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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
- 56
- 57
- 58
Time passed. How much
time didn�t matter and wasn�t even acknowledged. Had Sands and Jeffrey not been given the
strong sedative beforehand, their sleep might have been interrupted by vivid
and confusing fever dreams, but as it was they slept like the dead. If they had dreamt, neither man could remember
any of their dreams upon waking up. Which
was as it should be.
�Jeffrey,� Sands
whispered loudly as he opened his eyes. �Are
we still hallucinating? Cause I still
feel like shit.�
�What? What do you mean?� Jeffrey mumbled.
�Am I hallucinating
still or are Aida and Salida asleep on the couch across from us?�
Jeffrey blinked the
lingering grogginess from the drug out of his eyes as best he could and looked
to where Sands was indicating. Sure
enough, both women were curled in towards each other but somehow managed to
avoid all contact whatsoever. They
actually � if he were pressed to describe them in words he would never use �
looked kind of cute. Sands dispelled any
thoughts of cuteness by indulging in a fantasy of a technical m�nage a trois
that lasted just long enough for Jeffrey to consider it as well before both men
shook their heads and mentally claimed their wives as theirs alone. �You�re not hallucinating. Well, unless I am too. I�m not the best person to ask.�
�I guess not,�
Sands muttered, not bothering to move from his prone position on the couch save
to turn his head and watch the two women. One of them � probably Aida � had
even gone so far as to push him over so that he was laying down, removed his
shoes, and even covered him in a light blanket. He lay and wondered about its use in the
middle of summer until he shivered and unconsciously pulled it up to his chin. Oh. Fever chills. Right. Fuck. Does
this still mean I have a fever? He
didn�t feel as bad as he had . . . whenever that had been � time was a little
tenuous in his mind at the moment � but he didn�t feel particularly well
either.
�At least we�re
fucking coherent,� Jeffrey muttered. Sands
nodded slowly.
Their voices broke
into Aida�s light sleep. She stirred,
and slowly opened her eyes. Blinking in
confusion a few times at Salida�s face, she then turned her head and looked
sleepily at the men.
�Feeling any
better?� she asked softly, stretching a little and moving away from the other
woman.
�There�s no fucking
floating lights anymore if that�s what you mean,� Jeffrey muttered under his
breath.
�A little,� Sands
answered.
�Is your head any
clearer?�
�So it would seem,�
Jeffrey murmured.
�I�ll let you know
if I feel a sudden urge to chase after any pink elephants in the near future,�
Sands said wryly.
�You�ve seen Dumbo?�
she asked with a bemused smile.
�Once. It was an indulgence,� he murmured. �A birthday, I think.�
�That part scared
me when I was really young.�
�I actually liked
it. I think I liked the part with the
snake, if I remember correctly.�
�Don�t ask me. That must have been before my time,� Jeffrey
muttered.
�I like it
now. Although the part where they take
Dumbo away from his mom still makes me cry.�
�I guess,� Sands
murmured.
�You guess what?�
she asked, now looking amused. �You
guess it makes me cry?�
�What? Oh. Never mind. It never made me cry. It was just a movie,� he said with a shrug of
his shoulders under the blanket.
Aida stuck her
tongue out at him.
�Oh, it made me cry
like a little girl. So very sad,�
Jeffrey said seriously.
Sands made a face. �Jeffrey, shut the hell up. You said you haven�t even seen it before.�
�Yeah, I know. I was just making conversation. Vixen�s asleep and I�m fucking bored.�
Sands rolled his
eyes and gave Aida a look as if to say, �you see what I have to put up with?�
Aida stretched
again, then stood. �Anyone up for some
dinner?�
�Dinner? How long have we been fucking sleeping?�
Jeffrey asked with a frown.
Aida looked at the
clock. �A few hours. But it�s been awhile since I�ve eaten at
least. I don�t know about the rest of
you.�
Sands frowned and
thought about it. �It�s probably not a
good sign that I can�t remember when I last ate, but I�m not really hungry
right now.�
�Me either, but I
need to fucking get up anyway. I don�t
want to sleep anymore,� Jeffrey muttered, rising to his feet slowly. When he decided that he wasn�t going to fall
back down again he grabbed the blanket, and headed toward the kitchen. A glass of water at least might be nice.
�Are you going to
help me?� Aida asked, going to the fridge and peering in to see what they even
had to cook with. Someone was going to
have to do some grocery shopping soon.
�Why would I want
to help ��
�I�ll help you if
you need me too, Aida,� Sands interrupted, pulling the blanket Jeffrey had
grabbed around his shoulders. This whole
fucking chilled in the middle of fucking summer thing was growing irritating.
�If you�re up for
it, it�d probably be a good thing to continue your education,� she teased her
husband lightly. �Although I�m thinking
we could just have soup and sandwiches.�
�Feel free to help
kitty cook all you want, Sands. Just as
long as I don�t have to fucking be there,� Jeffrey muttered as he walked over
to take a seat at the table with a glass of water clutched in one hand, and the
corners of the blanket in the other.
�That pretty much defeats the purpose,
Jeffrey,� Sands said dryly.
�You noticed that,
huh? Good for you,� Jeffrey answered
before taking a slow sip of his water.
�You�re a party
pooper, Jeff.� Aida sighed, then dug the
electric griddle out of a bottom cabinet.
Grilled cheese was as good as anything at the moment.
�So sue me, Aid,�
Jeffrey murmured with a frown. �That
doesn�t really work. Fuck. You need a longer name.�
�That�s
alright. I like my name as it is now.�
�Hmm. Maybe I�ll start calling you kit or cat then,�
Jeffrey murmured into his glass.
Sands just shook
his head at the two of them, feeling as if he had somehow slipped into the
fucking twilight zone or something. They
weren�t supposed to banter or even really have conversations. They were supposed to argue or just ignore
each other. This was fucking weird.
�And maybe I�ll
start to like that.� Aida rolled her
eyes. It was bad enough being called
kitty all the time.
�Maybe,� Jeffrey
murmured. Speaking of cats. . . Jeffrey reached down to scoop Obsidian up from
where he had been sniffing at his feet and place him in his lap under the
blanket. Obsidian seemed to enjoy this,
staying where he was set, but peeking out of the opening in the blanket to look
around the room. Jeffrey smiled a
little, and pat the small cat on the head gently.
�He�s warm,� Sands
murmured, embracing Obsidian�s small form and the warmth that came with him.
The cat mewled,
wriggled, and finally turned his head enough that he could chew on the hair
that Sands had allowed to hang down within the cat�s reach. Aida watched for a moment, shook her head,
and started to cut cheese for the sandwiches.
Sands and Jeffrey
both suffered Obsidian�s attentions with a odd little smile, showing more care
and affection for a cat than they ever would a stranger. It was ironic, but that�s the way it was.
Once her sandwiches
were constructed, Aida turned on the heat beneath them and turned to the
pantry. �Do you have preference for
soup?� she asked the men.
�What kind of soup
is there?� Jeffrey asked since Sands still didn�t really feel like eating
anything.
�Pretty much
anything you could want. I really
stocked up on it since it�s so easy to heat up.
I didn�t know how many meals Sands was going to have to make me.�
�Uh . . . chicken
noodle?� Jeffrey asked hesitantly. Something
wasn�t quite right about him asking her to make him dinner, but he had decided
he was at least somewhat hungry and she was offering, so he guessed it was alright.
�Yeah. We�ve got that.� She pulled out a large can of the soup,
flipped the sandwiches, and then poured the second part of their meal into a
pan. �Is Salida eating with us?�
Jeffrey shrugged. �I�d let her sleep, but I�d make something for
her too. I don�t know if she�ll be
hungry when she wakes up or not.�
Aida shrugged. Cold grilled cheese really wasn�t good, but
at least the soup could be reheated.
Turning off the griddle, she stirred the soup, waiting for it to
boil. �One of you want to get bowls and
plates?�
�I will,� Sands
answered when Jeffrey made it clear he wasn�t going to speak up. He attempted to pick Obsidian up and set him
down on the floor, but the cat had other ideas and climbed up to sit on Sands�
shoulder instead as he stood up. Sands
just sighed and began collecting what Aida had asked for.
�Why does he do
that? Weird cat,� Jeffrey murmured,
turning his head slightly to look at Obsidian.
�Maybe he�s a
familiar,� Aida teased.
�What do you mean
by that, kitty?� Jeffrey asked her with a curious tilt of his head.
She shook her
head. �Nothing. I guess I�ve been living in the big city for
too long. My parents would box my ears
if they heard me say that.�
�Why?� Jeffrey
asked, irritated that she wouldn�t answer his question.
�Why what? Why would they box my ears?� Aida shrugged. �I was raised Catholic.�
�And they would do
that just because you said that Obsidian might be a familiar? That�s fucked up,� Jeffrey muttered.
�I was exaggerating. My parents only ever hit me to scare me out
of doing something dangerous.�
�Sands was too
pussy to do anything dangerous. Well,
except for burning the fucking house down, that is.�
�Shut up, Jeffrey,�
Sands muttered, handing Aida the bowls and plates.
�I�m just saying.�
Aida didn�t take
the bowls and plates. She was too busy
staring off into the distance, swallowing hard, and trying to tuck that bit of
information back into the dark corner of her mind where it belonged.
�Kitty? Hello? Fuck,
I think I broke her. What did I say?�
�Shut up, Jeffrey,�
Sands growled again.
�Was it about
burning the fucking house down?�
�God, why can�t you
just fucking shut your trap for once?� Sands said exasperatedly.
�Fuck you,� Jeffrey
said with a scowl.
�I�m alright,� Aida
protested, taking the dishes. Her grip
wasn�t as firm as it should have been though, and the bowls went sliding off
the plates and shattered on the floor.
�I think it�s
obvious to say that you�re not alright,� Sands muttered.
�No shit. I just fucking bought those too,� he
complained, staring down at the broken dishes he had been forced to buy with
Salida after she had broken all of their other ones.
�Sorry.� Aida listlessly handed back the plates. �I don�t think I�m hungry any more.�
Sands let out a
frustrated sigh as he took back the plates. �Is something like this going to happen every
time you�re reminded of what I�ve done? I�m
just asking.�
�Is that why she ��
Jeffrey was cut off by Sands pressing his lips shut.
�Well excuse me,�
she snapped at her husband. �I wasn�t
aware that my behavior was so wearing on you.�
�Fine, snap at me
for something I can�t fucking change. Fucking
forget it. It never fucking happened. It�s all a big lie. I never burnt the house down, never killed my
parents, never even got the tattoo. Does
thinking that make it easier to be with me?� he asked coldly.
Aida didn�t even
bother answering. She reached over and
turned off the heat under the soup, then being very careful of where she
walked, she left the kitchen, intent on going upstairs.
Jeffrey took action
and set the plates down quickly before Sands could throw them in rage and
frustration after Aida had left. He didn�t
want any more fucking dishes broken, damn it.
Sands for his part,
just let her go. He wasn�t up for an
argument right now. And if he decided to
tell his fever and throbbing headache to fuck off and search her out anyway, he
would only up arguing with her more in his current mood.
�Just calm the fuck
down and then you can go talk to kitty. I didn�t think you two fucking fought. Well, not like vixen and I do,� Jeffrey
muttered.
�Just leave me
alone, alright? I don�t want to fucking
talk to you either.�
�Fine. Fuck it. Whatever. I�m gone,� Jeffrey said with a parting scowl.
Sands just sighed
and went out on the back porch, his blanket still in hand. He needed a fucking cigarette. Or ten. Maybe then he�d go try and reason with his
wife.

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

Aida made it all the way upstairs and into her room before
the tears started to overflow. Her
husband�s parting words played over and over in her head, tormenting her. Mocking her.
�Fine . . . forget it. It never fucking happened. It�s all a big lie. I never burnt the house down, never killed my
parents, never even got the tattoo. Does
thinking that make it easier to be with me?�
What was she doing here? What kind of idiot was she? He was right.
Thinking all that was how she got through her days. That and thinking that she�d be able to
change him. In a brief fit of temper,
she picked up Saturninus and threw him across the room, sobbing with anger and
self-hatred. She was a complete and total
nitwit. Sands wasn�t going to change
because he didn�t want to. As long as
she quietly accepted things, he�d never see any reason why he should even
try. And even if she made a fuss, she
wasn�t sure that he�d even care. Oh, he�d
get all guilty, but he wouldn�t stop.
�My husband . . . my
husband . . . i-is a . . . oh god . . .� Aida whimpered as she slid down the
wall. Hugging her bony knees to her
equally bony chest, she started to sob.
But even that didn�t stop her from finally admitting the truth to
herself out loud. �My husband is a
murderer,� she whispered. �And he doesn�t
care.�
As soon as the
words rang in the empty air, she knew she wasn�t going to be able to stay
forever. Sooner or later her conscience
was going to get to her. And not only
would she leave . . . but she�d go to the police.
More and more sobs
built up in her chest, and she let them out in long, painful heaves. Oh god
I�m such a fool.

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

Sands had chain-smoked for . . . well, he wasn�t quite sure
how long it had been exactly, but he knew that it had been awhile because he
was practically buzzing with nicotine. Time to face the music. I�ll tell her I�m sorry and she�ll accept it
and go back to believing whatever it is that she believes about me. That�s the way things are. He frowned at that and threw his last
cigarette butt into the yard. She�ll never accept what I am, and even if
she does, she won�t be able to live with it. She�s too . . . honest. He sighed. He didn�t want her to have to lie to herself,
but he didn�t want to have to change who he was either. He liked what he was. Not all the time, granted, but enough that he
liked himself more than he hated himself. He liked to kill, he always had. It had never given him anything but enjoyment
after that first time. It didn�t bother
him that he had killed people. Why
should it? It wasn�t his fault that they
were dead. He was only the means to
their end, nothing more. That he enjoyed
what he did was inconsequential. People
died, whether he killed them or not. They
always would.
There were others
like him in the world, he knew, but he had no desire whatsoever to meet any of
them. No desire to swap stories and
feelings like members of some kind of pathetic self-help group for serial
killers. He didn�t care about them. They were insane, each and every one of them.
Despite his claims
to the contrary, he didn�t truly believe that he was insane. He was too rational to be insane. He was intelligent, he was cognizant, most of
the time; he wasn�t bouncing off the walls or going on killing sprees or
claiming that aliens or Elvis or God told him to do the things he did. He
killed. Just him. He didn�t hunt for his victims, they found
him. They were meant to find him. That was
the way it worked. What he did wasn�t
wrong. It was his way of life. Period.
�She�ll never
understand,� he murmured to himself out loud as he walked into the house. �She might try, but she will never succeed.� This was curiously disappointing, but he
supposed he would have to live with it. It
was with this thought that he knocked gently on their bedroom door and called
out his wife�s name softly.
Aida had cried
herself to exhaustion and lethargy, and once she had a nap, she�d probably cry
some more. She was going to have to call
her parents. There was no way they could
visit now. She wasn�t up to pretending
with them. Other people . . . that was
one thing. But she�d never been able to
trick her parents.
Ignoring the
knocking at the door and the sound of her husband�s voice, Aida wondered just
how long she had. Before she ended up
leaving. For good. God she was tired.
Sands sighed and
opened the door anyway and took a step inside. �Aida? I�m,
I�m sorry. I don�t want to fight with
you.�
How could he say
that? If he didn�t mind killing, then
how could he have any negative feelings about fighting? Needless to say, Aida didn�t answer him.
�Aida, I�m sorry. Say something. Please,� he said softly.
She just looked up
at him, all her new admissions and knowledge shining in her eyes.
Sands took a step
back when he saw her, not meaning to do so, but unable to stop himself. �You�re not trying to deny any of it any longer.�
It was more of a statement than a
question. Somehow, he knew it wasn�t
going to be that easy. �Does that mean
you�ve accepted it? Or that . . . or
that you�re leaving me?�
She shrugged. Staying . . . leaving . . . she hadn�t made a
decision yet. Something told her it�d
take a long time to do so.
�Oh,� he said in a
quavering voice at her indecisive gesture, feeling the world around him start
to dim a bit. �Would it make any
difference if I said stay?�
�I want to,� she
whispered. �I want to wake up tomorrow
and not remember anything � not who I am, or what I�ve done, or what I�ve
accomplished. I want everything to be a
blank except for the fact that I love you.
But even that wouldn�t work because the fact of who you are is thrown
into my face all the time, and then I�d be at this same crossroads.�
�I can�t,� Sands
swallowed. �I can�t make your decision
any easier, can I?� It was rhetorical. �Or I won�t,� he muttered to himself.
Before the
conversation could continue any father, Salida stumbled into the room. �Sands, Jeffrey.�
Sands frowned but
turned to her, and Jeffrey was startled back into wakefulness.
�What is it, vixen?�
�I meant to tell
you earlier, but you were so out of it, and then you fell asleep, and I fell
asleep, and now I think we may be running out of time.�
�Running out of
time? What do you mean?� Sands asked.
�What are you
talking about, vixen? We�re still
fucking safe, aren�t we?�
�I mean there�s
been a strange car parked across the street for a few days now. I meant to point it out when we went car
shopping, but you distracted me. No one
in the neighborhood has gone near it � in fact, I�d go so far as it say that
they�re avoiding it. Except for a group of kids this afternoon who
were soon shepherded off by their parents.
The windows are shaded, so there�s no way to tell if there�s people in
it or not ��
�Tell me straight,
sunrise,� Sands interrupted her deftly. He
was more than a little pissed off that she hadn�t mentioned this earlier, but
there was no use worrying about that now. �Do you think they�re after us? That they�re police or fucking surveillance of
some kind?� Fuck. He did not
have time for this.
�How the fuck
should I know? I�ve never fled from the
fucking law before.�
Sands let out a
sigh of frustration, sent a worried glance toward Aida, and headed out the
door. �I�ll look.�
�Don�t let them
fucking see you. If they�re cops and
they know we�re fucking on to them, we�re fucked.�
�Yes, thank you I
am aware of that, Jeffrey,� Sands said dryly as he went downstairs. �It doesn�t matter. If they�ve got the fucking house wired, we�re
fucked anyway.�
�Touch�,� Jeffrey
muttered as Sands went to the front door and peered out one of the small
windows on either side of it, making sure to stay hidden. Whether it was fate or purely dumb luck, at
that very moment, the driver�s side door opened and a man stepped out to
stretch. Sands watched him shrewdly,
memorizing every gesture he made until he disappeared back into the car and
closed the door behind him. �Fuck.�
�Cops?�
�Yeah. Fuck. He
might as well have a sign pasted on his fucking forehead.�
�We�ve got to get
the fuck out of here.�
�No shit,� Sands
agreed, already heading back upstairs.
Salida was pacing
nervously while Aida sat by in a kind of stunned shock. How could it already be decision time? How could she make a decision now?
�We�re leaving.
Now,� Sands informed them once he had entered the bedroom. �I�m fucking sorry, but we have no other
choice. Grab only what you can take with
you without seeming suspicious. We can
always buy what we have to leave behind on the fucking road.�
�What about the
cats?� Salida looked stubborn enough to
fight if she didn�t like the answer.
Sands was at a loss.
�Gather them up. I guess they�re coming too,� Jeffrey said with
a shrug. �Fucking lucky we have the room
now,� he muttered. �Yea for spontaneous
car shopping.�
Salida nodded, and
then walked quickly down the hall to her and Jeffrey�s room, leaving Sands
behind to talk to a bewildered Aida.
�Aida? I�m-I�m sorry this had to happen. Honestly, I am.� He looked down at the floor, not able to look
at her reaction as he asked this question, �You have to choose. Do you come with us, or do you stay here? You can tell them you didn�t know what I was;
that you�re innocent. They�ll probably
believe you.�
Jeffrey wisely
remained silent.
Aida shook her
head. She wasn�t that low. She�d known almost from the day they�d met. �I can�t do that,� she whispered in a voice
that trembled. �I�m not ready to make a
decision yet.�
�You have to be,
Aida. You have no choice,� Sands said,
looking up at her with sorrowful eyes. �We
have to leave. Now.�
If she didn�t go
now, she�d never see him again. And she
wasn�t ready to leave him.
Salida appeared in
the doorway wearing her most comfortable clothes and carrying two kitty
cases. One with her cat, one with the
kittens. She had a jacket for Jeffrey
and the shirt she�d bought him.
Aida found herself
the center of everyone�s attention.
Taking a deep breath, she made the choice that�d be the easiest to
change later. �I�m going to need a back
pack or something. If they�ve been
watching long enough, they know I�m sick.
We can at least take some food.
And I�ll need to bring my meds and stuff. A bag shouldn�t raise any suspicion. They�ll just assume we�re going to the
hospital.�
Sands visibly
sighed in relief and nodded. �That
should be fine. Bring whatever you need,
Aida,� he said, moving to put on a belt and then attaching his two knives and
the .45 in its holster to his belt. He
then pulled on another t-shirt over the one he was already wearing and buttoned
up a long sleeve shirt over that, straightening them so that it looked natural.
He double checked to make sure he had
his wallet and car keys, and turned to Aida. �How can I help?� he asked, not knowing if she
had finished packing or not.
�Jeffrey and I put
a few blankets and pillows in the new car earlier,� Salida volunteered to the
room in general. Then she said to Sands,
�Perhaps you need to get anything sentimental that you want.�
Aida was already
busy packing: her meds and their prescriptions, a pair of jeans, two clean
shirts, some clean underwear, a pair of the pajamas that Sands had bought her,
their wedding picture of them on the courthouse steps, the necklace he�d bought
her, and the book of Shakespeare engravings.
Lastly she grabbed a few childhood mementos. She slipped some sandals on her feet, then
looked at her bag. Perhaps she�d been
optimistic when she�d said that they could bring some food. We�ll
need some water bottles at least. �Meet
you downstairs,� she murmured.
He nodded and
looked around the room, drawn to one thing in particular: Saturninus. He picked
him up off of the floor and tucked him under an arm. �If you say a word, I�ll beat the shit out of
you,� he addressed Jeffrey coldly.
�I�m not saying
anything,� Jeffrey responded, raising his arms in the air in a gesture of surrender.
�Is that everything?�
Sands looked around. Could one rabbit be the only sentimental thing
he had in this entire house? It would
seem so. It was as if he hadn�t even
bothered to really live in the house. Sure, he slept here, he ate here, he made love
to his wife on this very bed, but he hadn�t really settled. He hadn�t made it his home. It was as if he had been waiting for this to
happen all along. Perhaps he had been.
�Stop fucking
depressing yourself and let�s go if we�re going,� Jeffrey interrupted.
Sands nodded, took
one last look around the room, and went downstairs.

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

They�d been driving for a few hours now. Salida was asleep in the backseat while Aida
gazed sightlessly out her window and Sands and Jeffrey drove. She was a fugitive. It was certainly an odd feeling . . . or
perhaps that was just shock. Aida didn�t
examine those feelings too closely.
�Are you alright?�
Sands asked. �Stupid question. Forget I asked,� he muttered to himself.
�I�ve never been a
fugitive before,� Aida said in a voice free of all inflection. She might have been saying that it was night
for all the insight it gave Sands into her thoughts.
�I�m sorry I turned
you into one,� Sands said slowly. �It
wasn�t my intention.�
�You�d have to care
to have intentions.� There was silence
for a moment, as if Sands � or perhaps she � was shocked by the cruelness of
her comment. �Sorry,� Aida murmured.
�Don�t be. You�re justified,�� he muttered.
What the hell did
that mean? That she was right and he
didn�t actually care about her at all?
�You have a right
to be angry with me. I forced your hand. I forced your decision. It wasn�t necessarily my fault that we had to
leave at that very instance, but I�d be lying if I said I wasn�t just the
slightest bit thankful for it.�
�I don�t blame you.� That at least was the truth. No, this was all her fault. If she had refused to go to dinner with him .
. . If she hadn�t agreed to marry him .
. . If she hadn�t let him pay for her
treatments . . . If she�d just quietly
rolled over and died . . .
�Why not? It�s my fault they were coming in the first
place,� Sands said with a frown. �You
told me to be careful, and I obviously wasn�t.�
�And I should have
run far and fast from you. And now we�re
married.� That�s right. They were.
She could never truly leave. Her
wedding vows were something she took very seriously.
�That�s all that�s
keeping you with me? Your vows?� he
asked, not quite able to keep the hurt out of his voice. �Do you even love me anymore?�
�Of course I do.�
�But you would
still leave me were we not married.�
�Yes,� she
whispered. �That�s not to say that I
wouldn�t come back, but right now, I�d leave.�
�At least you�re
honest about it,� Sands muttered to himself darkly, not looking at her. �If you left now, you more than likely wouldn�t
ever be able to come back. Would that
change your answer? It wouldn�t, would
it?�
�Why are you
getting upset? What have I done to you?�
�Nothing,� he said
with a shake of his head. �You�ve done
nothing.�
�I�ve done nothing to you,� she clarified.
He nodded.
Aida returned to
looking out her window in silence.
Sands sighed, not
knowing what else to say. What could he
say? Her world had been overturned with
all the care and grace of turkey farmer preparing for Thanksgiving. He knew it wasn�t right; it wasn�t fair, but
that was all. While he was sorry she was
upset with him now and didn�t want her to feel that way, he couldn�t bring
himself to feel bad that she was with him. He loved her and wouldn�t let her go without a
fight. If that meant that she would
become wanted like he was, so be it. It
was selfish, it was cruel, and he didn�t care. He only cared about her. Everything else paled in comparison. Nothing else mattered.
Blissfully unaware
of her husband�s thoughts, she wondered if he ever even considered what she�d
done for him since they�d established
that she hadn�t done anything to
him. She honestly didn�t know. That she�d seen him bring Saturninus out of
the house gave her some hope . . . but she didn�t want to let it get to
her. He�d probably just brought it
because she�d given it to him and not because of what the toy represented.
Sands sighed again.
He didn�t like fucking awkward silences.
It was too unnatural considering that he
never had a full moment�s quiet except perhaps when he was sleeping with all
the voices constantly murmuring in his head. He had grown used to it, he had had to, but in
doing so, he had lost the willingness and desire to simply sit in silence. �We can probably stop somewhere now if you�re
getting hungry,� he murmured in an attempt to strike up conversation with her.
�Somewhere on the
road to nowhere,� she muttered.
�Do you want me to
stop now? Dinner got kind of . . . interrupted.�
�I�m not hungry.�
�Will you eat
anyway if I stop somewhere?� he asked cautiously.
�Why do you care?�
�I just do. I don�t want you to go hungry because of
something I did, Aida,� he said softly.
�You don�t care,� she muttered rebelliously.
�Of course I care,�
he said with a frown. �Why do you think
that? I care about you, Aida. I love
you.�
This infuriated her
for some reason. Turning her head away
from her window for the first time in what seemed like hours, she glared at
him. �Let me tell you something Sheldon Jeffrey Sands . . .� she
emphasized each of his names with an accusing finger. �I love you even though you have a different
personality for each name. I love you
even though you sprout new personalities at the drop of a hat, most of whom
have it in for me. I can handle all that,
just as I can �handle� the thought that you�ve killed in the past. That�s not what I have a problem with. What I have a problem with is the fact that
you�re closed off to even the possibility
of stopping an action that you know
distresses me, and that I�ve told you
that I can�t live with. Every time I
find myself in agony over having to chose between the man I love above all else
and who I fundamentally am,� again
the finger came out, �you have the
gall to feel hurt. As if I�m purposely
doing something to lash out at you. You�ve
never had any intension of trying to
change, even though you�ve told me you would.
If you truly cared about me leaving you � hell, if you truly cared about
me � you�d do stop lying about that
and do us both a favor and stop showing the hypocrisy of your professed �love.�� Aida�s face was flushed with anger and her
chest heaved with emotion. �And I don�t
care if you kill me for saying it, but you don�t know what love is, and you don�t
care that you don�t know. You just want
someone to help take your mind off your troubles.�
Sands gaped at her
like a fish out of water, not knowing what to say.
�What?� she
demanded. �Aren�t you going to tell me
how sorry you are?� Before he had the
chance to do so, she�d continued. �Let
me save you the breath. You�re not
sorry. I don�t think you�re ever actually
sorry. Sorry that I�m mad or upset, but
not for anything that you may have done to make me that way. You�ve told me time and time again that you�re
a sociopath. That kind of erases any
chance of actual apology from you, doesn�t it?
Let me tell you something. All
those times you�ve felt guilt? You didn�t. If you never felt it before meeting me, you
don�t feel it now. You�re just scared.�
He swallowed. �Scared of what, Aida?� he asked, keeping his
voice as calm as he could under such an unexpected onslaught.
�You�re
terrified that some day I won�t be able
to deal with the mound of shit that�s piling up, and that I�ll break every oath
I ever made to myself. You�re scared
shitless that I�ll leave you, or that I�ll stay but I�ll turn into someone you
don�t know. Or even worse, that I�ll
turn into someone like you.�
�You�re right,� he
said slowly, stopping the fucking car before he ran into someone. �About everything. I am what I am, Aida. I�ve never claimed otherwise. I don�t feel guilt, I never have. It�s a flaw, I know, but that same flaw also
causes me not to care about it. But it�s
unfair of you to say that I don�t love or care about you, Aida. You don�t know that. You may think you do, and you may be right on
a lot of points, but you�re wrong on that one. I do
care. You didn�t know me before. If you had, you would know just how much I�ve
tried to change for you. But you don�t
want to believe that I have. You�ve
convinced yourself that I somehow never cared about your feelings at all. That�s bullshit. Do you know how fucking hard it is to deny
yourself the one thing that feels natural in your life? The one
thing? Because that�s what killing
is for me, Aida. Natural. It�s who I am; what I was made to do. And yet, I deny it. Believe what you want, but that�s the truth.�
�The truth?� She laughed.
�How many people have you killed since we�ve met?��
Sands frowned at
her laugh, and thought about it. �Four,�
he said after a few minutes� thought.
�And how long have
we known each other? Two months? That�d be someone every other week. It doesn�t sound like you�ve been trying to
deny anything to me.�
�Ask me how many
people I killed in that time period before
we met, Aida.�
�I told you I don�t
care about them. You didn�t claim to
love someone that your actions hurt then.�
�Yeah, but I do
now, which is the fucking point. Let�s
just say for argument�s sake, that it was many times more than just four. Enough so that if you knew the number you
might even think, just for a instance, that only four is a big fucking step for
me,� he said with a scowl.
�Good for you. But it you didn�t do it because you love
me. I�m not the only one who can delude
themselves,� she muttered, returning her gaze to the window.
�If I didn�t do it
for you, then who the fuck did I do it for? It certainly wasn�t for me. I don�t care about that, remember?� he said
with a trace of bitterness.
Aida didn�t answer
him. She was suddenly exhausted and
wanted nothing so much as a bed to lie down on, but she had a feeling that
would be a long time in coming.
�Why did you come,
Aida?� Sands asked with a weary sigh. �Why
did you come if this is how you really feel?�
�Because those
feelings are nothing compared to the pain I feel at the thought of leaving you.� All her exhaustion, conflict, and sorrow was
in her voice. �Because my own damn moral
code won�t allow me to pretend that I never knew you in that I couldn�t tell
the police that I had no knowledge of what you�ve done; because I can�t claim
that there was a threat hanging over me to keep me from telling them. And because that inability to lie would strip
me of my entire life, so why shouldn�t I just hand it over on a silver platter?�
�I don�t want your
life, Aida. I just want you to be happy,�
Sands murmured. �That�s obviously not
going to happen now, is it?�
�I don�t know. I�d like to say that simply being with you no
matter where or why is enough to make me happy . . . but I don�t know if that�s
the truth either.�
Sands gave a sad
smile at that. �Fair enough.�
�Where are we
going?� she asked a few minutes later.
�I don�t know. I just headed out of the city and kept going. I have no idea if we�re even in Louisiana
anymore. Was there . . . was there
somewhere you wanted to go?�
�I�d like to see my
parents. I think it�s safe to say that
they won�t be coming to visit us anytime soon.
And this way I�ll get to see them at least one last time.�
�Yeah,� Sands
murmured. �Alright. To Aida�s house we go. Point me in the right direction.� He put the car into drive again, checked the
road, and rejoined traffic on the highway once more, headed towards the great
unknown.
�East until you
nearly hit the Mississippi, and
then north. It�s something like a ten
hour drive from the city so we may have to stop somewhere along the way.�
Sands nodded and
drove on.

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

�We�ve been sitting in this fucking hot car for hours and
they haven�t come back, Roland. I think
they�re gone,� Emily said with a frown, shifting in her seat and mopping the
sweat from her brow.
�You think they
noticed us?� Susannah spoke up from the back seat. �We are rather conspicuous, you know. And those people we had to warn away didn�t
help matters either.�
�Don�t you think I
know that?� Roland asked with a scowl. �Has
anyone heard from that fucking idiot parked out in front of the house?�
�Not since Sands
and the women left,� Susannah said with a shake of her head.
�How much you want
to bet he�s boinking them both?� Emily piped up for the umpteenth time. They kept refusing to bet with her. �You guys are no fun.�
�Fuck this. If they�re going to be gone for awhile, then
this is our chance to set some surveillance inside the house.� Roland refused to believe that Sands and his
fucking harem were truly gone. He did not lose a catch.
Since Susannah and
Emily could do little else but follow along, the three CIA agents rode in
silence the few short blocks to Sands� house and exited their car, moving up to
the house as calmly as possible, not wanting to create a hysteria or worse, get
themselves arrested because some nosy do-gooder thought they were burglars.
Emily knelt down in
front of the door without having to be asked and deftly picked the lock while
Roland and Susannah stood guard.
�Careful, they have
cats. Let one of them out and we�ll have
to go searching for it,� Susannah warned.
Emily nodded and
the trio made their way into the house to find . . . nothing. Well, that wasn�t necessarily true, the place
was filled with furniture that looked used, but something wasn�t right.
�Motherfucking god
damnit! They�re not here!� Roland yelled
at the top of his lungs.
�How can you be so
sure?� Susannah asked with a frown, even though she felt it too; an absence
from the house. A void. As if it had been vacated in a hurry. There was nothing out of place, it was just a
feeling.
�If he�s not sure
then I am. They�re long gone by now. They must have spotted that fucking
chucklehead out front,� Emily muttered. �I
don�t even think the cats are still here. Did he say that they were taking stuff with
them when they left? Clothing? Cats?� Emily asked incredulously, disbelieving
that the rookie officer out front could have been so stupid.
�I don�t know, but
I�m sure as hell going to find out,� Roland said with a scowl and turned and
headed out into the street once more. Sands
may have gotten away this time, but he was far from giving up the chase yet. That murdering bastard would pay for what he
had done. Roland would see to it.

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

Salida decided that sudden travel disagreed with her. This epiphany came as she sat on the bathroom
floor in front of the toilet, her stomach empty and her forehead resting on the
cool �sanitized for her protection� porcelain.
I�m glad Sands ended up spending
the night with Aida, she ruefully thought as she contemplated getting
up. At least Jeffrey wasn�t around to
get worried �
�Vixen? Where are you? I�ve been fucking liberated. I think Sands and kitty must have had a fight
because here I am. Vixen?� Jeffrey
called out, entering the bathroom and looking down at her. �Why didn�t you tell me you weren�t feeling
well?� he asked softly.
She shook her
head. �I think it�s just nerves. I can�t believe I didn�t mention that car
earlier.�
It was Jeffrey�s
turn to shake his head now. �It�s not
your fault. We all had other things on
our mind. We�re safe now. That�s all that matters.�
�Who do you think
they were?� she asked as Jeffrey helped her to her feet and led her to the
bed. Once they�d gotten to the hotel
around two that morning, Salida had spent most of her time watching TV. She�d slept in the car and she�d been wired
by their near escape. It�d be nice to
lay by her husband�s side for awhile and let him reassure her.
�The local police
if I�m lucky, and the trio of fucking CIA officers who�ve been chasing us since
DC if I�m not,� he murmured as he lay next to her. He could tell that she wasn�t tired, but he on
the other hand was fucking exhausted. That,
and he wasn�t sure if his fever had truly gone away or not. There really hadn�t been any opportunity to
check.
�Are you going to
go to sleep?� Salida asked, hearing the weariness in his voice.
�Not if you don�t
want me to,� he responded turning his head to look at her and forcing his body
to ignore the fact that he was lying in bed and stay awake for awhile longer.
�No, I don�t
mind. As long as you stay here I�ll be
happy.�
�I�m not going
anywhere, vixen. Especially not now. I�m yours,� he murmured, moving a little close
to her so that he was holding her in his arms as best as he could under the
covers. He wouldn�t close his eyes yet
and go to sleep. He wanted to stay awake
to be with her for just a little while longer.
�And I�m � did you
just touch me?� Salida looked at him,
clearly confused.
�Well, not just,
but I am touching you, vixen. Why?�
�I felt it,� she
said, her confused look turning into a puzzled frown. �But your hands are behind me . . .� Placing her hands on his chest, Salida pushed
him away a bit. Had one of the cats
gotten out, she wondered as she looked between them. There was nothing there, but she suddenly
felt the touch again. Her face paled a
little as she realized what she was feeling.
�What is it? What�s wrong?� Jeffrey asked worriedly,
feeling his exhaustion vanish upon seeing the look upon her face.
�It�s not you . . .�
�It�s not me what,
vixen? What�s happening? I�m not touching you, I promise,� he tried to
assure her, thinking that she didn�t want to be touched by him for some reason.
�Do you want me to go?�
�No, not you. The babies.
They�re moving,� she murmured. �That�s
what I felt.�
�Oh,� Jeffrey said,
seeming visibly relieved that it wasn�t him who was causing her distress. He then adopted a curious look as he processed
what she had told him. �They�re moving? You can feel it? Really? What�s it feel like?�
Salida reached
behind her and grabbed one of his hands, placing it on her abdomen. She then looked up into his eyes, her own
watching his for some reaction.
Initially he tried
to pull his hand away in pure reflex, but Salida wasn�t letting go. Once he figured this out, he stopped trying to
pull away and simply concentrated. There!
Something or someone had definitely kicked his hand through Salida�s stomach! Holy shit! Jeffrey blinked in surprise, his eyes going
wide and full of mingled confusion and wonder. �One of them kicked me,� he gasped, looking at
Salida, his eyes still widened and bewildered looking.
�Kicked me you mean.� Salida�s voice was soft and her eyes
thoughtful. �Before now, they were never
really . . . alive . . . you know?�
Jeffrey nodded. �I know what you mean. It�s fair to say that they�re fucking alive
now,� Jeffrey said, still sounding shocked. �Does it feel weird? It feels weird.�
�It feels weird,�
she confirmed. After a moment�s thought,
she turned around so that her back was pressed against Jeffrey�s chest then
moved both of his hands to her belly.
Closing her eyes, she laid her hands on top of his and sighed. Despite everything that had happened
recently, she was . . . content.
Jeffrey�s
bewilderment didn�t fully go away, but a wide grin made its way to his face as
he rested his chin on his wife�s shoulder gently and tried not to flinch in
surprise or consequently let out a delighted laugh every time one of his
children moved under his hands. It was a
hell of a thing to feel. He could only
imagine what it must be like for her. �I
love you, my beautiful wife,� he said softly, simply taking a moment to bask in
her presence. �You�re amazing.�
Salida turned her
head to kiss him, but that proved to be too much of a stretch for her poor,
abused neck. Instead she ended up
coughing dryly as she turned her face into the pillow.
With a small frown,
he waited until she had finished coughing before lifting himself off of the bed
so that he could kiss her without her having to turn her head. He tried to keep his hands on her belly as
best he could why he did so, not wanting to give up the sensation of feeling
his children beneath his hands quite yet, but wanting � no needing � to kiss his wife.
She kissed him back
gratefully, then smiled. �At least now
we know that yesterday didn�t hurt any of them.�
He nodded, trying
to match her smile, and very nearly succeeding. �I�m sorry about that, Salida. I should have been looking out for you. I wasn�t, and now . . .� he looked at the ring
of bruises around her delicate neck. �I�m
sorry. It shouldn�t have happened.�
�It�s not your
fault Sands was an idiot. Hell, I don�t entirely blame him. God knows he�s got to get confused sometime.�
�Only fucking
sometimes?� Jeffrey muttered. �Still, he
should have fucking known better. I can�t
believe that bitch managed to trick him.� He smiled a little then, his mood suddenly
changing as it was prone to do. �Killing
her was fun though. But strange. Sands and I were two separate people, and yet
not. Very confusing, but we seemed to
make a good killing team. It was fun. Well, until the place caught fire that is,� he
murmured.
�No wonder you had a fever. I was wondering about that, but it wasn�t as
if either of you was any kind of state to answer my questions.�
�You think that was the reason? But it wasn�t real, vixen,� he said with a
frown.
�It was a psychosomatic response, or at least
I think that�s the word. It means that
the body responds to what�s happening in the mind, even if there�s no reason
for it.�
�Psychosomatic . . .� he got a faraway look on
his face. �Designating or of a physical
disorder of the body originating in or aggravated by the psychic or emotional
processes of the individual.� He
blinked. �Yeah, that. Ok.�
Salida laughed softly. �If you had imagined yourself putting the
fire out, I bet the fever would have gone away.�
�Fuck. My
fault then. Sands thought of that, but I
just wanted to get the hell out of there. Damn it. I�m not saying that I should fucking listen to
him more often because that will never fucking happen, but he just might have
been right for once. But seeing as he
tried to kill you beforehand, none of that counts.�
She gently elbowed him. He was one to talk . . . it wasn�t as if he
hadn�t tried anything like that before.
�What? Ok,
fine. I may have tried to kill you . . .
one or two times. It still doesn�t mean
that he was right.�
�No, he was in fact, very wrong. But I�m fine.
The babies are fine. And other
than we�re on the lam, I have no idea where we�re going, and we don�t know who�s
actually after you, I�m very content.�
�Well, that�s something,� he said after a
moment�s silence. �Was there anywhere
you wanted to go?� He almost didn�t want
to ask because of the problems the last time they had such a conversation had
brought up, but he couldn�t help it. That, and they couldn�t go home. They had to go somewhere else. Why not let her choose? It made sense to him.
�Have you or Sands ever considered moving to
another country? There�s countries that
won�t expedite you if you might face the death penalty at home. You�d be safe there for at least awhile.�
�Might
face it? Optimism. I sometimes wish I had it,� he murmured under
his breath. �I�ve considered it. I don�t know if Sands has. But where would we go? I like this country. I speak its language. Of course, I also happen to speak a handful of
other languages, but this one came first.�
�It was just a thought and something the two
of you might want to talk over. In the
meantime however, I�m sure we could manage to get lost here in the states.�
�I understand that. I�ve done it before. But what I�m asking is where. Where would you like to go, Salida? You
were the one who wanted to come to New Orleans
and I�ve effectively ruined that for you. So now, I guess you get to pick somewhere
else.�
�I don�t care, but wherever it is, I think the
two of you should consider using cash as often as you can. I bet that�s how they tracked you down �
through your credit cards.�
Jeffrey closed his eyes at his own stupidity. �Fuck me sideways. You�re probably fucking right. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You�d think I was new at this,� he muttered.
�Sands didn�t think of it either,� she pointed
out, trying to comfort him.
�And that�s supposed to make me feel better?�
he asked wryly. �It doesn�t matter. I should have thought of that. It was a stupid fucking mistake. Of course they fucking tracked us through our
credit cards. Fuck.�
�Well, now that you know, you won�t make the
same mistake again.�
�No, I�ll make brand new ones that will
probably be even worse than this one was,� he said dryly.
�No you won�t.
You love us too much to do that.�
He didn�t even hesitate. He gathered her into his arms and held her
tightly. �Yes, I do,� he answered
simply.
�So you won�t make any more big mistakes and
that�s that.�
�That�s that,� he murmured in agreement,
hoping desperately that that would be the case.
Salida turned in Jeffrey�s arms, not wanting
to get loose, merely wanting to face him.
Once she was, she stroked his face and kissed his chin. �Do you know where we are?�
�In some second rate hotel in the middle of
nowhere Louisiana,� he murmured,
lifting his chin into her touch.
�Why?�
�Because I fucked up and the law took notice,�
he muttered.
She bit him.
�That�s not what I meant and you know it.�
He only smiled at the bite. �Oh really? And just what did you mean, vixen?�
�We were heading west the last I
remember. So how�d we end up back in the
middle of the state?�
�Oh. I
think kitty wants to go visit her fucking family. Don�t ask me. I wasn�t driving. I tried to tell Sands that it was probably a
bad fucking idea, but he won�t listen to me. He and kitty are having some kind of tiff. He�s determined to do this for her.�
�They�re fighting? I didn�t think they ever fought.�
�That�s what I
said. But yeah, apparently they are. It started yesterday I think. Something about her being not fucking happy
about his sociopathic tendencies or some bullshit like that.�
�Well, she is a normal person. To tell the truth, I�m surprised she�s lasted
this long.�
�I guess,� he murmured.
�Well, did you
expect her to stick around this long?�
�I don�t know. She�s kitty. I guess I kind of got used to her,� he said
with a sight shrug.
Salida sighed,
resigned to not getting a straight answer.
�No, I guess I didn�t
expect her to last nearly this long. But
then again, I didn�t expect them to get fucking married either and we all know
how well that turned out,� he muttered, thumbing at the wedding ring firmly
lodged on his right ring finger with a slight scowl. He had once tried to get off, but it was like
the fucker was glued on. He wouldn�t put
it past Sands to do so.
�I didn�t expect
her to last long at all. She�s such a
goodie-two-shoes. Although, now that I
think about it, that�s probably why she�s still around.�
�What do you mean?�
�I bet she can�t
leave. Even if she wanted to.�
�Oh. You�re probably right. If she could, I think she would have done it
by now. But I don�t want to talk about
them anymore, vixen. This is my time. I want to spend it alone with my wife. Not talking about Sands�.�
�Alright.� Salida kissed his chin again. �Anything in particular you�d like to talk
about?�
�Not particularly. Talk is overrated,� he murmured, once more
moving with the kiss. �I�d rather just
be here with my wife, not necessarily saying anything at all.�
�I can do that,�
she whispered, tucking her head under his chin.
�Good,� he said
with a smile, tilting his cheek against the top of her head and bringing up his
hand to stroke her hair gently. This was
nice. This was what he wanted. Well, not exactly; he�d prefer sweaty naked
sex at the moment, but this was not without its merits.
�I forgot my brush,�
Salida said suddenly. She didn�t sound
happy.
�No, you didn�t
vixen. I got it. Along with the combs I bought you,� he
murmured, still running his fingers through her hair.
�You brought them?�
she asked, looking up suddenly. �Did you
bring the shawl?�
He nodded. �It may be a bit wrinkled because I had to
stuff it into a bag, but I brought it.�
�I�m glad. That�s the first real present you ever gave me.�
�I know. Which is why I brought it,� he murmured.
�Thank you,� she
whispered, tears suddenly pricking her eyes for no good reason.
�You�re welcome, vixen.
I wouldn�t have let you forget those
things. They have meaning. I know you would have missed them had they
been left behind.�
�Very.�
�Which is why I
brought them.�
She thanked him
again, then fell silent.
�What are you
thinking about, vixen?� he asked after a few minutes of silence had passed. His arm was begging to grow tired from rubbing
her hair, but he paid it no mind.
�What did you
bring?�
He thought about
it. �As much clothing as I could pack,
my knives and gun, and my toothbrush.� He frowned. �I wish I could have brought one of my suits. Just one. I can�t stand the thought of some fat cop
putting his doughnut-sticky hands all over them.�
She laughed. �A suit?
You?� And then she remembered
their dinner out, and that he�d bought her that jewelry. She�d liked the bracelet.
�After all the
trouble I took to get them? Fuck yeah.�
�I forgot the
jewelry you gave me,� she told him softly.
He closed his eyes
at that with a sad frown. �I�m sorry,
Salida. I should have thought about
that.�
�It�s alright,� she
sighed. �We couldn�t bring everything
anyway.� Then she remembered that she
hadn�t remembered to grab even one of
the silk scarves from their first night together, and she burst into tears.
�Shh, don�t cry
Salida,� he asked her softly as he held her in his arms. �We�ll get new things; make new memories. You�ll see. Everything will be alight.�
�B-but the
sc-scarves,� she sobbed. �From . . . from
Boston . . .�
�They don�t matter,
Salida. They were only scarves. What matters is that we remember what they
were used for.� He tried to smile.
�B-but they were
the only things we h-had from the beginning!�
�We still have
these, Salida,� he said softly, reaching down to bring her left hand up in his
and show her the matching tattoos. �We
will always have these.�
�But I liked the
scarves.�
�I know you did,
vixen,� he said sadly.
Salida cried for a
little while longer, but eventually calmed herself down. Tears wouldn�t bring back the things she�d
left behind. They only made her tired,
hot, and blotchy.
�I�m sorry, Salida.
So very sorry. This is my fault,� Jeffrey said softly.
She shook her
head. �It�s no one�s fault. It was going to happen eventually.�
�If that�s true,
then I should have planned for it better than simply packing up and leaving as
soon as we could.�
�That car was in
front of our house for nearly a week,� Salida whispered. �Surely all the fault doesn�t lie with you.�
�I�m the reason it
was there in the first place, Salida. Not
you.�
�I don�t want to
argue about this. It doesn�t matter
where the blame lies. What matters is
what we�re going to do next, and what we�ve learned from the mistakes that led
to this.�
�Alright,� he said
with a soft sigh, not really wanting to argue either. God, he was fucking tired but he refused to
sleep. Sleeping meant giving up this
time alone with his wife. He didn�t know
when he�d get another chance like this. He
didn�t fucking know anything anymore.
�Is there anything
that you forgot? Besides a suit?�
�Probably,� he
murmured. �The pajamas you got me,� he
said with a frown.
�I grabbed half of
them,� she whispered, feeling a bit better now.
He�d saved some of her things, and she�d saved something of his.
�Thank you,� he
murmured, absurdly grateful for such a small thing as pajamas. He was about to say something else when his
throat closed up on him and he paled dramatically. �Oh god. No, I couldn�t have.�
�Couldn�t have
what?� Salida asked, looking up at him.
�I forgot our
wedding photo. Our only wedding photo,� he said despondently, not believing it.
�That�s okay,� she
assured him. �I didn�t like it
anyway. Now with that transvestite and
its boy-toy in the background.�
�But it was ours,�
he said softly. �Ours. And I forgot it.�
�We�ll get a better
picture taken. You�ll get a new suit,
and I�ll get a dress, and we�ll go have one taken.�
He nodded slowly,
not quite up to saying anything yet. It
was as if he had forgotten his marriage altogether.
�And it�s not as if
we really had it displayed.� She didn�t
like the lost look on his face. �Really. It�ll be okay.�
�I knew where it
was. I knew, and still I left it,� he
murmured, not really hearing her.
�Jeffrey, listen to
me,� she pleaded. �It�ll be alright.�
�But . . . I forgot
it. I forgot you. One thing to remember. Just one, and I fucked it up. You�re practically all I think about but that
didn�t matter. It won�t be alright. It can�t.�
�You didn�t forget
me. I�m right here, lying beside
you. That�s what matters. That we�re all here, and we�re all safe. Your family is safe.�
�Is it?� The question was asked causally, but the look
on his face as he asked was anything but.
�Yes.�
She cupped his face in her hands.
�I�m here, and you can feel
how well your � our � children are
doing.�
The look he sent
her seemed on the brink of tears that she either couldn�t see or he refused to
let fall. �I�m sorry, Salida.�
�What are you sorry
for? Pictures don�t stand the test of
time anyway. This, what we have, what we�re making . . . that�s what matters.�
He looked up and
away from her, blinking a few times before looking back down at her. He let out a long shuddery sigh and nodded as
best as he could while she held his head in her hands. �This is what matters,� he repeated softly.
�Yes,� she assured
him, kissing his face.
�What we have, what
we�re making,� he repeated further as if trying to solidify it in his mind.
�You, me, our children.�
He nodded, leaning
forward so that their foreheads met and closing his eyes. �That�s what matters.�
�Pictures can be
replaced. We can�t.�
�Never,� he agreed
softly.
�So you don�t need
to beat yourself up, because you got what was truly important.�
�Alright.�
�Do you believe me?�
�I believe you,� he
murmured, still leaning against her with his eyes closed. �You and our children are safe. That�s all that matters.�
�Yes . . . it is.� She kissed his cheek. �How do you feel about breakfast?� she then
asked in a complete turnaround of what they�d been discussing.
�Breakfast?� he
asked in a disbelieving voice, opening his eyes and turning his head slightly
to look at the clock on the bedside table over her shoulder. �Vixen, it�s almost four in the morning.� When she didn�t seem too phased by this, he
sighed a little and nodded. �Alright. It�s not like I�m going to be getting any
sleep tonight. Breakfast it is.�
�No . . . that�s
okay,� Salida sighed. �I bet the cafe
downstairs isn�t even open yet. Do you
know if Grant really brought some food with her in her bag?�
�She said she was
going to, didn�t she?� he murmured. �It�s
on the table in her room,� he said with a slight nod of his head at the door
that connected the two rooms they had gotten for the night. �But I�ll go with you later if you still want
breakfast, vixen.�
Salida thought
about it for a moment, then decided that food wasn�t as tempting as not moving
from her husband�s side. �We�ll go
later,� she agreed, snuggling down in the blankets and pillows.
�Whatever you want,�
he murmured, closing his eyes again as she moved against him. �I�m glad you�re staying. I didn�t want you to get up. You�d steal all the blankets,� he murmured
wryly.
�I don�t do
that. Do I?�
�No. But you could
have,� he said with a half-smile, pulling her close. �Actually, I just didn�t want you to get up.�
�I don�t steal the
blankets at night?� she asked, just to make sure that she was clear on this.
�Even if you did,
which I�m pretty sure you don�t, I would just steal them back so don�t worry
about it, vixen,� he murmured, kissing the tip of her nose gently.
�Oh . . . Well I�m glad I don�t.�
�Why? What difference would it make?�
�Because it would
bother me if you did it, so I don�t want to do it either?�
�Oh. Do I steal the covers, vixen?�
�No. Not often.�
She turned her face down so she wouldn�t see the tell-tale smile that
appeared whenever she was lying to tease.
�Not often, huh?�
he asked wryly. �So that means I do it
sometimes. Like, say now for example?� Taking a firm grip of the covers, he started
to pull them off of her when she got a good grip of her own and held on tight. �A woman who holds on to her covers. I admire that,� he drawled. �Ah well. I concede defeat. I won�t be stealing the covers tonight or any
night in the future, because it is definitely
more fun being under them with you warm together than being warm alone but
hated and reviled because I�m a cover-stealing bastard,� he said with a heavy
dose of melodrama. �I�m not sure I could
face such a life as that.�
Salida giggled and
pressed her face into his neck. It was
nice just to be like this.
�Ahh, you�re a
brave girl associating with the likes of me, the dirty cover-stealer. But I�m trying to reform, I really am. I�m down to just blankets. The sheets are safe, I swear it.�
She laughed again
and wrapped her arms around his waist. �It�s
the blankets that keep people from freezing though,� she teased.
�Oh,� he put on a
deeply shocked face. �Does that mean I�ve
been doing it backwards all these years? Should I have tried to give up the blankets
first? Dear me, a year of sheet
detachment therapy down the drain. Not
to mention the book I had to get; Cover Stealers and You: Are you Left Out
in the Cold? That was a good one,�
he said wryly.
�Well . . . as long
as you keep me warm, I suppose I�ll be patient and supportive through your
rehabilitation.�
Jeffrey grinned at
her. �You�re a good wife, Salida.�
�What are you
talking about?� she sniffed, turning her nose up in the air. �I�m the perfect
wife.�
His grin only
widened. �Yes you are. Absolute perfection in every way.�
Reassured, Salida
returned her face to his neck. The room
was only dimly lit, and in his arms she felt safe and content. It was almost absurd how he could make her
feel this even when things obviously weren�t
A-okay, but when he was with her, circumstances didn�t seem so bad.
�I love you very
much, Salida. I�m glad you�re here with
me, right now, despite everything else,� he murmured softly into her hair as he
held her.
�Where else could I
go?� she asked. �You�re my husband. I said it, I promised; in sickness and
health, in good times and bad. If I let
you go without me, what kind of good times would I ever be able to have?�
�I don�t know, and
I�m glad I don�t have to find out,� he murmured closing his eyes once more so
that he could concentrate on the smell of her hair and the sound and feel of
her breathing against his neck.
�Once we�re well
and truly hidden away,� Salida yawned, �you or Sands should call the bastards
that made us leave. Tug their tails a
bit. It�s not like they can trace a cell
phone after all.�
�Mmm,� Jeffrey
responded, not opening his eyes and not really hearing her at all.
�It�d be fun,� she
assured him as her eyes drifted shut. �A
good way to relieve some stress.� Then
an evil thought occurred to her. �You
could even let me talk to them.� In a
high falsetto she said, �. . .and if I
upset him, he straps me to the bed and fucks me �til I�m hoarse with screaming
. . .�
�Yeah. Sounds like fun . . .� he murmured. �Wait . . . what?� Jeffrey asked, opening his
eyes wide to look at her. �What did you
just say? Something about a horse? Fucking a horse? You�re trying to mess with me while I�m tired,�
he murmured with a rueful look.
�You haven�t been
listening to me,� she accused.
�Apparently not. What have you been filling my head with, you
naughty little vixen? Do you whisper to
me in my sleep about vivid but physically impossible fantasies? Because you should if you don�t,� he murmured
with a slight stretch and a yawn. �I�m
listening now. I�m all ears.�
�I said that once
we�ve settled somewhere, you and/or Sands should call the bastards that made us
leave. And then give them hell for it.�
�Oh,� a devious
grin made it to his face slowly. �I love
my wife. She has all the best ideas,� he
said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. �Damn it though, now I want to call him right
now. You�ve gotten me feeling all exited
and devious and definitely not tired anymore. Oh, the possibilities.�
�Now probably
wouldn�t be good if Grant wants to visit her family. I can just imagine what�ll happen if her parents
see your face on America�s
Most Wanted or something. Wouldn�t that be fun to explain. Not to mention I don�t think she�d understand
if they had to be killed off to prevent them from going to the police with what
they know.�
He sighed. �Fine, fine. You�re right. No calling up old enemies tonight,� he
murmured. Salida thought she actually
heard him mutter a petulant �not fair� under his breath, but she couldn�t be
sure.
�Soon.
Once we�re out of the state. It
should be safe then, especially if we lay down a trail for them to follow. Like if we buy plane tickets for Bermuda
then drive to New York or
something.�
�Alright,� he
murmured, still sounding disappointed.
�You know it�s
better this way,� she murmured. �You�re
too impulsive at times.�
�Being impulsive is
more fun. It�s all the waiting around
for things to happen that�s not.�
�If we went to
sleep, we wouldn�t really be waiting, would we?�
He sighed. �But I don�t want to sleep now. I want to stay awake and . . . plot.�
�Can I sleep?�
�But who am I going
to plot with if you�re asleep?�
�Rouse Sands. A bit of plotting might cheer him up.�
Jeffrey snorted. �I don�t want to plot with him. I don�t want to talk to him. Besides, he�ll just be fucking irritable that
I woke him up and that doesn�t necessarily make for good plotting.�
�I thought you said
that the two of you made a good team.�
�At times. At others we just argue about stupid things
about whether to maim first then kill or kill first then maim. It�s a preference,� he murmured offhandedly. �Things like that. We usually end up agreeing to disagree.�
�Fine. Do I still get to sleep?�
He sighed. �I guess. Do you still want breakfast later?�
�Later,� she
agreed, nudging him with her shoulder a bit so that he was half lying on top of
her.
�Settled?� he asked
when she had apparently situated him where she wanted him. It wasn�t a bad position to be in really. He liked the feeling of her breasts pushing up
against his chest.
�Mmm-hmm. Very comfortable.�
�Ok fine. Sleep. Plotting
tomorrow,� he murmured, leaning down to kiss the side of her neck a few times
before whispering a goodnight against her skin.

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

Aida hadn�t quite managed to get dressed yet. She was sitting on her bed in her underwear,
half distracted by the thought of seeing her family without her wig, and half
wondering where her husband had gone.
Not that she blamed him for leaving, not after all the things she�d said
to him the night before.
But those things needed to be said, she
tried to argue with herself even as she knew that there had probably been a
kinder way to get her point across. She�d
been feeling hurt and pressured, so she�d reacted poorly. An apology was probably in order, but she
didn�t know when �
Without warning or
preamble, Sands moved in through the connecting doors in a pair of boxers, his
hair hanging wet around his shoulders. �I�m
just coming to get a shirt,� he murmured. �I�ll be out of your way in a minute.�
�You�re not in my
way,� Aida replied softly. �I was just
thinking that I might be in yours.�
He stopped what he
was doing and stared up at the ceiling, the shirt he had come for balled up in
his hands. �That�s not true, Aida.�
�Well, it�s how I
feel. After all, you need to have your
mind clear and focused on what we need to do next, and I attack you . . .� she
sighed. �I attack you in ways that aren�t
totally fair. I know you love me,� she
said before he could interrupt. �It�s
just that you love me in your own fashion, which is as unique as you are. And if you say that you are trying to behave
in a way that would make me happy, that you�re doing what you can to keep from
upsetting me, then I should accept that.�
�You�ve told me you�ve
accepted things before, Aida,� he said softly.
She swallowed, and
tried not to get upset. �Are you saying
that you don�t believe me then? You don�t
think I�ll make an effort to understand how our relationship works?�
He bowed his head,
his hands falling at his sides. �I�m
sorry, that wasn�t fair. No, I believe
you.�
�Then you don�t
think I�ll succeed.�
�That�s not �� he turned to look at her, his eyes filled
with intermingled sorrow and grim acceptance of the inevitable. �Don�t listen to me. I�m not making any sense,� he murmured,
looking away from her again.
His eyes scared her
though. �You don�t think we�ll make it,
do you?�
He shook his head. �I don�t know what to think. I�m a recovering pessimist, remember?� he said
with a smile that almost managed to look pained.
�But you doubt it.�
�I don�t want to,�
he said almost too softly for her to hear. �I want things to be like they were. But that isn�t possible any longer.�
�Yes it is. They can,� she said desperately. �It�s just going to take time.�
�Aida, I�m a wanted
fugitive on the run from the law. That�s
not ever going to change. As for the
rest? Us?� he turned to look at her
again, his eyes bearing his soul to her now without anything in between. �I love you so much, Aida. I don�t want to lose you.�
�I don�t want to
lose you either.� Holding her arms out
towards him, Aida trembled with anxiety for his decision. Would he come to her, or would he need time
to think and leave?
Sands wavered,
initially mistrusting the gesture and remaining where he was. Does she
really mean it? Will this change
anything or will she just remember all over again tomorrow just what I�ve done and
hate me again? He didn�t know. How could he know? He turned to leave, not able to stand seeing
her like that when he wasn�t sure of how he felt.
He froze, a step
away from the door when he saw her arms drop to her side dejectedly out of the
corner of his eye. The look on her face
had him moving to her even before he was fully aware of it. He didn�t stop until he was holding her frail
body as tightly as he could without hurting her. �I love you, Aida. I love you so much.�
She kissed him, and
wrapped her arms around his neck, desperate to keep him from leaving her. He�d been about to, and she couldn�t take
it. She didn�t want to be alone. Not now.
All she wanted was reassurance that they were going to be okay. That someday
they�d be okay.
�I�m not going
anywhere, Aida,� he gasped after she had broken off the kiss. �I�m with you.� He picked her up into his arms and she wrapped
her legs around his waist. So joined, he
walked to the bed and sat down on the edge, pulling her down so that she was
sitting on his lap. �See? I�m right here.�
She didn�t want to
see. She wanted to feel. With that thought � that urge � in mind, Aida
kissed her husband forcefully, desperate for any kind of reaction from him.
He felt the
desperation in her kiss and responded in kind. This was good. He needed this. Time with his wife spent lost in each other�s
passions and telling the world to go fuck itself for awhile. His hands moved across the bare skin of her
back and deftly unhooked her bra, still moving upwards before moving back down
again. He just wanted to touch her. He needed to.
Without breaking
the kiss, Aida pulled away and pulled her bra off her arms. She then pushed against his shoulders with
all her weight, wanting him to lie down under her.
He could have easily
gotten his way if he had so wished for all of her weight wasn�t as much as it
used to be anymore, but he did what she wanted him to, some part of him knowing
that she probably needed this as much as he did.
Once above him,
Aida held Sands� face in her hands, demanding that he kiss her how she
wanted. His hands were free to roam
though, and roam they did; over her back, hips, thighs, shoulders,
breasts. Pulling away briefly as she
gasped for breath, she purposely shifted her weight until she could feel the
ridge of his erection pressing against her.
Trembling, she held that pose, her hands still in his hair, forcing him
to look up at her.
He didn�t want to
admit it to himself, especially not now, but as he looked at her, he was
searching her eyes for doubt; for hesitation. For some sign that she was going to wake up
any second now and realize that she was intent on having sex with a murderer. He searched. And he found nothing but love reflected back
at him. He knew she still must have her
doubts, but they weren�t here now, and that softened him more than any word
from her lips ever could. �I love you,
Aida,� he said very seriously, meeting and holding her gaze without
reservation.
His words
inexplicably made her start to cry.
Sobbing, and with tears running down her cheeks, she kissed him again,
this time searching instead of demanding.
Inviting instead of invading. All
she wanted to do was remind herself of who her husband was. Of who he made
her, and of who they were together.
�Shh, don�t cry,
Aida,� he said softly, kissing the tears off her cheeks and chin. �You�ll get me all wet,� he said with a small
smile. He looked over her slowly; from
the top of her bald head over her too thin body to the tips of her pale legs
and tiny little feet entwined with his. �You�re
beautiful. Exquisite,� he said very
seriously. �Even if you�re crying as you
kiss me, each tear is like a piece of rare crystal, and I treasure each and
every one.� His hands began moving over
the lines of her body, leaving her where she was on top of him, but pushing her
to sit up a little � and consequently twitching at the pressure on his arousal
� so that he could continue touching her in places only a lover would know to
touch; places that made her quiver and gasp, expanses of skin that tasted
divine under the right circumstances, and spots that he simply liked to touch. He
paid keen attention to them all, not wanting her to lack for anything right
now. She was his and she was to be
cherished and protected and loved above all. So that was what he did.
�I love you,� she
murmured between gasps and whimpers. �I
love you, I love you, I love you . . .�
Her hands moved to his shoulders so she could brace herself; her eyes
slipped shut so that her body could fully focus on the attentions of his
hands. This man � this generous,
thoughtful, adoring, patient, loving, attentive man � was who she�d fallen in
love with. And he was always here, no
matter what else he did or was.
�If you love me,
then love me,� he murmured, moving one hand down her side and hooking a finger
inside her underwear and tugging it down as best as he could while she was
sitting on him while the other massaged and squeezed at one of her breasts.
Aida got up on her
knees and helped with her own underwear before divesting Sands of his. Then without further ado, she slipped down on
him, her breath catching in her throat at the sheer sensation of it.
�Ohh,� Sands moaned
inarticulately as she engulfed him. There
was no sensation like this. Nothing
could ever hope to compare. This was the
woman he loved and she knew how to please him just as he knew how to please
her. His hands moved to her hips and he
began to move with her in the timeless rhythm of two people coming together in
a flurry of passion, need, and love for the other. He opened his eyes from their half-closed
slits and looked up at her, wanting to watch as she moved above and around him,
feeling himself growing even more aroused even as he watched her.
Aida gazed down at
him for a few minutes before she threw her head back and concentrated on the
movements of her body. She wanted them
both to come � now � and then she wanted him to hold her in his arms. Accordingly, her hips sped up until he was
bucking under her and she thought she�d permanently have the marks of his
fingers embedded in her skin. And it
still wasn�t enough.
Sands was beyond
coherency by now, but he knew what he wanted, and that was her. He needed to touch her. He needed to watch her. He needed to . . . ohhhh
. . . he needed to fuck her. Right
fucking now. His wandering hand
moved southward from her breast, landing on her clit as his other hand kept
pulling at her as they moved. His own
hand got crushed between their bodies as he couldn�t stop himself from thinking
clearly enough to stop one or the other action as his fingers danced over her,
striving to bring her to release as soon as fucking possible. He wanted to watch as every muscle in her body
went tense at that high peak of desire, feel her quiver and contract around
him, and watch her spine bow backwards as she arched against him before growing
limp and falling against him, the perfect little contented grin on her face. He wanted to see it now.
Aida arched and
cried out at his rough touch, but it still wasn�t quite enough. Gripping him firmly with her knees, Aida rose
up, and them slammed herself back
down, bucking as she was suddenly overwhelmed.
Her release sobbed out of her as she jerked and bowed until finally she
collapsed onto her husband�s chest like an overcooked noodle. Breathing heavily, her hands searched over
him, looking for a place to comfortably come to rest. Her head had landed just where it was meant to
be though; right over his heart.
He had come right
along with her, hook, line and sinker. She
had held him in the palm of her hand, dashing him against the rocks. Sweet fuck, he wanted her to do it all over
again. Later. When he could at least breathe properly again.
That might be a slight necessity. His chest heaved as he attempted to reclaim
his breath, her head bobbing up and down on him as his lungs sought more air. There were no words yet though, only his arms around
her and hers around him. That was more
than enough.
Unwilling to break
the safety of their silence, Aida simply focused on the sound and rhythm of Sands� breathing. As long as neither of them spoke, they could
just exist. There would be no fighting, no hurt feelings,
no disappointments. There was just the
two of them.
Sands in the meantime,
was more than happy to let her simply lay her head on his chest and listen to
him. He was just content to be so close
to her. Feeling the warm, sweaty embrace
of skin on skin after making love was something he had always enjoyed. And the silence afterwards wasn�t so bad
either. Generally because it was then
that his mind was truly silent. If only
for a little while. That was more than
enough.
The temptation to
simply fall asleep to avoid difficult conversation was strong, especially after
all the energy she�d just spent. They
were things they were going to have to talk about eventually though, like how
long they were going to stay at this hotel, and when they�d go to visit her
parents, and how long they�d stay, and �
�What are you thinking
about, spitfire?� Sands asked softly, feeling her tense slightly against him.
�Too much. My brain is refusing to comply with the rest
of my body.�
�Yeah, brains are
tricky like that,� Sands murmured, his
own thoughts speeding along a mile a minute as well. He didn�t know what to think. Did this mean that everything was ok between
them again? He wasn�t so sure. But he didn�t want to think about such
thoughts now any more than she did. He
simply pulled her a little closer and attempted to clear his thoughts.
�Blanket,� she
murmured, lazily stretching her legs down as she tried to hook a bit of the
sheet with her toes.
Sands nodded
slightly and took ahold of her, sitting up in the bed a little so that she
could reach down and grab the blanket where it had bunched up around their
feet. Once she had grabbed it, he laid
back down on the bed, frowning a little as he encountered a nice damp spot
where his wet hair had been dripping on the pillow. He did his best to ignore it, and watched his
wife as she resettled herself under the blanket but still on top of him.
�Do we have to wake
back up?�� she asked in a voice that made her sound half asleep. �Can�t we just stay in this dream forever?�
�This isn�t a
dream, Aida,� he murmured softly, looking up at the ceiling. �Nor a nightmare. Only real.�
She sighed. �I suppose that�s alright. Dreams have to end eventually. Life is what you make it.�
�I guess.� Then I
made this life. No one else to blame. Only me on the block when the blade�s falling.
�Don�t,� she
whispered. As his wife, she had some
idea of what he was thinking. �I�ve made
my bed, laid in it, and I�m willing to make it again.�
�Is that what you
really think, Aida?� he asked softly, trying his best not to put anything but
innocent curiosity behind the question. He didn�t want to upset her, but he wanted to
know. He needed to know. Otherwise,
why the fuck was he even doing here? But
that was bullshit. He would do
everything he could to keep her even if she didn�t feel the same way.
�I�m not going to
pretend that I�m not upset about having to leave my life behind. You�d see through me if I tried. But I�m also not going to give up. Not yet. I want to give you and our marriage all I have
before I admit defeat . . . and I�m not even close to having used all my
strength yet.�
He gave her a small
smile at that, not knowing how else to express his gratitude for her
assurances.
�That wasn�t really
what I was thinking about earlier though,� she admitted.
�What were you
thinking about then, Aida?� He couldn�t
help himself from asking the question, hoping he wouldn�t regret it.
She laughed grimly. �My parents.�
�Oh.� He frowned a little at her tone. �But I thought you wanted to go see them, Aida?�
�I do. I miss them. That doesn�t mean I�m not the least bit
apprehensive about seeing them.�
�Oh. I guess I can kind of understand that,� he
said with a slight lift of his shoulders.
�We should probably
stay here for a day or two, shouldn�t we?� she asked some minutes later.
Sands thought about
it. �Probably. But not too long though.�
�Just long enough
to find out what�s making the rounds of the radio and news stations?�
He nodded, giving
her a weak smile. �Pretty much.�
�Well, I suppose
that gives us all time to get some stuff we need. I managed to forget my toothbrush, and . . .� Aida trailed off, unsure of how her husband
would react.
He frowned. �What else did you forget?�
�My wig,� she said
softly.
His frown deepened
he looked up and away from her. �I�m
sorry, Aida.�
�I know you didn�t
like it. Even though it was my hair to
start with.�
�I know it was, but
I don�t know . . . it�s like, it was a mask or something you know? Not real. Ironic coming from me, I know, but that�s just
how I felt. That doesn�t mean that I�m
not sorry you left it though, Aida. I
am.�
�I just don�t want
them to know how sick I really got.�
�Why?� he asked
gently.
�Because I had
chances this time, and last time to tell them about the cancer . . . and I
never have.�
�Oh. Well who says you have to tell them anything,
Aida?� he asked with a slightly confused frown. �That�s your business. Not theirs.�
�They�re going to
see me, and they�re going to know almost exactly what happened. Perhaps
they won�t think �tumor� but they will think �cancer� and then the entire visit
will be strained because they�ll be trying to nurse me and I�ll be turning them
down because I�ll feel guilty for not telling them three years ago.�
He cursed softly for her sake. �But you still want to go?�
�Yes.�
�Alright. I was just making sure,� he murmured with a
long sigh he moved his hands to her bare back under the blanket and
unconsciously began to run his fingers over her skin, still staring up at the
ceiling in thought.
�Just a few days?�
she asked. �I know you probably don�t
want to go at all . . .�
�No, it�s alright. I�m curious to meet them if nothing else.�
�What�s your
definition of �meet�?� she asked wryly.
�I don�t know. Why? Do
you think they�re going to interrogate me like they tried on the phone?�
�I think that�s a
given, yes.�
Sands sighed. �I suppose I expected that.�
�Don�t worry. I have faith in your ability to sweet-talk
them.�
Sands smiled at her
and bowed his head. �I�ll do my best.�
�Then I suppose
neither of us has anything to fear from a short visit. A new son-in-law is ever so much more
interesting than a daughter.�
�I wouldn�t know. I�ve never been one before now.�
�You�d best
practice then while you take us shopping.�
�Practice what? And when do you want to go?�
�Practice being a
charming son-in-law. And I�m nowhere
close to wanting to leave the bed yet.�
�And how exactly
does one practice that, spitfire? And I
guess I�m not ready to leave either so you don�t have to worry about that yet.�
�You can practice
on charming me,� she offered.
�Who says I ever
stop practicing on you, my love?� he asked with a smile.
�Three points,� she
said teasingly.
�Only three?� He made a thoughtful sound. �Perhaps I do need more practice then.�
�Lots more
practice.� Rolling a little, Aida moaned
as her body finally pulled away from her husband�s.
�Where are you
going? You were keeping me warm,� he
teased a little after he had adjusted to the sensation on being separate from
her once more. He didn�t like it. He never did.
�See, now that wasn�t
charming.� Turning her head, Aida
brushed a kiss along his cheek.
�It still earned me
a kiss though,� he murmured with a smile, moving to accommodate her so that her
head was resting on his shoulder.
�Nah . . . that was
just pity.�
�That wasn�t a pity
kiss. That was an �I love you, Sands you
make me laugh� kiss. Believe me, I know,�
he said wryly.
�Okay, so you�re
right. I bet you think you�re smart now,
huh?�
�No. I think I�m charming,� he said, his grin
widening.
�That wasn�t a �I
love you because you�re charming� kiss,� Aida disagreed. �That was an �I love you even though you tell
corny jokes� kiss.�
�Oh. Well, I guess that�s something.�
�It�s proof that
you need to bone up on your charming skills.�
�Oh fine. I guess I�ll just have to practice then.�
�And I suppose I�ll
have to suffer as your patient instructor.�
�I suppose. But I�ve only got a few days, so I�ll either
test that patience or I�ll pass. What do
you think?�
�I think I should
like it very much if you�d practice on me.�
�Oh you would, huh?
Well, I suppose I can arrange that, wife
mine,� he said, gently kissing her forehead as he did so.
�I think I�d enjoy
that.�
�Good. I like doing things for you, spitfire. I like making you happy.�
�Will you buy me
another wig?�
He frowned a
little, but nodded. �If that will make
you happy.�
�Just for the visit.
I�ll let you burn it afterwards if you
wish.�
He considered this.
Burning her wig sounded incredibly
cathartic at the moment, so he nodded. �Deal.�
Aida just shook her
head. �I�m starting to get itchy.�
�Itchy? What do you mean, spitfire?�
�Dried sweat, plus
sensitive skin . . .�
�Ah. Shower or just get up?�
�Shower.�
�Alright,� he said,
letting her go so that she could get up. He had just taken one himself a little while
ago, but there was no way he was going to say no to another with his wife.
�Are you going to
be charming and offer to come scrub my back?� Aida asked as she slowly pulled
herself upright.
�Of course I am. It will be a pleasure,� he said with another
bow of his head as he sat up next to her.
�Are you going to
be charming and offer me your arm as I toddle into the bathroom?�
�You wouldn�t even
have had to ask,� he assured her.
�Getting better,�
she drawled. �I�d say that�s a five. Keep working on this and you should be up to a
ten by this evening.�
�A fair goal, to be
sure,� he said as they got off the bed together and he offered his arm like he
said he would. �Come on, my beautiful
spitfire. Your shower awaits.�
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More Than Darkness