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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
- 53
- 54
- 55
�No, I�m not telling you where we�re going so you can
stopping asking, birthday girl,� Sands murmured with a smile, batting at her
hand as best as he could while busy driving as she attempted to remove a piece
of lint from the front of his tux. �This may be your birthday, but I�m the one
who�s in control of it right now, savvy? You�ll find out where we�re going when
we get there.�

Aida bit her lip. "Not even a hint? Even a small one?" Since he wouldn't let
her fuss with his tux, she pushed her hair back over her shoulder instead. It
was really strange feeling her hair when it wasn't connected to her body. She'd
worn wigs before, but never one that had been made out of what had been her own hair.

�Ok fine. A small hint.
While I enjoy dressing up for you, tonight I wouldn�t have had a choice,� he answered
cryptically.

"Gee...thanks..." she sighed, turning her attention
instead to the window. Maybe she'd be able to guess where they were going.

�You�re the one who asked for a small hint, spitfire. I was
only providing what you asked for,� he said with a sly smirk.

"Fine. Then give me a big hint."

�Nope. It�s too late now, I�m afraid. You were only allowed
one hint for the evening. You�ve already used it. Those are the rules.�

"Jerk," she muttered, although she was privately
amused. Just getting out of the house
for the evening was a treat. She was
finally feeling a bit better - although she hoped dancing wasn't on tonight's
agenda - and she was spending time with her husband while he was looking
deliciously gorgeous in a tux. Life was
most definitely good.

�We�re here,� Sands said as they pulled up to the small but
extremely high-end bistro he had made reservations for a few days ago. He
planned to wine and dine her, this was true, but this was also only the first
part of the evening. He allowed the valet to open his door for him and exited
the car, buttoning his jacket as he did so with one hand and handing the keys
to the Porsche over with the other. He then walked
around the car to Aida and offered her his arm. �Shall we?�

Aida's smile was bright as she pulled her wrap a little
tighter around her shoulders and slipped her arm through his. "No matter
what else we do tonight," she said softly as they walked towards the
entrance, "I've already had one of the best birthdays ever."

�I�m glad,� he responded just as softly, moving to give her
a quick kiss on the cheek before they arrived in the restaurant. �Sands for two
at 6:30
on the patio,� he informed the hostess firmly. He gave the young woman in front
of him a look that told her no, he would not be willing to wait.

�Right this way sir, ma�am,� the woman said after the
briefest of hesitations. She led them to a nice table outside in a secluded
patio section that was conspicuously empty for this time of night in a
restaurant as clearly busy as this one was by the looks of things in the other
rooms. �Enjoy your meal. You�re waitress shall be with you shortly.�

Sands held Aida�s seat out for her before moving around the
table to take a seat himself across from her.

"Must not be rush hour yet," Aida commented,
looking around her. "Which is nice, because it gives us a chance to be
alone."

�Yeah�rush hour�� he murmured, having the grace to look just
a tad sheepish at her comment.

"Why are you looking at me like that . . .?" Aida
trailed off as she got an inkling of why he might be looking sheepish. "You
didn't rent the entire patio, did you?"

�Only for a little while,� he reasoned. �We have places to
be later.�

"How much later?" She jumped on this offered hint
as he'd known she would, leaving the topic of his extravagance behind.

�I�ll let you know,� he said with a grin, tapping on his
watch a little as their waitress approached and filled their water glasses and
handed them both menus.

"Do we have long enough for appetizers, or do we . . .
who are they?" A line of men carrying black cases had started to come
through the doors. The cases turned out to be holding musical instruments, and
the men started setting up on the far side of the courtyard. "Sands? What's
going on?"

�Don�t ask me, it�s your birthday,� he answered innocently,
taking a sip of water. �Get an appetizer if you like, but know that we have to
be somewhere by 8. I�ve let the kitchen know ahead of time, so everything we
order will be on a rush.�

She still didn't have much of an appetite, but she did feel
like eating something solid. She might not finish it, but she wanted real food.
Not invalid food. As the musicians tuned in their corner, Aida settled on the
Shrimp Victoria.

�Did you decide on what you wanted?� Sands asked, dutifully
ignoring their waitress for the time being. The waitress didn�t seem to mind,
as she was doing her best not to watch the musicians setting up. �You know
what? I think I�m going to defy the odds tonight. No steak for me. I think I�ll
have�um�hmm� The Buster crabs
b�arnaise,� he murmured to her, but not the waitress. The waitress wouldn�t
have taken his order before Aida�s anyway.

"Yeah. Just an
entree. But it sounds good. I'm getting the shrimp Victoria. Are you going to get a wine?"

He thought a minute. �I had planned on it, but they don�t
sell wine by the glass and I wouldn�t be able to drink a bottle by myself so I
guess I�ll pass this time.�

"I wouldn't mind a glass. A small one," she
amended when he looked at her. She knew how many medications she was still on,
but she didn't want to have to. Not tonight.
Perhaps he wouldn't call her on it.
He looked at her for a moment, knowing almost as well as she
did just how many medications she was taking, but nodded anyway. �Only a small
one. A bottle of�Piesporter
I guess, since you�re only having a single glass.� He closed his menu and
waited for her to order before ordering himself. Once they had finished, their
waitress scurried off and the band began to play.

The stringed quintet played their first quiet note just as
Aida reached across the table and took Sands' hand in hers, a grateful smile on
her face. "A very small glass," she promised. "But it's my
birthday. I want to celebrate."

�I know,� he murmured with a smile, bringing her fingers up
to his lips briefly. �Which is why I didn�t object. Especially now that you
have seniority on me,� he said with a teasing smirk.

"Yeah, but I'm trusting you to reign me in if I start
to chafe too much at this being sick thing. I can be a little too strong-willed
for my own good sometimes."

�I�ll do my very best to out-stubborn you, spitfire,� he
promised seriously, although his eyes had a touch of mischief in them.

"I know you will. At least when it matters." She
smiled serenely. "I trust that you won't hold out every time though."

�Of course not. What fun would that be?� he asked, leaning
back in his chair and frowning a little when the completely unsurprising urge
for a cigarette decided to kick in. One of these days he was going to figure
out what it was about restaurants that made him want to smoke so much. Well, it
was a goal at least. He did his best to ignore it and enjoy his wife�s presence
and the gentle music that was played just well enough to slip by unnoticed
around their conversations and embrace them both without becoming stifling. He
had made a good choice by picking them. He mentally gave himself a pat on the
back and hoped that everything else would go according to plan. With this
thought, he dutifully knocked on the table gently.

"What was that for?" Aida asked, taking a sip of
her ice water. Her throat was still a little dry at times and she desperately
wanted to avoid a sore throat.

�What? Oh, nothing. Just silly superstition. Don�t worry
about it. In fact, you don�t have to worry about anything tonight. Leave that
to me.�

"You're going to spend your night with me worrying? That
doesn't sound like much fun."

�I�ll be fine. I just want everything to go like it�s
supposed to. Not that I think it won�t, it�s just that something could---� he
pulled the reins in on himself after he had noticed that A. he had begun to
ramble nervously, and B. he had taken out his lighter and had been flipping the
lid open and shut again and again as he spoke without even noticing it.

Aida stood, wobbling a little in her heels. "Come slow
dance with me until our food comes," she directed slowly.

He nodded and set the lighter down on the table in front of
him. �But of course, my lady,� he said with a small smile as he stood and took
her into his arms; moving in a circle with her once playfully before slowing to
what she had asked for. �Happy birthday, Aida,� he whispered as they danced.

"Of course it is. I'm with you." With a contented
sigh, she leaned her head forward to rest her temple against his shoulder.

�I�m glad I get to do this with you,� he whispered further,
moving gracefully in time with the music while allowing her to lean against him
at the same time. �This is nice gift, and it�s not even my birthday.�

"You're a good dancer. Not many men are these days
without taking classes."

�I did have classes, Aida. When I was younger. I guess it
all kind of�stuck because I can still remember how to do it now. At least, I
seem to be remembering in any case.�

"You did? Well, I bet you were the best. You're so
graceful."

He shrugged a little at the compliment, but kept dancing.
�It�s not as hard as it looks. Just letting yourself follow the music instead
of some moronic count in your head
is the hardest part. A lot of people who�ve even been taught never
get that.�

"And natural grace helps."

�I suppose�� he murmured, not entirely sure how he felt at
being called graceful. It wasn�t something he had really ever considered
before. �I have natural grace?�

"Yeah. I've seen you walk. You're always very aware of
where you are in space. The only times you're the least bit uncoordinated are
when you're hurt. The rest of the time it's as if you prowl instead of
walk."

�You make me sound like some sort of big cat,� he murmured,
very nearly amused by the whole thing. �I guess I�ve never
noticed. I just�walk.�

"And I have no complaints." Aida fell silent,
moving a bit closer to him.

�I�m glad,� he murmured before letting the gentle sounds of
the music surround them. After a few long peaceful minutes he looked over to
see that their food had arrived in covered dishes so that it wouldn�t get cold
while they danced. He said nothing to Aida of it for now, wanting to remain
like this a while longer yet. He liked having her in his arms. And yes, damn
him for thinking so, but he liked the feeling of her hair beneath his chin
again. With that thought, he sighed a little and let her know that their food
was here.
Aida noticed as they walked back to their table that the
fireflies were out in full force. They
wouldn't be for too much longer. The sight never failed to captivate her,
especially when combined with the soft strains of music and the soft glow of
candle light. "Do you see them?" she asked as Sands helped her back
into her seat.

He looked up as he took a seat himself, holding his wine
glass in hand as he stared up into the rolling twilight. �You�re not going to
try and chase after them, are you?� he teased gently before taking a sip of the
wine. It was palatable.

"Not tonight. I'm not wearing the right footwear."

He laughed a little at that. �Another night then. Maybe I�ll
even help.�

"I'd like to see that," she said, playful and
serious at the same time.

�Well then, maybe you will,� he responded with a small
smile, not quite committing to the idea, but not quite denying it to her
either. He took the tray off of his food and looked at it for a minute before
shrugging and digging in. It certainly smelled alright.

His wife was a bit more dainty when it came to her meal. She
took small bites, sipping her water between each one. The last thing she wanted
to do now was get sick, and she was taking no chances.

�How�s your food?� he asked after taking another drink of
his wine to clear his throat first. His own meal was pretty good he had to
admit, but it was incredibly rich and he kept getting thirsty.

"Good. They didn't go overboard with the cream sauce
and you can really taste the basil. Want a bite?"

He shrugged a little and leaned forward so that he could eat
a bite off of her fork. He could have just taken his own fork and gotten some
for himself, but it was much more fun this way.

Aida just smiled, and reached out to gently brush his cheek.
"I love you," she murmured.

�I love you too, spitfire,� he said with a curious tilt of
his head in the direction of her hand.

She stoked his cheek again, her touch nothing more than
undiluted love. Words escaped her, as did the drive to do anything but sit here
and gaze at his face.

�What? What are you looking at?� he asked, not really minding
the attention, but curious as to the reason all the same.

"You. Just you. You're amazing."
�No, I�m not,� he argued with a gentle shake of his head
against her hand. �At least not the way you mean it.�

"You are in my eyes. Isn't that enough?"

He shrugged a little and leaned back in his chair to finish
off his glass of wine before pouring himself another. He didn�t know how to
answer that.

"I'm not sure that getting sloshed will help you see
things from my point of view," she murmured, watching him.

He sighed. �I�m not getting
sloshed. I�m having another glass of
wine. That�s all.�

"Can't you accept that my love for you affects how I
see you?"

�I guess,� he allowed, swirling the wine in his glass
absently.

Deciding to drop the subject since it so obviously made him
uncomfortable, Aida took another small bite of her dinner.

�No, I understand. I do,� he said slowly. �I guess I just
don�t take compliments very well.� He gave her a look that was bordering on
embarrassed.

"That I have also noticed. It just means that you need
more."

�Not necessarily,� he murmured, silently ordering his now
slightly wandering hands to behave before he started to play with his lighter
again. When he got uncomfortable, he tended to fidget, and the fact that he was
a little jittery from the need for a cigarette wasn�t helping matters either.

"Experience helps people learn how to deal with
uncomfortable situations. I used to get stage fright."

�Really? I find that hard to believe,� he murmured, taking a
few more bites of his dinner interspaced with considerate sips of wine.

"Really. I was fine in front of my family, and plays in
public school never bothered me . . . but you should have seen me in my first
real production. I wasn't even a main character, I was a side character kinda,
but on opening night..." She shook her head in remembrance. "I think
I threw up between every one of my scenes that night."

He shook his head at that. �I don�t believe it. You�re one
of the bravest person�s that I�ve ever known. Something like stage fright seems
so�I don�t know. Common. Boring. Not you.�

"It's true. Of course I think I had also worked myself
into a major case of nerves by thinking that if I didn't do a good job, then
I'd be fired the next morning and never work in show business again."

He shrugged a little at that, still not fully believing it.
�You don�t have to compliment me, Aida. I�ll be fine without them, I promise
you,� he said wryly.

"I know you will." She smiled softly, but inside
she was hurting for him. "But I'm your wife. It's kinda my job."

�Why is your job? I don�t remember that in the contract,� he
said, very nearly sounding amused again.

"It's one of those unwritten riders." She winked
and took another bite of her food.

�Oh yeah? And what are the rest?� he asked after she had
finished chewing.

"Can't tell you. Otherwise I'd be ratting out wives
across the globe."

�I wouldn�t tell anyone. I�m very good at keeping secrets,�
he offered.

"Yes, but if I told you then I would be bad at keeping secrets and the International Sisterhood
of Secretive Wives would come after me and take away my membership card."

�The International
Sisterhood of Secretive Wives?� he repeated incredulously. �Is that kind of
like that He-Man Woman Hater�s Club?� he asked wryly. He had had some experience with pop culture.
Although the Little Rascals couldn�t exactly be called popular anymore.

"Not at all. Calling ourselves that would be a little
self-defeating, don't you think?"

�Very amusing, spitfire,� he said dryly over the rim of his
wine glass. He had pretty much finished his Buster crabs b�arnaise and was watching the time for when they would have
to be going, but he knew without looking that they still had at least an hour
until curtain call.

"Of course I am. That's why you love me," she said
confidently.

�One of the reasons,� he allowed after setting his glass on
the table. He wouldn�t have any more in consideration for her; it wasn�t that
hard of a thing to give up now that he was finished with his meal. A cigarette
on the other hand� He told himself to stop whingeing and suck it up. He didn�t
need one.

"There's more?" She grinned and gave him her
undivided attention.

�Of course there is,� he answered her with a grin of his
own, not going into further detail
than that.

"Explain," she commanded, continuing when he
didn't look convinced, "It's my birthday.
You have to do whatever I say."

�Is that right?� he asked with a wry smile on his face.
�Well far be it from me to argue with something like that. What would you like
to know, spitfire?�

"I want to know all the reasons you love me."

�Hmm�alright, I suppose I can try and do that at least.
Let�s see�� He paused to collect his thoughts. �I love your optimism,� he said
suddenly. �You believe things will work out for the best and you strive to make
it so. I love how you care. I love that you worry over the smallest of things
until you�ve made me worry alongside you. I love your innocent look at the
world around you. You have known some pretty bad fucking things in your life
and yet you haven�t let them embitter you.� He smirked a little. �I love how
you do your best too get me to stop cussing when you know it�s probably a lost
cause.�

"Well...at least a lost cause can never disappoint one,
and that's an outlook you should appreciate," Aida said softly. Her gaze
was fixed firmly in her lap where she was folding her napkin into tiny pleats,
and her cheeks were flushed. She was glad he was telling her all this, but it
was still... I don't even know how to
explain it.

�I suppose,� he murmured offhandedly, staring at her
reddened cheeks. �Why are you blushing, Aida?� he asked curiously. �I didn�t
mean to embarrass you.�

"Compliments are hard for everyone to accept, I guess. And
I love hearing you tell me what it is about me that you love." Aida pried
her eyes up from her lap to meet his. "Thank you."

He reached over and took one of her hands in his with a
little effort since it was currently folded into her lap and brought her
knuckles to his lips gentle. �For you, my beautiful spitfire and wife,
anything. Happy birthday.�

"It has been," she assured him. "Want to
dance some more? Slowly?"

�Sure. If that�s what you want,� he said and rose from her
chair to stand at her side, holding his arm up so that she could use it as
leverage to get out of her seat. �You know, you�re going about this all wrong,�
he murmured with a small smile as he led her back to the open area between
tables where they had danced before. �The gentleman is supposed to ask the lady
to dance. Never the other way
around.�

"Then is there something you want to ask me, my very
handsome gentleman?"

�But of course.� He stood away from her a little and looked
at her seriously, although his eyes were dancing with amusement. �Would you
dance with me?�

"Yes. I'd love to." She held out her hands to him.
"I take it this means I don't get to lead either."

�Of course not,� he said taking her left hand in his right
and holding it up and away from him, and bringing the other to rest on his left
shoulder while he placed his own left hand around her waist. He began to lead
them in a slow waltz in time with the music. �Although if you really wanted to
lead, I suppose we could work something out. I�ve never been one to be ruled by
convention.�

"I don't actually prefer to lead. Too much work. Underneath
it all I'm lazy."

�Who ever said you
have to be busy all the time? I much prefer laziness myself. It�s more fun. But
leading can be fun as well. For instance, I can decide to be mischievous and
lead you into the group of musicians over there. I might even be amused by such
a thing. You never know with me,�
he said with a grin.

"What do you mean 'lead me into them'? Are you trying
to imply that you'd try to embarrass me on my birthday?"

�It seems as if I�ve already done that,� he answered as he
led her into a graceful turn. �So what could a little more hurt?�

"Yes, but before you weren't trying to."

�Alright, you win spitfire. I won�t lead you into the
musicians. I promise,� he said with an overdramatic sigh to let her know that
she had single-handedly spoiled his fun.

"You didn't have a choice. It's my birthday. You can
win on your birthday." She kissed him under the chin. "I
promise."

�I suppose I�ll have to be content with that,� he said with
a smile as they continued to move on the dance floor to the gentle music that
he was hardly aware of any longer even though he kept time with it without
missing a beat. He was only aware of one thing; her. �You look beautiful
tonight, Aida. Did I tell you that?�

"No...not recently at least." She flushed again.

His smile widened. �And that, is both utterly amusing and
adorable at the same time.�

"Stop it," she whined playfully. "Red is not
a good look on me."

�It�s not red. More of a pink than a red. And it looks
wonderful on you.�

"You only say that because you enjoy seeing me
flustered."

�Yeah, I do,� he admitted with another grin. �I still think
it�s adorable though.�

"You would say that," Aida muttered under her
breath.

�Which is why I did,� he answered, not looking ashamed of
himself for that at all. �What can I say to make you do it again?�

"I'm not telling you."

�Oh come on. What if I said please? Would you tell me then?�

"No. Most people do not enjoy being embarrassed, my love. That would include me."

He sighed a little at that before glancing down at his
watch. �We�d better go. We can�t be late or we�ll miss it.�

"Miss what?"

�It,� he responded with a grin, spinning her around on the
small dance floor one last time before releasing her hand to step back from her
a little and give her a deep bow. �It was a pleasure dancing with you, my lady.
We�ll have to do it again soon. But now, we must go.�

"Why? Are we going to turn into pumpkins if we're
late?" Aida was hesitant to leave. It was so nice being in he husband's
arms without any other demands - his or her own - and she didn't want to end
unless it absolutely had to.

�No, but we will miss the start of the show.� He sighed a
little as he realised he had given away more than he had wanted to, and waved
the waitress over to pay for their meal in cash. Once that was taken care of,
he turned back to her. �We can have more time alone like this later tonight. I
promise you, spitfire. But now we must go.�

"Show?" She pried for more information as they
went to the car. "What show?"

�You�re going to have to wait and find out when we get
there, because you�re not getting anything else out of me,� he murmured as he
handed the valet his ticket.

"Please? I won't tell anyone else?" She grinned.

�I know you won�t, because you won�t know what to tell
them,� he responded wryly.

"All I'm asking for is a hint. A big one," she
quickly amended, remembering how he'd answered that the last time.

�Why should I give you a hint?� he asked with a curious tilt
of his head as they waited for the valet to bring the Porsche back.

"Because it's my -"

�Not a good enough reason. I know it�s your birthday. I also
know that this is meant to be a surprise. Therefore, to keep with the
definition of surprise, you can�t know about it. You�re going to have to try
harder than that, spitfire.�

"I shouldn't have to," she muttered. "It's
worked so far."

�Yeah, well it�s not working any longer. I like surprising
you.�

"Bah."

Sands just laughed at that. �Aha, here we go. I was
beginning to think that he got fucking lost with my car,� he muttered as the
valet pulled up to the curb. He got out and handed Sands the keys before
opening the door for Aida, not noticing Sands� scowl as he did so.

Aida climbed in semi-gratefully, and buckled her seatbelt. "Is
this the kind of show at least where I'll get to sit down?"

�Yes. You�ll be sitting down,� he answered her and started
the car after buckling his own seatbelt at her pointed look.

"Oh good. I'll admit that my legs were getting a bit
tired."

�I figured. Sorry,� he murmured as he pulled out into
traffic and headed towards the theater.

"Why are you sorry?"

�I don�t know. Because I should have considered that you
would get tired.�

"But I wanted to dance. With you."

�And I appreciate that. I like dancing with you. I�m still
sorry though.�

"You shouldn't be. It's either be too careful and let
life pass you by, or live it, difficulties and all. And in the grand scheme of
things, mildly sore thighs are a small price to pay for getting to dance with
my husband."

He considered this. �Alright. I accept that. Thank you for
dancing with me.�

"Sands..." Aida sighed, half amused. "I'm the
one that asked you. Twice."

�Then thank you for asking me. I don�t think I�d ever been
asked to dance before. It�s usually the other way around like I said.�

"Well, it's been a long time since I've been with
someone I've wanted to slow dance
with. But hopefully not the last." She
smiled, and reached over to rest her hand just above his knee.

�It won�t be the last. I can promise you that.�

"Good. Maybe for my next birthday you can sign us up
for ballroom dancing lessons."

�Eh, we�ll see about that�� he murmured. �I could always
teach you myself, you know. It would be much more fun that way. Trust me.�

"I don't think the horizontal rumba counts as ballroom
dancing," Aida smirked. "And we both know that's how things would
turn out."

�Well then we�ll just have too keep practicing at it. I
figure we�ll get it right eventually,� he answered with a smirk of his own.

"We don't have a problem getting it right in that department."

�Hmm, that�s true. But just think of how right things could be after all that
practice.�

"If things get any more right we'll be so wiped out that we'll only be trying once a
week."

Sands didn�t like that thought at all. �On second thought,
I�ll consider the ballroom dancing lessons.�

"And think...I might actually learn how to dance. Not dance dance, but dance."

�It�s overrated,� he murmured. �But if that�s what you
really want then we can do it.�

"Someday. Not any time soon. I'm just looking forward
to next week and my last round of chemo. Then I can start planning for my
parent's visit. Or..." she hesitated for a moment, then continued,
"Or were you going to help me do that?"

He fell silent for a minute. �What would that entail?� he asked
carefully.

"Helping me make reservations. I can settle the dates
with my family and all that.
Also..." She swallowed. "Also I think that the two of us
should break the news to Jeffrey and Salida."

�Won�t that be fun,� he muttered dryly. �When do you want to
do that? You�re parents aren�t coming for another week at least, right?� God,
where had the fucking time gone? He wasn�t ready to meet her entire fucking family yet.
"First week of July. That's about two weeks from now. A
little more than that."

�Oh. Ok. So�I guess we can wait a while to tell them�� Two weeks? That�s not enough time. I don�t
want to meet her family! The thought was very nearly irrational, he was curious about meeting her parents
after having spoken with them on the phone, but that thought wasn�t being heard
right now.

"Not too long though," she said softly.
"Otherwise we'll never do it." What she meant was that he'd never do it.

�Fine. But it doesn�t have to be tonight, does it? We don�t
have to worry about it tonight. In fact, you�re not supposed to be worrying
about anything. That�s supposed to be my job, remember?�

"Oh god no, not tonight. Birthdays are supposed to be happy."

�So they say,� he agreed softly. He remained silent for a
few moments longer before suddenly speaking up. �Do you still want a hint about
where we�re going? Alright, I�ll give you one. A big one. We�re here.�

"You're kidding me," Aida whispered, looking up at
the New Orleans opera house. "We're
going in there?"

�Supposedly. That�s what the tickets say anyway,� he said
with a smile as they pulled up to the curb and his car was driven off by yet
another valet after he had managed to thwart the doorman�s efforts and open the
door for Aida himself.

"Take me, I'm yours," she breathed, looking around
the lobby. "I've always wanted to go to the opera."

�Well then, I�m glad I thought to get tickets. Although, I
couldn�t not get them. Especially when I found out which opera they were
performing and that it was on your birthday. It was fate.�

"What opera?" she asked, stopping in the middle of
the hall.

He grinned as if he had just gotten away with a brilliant
scheme. �Aida by Giuseppe Verdi. Of course, it�s in Italian, but you�re lucky
enough to know someone who happens to speak Italian.�

"You're amazing," Aida whispered. Touched by her
husband's creativity and the intention behind his gifts, she stepped close to
him and pulled his head down for a long, sweet kiss. Right in the middle of the hall. With an
attentive audience watching.

When they separated, he gave her a genuine smile and brought
her hand to his lips in thanks for the kiss. �Not as amazing as you are, Aida,�
he whispered after he had kissed her knuckles gently. If he had been aware of
the small crowd of people who were watching their romantic display, he made no
sign of it. He only had eyes for her.

"So...where are we sitting?" Aida asked, once more
resuming her place at his side.

�On the left side of the aisle three rows back. They�re
supposedly the best acoustic seats in the house. The so called acoustic �sweet
spot.� Or so the man I bought the tickets from assured me.� He shrugged. �I
figured you�d rather have the opportunity to appreciate the music rather than
sit up in one of the boxes.�

"And when did you buy the tickets?" She wanted to know how long he'd been
planning this.

He shrugged as they made their way down the aisle to their
seats. �Before I knew that it was going to be your birthday today.�

"That's so sweet."

�I suppose,� he said non-committally as he gestured for her
to go ahead of him in the row. �Take your pick, Aida,� he said, gesturing to
the number of empty red velvet seats in front of her.

"What do you mean? What seats do we have?"

He hesitated for a minute. �Um. All of them.�

Aida just blinked...and then delighted laughter spilled out
of her mouth as she leaned into him.

�Why are you laughing, Aida?� he asked curiously, unable to
keep a smile from his mouth at her reaction even though he didn�t know the
cause.

She kissed him again before answering. "This is just
so...you. So very, very, you."

�Well I take it that since you kissed me, that�s not
necessarily a bad thing in this case.�

"Bad? No, I'm just resigned that you have no idea how
to do things on a small scale." She
grinned to show him that she wasn't trying to make him feel bad.

He glance down to the long empty row of seats that would
have been viciously fought over had he not bought them all with a thoughtful
look. �I suppose you�re right about that. I do seem to do things big or not at
all. Oh well. It�ll be better this way. Like we have the entire house to
ourselves.�

She couldn't help herself; her lips pressed against his jaw
in another quick kiss. "I guess no one will be yelling at you for
translating."

�They could yell at me all they wanted. It wouldn�t have
stopped me,� he murmured, his grin widening as she pulled away from the kiss.

Aida's eyes went wide. "We can't have people yelling. It
distracts everyone on stage. We'd all be
thrown out." This was a matter very near to her heart. She'd once stopped
one of her own performances to ask rowdy patrons to leave.

�I�m not going to start any fights, Aida. I�ll be good.
Promise. I wouldn�t want to ruin your day by doing something stupid like that
so I won�t.�

"Sorry," she murmured, taking his hand and leading
him into the seats. "Just remember that you're married to a former
thespian.�

�How could I ever forget?� he asked taking a moment to
reflect upon a few memorable instances where she had shown him just how good of
an actress she was. A Catholic school girl�s uniform came to mind and he
grinned at the remembrance.

"Well...just don't. And behave yourself." Taking a
seat, Aida started looking over her program. "Harnell...I've heard he's an
excellent director."

�Yes ma�am,� he answered with a grin that was just
mischievous enough to make her cautious. �I wouldn�t know about the director
being a good one though,� he murmured as he looked over his own program. �To
tell you the truth, I don�t know anything about this opera. I just knew we had
to come when I found out the name.�

"I don't know either. It's an opera." Aida
shrugged. "My focus has always been rather narrow."

�Oh? And what was your focus on?� he asked, turning slightly
in his seat to look at her; just now noticing that he had seated her on his
left without realising it. He justified this by the fact that he wanted to sit
on the aisle-it would be easier to exit in a hurry should something go
wrong-but the fact that she was on his left rather than on his right and that
he had put her there irritated him.

"Plays. And finding enough other odd jobs to pay the
bills. Medicare only pays for so much."

�Oh. My focus was on school I guess, before Jeffrey, and
then after, it was on trying to get rid of him.� He refrained from saying that
it was that and staying one step ahead of the law in consideration for her
feelings.

"And you didn't learn about this opera in any of those
fancy classes you took?" she teased.

�Not that I recall,� he said with a wry smirk. �I�m not sure
they offered Opera 101.�
"Then how fancy could your school have been." Aida
stopped, then looked at him suspiciously. "By the way...what college did you go to?"

�A boring expensive one,� he said absently.

"That's not an answer," she said gently.

He sighed. �Cornell,� he mumbled under his breath.

"Cornell? Where's that?"

�Near New York City.�

"Oh. Then you've been to New York?"

�A few times.�

"Did you like it?"

�What? New York?
Yeah, I did. I like big cities.�

"Did you go to Broadway?"

�A few times,� he answered again.

"Tell me about it?" It was a natural question for
her to ask.

�It�s a very busy place, especially at night. There�s always
something going on; some new play that everyone in New
York is trying to see. The houses themselves are much
like this one, only the sets are more elaborate because they don�t have to be
moved once the play is over. The actors are generally better than they are
other places, but this isn�t always the case. I�ll take you there someday,
Aida. You can see it for yourself.�

"I'd like that." She grinned just as the lights in
the auditorium flashed. "Oops...looks like they're about to start."

�Looks like,� he added, as he glanced around to see well
dressed people taking their seats hurriedly with more than a few of them
sending both curious and mildly hostile looks in his direction as they tended
to stand out the row of empty seats among the filled theater. The audience
clapped politely as the maestro walked out onto the stage and took his place in
the orchestra pit. Then a hush fell over the audience as the curtains parted,
and the opera began.

***

The opera had been exceptional. The costumes and set had
been gorgeous. The cast had been so very real and good at emoting that Aida had
almost been able to follow the play without Sands' translations. The music had
been perfectly composed. There had been just one small problem...the title character
had died at the end. True, she'd died with her true love, but she was still
dead. For some reason, that was just a little too close to home for Aida, optimism
and all.

�Are you alright, Aida?� Sands asked, having seen a
curiously sad look pass over her face as they waited for the valet with their
car amongst scores of others.

"She died at the end. I don't know why I expected
differently - all these old plays and operas seem to end the same way - but she
died."

�A lot of operas are tragedies, Aida. And a lot of plays are
too. She didn�t have to die alone though,� he tried to reason with her, not
fully understanding why she was so sad. It wasn�t real.

"No...she didn't." She chose to die with the man she loved. Because she gave into outside
pressure and sentenced him to death.

He frowned a little at her reaction, thinking he understood
why she was acting so sad. �It wasn�t real, Aida. Just a play. An opera. Not
life.�

"Art imitating life," she whispered to herself.

�No. That�s not true. That won�t happen, Aida.�

"You can't promise me that. You don't know the
future."

�He doesn�t need to know the future to know that this is
your last fucking birthday, bitch,� Valencia
hissed as they got into the Porsche. �Bastard was right. You need to be taught
a lesson. You need to leave Sands alone.�

�I don�t want her to leave me alone, Valencia.
I love her and I�m married to her. So leave me the fuck alone,� Sands said with
a scowl as he started the car and began to head towards home without really
thinking about it. He really didn�t want to have to deal with this right now.
Everything had been going so well. He had bargained with Jeffrey for a night
free of him, and he had asked Sheldon for the same, but Valencia
had either not heard his plea, or had refused to agree to his terms, for here
she fucking was to give him headaches. In fact, he could feel one that seemed
to follow her presence coming on now.

�Why do you love someone who makes you weak? And how do you
even know that she loves you back?� Valencia
asked curiously. �You�re going to have to watch her die, Sands. You don�t want
to have to do that. Leave her now. It�ll be better without her. I promise. I�ll
take care of you. She could never
love you like I do. No one could.�

�Just leave me alone, Valencia.
Aida�s not going to die. And she doesn�t make me weak.�

�Yes, she does. You�ve said it yourself.�

�I said that loving her makes me weak. I don�t believe that�s
true anymore. And if I did, how could loving you be any different? Even if I
could love you, I never would or
want to because I�m not a fucking narcissist.�

�It hurts me when you say things like that, Sands,� Valencia
said softly. �I have never done
anything to hurt you. Not like Jeffrey has, and yet you don�t say such things
to him.�

�Oh for fuck�s sake,� Sands moaned desperately. He pulled
over to the side of the road before he could get into an accident and turned
off the car, pressing his head against the steering wheel.

�What? It�s true. You don�t even care about me. You just
want me gone. After everything I�ve done for you. I love you, Sands. And you
treat me like shit. I don�t know why I let you do these things to me.�

�Valencia,
please,� Sands pleaded, pressing himself harder against the wheel of the car as
if he could push her out of his mind by doing so.

��Valencia
please� what? You want me to leave you alone. You want me to go away. That�s
all you ever want. You never want
me around. You never want to even talk to me. You just want to be alone with
your precious wife.� She turned to Aida. �I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,�
she said, her voice breaking.
�He�ll never love me. Not like he
loves you. You�ve stolen him from me. And you�re not here.�

Sands didn�t say anything at that, but he turned away from
Aida to press his hands to the sides of his head. There was just something
about Valencia
that made him feel like he were losing himself whenever she was around. It was
as if she was the one personality too many for him to be able to handle. Maybe
she was. Was there a limit on how crazy one man could go?

Whoa. Wait a fucking
moment. What had Valencia said? He turned to look at Aida, and his eyes widened to see that
she wasn�t there. �What the fuck?�

�You must have forgotten her. See? You don�t care about her
either. You know what? You�re just an asshole.� Valencia
managed to stay angry at Sands long enough for him to turn on the car, pull
into a driveway and turn around to go and get Aida before her resolve crumbled.
�Damn it, I still fucking love you.�

Sands ignored her and pulled up in front of the opera house
and got out to cross the street and look for his wife.

Aida sat against a stone column, still in shock. It was one
thing to watch your husband get into the car and drive off without you. It was
another for him not to stop after a few feet.
However, to watch him drive down the block, turn the corner, and not
reappear with all due haste . . . The
valet had had to usher her away from the curb. She'd been too senseless to even
get out of the road.

She checked her watch. Nearly
half
past eleven. He'd
been gone for ten minutes. Had he even noticed that she wasn't in the car? What the hell had even happened? One moment
they were talking quietly, then he'd left her side to get into the car while
the valet opened the door for her�and then�nothing.

How could he do that?
She had a hard time believing that even if Jeffrey had showed up, that he'd be
so large a bastard as to simply leave her here. No, Jeffrey would know that
there'd be consequences for that sort of thing. But the past week had been so
quiet. The two men had been the only ones to show their faces and Sands had
promised - promised - that he'd
ironed things out so that they could have the night alone. That they could�not that she would.

Damn�the stone was cold. Aida pulled away from it a little
and curled up on herself. It didn't help much since she was sitting on stone as
well; her hips were starting to ache.
And then just to complement her mood, it started to rain in a light
summer drizzle. At least that explained why her skin was feeling so clammy.

Ignoring the looks of passerby, Aida delicately wiped at her
eye. Smeared mascara would simply be going too far.

"Ma'am? Why don't you go sit down inside?" The
helpful valet was hovering again. Aida didn't like people who hovered.
"I'll let you know the moment your escort returns�" She shook her head. She wasn't going to move
an inch until Sands showed up.

Where are you? Why did
you leave me?

Oh god, oh god, oh
god. I left her. How could I have done that? Sands was lucky that no cars
had been coming down the street at that particular moment, for he surely would
have gotten run over as he didn�t even look as he crossed. I got in and I drove away. I didn�t even check to see if she was beside
me. How could I have been so fucking stupid? He berated himself with other
such comments as he walked up to the front of the opera house and stopped in
front of his wife, not able to say a word. He just stood there, his mouth
slightly parted in preparation for speaking, but nothing came out.

Aida looked up at him, then looked away. She...she didn't
know what she was. At any other time she might say she was furious, but...that
didn't even seem adequate. Instead she simply stood, waiting for him to take
her to the car. All she wanted to do was go to bed.

Sands led her to the car silently, not knowing what to say
to her. Valencia
however, had no such problems.

�I really fucking hate you, do you know that? I had a nice
rant going on and you weren�t even here to hear any of it. That really pisses
me off.�

"Shut the fuck up, you whore."

Valencia
gaped, too stunned to say anything else. �I hate you both!� she yelled, leaving
in a huff.

Sands got into the car and closed his door, made sure Aida
was really there this time, buckled his seatbelt, put his hand on the key to
start the car, and then just stopped. �I don�t know what to say. Sorry doesn�t
quite cover it.�

"I'm tired," was her only reply as she looked out
her window.

�Aida please, I�m sorry. I started arguing with Valencia,
and I couldn�t hardly think straight. I didn�t mean to leave you behind.�

"I understand."

�It doesn�t sound like it,� he murmured. �Forget it. You
want to go home? Alright. We�ll go home,� he said softly.

"Thank you."

�Yeah,� he murmured. The rest of the ride home was spent in
silence.

***

Aida stood by as Sands unlocked the front door to the house.
Everything was dark, but she didn't let that stop her. Without saying a word or
hesitating for a moment she went upstairs. She could hear Sands following
behind, but couldn't manage to open her mouth to say anything to him.

Turning on the lights in their room, she obliviously walked
to the bathroom and closed the door behind her, completely missing the present
that Sands had left waiting on the bed.

Sands sighed and took a seat on the bed, looking down at the
present he had managed to wrap for her himself after a few tries. It seemed to
mock him with its brightly coloured paper and bow. He began to wonder why he
had ever gotten it for her in the first place. She probably wouldn�t even like
it. He sighed and seriously considered burning it as he waited for her to come
out of the bathroom. It was crap. It didn�t mean anything. Especially not now.
He had ruined everything. He scowled at it and pushed it off of the foot of the
bed were it landed with a soft thud. He then put his head in his hands and
tried to will the headache that had come with Valencia
away before deciding he probably deserved it and sitting up straight again.
Maybe he should just go and let Jeffrey have a night with Salida. Aida surely
wouldn�t want to see him now.

Aida came out of the bathroom, face clean of make-up and
head bare. She looked pale and tired now.

"I need help getting out of my dress. I can't reach the
zipper."

�Alright,� Sands said softly, rising from the bed and
walking over to her. When she had turned around, he gently pulled the zipper on
her dress down the rest of the way. �There.�

"Thank you," she murmured, slowly freeing herself
of the dress. "You did a good job picking it out."

�I guess so. Although I didn�t really pick it out. The lady
in the store did,� he murmured, moving back to sit on the bed again.

"Oh." Aida sighed, but shut up after that.

�I told her what I wanted and she picked out what matched.�

She simply nodded as she pulled a pair of pajamas out of her
dresser.

�I got you another present, but you won�t like it. Forget I
said anything,� he muttered.

"How do you know I won't like it?" Aida came over
to the bed and climbed in.

�I don�t know, I just do. It was a stupid idea,� he
murmured, not moving from his seat at the foot of the bed.

"If that's what you're determined to believe then I
wouldn't be able to change your mind."

He frowned at that and reached down to pick up the present
which he threw to her side gently. �See for yourself.�

Aida pushed it aside. "You still think I'll hate it.
Why bother opening it? You won't believe me until you're ready to stop
punishing yourself."

�I left you,� was all he had to say to that.

"You did. But my
birthday only comes once a year and I refuse to spend the last twenty minutes
of it being mad."

�I�m sorry, Aida.�

"I know you are. I'm not so convinced that you know it
though."

�Does it matter?�

"You're going to continue beating yourself up about it
until you are, so yes. I'd say it does."

Sands let out a weary sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose
a little as his headache was still running strong. �I shouldn�t have left you.
I can�t believe I did that.�

"We're home now. It doesn't matter anymore." That
was a lie and Aida knew it, but she truly didn't want to talk about this
anymore.

�Don�t lie to me. Of course it matters.�

"I was serious when I said that I don't want to be
angry on my birthday, Sands."

�Fine,� he murmured. �Do you want me to stay?� he asked
softly.

"Yes please."

�Alright,� he said and reached up to untie his bow tie and
then to remove his shoes. He rose to his feet once that was accomplished and
took off his jacket and laid it on a nearby chair, making sure that the tails
didn�t drag on the floor. He then unbuttoned his vest and did the same. He
repeated the process with his shirt and pants until he was left wearing nothing
but a sleeveless undershirt, his boxers, and a pair of socks. He went into the
bathroom to brush his teeth and go to the bathroom, not bothering to close the
door behind him. Once he was finished, he moved to his dresser and pulled out a
pair of silk pajama pants to put on and thus clothed, he climbed in bed next to
her, looking down the wrapped present that separated them.

"You may have gotten me the present," Aida murmured,
her eyes already closed. "But my opening it is yours, and I'm not going to
do that until you've sufficiently convinced me that you're ready."

�I wrapped it,� he responded softly. �I wanted you to like
it.�

Her tone thawed just a little at the news that he'd wrapped
it himself. "I'm sure I will."

Sands frowned a little in thought. �I honestly didn�t mean
to leave you there, Aida. I just�I wanted to get away from Valencia.
If that makes any sense. That�s why I left so quickly. Too bad it didn�t work,�
he muttered.

"Valencia?"

�Yeah, what about her?�

"No, I mean, she showed up?"

�Right before the valet brought the car up,� he muttered.

"Oh. I didn't know that."

His frown deepened at that. �I wouldn�t have just left if
you if there hadn�t been a reason, Aida,� he said softly, hurt that she would
think that.

"I know that. It's just that sometimes I don't
understand your reasons."

�Alright. She showed up and started arguing with me. I think
she�s upset with me right now,� he said dryly. �Which is just what I need,� he
murmured under his breath.

"I've no doubt that she'll be able to transfer the blame
to me and my feminine wiles, so I wouldn't worry if I were you."

�She thinks that you�ve stolen me away from her,� he said
dryly. �So maybe you�re right about that. Sorry.�

"Whatever. We can just send her to someone else to deal
with."

�I guess,� he murmured, although he knew that it wouldn�t be
that easy.

"Well, we don't have to worry about it now."

�That�s true,� he allowed. �Get some sleep, Aida,� he said
softly, picking up the present and putting it on the nightstand beside him,
careful not to knock over the vase of flowers there.

"Alright." It took a few minutes, but she
eventually managed to push herself across the bed until she was lying in her
husband's arms. "Thank you for my birthday."

�You�re welcome, Aida. Sorry it had to end badly,� he said
with a gentle sigh as he pulled her close.

"This isn't bad," she sighed.

�No, it�s not. Not even close. Getting to hold you will
never be a bad thing, Aida. Never.�

"My point of view exactly." Aida sighed and moved
her head so it was underneath his chin.

�If you tell me leaving you wasn�t my fault, I�ll believe
you,� he said softly after a few minutes of silence. It was probably a selfish
thing to ask, but that didn�t stop him.

Aida was asleep though. That saved her from having to make a
difficult choice, but it didn't make things easier on her guilt-ridden husband.

Sands sighed and let his head sink into his pillow, holding
her even closer but then loosening his grip as he felt guilty for using her for
comfort with his guilt. He simply closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come.
He was still awake and brooding over what he had done hours later.
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More Than Darkness