CHAPTER 7: THREADING ALONG...

The moment Chance and Eros walked into the Observatory, they were greeted by a quick flash of stainless steel. Both Aspects stood frozen in their tracks. A few wisps of hair gently floated towards the ground. Slowly and carefully, Chance and Eros let their eyes wander to their left. There stood the black cloaked figure of Death, skull and all. The Grim Reaper grinned devilishly at them and snapped the blade of her scythe back into its sheathe with a click. Only then did Chance and Eros let out a huge breath and relax a little.

“Geeezzzz! You nearly took my head off there, Reaps!” Chance exclaimed.

“Boy oh boy oh boy oh boy,” Eros shook his head as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Reaper reverted back to her original form and grinned at them with a gleam in her eye. “You guys are in a whole load of trouble. Spyda’s been waiting for you to get back.”

Eros stole at glance at Chance and pulled a face. Chance just shrugged and wrapped his arm over Reaper’s shoulders. “Reaps dear, so what else is new?” he laughed as they walked towards the lounge.

Spyda was waiting for them when they walked in. Chance and Eros looked at each other sheepishly. Chance smiled at the angry Aspect of Fate and plopped himself down on the sofa. Eros, on the other hand, avoided looking at her and instead steered himself towards the drinks cabinet to make himself something strong. Reaper glided over and joined him.

Spyda glared at Chance. “You think it’s funny, don’t you?” she asked in an irate tone.

Chance just grinned mischievously at her.

“Yes, you really think it’s funny,” Spyda sighed. “I’ve told you countless times that the threads are not to be messed with. But each time, you stick your dirty fingers in. Remember Samson and Delilah? Romeo and Juliet? Jack and Rose? Nothing good has ever come out of it. Don’t you guys ever learn?”

“And, it also means extra work for me,” Reaper added.

Eros opened and closed his mouth, no words coming out of it. Chance continued with his silly grin. “I just know this time it’s going to be different,” he said confidently.

“That’s exactly what you said all those other times,” Spyda rolled her eyes.

“Come on, Spyda. Let up, will you? I’ll take care of these two, okay? I promise. I won’t neglect them like I did the others...” Chance pleaded.

“Those same words again...” Spyda sighed.

“No, really. Ask Eros, he knows I’ve been observing them,” Chance looked towards Eros for support.

“Errr...” Eros mumbled as he tried to think of something to say. “Errr...yeah, Chance has been keeping an eye on them.” Then under his breath, he whispered, “I think...”

Reaper glanced at Eros out of the corner of her eye. Eros pulled a face which told her not to say anything. She grinned and shook her head but kept quiet all the same.

“Sometimes I wonder why I even bother talking to you. Whatever I say just goes in one ear and out the other,” Spyda complained.

Chance chuckled. “That’s cos you just love me so much. You and I go together, baby.”

“Uh huh, somebody give me a pole,” Spyda said in exasperation.

That night, Ellen sat up in bed wondering about her sudden change of heart. What is wrong with me? There’s no way I like that...that...Neanderthal. Ughh...just the thought of it makes me want to pu...actually no, I don’t really feel like puking. But my heart is pounding so fast it feels like it’s about to burst out from my chest. Arghhh! What’s going on? I can’t like him. I can’t like him. I can’t like him. I can’t like him. Okay, okay, calm down, woman. Just go to sleep. Everything’s going to be alright the next morning. This is just a bad dream and you’ll wake up forgeting all about it. Yes, good, good, Ellen consoled herself as she slid down and pulled the covers over her head. Five minutes later, she flipped them off again. Arghhh! She sat up and shook her head. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even when she closed her eyes, he would appear right before her, grinning stupidly at her. I’ve got to do something about this, she thought. Ellen jumped out of bed and rummaged through the videos. Ah, here it is. Taking the tape, she popped it into the VCR player and turned on the TV.

“Okay, ladies. Let’s tone those thighs. One and two and three and four...”

Ellen jumped up and down, following the instructor on the TV. If this doesn’t tire me out, maybe I’ll just knock myself unconscious, she sighed.

“Honey, my shoulders are sore,” Natasha cooed. “I’ve been shopping all day.”

Michael absent-mindedly put his hands on her shoulders and started to massage them.

“Ouch!” Natasha screamed and slapped his hands away. “That hurt! What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Michael snapped out of his reverie and was rather surprised to see Ellen sitting in front of him. “Ellen?” he asked.

Natasha frowned. “Who’s Ellen?”

Michael shook his head violently and blinked a couple of times. Slowly, Ellen changed form and became Natasha. He continued to stare at her, his brain not having registered what his eyes were seeing.

“Who’s Ellen?” Natasha asked again. This time, more firmly.

“Errr...” Michael mumbled. “Ellen. Errr...she’s the one on TV. You know, the sitcom? The lesbian?” he quickly recovered.

Natasha looked at him suspiciously. “And you were thinking of her?”

“Oh, I was just remembering something from the show,” he waved his hand nonchalantly. “Nothing important.” That seemed to pacify her and Michael breathed a sigh of relief.

Natasha wrapped her arms around him and planted a kiss on his lips. Michael returned the kiss eagerly and imagined himself kissing Ellen instead. No, stop! He quickly broke the kiss and rudely pushed her away.

“What the!” Natasha exclaimed.

Damn! What’s up with me? It’s Natasha, not Ellen. Natasha, Natasha, Natasha. Ellen is nothing but a...a...beautiful and intelligent woman. No! What am I talking about? That’s Natasha. Not Ellen. Ellen is a cave woman! Oh, who are you kidding Michael? You can’t stop thinking about her, he sighed.

“Michael!”

“Uh, Natasha,” Michael looked at her, searching for a plausible explanation to his behaviour. “Erm...Sorry, but I’ve got a headache...”

“Hrmph!” Natasha fell back in bed with a huff, pulled the covers on and turned away from him.

Michael sighed, laid back and stared at the ceiling, his mind very obviously somewhere else. With a smile, he closed his eyes. That night he dreamt about a Neanderthal male clubbing a Neanderthal female on the head and dragging her by the hair all the way back to his cave.