said wickedly, "some things aren't as impressive when
-"
He moved across the
room to her before she could finish, intent on showing her just how impressive he could be. "What I do
know is that little robe isn't going to stop me," he murmured, quickly
untying it with his good hand and slipping his arms around her waist under her
robe and pulling her flush against him.
"Stop,"
Salida laughed and ordered, pushing at his chest. "I want food."
"I'm not stopping
you from getting some," he said with a grin, still holding on to her
tightly.
"Yes you
are," she disagree, pushing again.
"No, I'm not.
You have two legs. You can use them. Of course, you'd have to take me out there
with you. A dilemma," he mused with a playfully thoughtful look on his
face.
"The
neighborhood already hates us, but what the hell. Let's shock them into calling the police on
an indecency charge."
"It's our
private property. We have a fence. They can't do that."
"Why do you
think they wouldn't try. Or
exaggerate?"
He sighed.
"Stupid nosy fucking neighbors," he muttered, letting her go.
"You could put
on a pair of shorts and then you could join me," she reminded him, retying
her belt.
"I'd have to go
back upstairs to get some and by then you'd probably be done. I'll just stay in
here and wait for you," he murmured.
"Or I could
wait for you, and then you could come out with me and stare at my ass as I pick
strawberries."
He smirked.
"I'll be right back." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and
dashed upstairs. He returned a minute later clad in a pair of shorts and
nothing else. That was already more than he wanted to be wearing, but being
outside with his wife would be worth it. That, and he could always get
undressed again later. "Let's go."
"And I bet
that bitch thinks I don't know how to talk to you either," Salida smirked,
leading the way outside. "Remember
to look out for bees."
"She doesn't
know anything about me otherwise she wouldn't have tried to put herself ahead
of you," Jeffrey agreed before frowning at her bee comment. He hated bees.
"I'll make
sure to point that out the next time she stops by. I'll also remind her that one of us is
sharing grey matter with you, and one of us isn't."
"Yeah,"
he said with a sigh, following her as she began to look for strawberries.
"Damn Sands for causing this problem," he muttered under his breath.
"I still don't
understand why you're blaming him. I'm
sure that if he could have stopped it, he would have." There they were, hiding under all the
leaves. Salida picked a medium sized
berry and popped it directly into her mouth.
"Who else am I
supposed to blame? He's convenient," he muttered. "And why did he
have to sprout a new one now of all times?" he asked with a frown that had
a trace of worry in it. "What's different? The last time a new one showed
up we had problems."
"This one's
just an extreme bitch. She hasn't proved
homicidal yet."
"It's the yet
that bothers me," he said with a frown.
"Well, if she
does prove homicidal, we'll deal with that when it comes up." Salida dropped a handful of fruit in the
bowl.
"I
guess," he muttered. "God, she's causing me fucking headaches
already. I wish she would just go back to wherever she came from."
"Stop thinking
about her and you won't have any headaches." She turned her back on him and bent over,
looking for more fruit.
"Come over
here and distract me and I won't have to," he called, tilting his head to
appreciate the view she presented him.
"Something
tells me you're as distracted as we can safely get in the wide open," she
retorted.
"Perhaps so,
but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to test my limits."
"Well, then
I'm not willing to test your limits. Let's
leave it at that, shall we?"
He sighed.
"You're no fun," he pouted. "Maybe I could just take care of her
like I did with bastard." He could feel the heat of her glare from where
he stood easily. "Alright, seizures are bad. Bad idea," he amended.
"Very
bad. And before you make the attempt
without my knowledge, let me get tired of fighting with her. I was serious about how I enjoyed fighting
with someone I didn't need to worry about."
He nodded.
"Just know that having her argue with you is exhausting. So�maybe not all
the time, ok? But sure, knock yourself out. Have fun. I don't care."
She sighed. "Alright. But if she brings the fight to me, I'm not
going to back down."
"Nor would I
expect you too, Vixen. If she's stupid enough to take the fight to you then
she's fair game."
"I love that
term," she sighed happily, coming back to him with double-handfuls of
berries.
"What? Fair
game?" he asked before nabbing a strawberry from atop of a pile and biting
into it.
"Yup. It brings the most...delightful...images to
mind."
"Oh? And what
might those be, Vixen?" he asked after finishing off his strawberry and
dropping the stem into the yard and licking his fingers clean of the juice.
"Let's just
say that I wish very much that Valencia had her own body, because I'd love to
see what I could do to an interloper."
He sighed. "So
would I," he murmured, remembering what she had done to the three men in
the alley. God, even thinking about it now still sent a rush of blood between
his legs.
"Maybe I'll
look into a voodoo doll or something," she murmured, not noticing her
husband's response to her words.
"Or
something," he said, moving in close to her again. "Are you
finished?" he asked, in a voice that had more than a hint of thick arousal
in it.
"No. I've decided I want strawberry
smoothies. And in the spirit of
good-will and consideration, I've decided to pick enough so that Grant can have
one if she wants."
Jeffrey sighed.
"Can you be considerate to kitty later and considerate to your husband
instead?" he asked with a hopeful look. "Never mind," he said a
second later.
"What do you
mean?" Salida asked, straightening.
"Don't worry
about it. It's nothing," he assured her with a small smile. "Pick
your strawberries."
She looked at him
strangely for a moment, then shrugged and got back to work.
He sighed again
when she wasn't looking to call him on it and unconsciously began to pace back
and forth across the grass slowly as he watched her.
"You can help
me find strawberries," Salida offered, looking at him upside down.
He sighed a little,
stopped pacing, and nodded. "Alright. I'll help. How many do you
want?"
"A lot."
"A lot, huh?
Alright." He walked over beside her and started searching for
strawberries, glad to have something to take his mind off of her for a little
while at least since she didn't seem to be interested at the moment.
"Isn't it a
nice day?"
"What?"
he looked up at her, not really having heard. "Oh. Yeah, I suppose,"
he said after what she had said made it's way into his brain.

"Jeffrey?"
"Salida?"
he responded, looking over at her and halting his strawberry picking for the
moment.
"Never
mind," she murmured, looking back to her particular patch.
"No, what? You
wanted to ask me something. What is it? I'm listening."
"You...you
don't really want to be out here, do you?"
He hesitated.
"It's not that I don't want to be with you, but I'd rather be inside with
you than out here I guess," he said softly. "But I want you to enjoy
yourself."
"But even
inside..."
"But even
inside, what, Vixen?"
"I think that
was it for today."
He nodded slowly.
He wasn't really surprised, but he had still been hoping. "That's alright.
It was enough. More than enough. Thank you."
"I should be
thanking you," she said softly.
"What? Why?
What did I do?"
"You're being
very understanding."
"It's not up
to me," he said simply.
"But you don't
have to be understanding. And you
are."
"Yes, I
do," he argued softly.
"No you don't. You've said yourself that patience isn't in
your nature."
"It's not, but
that's not why I have to be understanding," he said slowly. "It's my
fault that we're in this situation." He looked down, not wanting to see
her reaction to that.
"You weren't
the only one in that room. I knew how
far I'd be pushing you when I dared you to make the bet."
"No, don't.
It's not your fault. It was never your fault. It was mine. Only mine. I should
have stopped. I...didn't."
"Once in the
grip of sociopathy it's hard to get free."
He shook his head
at that. "Don't rationalize it. It was my fault. I've dealt with being
like that all of my life. I should have stopped."
"'Should' and
'able to' are very different things. We
both know that, Jeffrey."
"No. I don't know that. I hurt you,"
he said softly.
"And I've
never hurt you? Granted, my weapon of
choice is my tongue, but there's times when I simply can't stop lashing out
even when I know I should."
"Not the same.
You haven't hurt me like�like I did you."
"I tried to
kill you once."
"And I've
tried to do the same. More than once."
"I've
purposefully tried to make you mad at me."
"Nothing
compares, Salida. Nothing. There are some things�some things that cannot be
done. Nor forgiven. I did that to you. I raped you. Me. The man who loves you
more than anything else on this earth did that to you," he muttered, his
voice thick with self loathing as he refused to look up at her.
"You didn't
rape me," she said looking away.
"You were just...a little rough with me."
"Bullshit. I
did it. You told me to stop and I didn't. That's rape. Look at your wrists.
That was more than being a little rough."
"Stop,"
she said, dropping her bowl as she tucked her hands away. "We're never going to talk about this
ever again. Understand?" she asked
softly, turning and walking back to the house.
He closed his eyes
tightly in a sad frown, sitting down on the ground and gathering up the
strawberries she had dropped listlessly. He would follow her. He had no choice.
But he wouldn't talk about it again. He would obey that at least. That was
something he could do and he would.
When she got in the
house, Salida started cleaning some of the mess she'd made for a lack of
anything else do to. Things had been
going so well. They'd been going so well.
And she'd been stupid enough to bring feelings into the matter.
Feelings were nothing more than an inconvenience for them. Perhaps they should stick to fucking and
leave emotions out of it altogether. Then
there'd be no guilt, no regret, no frustration.
He came into the
house and set the now full bowl of strawberries on the countertop a few minutes
later. She had asked him to pick some strawberries before he had gone and
ruined things again and that's what he had done. "I'm sorry, Salida,"
he said softly once he had freed his hands. "I won't talk about it
again."
She shrugged.
He wilted a bit at
that. "Say something. Please. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do this. I want
things to be like they were before." He paused, and slumped a little, a
broken look passing across his face before he schooled his expressions and
simply looked at her. "But they can't, can they?"
"I don't
know," she said honestly. "I
just don't know. I want them to be, but
life goes on. Nothing ever stays as it
used to be."
"I don't want
life to simply go on. I don't want to just gloss over things as if they've
never happened. That never works. I don't mean�what happened. You told me not
to talk about it ever again and I won't. I mean now." He paused, beginning
to doubt himself. "Can we do that? Can we just start the afternoon
over?" He asked the questions as if he already knew and believed the
answer to be no.
"I'd like
to."
"I'd like that
too," he said, bringing up as much of a smile as he could for her.
"Where do you want to start?" Even as he asked, he was still doubtful
that such a thing would work. But then again, he was a pessimist. He didn't
really ever believe anything would work the first time. Not really.
"Make me a
smoothie." Her smile was wicked,
hesitant, and worried all at the same time.
"How am I
supposed to do that?" he asked. "I've never made one before. How do
you make them?" He was trying for normalcy at least.
"Take the stems
off the berries and put them in the blender.
Add ice cubes, two scoops of sherbet, and blend. Oh, and I think I'd like half a peach in
mine."
"Berries. Ice.
Sherbet. Peach. Right�" he repeated. "How many berries do I
add?" he asked, moving the bowl of strawberries to the sink so that he
could wash them off as best as he could with one good hand. How had Sands been
stupid enough to grab for the knife? Didn't he fucking remember how long it had
taken for their fucking hands to heal? And how annoying it was while they were?

"Umm...twelve."
"Ok," he
responded, cleaning twelve of the ripest of the strawberries, divesting them of
their leaves and stems and dropping them into the open blender. He then walked
over to the refrigerator and pulled out a fresh peach from the fruit tray and
washed it off as well before cutting it in half, divesting it of it's pit, and
adding it to the blender as well after cutting it into a few slices. "How
much ice?"
"Oh, I don't
know. A cup?"
He nodded and went
to fill a cup full of ice cubes from the freezer. He added these and the
sherbet and put the lid on top of the blender before turning it on. He wasn't
totally inept when it came to household appliances and cooking. Once the
smoothie was blended to her visual satisfaction, he turned off the blender and
began to search for an unbroken glass. He found one a few minutes later in the
dishwasher and poured her a glass full before handing it to her without another
word.
"Thank you,
lover," Salida murmured taking a sip of her smoothie. "It's good."
He nodded and gave
her a small smile in return for the compliment. "Was there anything else
you wanted?"
Salida shook her
head. "Maybe we should get dressed
and go shopping before anyone asks us to do it."
He sighed a little
at that, but since he now knew she didn't want anymore passionate sex from
him-not that he had truly believed she would in spite of what had happened-he
figured what the hell. "Alright. If that's what you want."
"Using the
five things I managed not to break might get old after awhile," she said
softly.
"Oh, I'm sure
there are more than five�maybe," he murmured, taking a look around. He
sighed and reevaluated his opinion to match hers. "I hate shopping,"
he murmured.
"Perhaps we should
buy lots of stuff and just keep it in storage.
And the next time someone goes on the rampage, we can just pull
replacements out."
He gave her a
quirky little smile at that. "I guess that sounds like a plan. For next
time."
"If it's not
me, it might be you. Or Sands. Or the bitch."
He sighed.
"When you're right, you're right. I guess I'll go get dressed then."
"Me too. Can't exactly go out in a robe."
"You could
try. I wouldn't let anyone touch you," he promised. "Of course, I'd
have to kill anyone who tried, so maybe it's just easier to have you get
dressed."
"I wouldn't be
comfortable. I'm not the exhibitionist
that you are."
"And that, is
a shame," he murmured. "Oh well. We can't all be perfect," he
teased gently as they walked through the kitchen and up the stairs.
"You're living
proof of that," she teased back.
"Being utterly
perfect all the time would be boring."
"Being perfect
even some of the time must be boring too," she teased gently, walking to
her drawers.
"Are you so sure about that? How about
perfectively mischievous?" he asked, going to search out a shirt and his
sandals seeing as he was already wearing shorts.
"No...more
like devilishly mischievous. What should
I wear?"
"What do you
have? You've bought new clothing that I haven't seen yet. Wear something new
for me," he asked, pulling out a red short sleeved linen shirt from his
closet. He couldn't quite remember where he had gotten this one. Oh wait, it has blood on the sleeve. He
started to put it back before shrugging and pulling it on. You couldn't really
tell unless you were looking for it anyway.

"Alright," she murmured, rummaging through her clothes. Finally she settled on a red tank top and a
pair of overall shorts. Are these a must-have for maternity wear?
she wondered, fastening the straps. When
she was dressed, she turned around to find a strange look on her husband's
face. "What?"
"What? Oh.
Nothing. You just look�different," he murmured, walking over to her a
little to get a closer look at her. "I don't think I've ever seen you in
overalls before. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen anyone in overalls
before. It makes me want to undo the straps," he murmured, very nearly
reaching out and doing just that.
"Stop
it," she murmured, batting his hands away.
"All pregnant women wear overalls."
"Well, seeing
as you're the first one I've really met," his eyes were still fixed on the
snap and he still wanted to undo it, but he withheld, "I didn't know
that."
"I think it's
a stupid idea," Salida groused.
"It just highlights the belly."
"You can wear
something else if you want," he said with the shrug. But I like the belly, he thought to himself.
"No...they're
comfortable," she reluctantly admitted.
"I can buy you
some other clothes that are just as comfortable when we're out, Vixen," he
offered.
"No...it's
pointless to buy more now when I'll need more in a month. I'll live."
"Does this
mean that I get to unsnap them then?" he asked innocently.
"No. I can't walk with my shorts around my
knees."
"Ok,
fine," he murmured. "Later then. Let's go. We should probably call a
cab though if we're going to be bringing things home."
"We're going
to have to get a minivan," Salida said suddenly.
"What? Are you
kidding me? We'll get one of those big trucks or something. We are not getting a minivan. We're
just�not."
"We're not
fitting three carseats in a truck."
"Not a
truck�one of those truck things�what are they called. Oh. S.U.V's. One of
those. Those are ok I guess."
"I'll have to
learn how to drive," she said glumly.
"It's not as
difficult as you're making it out to be, Vixen. I'll teach you," he
promised, reaching for the phone to dial for a cab.
"You've been
driving for a long time though."
"Not that
long, Vixen. I haven't been around that long. Technically Sands has," he
murmured after hanging up the phone.
"Of course
I'll fucking teach you how to drive. I wasn't going to let Sands do it, Vixen.
I was just saying."
"And I was just
agreeing," she said, faintly hurt.
She didn't know why, but she was.
"When would
you like for me to teach you? Did you want to learn in the Porsche or wait
until we have to get a new car?"
"I'd rather
not learn in the Porsche. I'd feel
terrible if we wrecked it."
"I don't
believe you'd wreck it, Vixen." He paused and thought a moment.
"Although, maybe you wouldn't want to learn on it anyway since it has a
manual transmission. Whichever you like, Salida. If you want to learn how to
drive a sleigh with reindeers I'll try my best to find one for you," he
said with a small smile.
She laughed. "That may be a little difficult without
snow around."
He shrugged as best
as he was able. "I'm sure we'd make do."
"That's
alright. I'm sure reindeer smell."
"More than
likely. And since I don't really know all that much about them or what they
eat, that might making gassing the sleigh up a little difficult," he said
with a smile. He had been about to point out that if they were going for
reindeer they might as well try and find flying ones when a loud horn sounded
from the street. "The cab's here," he muttered, annoyed at the
interruption.
"See? If we had a car bigger than that sporty
little thing, we wouldn't be at the beck and call of some idiot with a
horn."
"I'm not going
to argue that, Vixen. I know we need a bigger car. Just�not a minivan, alright?
I can't stand those things," he muttered, walking to the front door at her
side.
"I'd be the
one driving it," she pointed out as they locked up the house. "So I'm not sure why you're so set
against it."
He made a face.
"I don't know�it's a guy thing," he explained while not explaining
anything at all.
"Most guy
things make no sense whatsoever, you do realize," she pointed out as
Jeffrey opened the door for her to get into the cab.
"It makes
sense to me," he defended.
"Yes, and
you're insane," she said quietly after telling the cabbie where they
wanted to go. Though her words sounded a
little harsh, there was a soft smile on her face.
"Yeah, well so
are you so the thought should translate," he teased back.
"But you're
insane and you're a guy."
"Oh, and
insane girls make so much more sense, I suppose?" he asked dryly.
"Sane women
are naturally more sane than sane guys.
So an insane woman would be more sane than an insane man. Especially if the woman is pregnant because
that is the epitome of womanhood."
"In what world
are pregnant women ever considered sane?"
Salida glared.
Jeffrey raised his
eyebrows at that and went on. "Alright fine, I concede that you may be the
slightest bit more sane than I am based on past experiences."

"Slightest?"
"More than
slightest?"
"Thank
you." Turning a bit, Salida leaned
back into Jeffrey and closed her eyes.
"You're
welcome," he responded, tilting his head a little bit to give her a kiss
on the top of her head before resting his cheek against her hair. "Does it
ever bother you? The bounds of my�insanity?" he asked suddenly after a few
moments of silence had passed.
Conscious of their
audience, Salida responded carefully.
"No...not really. You're not
so much insane if left on your own. It's
your...friend...who's the truly insane one.
I'm not sure how Grant manages with him."
"Why do you
think he's worse?" Jeffrey asked curiously.
"Because no
unexpected guests have ever appeared while you're around. They always drop in when he's theoretically
in charge."
"I never
thought about that," he mused. "I wonder what that means," he
asked himself softly. He grunted a little in satisfaction. "It means I'm
stronger than him," he answered himself. "Knew I fucking was."
He turned his attention back to his wife. "That's not all of it. I mean,
that's not all I wanted to know." He paused and judged their driver
silently, deciding on how much and what to say. "What about the other? The
blood?" He asked, being a vague as he could while trying to get his point
across. This really wasn't the place to talk about such things, but he wanted
to know. He didn't know why, he just did. And as aforementioned, patience was
not one of his virtues.
Salida turned her
face up to look at him; she had no idea what he was talking about.
Jeffrey sighed and
lowered his voice a little. "The fact that I don't travel unarmed, and
know how to and like using what I carry?"

"Oh..." She thought
about that for a moment. "No. That doesn't bother me. Should it?"
"No, it's
just�sometimes it seems like it does. Especially afterwards."
"Well I don't
want it on me. I don't like the way it
feels as it dries."
"Fair enough,
I suppose," he murmured. He wished he could change that almost
desperately, but he was learning to accept that he wasn't going to be able to.
Well, he was trying to accept that at least.
Salida was willing
to leave it at that. One never knew what
people overheard, and really didn't know what they made of it. It was better safe and sorry and she was
enjoying this time of peace too much to have to worry about body disposal right
now.
"Was there
anything else you wanted or needed to buy while we're out, Salida?" he
asked with a slight sigh, acknowledging the change in subject since she had not
spoken on the former again. It's just as
well, he thought to himself. Cab
drivers take too much documentation of their fares to kill so callously. Stupid
fucking cab drivers.
"Umm...we're
almost out of shampoo. And we should
really think about what we're going to do about a nursery. We either need to get rid of the pool table,
add on to the house, or move."
"Getting rid
of the pool table would be the easiest, but�" he closed his eyes briefly
and remembered the number of times they had christened it, and while the first had
certainly been the most memorable, the others hadn't been without their
enjoyment as well. "You're right. We'll work something out."
"Adding on
just seems like a lot of work. And I
don't even want to consider moving. And
getting rid of the table is out of the question. That was a present. Too bad New Orleans
doesn't believe in basements...wait a minute." Salida's mouth turned down in thought. "Have you ever been up in the
attic?"
"Since my
first response to that was going to be, 'we have an attic?' I can safely say
that no, I have not, Vixen," he said wryly.
"Oh...well, if
we air conditioned it, and got carpeting, and paint, and windows...perhaps we
could turn it into a game room."
"That could
work," he allowed. "Well theoretically, at least. I know next to
nothing of building or remolding or whatever you want to call it. But the idea
is sound at least."
"We can call
an expert and find out. I don't think
it'd be that hard."
"Then it
sounds as if we have a plan. �se es mi listo Vixen," he said fondly,
remembering the first time he had called her that.
"Not
clever...just crafty," she demurred although there was a smile on her
face. "And I think this is our
stop."
He looked up to see
the cab was indeed rolling to a stop. Once it had stopped at the curb he got
out and held a hand out to her so that she could step out of the cab. Once she
was on the sidewalk he closed the door behind her and paid the cab driver.
"Lead the way, Vixen," he offered, gesturing in front of them with a hand.
He didn't want to have to search for things himself, so he was hoping she knew
what she wanted.
"Let's get it
over with," she agreed, and they walked into the store together.
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More Than Darkness