I gave one last look in the mirror, approving of what I saw, and turned around to leave my apartment. My good buddy Chris had just phoned me, inviting me to an impromptu get together at his home. I hadn't seen him in a few months, and missed his goofy grin and the sunshine persona that surrounded all who knew him like a warm blanket.

I had first met Chris Jericho through a mutual friend of ours about a year ago at a Christmas party. His sunny nature and free laughter appealed to me, and we bonded almost immediately. We laughed and joked about our very different musical tastes, debated politics, and discussed seemingly anything and everything under the sun. I hadn't realized that the party had gone by so quickly and before we knew it, hours had passed in the blink of an eye. Before leaving the party, Chris told me that he was a professional wrestler, which I found to be intriguing. I tried to pick his brain about his profession of choice, only to have him cut me off with a good-natured protest, saying that he had to be up early the next morning for work. We agreed to meet one another for coffee at my favorite bookstore the following weekend, and had a wonderful time together. Chris was a great guy - full of life, love and fun. We became fast friends through the course of a year, and I became his confidant and tried to give him advice about his somewhat turbulent love life.

Through Chris, I met another good friend, Matt Hardy. Both Matt and his brother Jeff worked with Chris, and shortly after I befriended Chris, they came into my life as well. I felt a strong connection to the two of them, particularly with Matt. For a younger guy, he had a positive attitude and a great handle on what was important in life. I told him that he had the soul of a poet, and the quiet and introspective side of my nature responded to that. Both he and Jeff were very sweet and a lot of fun to be around. We went a few places together and often hung out with Chris when he was having one of his infamous get togethers. Matt and Jeff often joked with me, asking me to introduce them to some of my friends, albeit younger ones. They began to refer to me as their big sister, and I came to enjoy that role very much.

Arriving at Chris' place that evening, I knocked on his door only to hear the strains of unfamiliar music, a new addition to his musical collection surely just purchased on a recent trip to Japan. Chris opened the door, his smile lighting up the entranceway.

"Heya babe! How've you been?" Enveloping me in a warm embrace, I was crushed to his chest and coughed loudly in protest.

"Let me up Jerky Boy! I can't breathe! Ya got enough cologne on?"

"You know that I don't wear cologne, you haven't been here two seconds and you're already busting my chops…"

Smiling brightly up at him, I brought his head down and placed a kiss upon his cheek. "I'm sorry Chris, but I missed my partner in crime."

Smiling down at me, he ruffled my hair lightly while I tried to knock his hand away. "I missed you too, sweetie!"

Turning around to get a good look at the crowd, I scanned the faces, most of them unfamiliar to me. Looking at Chris, I asked him who most of the people in the room were. "Be patient, I'll introduce you. Ready?"

Nodding my head yes, we dove into the crowd, Chris easily maneuvering himself through the ten or so odd people that filled up his living room. I then proceeded to be introduced to several hockey players for the local team, a few college students, and some musician friends of Chris. Chris had always been a frustrated rock star at heart, and together we both shared a strong passion for music - just different types.

After meeting the unfamiliar faces, I turned to ask Chris how my favorite boys were doing - Matt and Jeff. He told me that they would be in town the next day, and would stay overnight after the show. He asked me if they could stay with me and I told him sure, that I knew he was short on space and I had an extra bedroom. Besides, I could put them to work helping me with my latest project at home. Chris rolled his eyes and chucked me under the chin in response.

After sitting around for about twenty minutes chatting with Chris' friends, I made my way into the kitchen to get something to drink. Holding my glass of water, I ducked through the dining room, walking towards the balcony doors. Sliding them open, I walked out onto a small balcony, letting out a soft sigh of relief. I had always loved the view from here, especially at night. On clear nights the stars were so close, that I swear I could almost reach up and pluck one out of the sky. Walking over to the railing, I relaxed against it and tilted my head back, letting the soft evening breeze gently kiss my face.

Standing quietly for a few moments I reflected on my paper that was due for my writing class on Monday morning, two days away. I loved the class, and my current assignment was to write an argumentative essay on a topic of my choosing. I had decided to debate the artistic merits of Sandro Botticelli versus Raphael. Renaissance art had always been a passion of mine.

Focusing on a distant light, I began to discuss out loud different points to be made in my paper. Botticelli's "Birth of Venus" and the wonderful lithe beauty of the woman's figure and gentle curve of her face. Compared to this Raphael was…

"Much superior."

Turning around in surprise, I saw a figure lounging indolently on a chair in the darkness, feet propped up against the table. The figure then leaned forward, the light from inside revealing a tangled mop of shoulder length curls, snub nose and full lips. His eyes were still shadowed, so I was decidedly at a disadvantage.

"You were saying sir?"

Turning his lips upwards in silent laughter, he cocked his head to the side and laughed softly. "Raphael's work was far better than Botticelli's."

Walking towards him, my interest piqued, I pulled a chair up to the table and straddled it, facing him. "Mystery guest, the night is still young - and already you wish to begin a debate? The topic being Renaissance art? Might you be biting off a tad more than you can chew?"

Laughing aloud, the man nodded his consent. "Oh yes, please - tell me - are you capable of maintaining a semi-intelligent conversation? I'm so tired of meeting chicks that have a 100 word vocabulary and whose reading is confined to Vogue magazine."

Blinking into the light, I raised an eyebrow at the partially shrouded figure. "Sir, I can more than hold my own - the question is - are you worthy of my efforts?"

Leaning forward, the man finally revealed himself to me. Holding out his right hand, he shook mine firmly. "We shall have to see. My name is Raven and you are…?"

"Gabrielle. How do you know Chris?"

Blinking at me in a somewhat startled fashion he replied, "I used to work with Chris - we became buddies and intellectual brothers."

"Aahh…" I said, a smile lighting up my face. "Is that what they call it nowadays?" Tilting my head back, laughter rolled from my throat. "Jerky Boy is surely unique - he's a great guy."

I then proceeded to take in the apparition that was before me. Riotous curls framed a face that was masculine and full of silent strength. Deep brown eyes gazed back at me with mild curiosity and my eyes flittered up to take in the bar that pierced his eyebrow. His nose was strong, his lips full and generous. His black leather jacket creaked softly as he moved to lean forward onto the table. A breeze lifted the subtle scent of leather and deodorant soap in my direction. Quietly, he questioned me. "How do you know Chris?"

"Well, we met about a year ago, through some mutual friends. We try and get together when he's in town, and find some way to wreak some sort of mild havoc with one another."

Smiling, he said "Are you ready for the debate Gabrielle?"

Leaning forward and licking my lower lip, I nodded yes. "I was born ready, kind Raven - the question is, are you? Which painting would you like to discuss first? What do you feel about the political climate of the Florentine state that contributed to the rise and later fame of the artists that we know today?"

Cocking his head to the side, he began his spiel. "Well, sticking to the original topic, I feel that Raphael had much more potential than Botticelli ever did. The work that he completed in his short life, the potential that was unrealized, clearly indicates that he would have been an artist to surpass any other during that time period."

Shaking my head, I disagreed. "Raphael's work was wonderful; particularly his "School of Athens" - and yet, Botticelli let his work stand on its own merit - he didn't have to resort to dirty pool with the Pope to squeeze out the competition."

Laughing, Raven smiled at me. "You don't mince words, do you Gab? Are you referring to Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel?"

"You know I am - let's see how you weasel out of this one my new friend…"

Sitting in semi-darkness, Raven and I then proceeded to debate about other significant artists of the Renaissance. Our topics weren't solely confined to art however, and soon turned to philosophy, literature, and the merits of Russian poetry versus the romantic verse of Byron, Keats, Shelley and others.

Turning around to see who was coming out through the slider, I saw Jerky Boy himself popping into the darkness to join us. "Hey guys - there's a light out here you know!"

Flipping on the switch, he plunked himself down between Raven and I. Turning towards me, he said, "I'm sorry Gabbers - forgot to introduce you to my friend Raven."

Nodding towards Raven, I turned to Chris. "We already made each other's acquaintance. He seems like a nice enough guy, even though he's way off in his artistic appraisal of…"

Guffawing loudly, Raven shook his head and rolled his eyes upward in resignation. Chris nudged me and told me that Matt had just phoned him a few minutes before, saying that he and Jeff would be at my place after the show tomorrow night. Smiling, I told him that I looked forward to seeing my two buddies again. Chris then turned to Raven and proceeded to explain that my place frequently served as a home away from home when our mutual wrestling friends were in town. Chris then asked Raven what time his show was scheduled for.

Turning to Raven I said, puzzled, "Show? What show? You have a show?"

Laughing Chris replied, "Yes he does - he and I used to wrestle for the same company, now we're in separate ones - but we still keep in touch and see each other when we can. We've been friends for a long time now."

Looking back at Raven I said apologetically, "I'm sorry - I didn't know that you were a -"

"It's okay - it's kind of nice to remain anonymous sometimes and enjoy an interesting conversation with a beautiful woman."

Blushing hotly, I looked away and rolled my eyes in Chris' direction. "He's quite the charmer, your buddy. You should stick with him, Chris - then your love life wouldn't be quite so tumultuous."

Grasping me into a gentle headlock, Chris proceeded to give me a "noogie" and screeched loudly "I told you not to tease me about my love life!"

"You mean the lack thereof?" I teased back, gently tugging on his goatee. "You worry too much Jerky! Just relax and it'll happen - in the meantime, don't put your life on hold. Just enjoy yourself and the female companionship that you're so fortunate to have at this particular moment in your life…"

Laughing, Chris rose from the chair and headed back inside. "Hey you two - are you coming? You've been out here forever! Be social for a change!" With that, he shut the door and left us to our own devices.

Turning to Raven, I told him that I was going inside because it was getting cold. He removed his jacket, handing it to me silently over the table. Putting it on, I surrounded myself with the scent of leather and man. Asking him if he would be cold, he nodded no, saying that I could keep him warm if he became chilly. Raising an eyebrow at him, I snorted in mild derision and told him that I wasn't a groupie.

Laughing, he replied that he hadn't meant it in that way, that he would occupy his mind so that he wouldn't concentrate on physical discomfort.

We remained outside talking with one another for another hour or so before I told him that I needed to go home. I explained that I had a paper due on Monday that I hadn't yet started, and I had to get up early to clean house and prepare for Matt and Jeff's arrival. Following me back inside, we both noticed that most of the crowd had left, leaving only a few friends to keep Chris company.

Walking towards Chris, I thanked him for a wonderful evening, and told him that I hoped we could do it again soon. He told me that he wanted to get together the following weekend and go ice-skating. I told him no, that I had never been skating in my life and was in the possession of zero amount of coordination. He smiled and replied that he would change that. He then asked if I would be going to see the wrestling match the following evening, and I told him not this time, as I was overloaded with homework.

Walking me to the door, he gave me a hug and told me that it was good to see me again. I pinched his nose and told him to behave himself. Grasping both sides of my face, he leaned forward and gave me a light peck of a kiss goodbye. I told him to call me about the plans for next weekend and we'd make arrangements.

Turning to leave, I suddenly remembered Raven and walked back towards him, with his jacket in hand. Smiling, I held out my hand and told him that it had been nice meeting him. Pulling me to him, he hugged me lightly and told me that he hoped someday to pick up our conversation where it had left off. I told him that I would look forward to that, and that the next debate could be about the subject of his choosing.

Arriving home, I went to bed and got up early the next morning to clean house. With the cleaning out of the way by noon, I settled onto my computer to begin typing my paper. When the doorbell rang hours later, I opened up the door to see two of my favorite people. Smiling in unison, they came into the living room, dropping their bags and each hugging me warmly in turn. I looked at each of them closely, remarking to both that they looked exhausted. I told them that dinner was ready whenever they were, and after taking showers they joined me for a late meal. We teased Jeff about his new girlfriend and spent a little bit of time catching up on news. I asked them how long they would be in town, and they told me that they had to leave tomorrow evening. We went to bed soon afterwards, after deciding that we would catch a matinee the next day.

The next morning I awoke and read quietly while waiting for Matt and Jeff to join me. After hearing the first sounds of stirring, I started breakfast, and I soon heard them spilling out of their room as the smell of bacon, eggs, muffins and coffee wafted in their direction. Finishing the fruit salad, I placed breakfast on the table and reached over to ruffle both of their sleepy heads while laughing at them. After a leisurely breakfast, we lounged around for a few hours before leaving for the movie.

After the movie, I drug the boys to my favorite spot on the planet, Barnes and Noble. I left them and quickly skittered off to get myself a cup of café mocha, and then proceeded to dive into the history section. Kneeling down to peruse some unfamiliar titles, I heard a soft laugh and looked up to see none other than Raven looming overhead.

"Fancy meeting you here, Gab."

"Hey there! "Are you a history buff perchance?"

Helping me up, he said that he had particular areas of history that he enjoyed, some more than others. His fingers suddenly reached up and brushed some whip cream from my upper lip. I offered my coffee cup to him, and he drank deeply. Walking towards the poetry section, we perused the titles together and yet again debated the merits of Russian poetry. I turned to him and told him that I enjoyed Russian poetry because the dark and despondent images at times mirrored what was happening in my thoughts and consciousness.

Nodding to me, Raven picked up a book of Anna Akhmatova's work and proceeded to flip through the pages. I told him that I had a book of her poetry at home, as well as some other favorites. I then confessed to being a book junkie, and he laughed in response. He told me that in his experience women usually spent money on jewelry and clothing, and I told him that he was hanging around with the wrong women. He smiled at me, shaking his head.

Before much time had passed Matt and Jeff found us, both apparently ready to leave. I turned to introduce them to Raven, and discovered that they already knew each other, albeit on a casual basis. Raven asked me for my number, saying that maybe he would give me a call in a few days to do something while he was still in town. I gave him my number and waved goodbye, leaving with Matt and Jeff to go home.

Arriving home I said goodbye to Matt and Jeff shortly afterwards, dropping them off at the airport. I told them to give me a call when they could, and stop in and see me when they were in town next. I missed them already.

A few days later, my phone rang one afternoon and it was Raven calling to see if I'd like to take a bike ride with him. After giving him directions to my place, he arrived soon afterwards, an extra helmet in tow. Hopping onto the bike behind him, we roared off into the afternoon sun, heading out of town. Cruising around with no particular destination in mind, we eventually stopped at a shady grove, getting off of the bike to stretch our legs for awhile. Walking into the nest of trees, we heard the trickling of water and saw a small stream below. Climbing down, we settled ourselves next to the stream on a cushion of moss, looking around at our surroundings. Sunlight filtered through the ceiling of leaves, casting spotlights here and there. Frogs sang to us, and birds chirped intermittently overhead. Reaching into my jacket pocket, I pulled out an apple, taking a large bit before offering it to Raven. Smiling in thanks, he took the apple from me, and we sat peacefully for several moments sharing our snack and the beautiful surroundings together.

We talked for a few hours, the conversation flowing easily between us. He told me about some of his hobbies and passions, and what meant the most to him in life. I listened quietly for awhile, letting him open himself up to me and thereby giving me a glimpse into his world. He talked about wrestling, and how even though he enjoyed it, his time was gradually coming to an end. Like any other part of yourself that dies, that death gives birth to a new part of your being. He spoke of the wear and tear on his body, and how he knew that it would have to come to an eventual end.

Looking intently at his features, I reached forward and removed the sunglasses from his face. Reaching my hand up, I delicately traced several scars lacing his forehead with my fingertips. I felt his warm breath on the inside of my wrist as he spoke of his scars and when and where they had occurred. Taking off his leather coat, he leaned back against the large rock that was supporting us. Looking closer, I let my eyes wander over the numerous tattoos that decorated his flesh. Seeing my curiosity, he pointed to each inking in turn, explaining what each meant to him and how it marked a different phase or event in his life. Looking at his arms and legs, I admired the artistry that was forever a part of him. I then looked at the bar piercing his eyebrow, remarking on how painful that must have been. He looked at me with serious intent, telling me that often only through pain something worthwhile is won. I told him then that I admired his pain tolerance, but I was somewhat of a ninny. He asked me if I had any tattoos, and I shook my head no.

Glancing up at him, I smiled suddenly, a confession on my lips. I had always wanted to get a tattoo - I'd had a design in mind for years now, I'd just never had it done. When the time was right, maybe I would.

Glancing at his watch, he rose to his feet, extending a hand out to me. Walking back up the embankment, we made our way over to his bike. "Do you have any plans for tonight Gab?"

Shaking my head no, we then zoomed back onto the open road, soon afterwards stopping at a Mexican restaurant. Raven mentioned that he wanted a bite to eat, and thought this looked like a nice place to have dinner together.

Entering the restaurant, the hostess directed us to a table at the back of the room. We each ordered soon afterwards, our food arriving shortly. Diving into our dinner, I remarked with pleasure at the tastiness and fresh crispness of the tacos that were my dinner. Raven scarfed his meal, obviously quite hungry. After finishing a taco and starting in on my refried beans, I offered my remaining taco to him. He bit into the crispy shell with zest, his strong white teeth flashing in the soft light. Sipping my iced tea, I observed our surroundings while Raven finished up his meal. The waitress soon appeared offering dessert, which Raven perked up at. Ordering both fried ice cream and an apple-cream cheese chimichanga, I laughed, telling him that it was a good thing that he stayed active with an appetite like that.

After our dessert arrived I took a bite of the fried ice cream, only to push the remainder to Raven. Looking up from his dessert he teased me, "Surely you're not finished! This chimichanga's great! Try some! You're not one of those women who's paranoid of a little dessert are you?"

"No, I'm paranoid about very little in life, as a matter of face. However, I have to be careful with my carbohydrate intake as I have diabetes. But I will try a bite of your chimichanga, okay?"

After tasting a bite of the proffered chimichanga, I left the remainder for him to finish up. Leaving the restaurant after our meal, we drove off towards my place, arriving awhile later. Sitting on opposite couches, we discussed current events over coffee. When my phone rang, I left Raven in the living room while I answered it, keeping the conversation short. Walking back into the living room, I noticed Raven glancing over my book collection, his fingers lightly skimming over several volumes.

"I see you found my book collection."

"Indeed I did…but I don't think you have enough of them," he teased me.

"You haven't seen the rest in the guest room - that's the other half of my collection." His eyes widening at me, he then turned his attention back to my medieval and renaissance history section. Selecting a book, he sat back down on the couch, flipping through the pages. Looking up at me suddenly he pointed. "Hey Gab - it's here - I told you - look at this print of Raphael's School of Athens."

Rolling my eyes I sat beside him, flipping the book a few pages over to Botticelli's Spring. "Look at this - Botticelli was a master! Look at the soft lines of beauty that compose her face! And the Three Graces as well! He painted women like no other!"

Chuckling, Raven glanced closer at the artwork and then flipped back to his beloved Raphael once more. Realizing that I would not win this battle, I selected my own literary piece and sat back, both of us reading in silence for awhile, comfortable in each other's company without benefit of conversation. Looking up at the clock, Raven stretched and said that he had to go. I walked him to the door, a question suddenly popping out at him. "Raven? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure - what's up?"

"What's your real name?

"Scott Levy."

"Oh - okay - but you prefer to be called Raven?" Shrugging, he replied, "That's what most people call me nowadays, so I'm used to it. It's a nickname that I've had for a long time now."

Opening my door, he turned to ask me if I'd like to see him wrestle the following evening. Telling him that I would, he gave me the time and place of the event, and told me who to contact about getting a backstage pass. I told him that I'd see him the next night.

The next evening I arrived at the sports arena, looking for the office that would have my backstage pass. After picking it up and receiving directions from a security guard, I headed off towards the back of the building, stopping at the door to have my pass approved by another security guard.

Walking inside, I asked someone where I might find Raven, and they pointed me in his direction. Walking into a lounge room filled with other performers, I saw him sitting on a couch in the middle of a conversation with another wrestler.

Looking up and spotting me, he smiled and waved me over to his side. He introduced me to a few of his friends. After a few minutes he got up, took my hand, and led me out the door, walking down the hallway to head towards his dressing room. On the way there we were stopped by another wrestler who jokingly asked him who the new floozy was.

Stretching myself up to my full height of 5'4", I looked up at my accuser with an expression of righteous indignation. Laughing, Raven told him that I was a friend of his, not a floozy. Not looking as if he quite believed the story, the man jokingly replied, "Oh sure…" and sauntered off towards the lounge.

Turning to me apologetically, Raven said, "I'm sorry about that - he didn't mean it, you know. You're not a floozy - you don't come close to being one."

Laughing mischievously, I challenged him. "You don't think I could fulfill the role, do you? Hmm? Think I don't have the goods?"

Holding up his hands defensively, Raven smiled. "It's not that - you do - never mind!"

Laughing at him, I tweaked his ear and then let him lead us to our destination. Reaching his dressing room, we entered, plopping down on a couch and watching the house action on a television monitor in the corner of the room.

Turning to Raven, I asked him if he needed to get dressed for his match, and he said no, that he wrestled in his street clothes. A short while later, there was a knock at the door, the person on the other side announcing to Raven that he was up for his match. Raven told me that I cold watch the match on the television screen, without having to go out and mix in with the rowdy crowd. I wished him luck and settled in to focus on the match at hand.

Raven came out into the entranceway, his theme music blaring, his arms held out to his sides in his signature pose. Slowly making his way to the ring, he was followed a few moments later by his opponent, someone named Sandman.

After greeting the crowd with numerous beer toasts, Sandman and Raven began to fight with one another in the ring. Although Chris, Matt and Jeff had already somewhat familiarized me with their sport, I was still somewhat apprehensive while viewing the violence in the ring. The match between the two rivals was a brutal one, with the two of them crashing through a table outside the ring and then hitting one another with large canes. The match finally ended when Sandman picked up a chair outside the ring and cracked Raven twice over the head with it, devastating him. Raven struggled to his feet after the count out had ended, with Sandman declared as the victor of the match. A few minutes later I saw the door to the dressing room open, an exhausted Raven standing there in front of me.

Going over to him, I led him to the couch, standing over him and inspecting the cut that was trickling blood down the center of his forehead. Raven grimaced up at me, telling me that he was used to this by now and that it wasn't a big deal, just a small cut. I promptly shushed him, and rifled about until I located a band-aid and some peroxide. Cleaning off the blood from his face gently, I held the cloth to his cut until the bleeding had stopped. Seeing that the blood had finally clotted, I leaned forward and gently dabbed the cut with peroxide, hearing Raven hiss softly in response.

Leaning down, I blew softly onto the cut to lessen the sting a bit. I then covered the wound up with a band-aid, and sat beside him, making him look me in the eyes to make sure that he was okay. He smiled at me and told me not to worry, and I shook my head as I looked away.

"Scott, I don't know how you do this -does this happen to you all the time? Do you always get hurt in your matches?"

"Yes Gabrielle, sometimes I do - this time was nothing - usually I end up bleeding a lot more. It's not such a big deal anymore - I'm used to it."

Turning towards him, I cupped his stubble roughened cheek with my palm as I said quietly to him, "I'm not talking to Raven right now - I'm talking to Scott, okay? I'm worried about you doing this - how can you take this punishment? What's going to happen to your body? Tell me that it's none of my business if you want, but I'm still concerned. Don't do this much longer - you'll regret it - you're still young, and you don't want to be 40 years old feeling like your body is 70."

Covering my hand with his, Raven told me not to worry, that he was making plans for his future and he wouldn't be doing this much longer. He then told me that he had to leave in a few hours to travel to their next performance.

Getting up after a few moments, he made his way to the shower, returning shortly after, ready for something to eat. Leaving out the back, we walked to my car, deciding on a restaurant to catch a late dinner at. During dinner I told him how much I had enjoyed meeting him, and that I wished him luck in his future matches, with a little less blood.

After dinner, I drove him to the airport, getting out of the car to say goodbye to him. I told him that he was welcome to stay with me if he was in town again, and we would find a new subject to debate. As he hugged me goodbye, I slipped a book into the pocket of his jacket. Looking down, he took the book out to see what it was.

"I thought I'd loan you one of my favorite poets, Pablo Neruda. Compare his writings with your beloved romantic poets of England's 19th century, and we'll discuss this when I see you again sometime. Hang onto the book until then - it'll keep you company and give you some balm for your soul."

Smiling, Raven looked down at me and kissed my forehead. "You're one of a kind, Ms. Gabrielle."

"Likewise, Mr. Levy. Behave yourself."

Waving, he turned around to walk into the airport, and I drove back to my apartment to reflect on my new friendship.

Chris called me a few days after Raven had left town, telling me that he was sorry, but something had come up and he needed to leave town for awhile. I teased him about welching out of our skating date, secretly grateful that I would save my body untold bumps and bruises. I told him to remind Matt and Jeff that he had an extra key to my apartment, in case I was out of town and they needed a place to stay. I wished him luck on his next wrestling foray, and told him to give me a call when he was back in town.

A month passed, and with it came the official start of fall. I enjoyed the crispness of the air that greeted me every morning, and the touches of frost that decorated my windows like exquisite fairy etchings.

My friends Beth and Mary contacted me, inviting me to go out to a nightclub with them the following weekend. I declined, reiterating that I despised loud, crowded, smelly places. They were persistent however, and I gave in after realizing the futility of my fight.

As promised, I drove to the bar/dance club/skank magnet and met my friends outside. Walking inside after paying our cover fee, we sat at a table near the dance floor, much to my disappointment. I kept eyeing somewhat longingly a secluded table in the far corner of the room, feeling that I would be much more comfortable there.

Declining several offers to dance, I tried to maintain a conversation with Mary, seeing that Beth was determined to spend every second out on the dance floor. Shouting at one another over the blaring music, we gave up after several minutes, content to sit back and people watch.

A gentleman that I had just declined to dance with a few moments beforehand made his way back over to our table, the light of persistence in his eyes, and I was sorry to see this. Skulking down somewhat in my chair, he nevertheless spotted me and sat down next to me, much to my vexation. Leaning forward, he whispered something into my ear about the magic of his tequila tongue or something to that effect, and I told him politely that I was sure that he had a nice tongue indeed, but I didn't care to make personal contact with it. Still persistent, he breathed stale beer breath into my face while trying to make the glassy film over his eyes look attractive and bedroom-like. I asked him politely to leave, that my friend and I were having a private conversation and we didn’t want to dance with anyone tonight. Narrowing his eyes slightly at me, he muttered something under his breath about women that were cock teases and lurched up from our table, staggering slightly off into a thankfully distant direction.

After an hour or so I got up to go to the ladies room, and on my way back to the table I suddenly felt a hand reach out and squeeze my left buttock hard. Whirling around, I saw my beer swilling nemesis that had so irritated me earlier sitting at a table with some equally pathetic looking friends of his. Smiling up at me, this guy motioned for me to sit on his lap. When I turned in disgust to walk away, he grabbed me around my waist and pulled me up against him, his head burrowing into my chest. Slapping him sharply on the ear, I wiggled out of his grasp and told him that he would have better luck finding sexual companionship and compatibility with a bar of soap than even the nearest farm animal. Leaving with the sharp laughter and hoots of his friends ringing in my ears, I went back to my table, and told Mary and Beth that I was calling it a night. After I explained the circumstances, they were sympathetic.

Deciding that I needed to stop at the store and that I might as well since I was out and about, I made a quick detour to Safeway and pulled into the deserted parking lot. Noticing that the overhead lighting was minimal at best, I hurried into the store, quickly picking up and paying for my few purchases. Walking briskly back out to my car, I bent over to insert my key into the lock and suddenly felt a sharp pain lance through my scalp. The man from the bar who had grabbed me was suddenly standing in front of me, full of rage and the sting of humiliation.

Standing pressed up against me with my hair wrapped around his fist, he leaned close and kissed me, savagely grinding his lips to mine. Tasting the copper of blood in my mouth, I bit down hard on his intruding tongue. Swearing, he pulled me by my hair while holding his hand over my mouth to the side of the store. Trapped between the wall and a dumpster, he pulled out a pocketknife, and pressed the sharp tip of it into the side of my neck. Reaching up, he grabbed my shirt in one hand, ripping downwards with a savage motion. Grabbing my breasts, he pinched and tugged at them roughly, his rough fingers bringing tears of pain to my eyes. Pressing the knife even more closely into my skin, he popped all of the buttons off of my shirt in his quest to find my soft flesh. Feeling his ragged nails raking down my sensitive skin, I whimpered softly, feeling the blood trickle down my chest from his scratch marks.

Deciding that I needed to fight, I attempted to wrench away from his tight grasp. He then backhanded me several times with his fist, cutting my lip in the process. I could feel my left eye begin to swell shut, and grasped my car keys securely between my fingers. Raising it quickly, I slashed the key down the side of his face with all of my strength, hearing his wail of pain and feeling the knife lift momentarily from my throat in the process. Pushing him away from me, I turned quickly to run away, the back of my head hitting the corner of the dumpster in the process. I ran as fast as I could towards my car, frantically opening the door and locking it immediately. I started the engine, and saw him running towards me holding the side of his face. I peeled rubber out of the parking lot, desperate to escape.

Racing home, I frantically checked my rear view mirror to make sure that I wasn't being followed. I ran up the stairs to my apartment, shaking so hard that I had difficulty inserting the key into the lock. Walking into the darkness, I flipped the hall light on and quickly slammed and locked the door behind me. Sobbing, I leaned against the door and wrapped my arms around my waist.

"Gabrielle?" I heard a sleepy male voice say from the living room. "It's Scott - I just got into town and tried calling you a few hours ago but you weren't home. Chris gave me your key when I saw him in Atlanta after I told him that you said it would be okay if I stayed here when I was in town…"

Quickly flipping off the hall light so that he wouldn't see me, I said shakily, "Hi Scott."

Hearing the rustling of his body rising off of the couch, I turned away to walk into my bedroom.

"Are you okay Gabrielle? You sound strange. Is everything all right?"

Opening my bedroom door, I said loudly, "Yes, everything is fine Scott - go back to sleep - you can sleep in the guest bedroom, you don't have to stay on the couch. I just have a headache and I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

My voice cracking softly, I closed my bedroom door behind me, slowly undressing as I prepared to shower. Removing the tattered remains of my shirt from my shoulders, I stood in my bra and jeans and hugged my cold flesh tightly, sobbing silently to myself. Suddenly hearing the door open, I turned my back to it, standing by my bed. Quiet footsteps padded on the carpet behind me, and large warm hands gently clasped my shoulders.

"Gab - you're not okay - tell me what happened, please."

Shaking, I began to cry, raising my hands up to cover my face. Turning me around to face him, Scott put his arms around me gently, reaching up to softly stroke the back of my head. Feeling something strange, he pulled his hand away, and saw my blood on his fingertips. Wrenching my hands away from my face, he blanched when he saw the bruises and welts that had bloomed across my skin.

"What the hell happened to you? Who the fuck did this to you? TALK TO ME!!" He yelled.

Shaking and suddenly unable to speak, I stood still, staring blankly in front of me. Scott pulled me into the bathroom, lifting me up onto the sink counter. Quickly appraising my physical condition, he gently probed at my head and then parted my hair, looking down to survey the damage. Murmuring quietly that my head was okay, he gently grasped my face in his hands, looking at my swollen eye and cut lip. Reaching over to the towel rack to pick up a wash cloth, he wet it and gently wiped the dried blood from my face.

Pulling back to make sure that the rest of me was okay, he drew his breath in when he saw the deep scratch marks that were covering my chest, drifting down to my breasts.

"Gab, I'm sorry, this is going to sting a little bit, okay?" He then gently dabbed at the scratch marks, cleaning off the blood. Reaching into my medicine cabinet, he pulled out the peroxide, and gently tried to clean the scratches, whispering that he was sorry when I began to quietly whimper in pain. Turning his attention back to my head, he quickly cleaned the shallow cut, and left me in the bathroom while he left to find some ice in the kitchen.

Returning with ice packed in a plastic bag, he wrapped the bag up in a hand towel, and pressed it against my eye. Wrapping my shivering body up in a towel, he sat on the toilet, grasping my hands firmly with his. Softly, he whispered, "Gabrielle - you need to talk to me and tell me what happened to you, okay?"

Very softly whispering so that he needed to bend close to hear me, I told him about meeting my friends at the dance club and then meeting the man inside and what happened before I left the club. I then told him about what had happened in the parking lot of the store. Rising to his feet and holding me gently in the warm circle of his arms while swearing under his breath, he tilted my head back, forcing me to look into his eyes that were now blazing with uncontrolled fury. "Did he rape you Gabrielle? Did he?!"

Whispering no, I told Scott that I wanted to take a shower. He started the water for me, telling me to call him if I needed anything. I closed the bathroom door behind him and gingerly stepped into the shower, feeling the warm water sting my skin. Washing quickly, I stood for a few moments under the water, reliving the evening's events over and over again in my mind, like an out of control movie reel. Suddenly, I remembered that I had dropped my purse in the parking lot along with my groceries.

Shutting off the shower, I wrapped myself up in my robe, shivering violently as I thought of my attacker knowing my address. Scott knocked on the door, wanting to make sure that I was okay. Wrenching the door open, I said that I wasn't, that I had to leave and go back to the store before he found my purse, before it was too late, before…

Scott sat me down on the bed and wrapped one of his arms around me, hugging me tightly. I began to shake as I told him that my purse was in the parking lot, and if he found my address then…

Scott rubbed my back gently, telling me that he would contact the police immediately. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, the police finally arrived, and took my statement.

After trying unsuccessfully to get me to drink some warm milk, Scott tucked me into bed, telling me that he was right next door if I needed anything. I closed my eyes, unable to stop the pictures that kept flashing through my mind. I tossed and turned, reliving the night over and over again in my head.

I couldn't seem to run fast enough, and looked around frantically for my car. Hearing footsteps and then feeling hot breath on the back of my neck, I felt his hand reach out to grab my arm…

"Gabrielle - wake up - you're having a nightmare. It's okay babe…"

Screaming the moment his hand touched my arm, I frantically backpedaled towards the head of the bed to get away from him, my panic-stricken voice pleading for him not to hurt me.

I was shaken abruptly, the haze clearing out of my eyes. Scott was sitting beside me on the bed, his eyes frantically searching mine for some semblance of reason. Looking at him with sudden recognition, I whimpered softly and launched myself into his outstretched arms. Clutching him around the shoulders tightly, I buried my face into his neck, my body wracked with sobs. Shaking uncontrollably, I stuttered to him that I could still feel the man's hands on me and I was cold, so cold, I couldn't get warm. Would never be warm.

Feeling his arms wrap around me so tightly that my breath was taken away, he rocked me slowly back and forth, holding me for time without end. I raised my head to look into his eyes, feeling suddenly weak and ashamed. Whispering to me that it was okay now, that everything would be okay, he gently kissed my forehead. Feeling silly I nevertheless asked him to stay with me, not to leave me alone. Nodding that he understood, he turned off the light and climbed under the covers beside me.

Turning onto my side he spooned himself behind me, his arm around my waist and body pressed up tightly to mine, his nose buried in my neck. He held me until I finally ceased shivering, softly talking about the poetry that he had read from the book that I had loaned him and how beautiful it was. Encased safely in the warmth of his arms, I drifted off to sleep, bad dreams banished whilst we slumbered.

The next morning I awoke somewhat tentatively, slowly reaching through the tendrils of sleep to grasp the lovely consciousness of being cushioned by warm skin. Still half asleep, I instinctively cuddled closer to the source of my warmth, burying my nose into the warm flesh surrounding my face and tucked my toes between lovely firm legs, smiling slightly as I felt hair from those same legs tickling my toes. Reaching beneath a soft cotton tank top, I curled my cold fingertips into a warm muscular chest, feeling a heartbeat flutter beneath my fingers. Sighing in contentment, I cuddled ever closer like a hungry kitten, feeling large arms surround me, holding me securely. The urge to stretch suddenly too great to resist, I arched my body against the source of my warmth, a soft groan escaping my lips as my head suddenly began to throb.

"How are you feeling Gab? Are you okay babe?"

My eyes suddenly opening and feeling fully awake, I realized that I was practically lying on top of my human pillow. Struggling to sit up quickly, I winced at the pain running like a riot squad through my skull.

"Scott, I'm sorry - I didn't mean to, I didn't remember, excuse me…"

Hearing soft laughter, I felt warm soft lips tenderly kiss my unbruised cheek, gentle fingertips threading themselves through my hair.

"Lie there and I'll get you some aspirin, okay?"

My vision impaired by squinting eyelids, I caught a flash of muscular flesh cased in a tank top and shorts stride across my bedroom floor into the bathroom.

Lying back down with a sigh, I felt a hand lift up the back of my head while supporting my body, and I quickly swallowed the aspirin, washing it down with cool water. Feeling a cool wet cloth encase my forehead, I lay back down and tried to retreat from my headache.

Hours later I finally stirred, hearing a voice talking in another room. Slipping into the bathroom to brush my teeth, I quickly changed into a tee shirt and sweat pants as I grimaced at the wonderful display of color that was streaking across my face. Surely almost every hue of the rainbow was represented in this monstrous collage.

Walking somewhat gingerly into the living room, I nodded my head at Scott and received a smile of greeting as I walked over to the stove to heat up some water for a cup of tea.

"Yeah - okay - hey - thanks a lot - I really appreciate this. I'll be in touch. Later."

Leaning against the stove, I turned around to see Scott striding into the kitchen. "Morning - how's your head? Are you feeling better?"

Looking away, I shielded my left side from him so that he wouldn't look at the mess that was my face. I mumbled that I was okay.

"Let me see your eye." Tilting my head up to meet his gaze, I kept my vision focused on the wall as I fought to maintain some semblance of dignity. Feeling somewhat foolish about my display of weakness last night, I avoided his gaze for several moments.

Grasping my chin, he gently forced me to look him in the eye. "Don't hide from me okay, Gab?"

"Okay," I said softly. I thanked him for his care and concern. I then asked him who he had been on the phone with.

"Oh - that was the office. I made arrangements to take a week off from work - I need a break. Would you care to join me?"

Somewhat surprised, I looked up at him from my tea mug. "Join you? Where? I have school right now, classes and commitments that require my full attention. I can't leave right now."

"Okay Gabrielle, let's talk about this. You went through a terrible ordeal last night, and for all we know, the man who attacked you could have your address right now. Don't you think it would be smart to lay low for a little while? Just take a break from things and give yourself a bit of a breather?"

"Scott, where are you going?" I asked him. "Are you staying here in town? Going somewhere else?"

"I thought that we could head to the hills for a bit," he said, laughing at my expression of surprise. "I have a cabin in Vermont, a small place that I go to once in awhile to get my head straight and get away from people for a change. I thought it might be a change for you, that's all. I was planning on going there in about another month anyway, but now I'm just stepping up my travel plans."

I told him that I would need to check with several of my teachers, and make sure that I wouldn't be missing any crucial exams or assignments while I was gone. After confirming that I would be okay as long as I didn't miss more than a week of classes, and thinking about it for awhile, I told Scott that I was game for the travelling plans. We left later that afternoon, leaving my car at the airport and flying out to our destination.

Picking up a rental car from the airport, we drove for a few hours, winding our way up numerous hills and retreating further into the inky blackness of the night. I drifted off to sleep, lulled by the hum of the motor and the warmth inside the car. After awhile, I was shaken lightly by Scott, letting me know that we had arrived at his cabin.

Taking our bags inside, we plunked them down inside the living room. I took a look around, spotting a small and simple kitchen, a cozy living room area, a bedroom, a bathroom, and a small study. Feeling exhausted, I told Scott that I wanted to go to sleep right away and would unpack the next morning. I asked him where I was to sleep, and he told me the bedroom. He said that he had a portable mattress that he could plunk down in the study or in front of the fireplace, claiming that he had always kept unconventional sleeping habits. I wasn't sure if he was merely being polite or sincere, and was too tired to question him. I bid him goodnight, and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The next morning I awoke to the unpleasant realization that I was freezing. Creeping out of my bedroom door, hopping over the cold floor, I made my way to the bathroom to take a shower, and hopefully get some semblance of warmth into my body. Turning on the water, I stepped inside the shower, sighing in pleasure as the warm water began to seep some of the chill from my bones. Looking around inside of the shower while enjoying the feeling of the water beating down upon my skin, I grimaced slightly, thinking that it was high time for a thorough cleaning. I finished my shower, drying off swiftly while shivering from the cold.

Heading out into the living room, I saw the embers glowing in the fireplace from the previous fire that Scott had lit late last night. Stoking the fire, I added a few pieces of wood, getting some warmth gradually back into the cabin. Wondering where Scott was, I walked by his room, pausing at the door when I heard some light snoring coming from the other side.

Deciding to leave him alone so that he could get some more sleep, I made my way around the cabin, deciding to clean the place up a bit. I was even able to locate some coffee, which had seen fresher days from a whiff at the grounds.

A few hours later, after the bathroom had been freshly scrubbed, the cabin's interior dusted and the floor swept, I drifted over to pick out a book from the selection on the shelf in the living room. Plopping myself into a chair, I scanned through a Stephen King book that had been among the most promising literary entertainment on the shelf. It seemed as if the book selection was narrowed down to horror and science fiction, and I never did enjoy sci-fi. I kept my attention focused on the book in hand, "The Shining." One of my favorite Stephen King books, I reflected on the fact that he seemingly had gone off the deep end when he had written "Rose Madder". I thought that his earlier work was the best.

I heard the door to Scott's room open a few hours later, and a sleepy "hello" was mumbled as he headed off to the shower. Coming out to join me in the living room awhile later, he looked grumpy and tired. I asked him if there was a store nearby, or if we were completely stranded out in the boonies, because we were short on food and other supplies. Cocking his eyebrow at me in mild amusement, he said that I was getting into this back woods vacation mode indeed. He said that there was a store a few miles down the road, and that we could go there later to get some food. I told him that he also needed some cleaning supplies, and was out of bleach and ajax, as well as desperately needing a new toilet brush.

"Toilet brush?" He turned to me, laughing. "Do I seem like the kind of guy who would buy that?"

"Apparently not," I told him. "When's the last time you cleaned?"

"This place? Picked up stuff or cleaned the bathroom in particular?"

"Never mind - I don't want to know. We should probably leave soon because I'm starving, and it looks like you cold use some decent coffee, unless you'd care to sample some of the swill that I managed to eke up this morning."

Leaving for the store within the hour, we drove down the road and came across the place and I got out of the car, list in hand. I turned to Scott and asked, "First things first - who's doing the cooking while we're here? Are we sharing?"

Smiling at me somewhat sheepishly, Scott replied, "Uh cooking - you know, I can actually make a pretty decent breakfast but as for the rest, I …well, I was hoping that…"

"That's what I thought. Okay - let's go."

A little while later we left the store, groceries in tow. Back at the cabin I put everything away, groaning somewhat when I saw the condition of his refrigerator. Sighing, I managed to scrounge up some baking soda, which I added to a bucket of water, and proceeded to wipe down the inside and outside of the refrigerator and freezer, throwing out several things in the process. Thankfully, there weren't any overt science projects in the making for me to deal with.

While Scott sat reading in the living room, I began to mix up some ingredients to make a loaf of bread, setting the dough by the fireplace to rise for awhile. I then started on a batch of beef stew, taking the time to make out a menu for the week so that I wouldn't have to worry about dinner day to day. Scott walked into the kitchen during this flurry of activity, laughing at my list and cleaning projects.

"Hey Gab - don't tell me - you're a Virgo, right?" ,p> "Yeah - how did you know? What gave it away?" I laughed at him.

"I'm a Virgo too - only a bit more on the messy side I guess."

We discovered that our birthdays were 9 days apart, and that he was 5 years older than I. While the stew was simmering and after I had placed the bread in the oven to bake, we sat down, chatting for awhile. I asked him about his family, and if he had any contact with them and how often he saw them. Telling me that his father had recently passed away and that he and his mother weren't close, he shared that he had an older sister that he saw occasionally. He began to tell me about his childhood, and about the lack of love and attention that he felt he received from his parents, and consequently blamed them for. Listening quietly, I let him talk and open himself up to me. I asked him if he got together with his family during the holidays, and he told me no. I said that his sounded like a lonely life, and he looked away from me for a moment, retreating into himself.

Taking the cue to allow him to have some space for a little while, I wandered into the kitchen and removed the bread from the oven before checking on the progress of the stew that was bubbling cheerfully on the stove. I left the cabin for a little while and walked around outside, enjoying the crisp clean air and the beauty of being surrounded by nature for a change.

Coming back inside the cabin, I told him that the stew was finished whenever he was ready to eat. Settling down in a chair by the fireplace with another Stephen King book in hand, I heard him walk over and sit on the couch.

"Gabrielle, you asked me about my family, what about yours?"

I looked up at him, shrugging my shoulders. "What about them?"

"Are you close with them? Do you see them often? Where do they live? Brothers and sisters?"

"I have a brother who lives in Los Angeles, and we rarely see each other or have the need for conversation. We're not close - our parents divorced when we were young, and we grew up apart. My father lives in California as well, and I rarely have contact with him. That's about it."

Leaning forward, he pulled a gold chain out of my shirt so that the pendant was lying exposed, the picture engraved on the gold visible. "Who's this?"

"That's my mom."

"Where's she? Do you see her a lot?"

Shaking my head, I nodded no to him. "She's dead. She died a year ago."

Seeing that I wasn't comfortable talking about this subject, Scott laughed at my choice of reading material.

"I see you found my somewhat meager literary stash - do you like Stephen King?"

"Some of his earlier stuff - before he went off the proverbial deep end. You have some of his best work here, so I'm not complaining."

"There's a small used bookstore in town if you'd like to go tomorrow - it'll give you a chance to see if you can find anything worthwhile."

We passed the remainder of the evening in peaceful companionship, having dinner and then perusing his somewhat eccentric musical collection. He told me that he always kept a stock of music on hand, but the bulk of his collection was elsewhere.

Sitting next to the fireplace listening to the Tracy Chapman cd that I had brought along with me, we talked quietly about childhood memories, sharing with one another some of our darker moments. He told me that he was wary of trusting people, as he always seemed to be used for one thing or another. He preferred to keep to himself, and felt that he was better off without permanent companionship. Asking if that's why he was single, he nodded yes. He said that he needed someone who would truly care for him, sharing themselves with him and accepting him for who he was, warts and all. I told him not to shut himself off from the world, and also that I didn't know exactly what he'd been through as a child, and therefore wasn't in the position to cast judgement on him or the choices that he'd made with his life as a result.

I told him that we all carry baggage from childhood and previous experiences in life, every person's experience individual and some a whole lot worse than others. We could however be in control of how we reacted to certain events in life, and choose whether or not we would let another person be in control of our future and happiness. There were always going to be exceptions for this, but at some point you had to take control of your life. I shared a poem with him that was one of my mother's favorites, called "Comes the Dawn."

"After awhile, you learn the subtle difference

Between holding a hand, and chaining a soul

And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning.

You begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts,

And presents aren't promises.

You begin to accept all your defeats

With you head up and your eyes ahead,

With the grace of a woman, and not the grief of a child.

You learn to build all your roads on today,

Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans,

And futures have a way of falling down mid-flight.

After awhile, you learn that even sunshine burns

If you ask too much. So plant your own garden,

And decorate your own soul,

Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure,

That you really are strong,

That you really do have worth.

You learn, and you learn.

With every goodbye, you learn."

My voice breaking slightly on the last words, I took a moment to compose myself before sharing with him how much I missed my mother, and how much her death had devastated me. Smiling at him somewhat sadly, I told him that I was going to call it a night.

I left Scott sitting in front of the fireplace, resting his arms on top of his knees as he stared somewhat pensively into the flickering flames of the fire. Seeing his shoulders shake a bit and hearing a painful sigh, I left him alone, knowing that he had some thoughts that he needed to work through by himself. I gave him the gift of space.

The next morning I awoke early, and lay in bed for several moments while gathering my thoughts and listening to the crackling of the fire in the living room. Throwing on my sweat pants and Scott's flannel shirt that I had stolen the previous evening, I made my way out into the living room, sitting down by the fireplace, holding out my hands to the flickering flames to warm them. Drawing my knees up to my chest, P pulled the flannel shirt over my legs.

"Morning," said a voice over my shoulder.

"Good morning back at ya," I yawned, stretching my hands high above my head.

"I was wondering what happened to my shirt," said Scott. Turning around to grin wryly at him, I laughed and muttered, "Sorry - but I've always loved flannel and I couldn't resist - this shirt must be an oldie because it's so soft, and those are the best kind. Don't leave that leather jacket of yours laying around, or I'll steal that too."

"It wouldn't fit you, just like that shirt doesn't."

"Hey - I know that - but I've always had a reputation for stealing clothes from men whether they fit me or not. Chalk it up to one of my more charming…"

Snorting loudly, Scott sat up on the couch. "I see how you are now. Klepto queen, eh?"

"Yeah, I guess. So what are we doing today? Aren't we going to the bookstore?"

"Yeah - we'll go after I sleep for a few hours. I haven't gone to sleep yet."

Raising my eyebrow at him, I shook my head. "Well, take a nap then will you? Aren't you tired?"

"Yeah, I think it's time," he yawned, getting up off of the couch. "I'm going to sleep in the bed okay?"

"Sure - help yourself."

Walking into the bedroom, Scott drifted off to sleep, and I resumed reading the book I'd picked up the previous evening. After staying in the living room for awhile, I decided to lie down for a bit, and crept into the bedroom to see if Scott was awake. Seeing him sprawled over the right side of the bed, I decided that there was room for me, and lay down beside him, plumping the pillow up beneath my neck and reading for awhile. Getting a bit sleepy, I set the book down, and curled up on my right side on the edge of the bed. Drifting off to sleep, I awoke awhile later to the realization that something heavy was lying around my waist. Looking down, I saw Scott's arm encircling me, and felt the curls in his hair tickling the back of my neck in time with the rhythm of his breathing. Shifting my position slightly, I felt him cuddle closer to me again, and after lying there for awhile thinking, I slowly went back to sleep once more.

At some point in my nap I turned onto my back, and Scott laid on his right side against me, his head pillowed on my breast, his arm back around my waist and his leg thrown over mine. Waking up slowly, I felt the warmth of the sunlight streaming through the window above us, weaving patterns of pale gold over the comforter. Turning over to look at the clock, I saw that it was noon. Attempting to rise out of bed, my efforts were thwarted when his arm tightened around me and he snuggled closer, softly growling his objection into my ear. Laughing softly, I fished my book off of the nightstand and read quietly, stopping at times to look at the outline of his features in sleep. He looked so peaceful lying there, almost vulnerable. I looked at the highlights in his hair that were brought out further by the morning sun, thinking that his hair was always either held back by a bandanna or perpetually hiding his eyes. I wondered how he stood it sometimes - maybe he hid behind his hair, and it served as a curtain of sorts to block out the world at times for him. It would drive me nuts though.

Looking down at his face, I noticed a bump on the upper left side of his forehead. Gently bringing up my fingers to explore the area so that I wouldn't waken him, I softly felt the bump, wondering if it was a souvenir from one of his more brutal matches.

"That's been there for a long time now," he said, his voice muffled into the flannel of his shirt that I had been wearing. "I can't even remember how I got it."

"How long have you been awake?" I yawned at him.

"For a little while now," he said, his voice husky from sleep.

"You little faker," I laughed at him. "I've been waiting for you to wake up so that we can get our day started and go to that bookstore…"

"Books!" he growled at me. "Is that all you think about? I'm comfortable right now, and you're serving as a nice warm pillow."

My stomach chose that moment to make its presence felt, growling into the quiet of the room. Laughing, I clutched myself, "I guess I'm hungry as well. When's breakfast?"

Rolling away from me to get out of bed, I watched Scott as he stretched his arms high over his head while perched on the edge of the bed. Rolling his head around on his neck slowly he said, "I wouldn't make that a habit if I were you. It's dangerous to crawl into bed with a man and not expect him to instinctively take advantage of the situation. The women who wake up with me usually find themselves occupied for awhile before I let them out of bed."

Laughing, I told him that I'd remember that in the future. Making my way to the shower, I asked him to make some breakfast while I got ready.

Walking into the living room after my shower, I was pleasantly surprised to find scrambled eggs, bacon and toast waiting on the table. Sniffing at the wonderful aroma of coffee, I made my way over to pour myself a cup.

Breakfast over, we left the cabin an hour later after Scott had showered and gotten ready. Stopping in the used bookstore, I wandered the aisles looking at what was available, my eyes greedily taking in any prospective books. I left Scott over in the sci-fi section, flipping somewhat restlessly through a book.

After a few minutes, he walked over to me, telling me that he would meet me in the music store next door. Nodding somewhat distractedly at him, I fell back under the spell of the books around me.

Going into the art section, I found a nice picture book of Raphael's paintings and sketches and decided to buy it for Scott. Making my way up to the cash register with this and a book of Sylvia Plath's poetry in tow, I paid for my purchases and went next door to find Scott. Finding him flipping through several cds, he smiled when he saw that I had found several books to buy. Walking around the music store, I picked up two cds to purchase and told Scott that I was walking across the street to get a cup of coffee. Asking him if he wanted anything, he shook his head no. After I had purchased my music, I wandered over to get a cup of café mocha from the coffee shop. Meeting Scott back at the car, he promptly copped my java and gulped down a few mouthfuls before returning it to me.

Getting into the car, we decided to take off and explore the area a bit, taking advantage of the sunny day. I laughed as I told him about the sympathetic looks that I kept getting from the people who had waited on me, the bruises on my face slowly fading but still plainly visible beneath my sun glasses. Telling me that he was happy to see that I had bought some music, he told me that he had some reservations about my musical taste.

Turning to him, I said, "What? What do you mean by reservations?"

"Well, after that Tracy Chapman folk shit that you were playing last night…"

"Hey - I love her! She's great! Anyway, we'll listen to these two when we get back home, okay?"

"Depends. What did you buy?" ,p> "Well, I managed to find here of all places, two cds that I've been searching for…Willie Nelson's Stardust, and W.A.S.P.'s Live in the Raw, which I've been looking for years for."

With a sharp bark of laughter, he shook his head in bewildered awe. "Can we say eclectic taste Gab?"

Laughing back at him, I smiled saying, "Yes, I suppose that term could apply."

After driving around for awhile, we came to a stop at a state park. Running into the bathroom at the entrance of the park to take a pee break, I met him outside, and we set off on a walking trail. After walking for about half an hour or so, we stopped at some picnic tables. Opening my backpack, I sat on top of the table, and opened my poetry book while silently handing Scott's book to him.

Flipping through the pages, he remained quietly absorbed in thought. Admiring the prints in the book, I told him over his shoulder, "That's for you. I didn't know if you had any books of his work, and when I saw that in the store I thought you'd might like it."

"Thanks," he murmured, smiling at me over his shoulders.

Looking at the view spread out before us, I admired the beauty of the woods and closed my eyes, leaning my head back while deeply inhaling the fresh crisp air.

"This is a great place, no wonder you like to come here to hide from the world. I have to say though, I was surprised that you'd choose a place like this to come to - it doesn't seem like you."

"Yeah, I know. But I like it here, people leave me alone, and I can take a break from everyone. I usually just sleep and listen to music while I'm here, maybe reading a little too. I'm not into a lot of nature walks or hiking though."

"Well, I like to spend some time outdoors when I can - it gets me away from people and helps me unwind," I said. "I like it here, it's pretty. I've never really been someone to go to the city for a vacation - I get sick of people."

"Well, I like going to different places, depending on my mood. Sometimes I like being alone, but you can be alone in the city too, you know. If you're doing your own thing and exploring, you don't necessarily have to talk to everyone and make friends. Sometimes I'm open for conversation with people, sometimes not," he shrugged.

After enjoying the woods for a little while longer, we headed back to Scott's cabin. Later that evening, after we'd eaten dinner and cleaned up the kitchen, I sat in front of the fireplace, my back propped up against the side of the couch, my legs extended out in front of me, reading my new poetry book. Hearing Scott make his way over to me, I smiled wordlessly up at him in greeting, and then turned back to my reading. Sitting beside me, we shared the stillness of the evening companionably, the fire occasionally popping out a comment at us.

Putting his book down, Scott turned and set his head down into my lap, sighing softly.

Looking down at him in surprise I said, "What is it?"

Sighing, I heard him mumble, "I feel like my life is at a standstill right now. I can't really explain it - I guess I'm feeling down tonight. My depressed nature is asserting itself."

Putting my book aside, I asked him, "You want to talk about it?"

Wrapping his hands around my thigh to further pillow his head, he said, "Not really."

"Is there anything that I can do?"

"Yeah - just stay still and keep reading. I just want to stay here for awhile."

Picking my book up, I resumed reading, and looked down at the side of his face turned up towards me, watching him as he stared at the flames of the fire with a veiled expression in his eyes. Instinctively knowing that he just wanted to feel a warm body beside him, comforting him, I read several poems to him, while softly stroking the curls away from his face, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Lifting my hand, he reached up to place it back on his head. Playing with his hair, lacing my fingers through the unruly strands, I stroked him gently, keeping him company with my presence. I softy stroked the furrowed lines of his brow, seeing his face gradually slacken as he relaxed and drifted off to sleep. And so the night passed.

The next few days were leisurely ones indeed, and I relaxed and enjoyed myself, reading, taking some long walks, and unwinding in general.

Scott and I entertained ourselves several times with a grilling game or two of scrabble. Damn if that man didn't win every game too, and I couldn't understand it. For someone who couldn't spell if his life depended on it, he managed to easily beat me at every game.

Soon it was time for both of us to leave. I had to get back to school, and Scott mentioned that he had to travel to Alabama for ECW's next venue.

Our last night spent together was a pleasant one, and we stayed up late once again talking with one another until the wee hours of the morning. We discussed our personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions on everything from the best breakfast cereal to conspiracy theories surrounding the death of Jim Morrison. I told Scott that he was obviously influenced by Morrison, from his wardrobe to part of his outlook on life. He admitted to owning a volume of the dead singer's poetry and that it was one of his favorite books.

The next day we left early for the airport, with separate destinations. Scott told me that after his stay in Alabama, he would be travelling about, keeping a busy schedule for the next few months. I told him that I would be busy with school, especially preparing for finals in another 5 weeks or so. He mentioned that his plans were open for the holiday season. I asked him if he would be going to see his family, and he said no. I told him that I wasn't planning on seeing my family in California either for Christmas, and if he wanted to, he was always welcome to crash at my place. He said that he'd let me know.

Telling me that he'd call me when he was able to, we said our good-byes at his departure gate. My flight was still a few hours away, and I was planning on purchasing one of the latest paperbacks in the gift shop to read in order to pass the time. We had some time to spare before he boarded his plane, and we people watched and made up stories about fellow airport travelers and their destinations.

A few minutes before he was scheduled to board, I stood up from my chair, thanking him for inviting me to share his cabin and telling him what a great time I had. He walked me over to one of the large bay windows where we had some privacy, and told me that he had something for me. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out a book for me, saying that he had picked up a volume of collected Russian poetry in the used bookstore that we had visited as a gift for me.

Looking up and smiling at him while saying thank you, I hugged him, feeling him enfold me tightly in his arms. Pulling away from me slightly, he looked down at me intensely for a moment, his deep brown eyes suddenly thoughtful. Caressing my cheek with his thumb he leaned forward, kissing me lightly on the lips. Somewhat taken aback, I stared up at him, momentarily at a loss for words. Stroking my face gently with his fingertips once more, he said that he would be calling me soon, and told me to be careful when going home. He made me promise to watch out for myself and to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. I told him that I would look forward to his call, and also told him to be careful and take care of himself as well. With a last grin and a brief wave at me over his shoulder, he was gone.

Walking across the airport to my departure gate, I plunked myself down into a chair, settling in to do some reading while waiting for my flight. Looking down at the volume of poetry that Scott had given me, I opened the book up to see something written on the first page.

Gabrielle -

I've enjoyed our time together immensely, and knowing that you are fond of Russian poetry, found this book and thought of you. I thought I'd make a donation to your "library". I'll share some thoughts with you from one of my favorite writers, Kahlil Gibran:

"Farewell to you and the youth I have spent with you.

It was but yesterday and we met in a dream.

You have sung to me in my aloneness, and I of your longings have built a tower in the sky

But now our sleep has fled and our dream is over, and it is no longer dawn.

The noontide is upon us and our half waking has turned to a fuller day, and we must part.

If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, and shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song,

And if our hands should meet in another dream, we shall build another tower in the sky."

Stay on the path Gab -

Scott

P.S. - See pages 27 and 50 for my favorites

Flipping through the poetry book, I came across the two poems that he was referring to. Both were by my favorite Russian poet, Anna Akhmatova. The first poem was entitled, "The Last Toast".

"I drink to the house, already destroyed,

And my whole life, too awful to tell,

To the loneliness we together enjoyed,

I drink to you as well.

To the eyes with deadly cold imbued,

To the lips that betrayed me with a lie,

To the world for being cruel and rude,

To God who didn't save us, or try."

The other poem that he mentioned was untitled.

"There's a sacred limit to any closeness,

Even the passionate fact can't transcend,

Though in fearful silence lips on lips may press

And the heart love tears to pieces won't mend

And friendship is powerless and years

Of intense high-minded happiness,

Where the soul is free, a stranger fears

Of the slow languors of passionate excess.

Those who strive to reach it play the part

Of madness, those who succeed are stricken

And now, you understand why my heart

Does not beat beneath your hand."

Closing the book, I stared in front of me, trying to organize my thoughts. I was uncomfortable with the feelings and emotions that were beginning to surface inside of me. For the first time in a long while, I was uncertain about the status of my friendship with a man, and a little nervous about the feelings that I was beginning to feel towards him, feelings that I wasn't sure would be wise to fully acknowledge and accept.

I pondered the last month or so of my life on the flight home while restlessly stirring in my seat, dreading the emotional instability that my gut told me lurked around the corner. When my flight finally touched the ground and I was officially home, I breathed a sigh of relief, gathering my belongings together and preparing for the always-a-thrill-a-minute-hunt-for-your-car-in-the-crowded-parking-lot-game.

Disembarking from my plane, I walked up the ramp and into the main thoroughfare of the airport, only to spot a familiar face smiling at me in greeting.

"Hey Chris - what are you doing here? Are you flying out somewhere?"

Hugging me, Chris looked at the almost vanished bruises on my face, a frown crossing his normally cheerful features as he said, "Nope - I'm here to pick you up. Scott called me awhile ago and told me that you were flying in tonight, and asked me if I could take you home. I didn't know that you had gone anywhere - did you go somewhere with him?"

"Yes, we took a trip up to Vermont to spend a few days at his cabin," I said, looking over at him as if on cue to catch the look of surprise that flew across his features. "Close your mouth, Jerky," I sassed him. "You're attracting flies."

"Well, I'm just surprised - I didn't know that you, well, that the two of you, you know…"

Cutting him off quickly, I told him that it wasn't what he was thinking. We walked out to the parking lot together and after a few minutes finally located my car. He told me that a friend of his had dropped him off at the airport earlier, and that he was riding home with me, as a favor to Scott. He said that he had left his car at my apartment.

Sensing his impatience, I updated him on the way home about the events of the past week and a half. Bristling in his seat, I could hear the incredulity expressed in his voice as I told him about the night that I was attacked. Immediately stating that he had a few more days off and would stay with me if I needed him to, I declined, telling him that although I appreciated his concern, it was time for me to get back into my routine. When we reached my apartment, he suggested that he come up for a few minutes with me and make sure that everything was in order, and that nothing suspicious had occurred in my absence.

Entering my apartment, Chris walked into each room checking to make sure that everything was okay. Inviting him to join me for an early dinner, I heated up some soup and made a few sandwiches for us to have. Munching away on his BLT happily, he briefed me on what was new in his world. Finishing his sandwich and licking his fingers hungrily, he asked me in a hopeful tone if I had any more bacon left. Rolling my eyes at him, I laughed and made him two more sandwiches and poured the remainder of the clam chowder into his bowl, hoping that would satisfy his tapeworm.

Listening to some of the new road stories that he had to share with me, I gazed somewhat distractedly out of the window, thinking about my time spent with Scott.

"Anyway, when we reached San Diego, I knew that something was amiss. Walking into the locker room unexpectedly, I spotted X-Pac smuggling a sheep into the locker room. Hearing several lusty cries, I peeked my head around the corner, only to see both Ivory and X-Pac stroking the sheep furiously, getting ready to shear it. Vince McMahon stood naked in the far corner of the room, beginning to stroke himself as he was obviously very turned on by the shearing that was at hand…"

Looking up at him suddenly I said, "What?!"

Snapping his fingers an inch or so from my nose, he replied, "Earth to Gabrielle! Helloooo! Ready to join me once more on planet earth?"

Sighing, I told him, "I'm sorry Chris. I guess I'm just a little distracted right now - I've got some things on my mind."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"No, not right now, but I know that you're always here for me when I need someone, and I thank you for that."

Finishing up our dinner, Chris left my apartment shortly after, making me promise to call him if anything happened or if I just needed to talk. Asking if I had plans the next day, I told him no, and he told me that maybe he would pop by and keep me company. I told him that I'd love to see him as always.

Tossing and turning in bed that night, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about Scott, and about our time spent together. I finally admitted to myself that I was attracted to him, and once again bemoaned the fact that I couldn't seem to get together with any traditional "nice guys" who were predictable and safe. Scott had brought out new hues of color into my life with his arrival, and instead of my traditional canvas of calming greens and blues, I suddenly saw bright streaks of red and encompassing black encroaching into my organized little world. I had mixed feelings about this new development, unsure if I should go forward with what I felt, or attempt to nip anything that was just developing in the bud. I didn't even know yet what his feelings were or weren't.

After cleaning my apartment the next day and returning my calls, Chris arrived at my door in the early afternoon, ice skates in hand. Groaning, I held my hand up to my head while looking at him pleadingly.

"What are those Chris? Are you inviting me to go along to watch you ice skate?" I said, a hopeful tone in my voice.

"Well, I remembered that I stood you up for a skating date, so I'm here to make up for it," he said, smiling brightly at me.

"Uh - you don't have to, you know. I don't know how to skate - I've never ice skated in my life, and my common sense is telling me that 30 is way too old to learn."

"Come on, it'll be fun. We'll rent a pair of skates for you down at the rink okay?"

Resigning myself to my fate of untold potential bruises and/or broken bones, I drove with him down to the rink. After parking his car, we wandered inside, to find an almost deserted rink. Thankful that there weren't too many little kids about for me to demolish, I rented a pair of skates after finding a pair that fit me correctly.

Sitting down, I laced my skates up slowly, stalling for time. Hearing an impatient, "Oh for heaven's sake - let me do that or we'll be here all day," coming from Chris, I rolled my eyes, letting him lace up my last skate. Standing in front of me, his skates put on long ago, he held out his hand to me.

"C'mon…get up - you can do it - let's see - YEAH!" he called out loudly. "She's finally up folks!"

Slapping him on the arm sharply, I hissed at him, "Watch it Jerky - I'm trying not to break my neck you know."

Holding onto his arm tightly, I tentatively stepped across the floor, stopping inches away from the ice, breathing very heavily with anxiety.

Stepping behind me, I felt Chris' hands grasp my waist tightly. "Okay - first step - go out onto the ice slowly, don't worry, I've got you. You won't fall."

A nervous whine emitted from the back of my throat as I slowly eked out onto the ice, my legs shaking. "Chris, don't you dare let go, you hear me? You'd better promise not to let go. I mean it!"

"Don't worry - come on - show a little backbone will ya," he sassed into my ear, laughing as I growled back at him in response. Standing stationary, I let him push me slowly around on the ice, a little thrill of excitement zinging through my body at the feeling of trying something new.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before I started to nervously take small strides, clutching at Chris' hands tightly while trying to maintain my balance.

"Okay," Chris said briskly, "I think we're ready for the next step. I'm going to let go of you, and skate beside you. Don't worry, you can hang onto my hand, okay? Just relax!"

Squealing loudly as I felt his hands releasing themselves from around my waist, I instantly searched around wildly for his hand. Feeling my hand gripping his, he began to speed up slowly, and we glided around the rink. My knees were almost knocking together in fear, and I told him that I was going to fall, that we were going too fast.

"Don't you dare fall! This is easy! Just relax and don't stress out so much Gab! What a ninny you are!"

"Shut up Jerky," I muttered at him through a very tightly clenched jaw. "If I make it out of here alive you're going to pay for this you know."

Laughing, Chris let go of my hand for a moment, and I panicked, frantically trying to catch his hand again. Pulling me to the side of the rink, he told me to keep one hand on the rail, while practicing skating slowly around the circumference of the rink. I clutched the railing at first with both hands, and then becoming a bit braver, used my right hand to grip the sides of the rink as I very slowly skated around. Seeing Chris whiz by me suddenly, it was more than apparent that he was showing off. Turning around to wave at me while skating backwards, he called out for me to skate faster and not be such a chicken.

Shooting him with a nasty glare and gnashing my teeth, he laughed gaily, blowing a kiss at me cheekily in return.

An hour later he skated over to me, asking me if I was ready to go. Breathing a sigh of relief, I leaned against the railing, happy that my torture was finally at an end.

Skating about 30 feet away from me, Chris turned around to face me, holding out his arms.

"Okay Gab - one more thing and then we'll go, I promise. I want you to skate over here to me."

"You want me to what?!"

"C'mon - you can do it. Let go of that railing and skate over to me. Just let your feet glide, and hold your arms out on either side of your body to steady yourself. You can do it - it's a piece of cake - look at that 5 year old little girl over there. If she can do it, so can you," he taunted me.

Gritting my teeth and promising to tell all sorts of nasty little tales to any potential girlfriend in his future, I let go of the railing and skated towards him, my legs wobbling as I waved my arms about like a disjointed windmill striving for some semblance of balance.

"Come on, you're almost here - that a girl - come to Poppa - wait, slow down a bit," he said.

"How the hell do you slow down? Don't give me that slow down shit!" I told him, my voice rising an octave or so in panic.

Plowing into him, he lost his balance and we both toppled onto the ice.

"Oof - I can't breath - you're crushing my chest…air…some air please…what the hell have you been eating lately," he teased me, laughing as I wriggled about trying to get off of him.

Sitting on my butt with my legs extended in front of me, I crossed my arms across my chest and hissed at him in anger. Laughing, he stood up and reached down to ruffle my hair. Holding out both of his hands, I grasped them and he pulled me up. Still holding onto his hand for security, we skated back to a thankfully more stable environment.

On the way home, we stopped off at a coffee shop to chat for a bit. Sensing that he was holding himself back from plying me with questions, I brought the subject of Scott up and waited for him to dig in.

"Well, now that you mention him, it seems like the two of you are becoming good friends," he said casually, sipping his cappuccino.

"Yes we are - he's a nice guy," I said nonchalantly.

"Uh - this may be none of my business but - well here goes. He doesn't exactly have a great track record with women you know and…"

Setting my cup down and looking at him disapprovingly, I humphed silently. "Look, we're just friends, I told you that already. Just because we took a trip together and stayed in the same place for awhile doesn't mean…"

Holding his hands up defensively, he mocked me. "Whoa! Easy there girl! A little defensive are we?" he said, laughing as I felt a hot blush creep over my face. Damn my transparent emotions!

"Look Gabrielle, I'm your friend, and I care about what happens to you. Scott's my friend as well, and he's a good guy. All I'm trying to say is that he's not the type of guy that you look to have a relationship with that's all. I'm not saying that he's a bad person, just that - well, be careful with your heart okay?"

Looking at him while sipping my café mocha I said quietly, "Who said anything about having any sort of relationship?"

Leaning forward and brushing some whip cream off from my upper lip with his napkin he said, " I know you a lot better than you think. I'll drop it okay? But if you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you, that's all."

Driving home, he walked me up to my door, giving me a big hug and telling me that he was proud of the newfound skating progress that I had made that day. "You know, keep practicing your skating and maybe when the Olympic trials come up…ow!" he said as I yanked on his goatee. "What was that for?"

"Olympics?" I said to him, laughing. "Stop teasing me!"

"Hey - I meant the Special Olympics," he said, raising his hands defensively to ward off any potential blows.

"That's enough Jerky! Give me a call when you're back in town and we'll talk some more okay?"

"Okay," he said, skipping down the stairs. Saying farewell to me with a mock salute, he said, "Later, gator," and drove off.

For the next few weeks I kept myself busy with school and other projects that never seemed to cease. I was in touch with the police department, who told me that my purse had never shown up, and advised me to replace my driver's license immediately. Thankfully I had taken the small purse the night of the attack that I usually used when going out somewhere, and had only misplaced my driver's license and a small amount of cash. I replaced my driver's license the first week I was back home, and kept a watchful eye out for anything remotely suspicious, but nothing, thankfully, came to pass.

I began to watch ECW's weekly show, hoping to catch a glimpse of Scott. I kept my fingers laced over my eyes for a good part of each show, wincing constantly when it appeared inevitable that someone was sure to break their neck. The few glimpses I caught of Scott were never enough, and it was quite a surreal experience to watch a friend on television while attempting to establish some sort of link with them. I almost felt like a stalker, and it left me with an unpleasant taste in my mouth.

Scott had mentioned to me when I'd last seen him that he would be in touch, and a month had passed with no word from him. I didn't have any way to contact him since he was travelling around constantly, and I missed our conversations and the time we had spent together. I tried to focus all my spare time and attention on my studying and schoolwork, deciding that keeping myself busy was the best course of action for me to take. When I sat and thought about everything, I felt foolish for letting this small bump in the course of my life have such a large impact on me. For God's sake, it wasn't like we were a couple, or had anything remotely resembling a "relationship". For some reason though, Scott had gotten under my skin, nagging away at the back of my subconscious, popping regularly into my thoughts like an uninvited guest at the oddest times.

Chris arrived back home in time to celebrate his birthday. Planning on attending his birthday part to help him celebrate tomorrow night, I called him up and asked if we could spend an hour or two together. We decided to meet a local bar and grill, and after the waitress had seated me into a corner booth, I ordered an ice tea and waited for his arrival. Pulling out a paperback to devour while passing the time, I looked up to see him walking towards our booth. We greeted one another with a hug and a kiss, and then sat back down, the waitress presenting us with our menus.

After ordering a few appetizers that we could share, I asked him how he was, and how the last month of travel had been for him. Looking somewhat tired, he told me that he was happy to be home once more, and take the opportunity to kick back for a few days before meeting everyone else at their next venue. I asked him how Matt and Jeff were doing, and he told me that they were fine, working harder than ever and enjoying the increasing amount of crowd response that they were receiving at every successive show that they performed at. He told me that everyone was due to come into town in another two weeks for a performance at our local sports arena. He asked me if I had any plans for Thanksgiving, and I told him that I didn't. He said that he would be going up to his parents place for the holiday, and then mentioned that I was welcome to join him if I wanted to. I thanked him for the invite, but told him that I was planning on staying home.

Asking me what was new and exciting in my world, I briefed him about my boring routine and updated him on one of my more challenging classes, and the seeming lack of progress that was accompanying my every move in it. He asked me if I'd heard from Scott and I shook my head, telling him that I hadn't.

I began to confide in him about my feelings concerning Scott, and how I wasn't sure what was happening, if anything at all. Saying that Scott had told me that he'd call, and that I hadn't heard from him for a month now, Chris sighed and looked away, that good old "I'm sorry but I told you so" look beginning to cross his face.

I told Chris that I really missed some of the talks that Scott and I had shared together, and that I missed his friendship in general. I told him that I felt foolish feeling this sensitive about someone that I'd barely met, and hardly spent any amount of time with. Chris shook his head, telling me that most of the relationships that Scott had with women were on a purely sexual basis, by his own admittance. I rolled my eyes and looked away, joking to Chris that this philosophy of life was every man's ideal.

"Maybe some men, but not all," Chris replied, nobly defending his sex. "Besides - I don't think that it's an exclusive gender issue. Some women are content with having a sexual based relationship as a means of companionship."

"I don't doubt that, and actually, maybe life would be much easier that way," I muttered, looking out the window into the parking lot.

"Ah, come on, don't turn jaded on me at this stage of the game," said Chris. "Besides, you're not the type of person who could exist on that alone."

"You don't think so?" I said. "I might surprise you. Actually, who needs men for sex?"

Raising an eyebrow at me, Chris retorted, "Ahh…last time I checked, most women do."

"Come on, don't be so naïve, Jerky. That's what we have our boy toys for."

"Your what?" Chris asked, popping a grilled shrimp into his mouth.

"You know, our toys that are shaped like boys. Don't tell me…"

"God," Chris sputtered, choking on his shrimp. Coughing into his napkin a few times, he took a sip of water, his eyes stinging with tears. "Okay, time to change the subject. That's a little too much information, even from you."

"I was just teasing you silly," I said, smiling at him. "So, is there any hope for me? Am I a hopeless neurotic? Is there even a remote chance that at some point in my life, hopefully before turning 60, that I'll have something reasonably close to a romantic relationship? God, it's been so long that I can't even remember…"

"Nah," Chris shrugged. "It's just like riding a bike. You never forget that."

"Never forget what?" I said, eyeing him suspiciously. "The act or the feeling?"

"Both," he said, smiling wickedly at me while wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion.

Grinning at me like the overgrown kid that he was he laughed, and we left soon afterwards, planning to meet at his party the following evening.

The next night we had a great time, and there was quite the raucous get together at his place. The birthday boy was in fine form as usual, the heart and soul of the party. I stayed for several hours, before bowing out early, pleading a headache.

Shortly after I arrived back home the phone rang, and upon answering it I received a very pleasant surprise. Scott was on the other end, apologetic that it had taken him so long to get in touch with me. Updating me on his travels, he said that he was looking forward to his next break from the grind, and was planning on coming into town the following weekend. Asking if I was free to spend some time with him I immediately told him yes, that I was looking forward to seeing him, and had missed talking with him.

Asking me if I could pick him up at the airport, I told him that I'd be there. He mentioned that he would contact Chris about crashing at his place while he was in town, and I told him that he was always welcome to stay with me if he wanted to. After a somewhat awkward pause, he told me that he wanted to stay at Chris' place if possible, and didn't want to inconvenience me. I took the hint, and let him decide what would be best for him.

I drove Chris to the airport a few days later, and he left his house key with me to give to Scott to use while he was there for the weekend. Hugging me goodbye and kissing me on the forehead with a loud slurpy smooch, he told me that he'd see me in a few weeks and asked me to hang onto his house key until then.

Grinning at me like the mad man that he was, he wagged a finger in a cautionary manner in my direction, telling me to behave myself while he was gone. Rolling my eyes, I told him that it would be hard, but I'd do my utmost.

The remaining days dragged by until finally Friday arrived at last. While driving to the airport, I sang happily to myself, looking forward to seeing Scott once more and experiencing the bizarre feeling of butterflies floating about my stomach.

When the passengers from his flight began to enter the main airport terminal, I craned my neck, spotting him at last. Waving in his direction, I made my way over to greet him. Stopping just a few feet in front of Scott, I smiled at him in greeting. "Hi there. I missed you."

Hugging me briefly, he smiled fleetingly back at me and told me that he had missed me too. Asking him if he had anything to collect from the baggage claim, he told me no, that everything that he'd brought with him was packed into his carry on luggage.

Leaving the airport, we walked outside to feel the cool night air swirl about us. After reaching my car, we left the parking lot, and I asked him if he'd eaten dinner yet. Saying that he hadn't, I invited him to my place for a bite to eat, and told him that we could also go out somewhere if he'd rather do that instead.

He shrugged noncommittally, busying himself with looking out of the passenger window. After a moment he told me just to drop him off at Chris' place, and he'd scrounge up something to eat.

Parking in front of Chris' condo, I unlocked the front door to let us inside. After setting his bags down in the guestroom, Scott walked into the kitchen to see what there was to eat. Finding a can of soup, he located a pot to heat it up in, and busied himself preparing his meal, absorbed in his task.

Feeling somewhat awkward suddenly towards him, I walked over to the sliding glass doors that led out onto the deck outside to gaze out at the view. Looking into the glass, I could see Scott's reflection behind me. While his soup was heating up, he had turned his attention to look at me with a thoughtful expression written on his face. Waiting for him to say something, anything, I just stood there quietly, seeming to be lost in thought, my attention appearing to be focused on the scenery.

I could see that Scott was taking in my appearance. I had taken some care in preparing for his arrival, wearing some actual makeup for a change that further brought out the moss green color of my eyes, and accented the dark brown eyebrows that contrasted with my honey blonde hair. Still dressed in my usual button fly jeans, instead of opting for my usual plain tee shirt, I had dressed in a midriff baring aqua angora sweater. With my long hair pulled up into my usual French twist and a hint of White Linen perfume behind my ears and between my breasts, I was feeling girly indeed. Although most of the time I had a tendency to live in jeans and tee shirts or flannel shirts, once in awhile it was fun to look overtly feminine for a change.

When his soup was ready, he made himself several cheese sandwiches to accompany his meal, and plunked himself down on Chris' couch, turning on the television. Deciding that I was tired of standing around feeling like an idiot, I walked over to the coffee table to pick up my purse and jacket, ready to leave.

Looking up at me in surprise, Scott swallowed a bite of sandwich and asked me if I was leaving. Telling him that I was, I walked over to the front door to let myself out. Turning around to say goodnight to him, I saw him wave his hand casually over his head in farewell in my direction, his back turned to me. I set the house key on the table in the entranceway, and called to him to let him know it was there. Nodding at me in response, he appeared to be absorbed in a Jerry Springer rerun on television. Sighing, I opened the door and let myself out.

Walking back out to my car, I shook my head, puzzled and a little hurt about the coolness of Scott's attitude. Wondering if he was merely tired or simply not wanting to be in my presence, I drove home, staying awake for most of the night. I tossed and turned for hours before resigning myself to sleeplessness, and finally got up to work on an essay that was due for my art history class.

Cleaning my apartment the next day, I channeled the pent up energy that I felt into my housework, taking advantage of my restlessness and irritation with the world at large to scrub my oven and the floor of my shower vigorously, until the muscles in my hands and forearms ached. Finishing my cleaning my noon, I showered and dressed, selecting a forest green silk blouse out of my wardrobe to accompany my black jeans. Attempting to style my hair with a set of curlers I gave up quickly, chastising myself for forgetting that my hair had a life of its own, and did as it damn well pleased. Swearing, I impatiently twisted it up and pinned it up on the back of my head in its customary style. I had never taken the time nor had much patience to spend a lot of effort on makeup or hairstyles, and always joked to my friends that one of my tests for potential boyfriends was that they had to spend less time in front of the mirror than I did, and let me tell you, my time was usually no longer than 10 minutes at most. I never could stand men who were obsessive with their appearance, standing there preening, worshiping themselves in the mirror.

Trying to concentrate on a reading assignment for my literature class, I was unable to focus my attention on the story, and kept glancing up at the clock every few minutes, waiting for Scott to call. I knew that he would be leaving town tomorrow afternoon, and he had told me that he wanted to spend some time together. Glancing at the clock to see that it was already almost 4 in the afternoon, I grabbed my keys and coat and headed out the door for Chris' place, perturbed at the unpleasant string of events.

Reaching Chris' condo a short while later and knocking impatiently on the door, I saw Scott open the door a few inches and hod at me grumpily in greeting. Unhooking the chain, he let me inside, closing the door after me. Telling me that he'd be out in a few minutes to join me, he traveled towards the bathroom. Watching his body move while walking away from me, I could see the large tattoo on his shoulder blade, and I watched the muscles in his broad shoulders and back flex as he stretched his arms high above his head, a husky grunt emitting from his lips while doing so.

Waiting in the living room, I sat down on the couch, turning on the stereo by remote control to listen to some music to pass the time. I heard Scott walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower before closing the door after him. Rising up from the couch to walk over to the bay windows to look outside, I heard the sensual opening notes of Great White's "Rock Me" playing on the radio, the song gradually building tempo as it exploded with passion. Thinking about Scott showering, picturing the water running down his tattooed, muscular flesh in thick rivulets I groaned, banging my head lightly against the glass and cursing myself. "Christ, you're just horny. Stop it," I whispered to my reflection before walking over to turn off the song that was now helping to pump images of pure lust through my system, slowly driving me crazy.

Walking back over to the couch I took a seat, flipping restlessly through a computer magazine of Chris' that was lying on the coffee table in front of me. Hearing the door to the bathroom open, I turned to look behind me down the hallway, catching a glimpse of Scott walking into the bedroom, a towel wrapped snugly around his waist and water dripping from his hair to run in beads down his warm damp flesh.

After a few minutes the bedroom door opened up and Scott emerged, padding in his bare feet down the hallway, dressed in ripped jeans and a black tee shirt. When he walked past me, I caught a delicious whiff of freshly scrubbed male. Going into the kitchen, he asked me if I wanted a bowl of cereal, and I told him no. Walking back into the living room to join me with his cereal in hand, he settled himself on the opposite couch, leaning forward to turn on the television with the remote. Diving into his cereal he munched away, his attention focused solely on the television.

"Hey Scott, you mentioned on the phone when we spoke last that you wanted to hang out and spend some time together while you were here. What did you have in mind?"

Shrugging, he lifted another spoonful of cereal up to his mouth, chewing vigorously before swallowing. "Nothing really, I guess. I just want to relax right now and rest up a bit before my next performance," he said, lifting a spoonful of milk up to slurp noisily. Looking at the smudge of milk that was shadowing his upper lip I swallowed hard, looking away.

"Okay, then you didn't want to do anything? I know that your flight leaves tomorrow afternoon. You're just going to hang out here by yourself?"

Nodding yes, he kept his attention focused on the television, finishing up his cereal. Sighing, I rose to my feet, telling him if that was the case, then I had more than enough homework facing me at home to keep myself occupied. Deciding that enough was enough, I confronted him.

"Scott, I need to ask you something okay? Are you angry with me? Did I do something to upset you? The only reason I'm asking is that you've been acting strangely since I picked you up last night. Is there something wrong? Can you talk to me about it?"

Muttering that he didn't feel like talking at the moment, he walked into the kitchen to place his bowl in the sink. Following him silently, I placed a hand gently on his back while asking him again what was wrong. Turning around, he gazed down silently at me for a moment before looking away. Reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder, I reminded him that he had told me once not to hide from him, and now I was asking the same favor in return. Reaching his hands up to run them through his curly hair, he looked back down into my eyes, sighing. Reaching up to press myself against him, I hugged him, my voice muffled slightly in his hair.

"It's okay you know. You can talk to me."

Reaching his hands up to unclasp my arms from around his neck, he stared at me silently for a moment, and then reached forward, cupping both sides of my face in his palms. Leaning forward slowly, giving me time to retreat, he kissed me softly, his lips moving over mine. Pressing his body closer to mine he kissed me more deeply, snaking his tongue out to slowly part my lips, his mouth now devouring mine hungrily. Sighing, I lifted my hands up to cup his shoulder blades with my palms, moaning his name against his lips in between deep, soul searching kisses.

Pushing me away from him suddenly, he walked into the living room, hands raking once more through the dampness of his hair. Reaching up to touch my lips softly with my fingers, I closed my eyes, leaning against the counter for a moment. The taste of his mouth still on my lips and the warmth of his hands still imprinted on my skin, I walked out into the living room, asking him quietly what was wrong.

"Look Gab, I'm sorry okay? I shouldn't have done that, it was a mistake. I think you should leave now, because I know you have some things to do and I need some time to be alone."

"Scott, I'm not leaving. Let's talk about this - please tell me what's wrong!"

"I can't talk right now."

"Is this about you kissing me? Is that what's upsetting you?"

"I shouldn't have done that, and I'm sorry. Let's face it - you're not the type of woman that I usually make a move on. It was a mistake."

"That's okay, you don't have to apologize, it really wasn't anything at all," I shot back at him over my shoulder, walking towards the door. "I can't believe you're upsetting yourself over something so small. It wasn't a big deal," I reiterated, lying through my teeth. "I'll be busy for the rest of the weekend - see you around," I said, reaching for the doorknob.

Back at my apartment I cursed him soundly, unable to think or focus on anything but the memory of the sweetness of his kiss. The night passed with no word from Scott and the next day as well. Early in the afternoon I heard a knock at my door, and I opened it up to see Scott standing there, holding the key to Chris' apartment in front of me.

"Here," he said, giving the key to me. "Chris told me that I was to give it back to you to hang onto until he gets home on Friday."

"Thanks," I replied, taking the key from him. Trying to see the expression in his eyes but being thwarted by the sunglasses that he was wearing, I tried to make the best out of an awkward moment.

"Do you want to come in for a few minutes?"

"No, I have a cab waiting in the parking lot to take me to the airport. I just wanted to drop the key off on my way out of town," he replied.

"Alright then, I hope to hear from you soon," I said, trying to smile at him.

Turning away from me he murmured, "Yeah, see you around," before heading back down the flight of stairs to walk across the street to where his cab was at the curb.

"See you," I whispered, angry with myself for feeling so hurt but unable to stop the flow of tears that were now stinging my eyes.

The week dragged on, and finally Friday arrived. I had spent one of the most miserable weeks of my life obsessing over every little thing that could or couldn't be the cause of Scott's coolness in attitude towards me. Angry with myself for even caring, I attempted to push all thoughts of him from my mind, only to be thwarted with the remembrance of that sweet kiss that we had shared with one another in Chris' kitchen.

Friday morning my phone rang, and it was Chris calling to tell me that he had a backstage pass waiting for me in the office of the sports arena for the performance that night. Telling him that I wasn't feeling up to going anywhere, I continued on to say that I'd be staying at home that evening.

"C'mon Gab, can't you come down to see us?" he said, trying to convince me to change my mind.

"Chris, I really don't feel like going anywhere, I think it's better if I just stay home, okay?" I replied.

"Are you sick? You don't sound sick, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, why does anything have to be wrong? I just have, well, a slight stomach ache," I lied.

"I see…and would this mystery ailment of yours happen to have anything to do with a man named Scott?"

"No," I replied defensively.

"Well, I know that Matt and Jeff want to see you. I'll tell you what - they're going to be staying with me for the weekend. Why don't you come over to my place tomorrow afternoon and we'll have an early Thanksgiving dinner together, okay?"

"Thanks for the invitation, but I have a lot of homework to do and…"

"Look, you turned me down when I invited you to come to my parent's place. I know that you're not going anywhere to see your family. Are you telling me that you're going to be fixing a turkey dinner to have all by yourself next Thursday?"

"Well actually, I wasn't going to…"

"Have turkey dinner? That's traditional!" He scolded me, cutting me off.

We finished our phone conversation shortly after, and I wished him luck that night and told him to tell Matt and Jeff that I had said hello. Feeling somewhat tired from all the stress that I had been through that week, I made it an early night. Getting up early the next morning, I cleaned my apartment and started in on my homework. Hearing the phone ring about an hour after I had started working on my mythology essay, I picked up the phone, irritated at having been interrupted in the middle of my train of thought.

"Hello?"

"Hey Gabbers, it's me."

"Hey Chris, what's up?"

"I need to get my key back so that I can give it to Matt and Jeff to use this weekend," he told me.

"Okay, when do you want to pick it up?"

"I'll be over in about an hour okay?"

"Sure - see you then."

True to his word, there was a knock at my door a little under an hour later. Opening the door to let him in, I was surprised to see Chris, Matt and Jeff standing on my doorstep, their arms filled with grocery bags.

"Hey guys - what's all this?"

"Well," Chris replied, "If Mohammed won't come to the mountain, then the mountain will come to Mohammed…"

"What?" I exclaimed, looking into the bag that he was holding. "There's a turkey in here!"

"Yep, took a trip to the store last night after our match and picked up a few things. I was able to find a turkey that was already defrosted."

The guys all walked past me, grinning at me jovially, and I shut the door after them.

Setting everything down in the kitchen, I heard them bustling about.

"Hey Gab, just stay in the living room and relax okay? Everything's under control. We'll take care of everything," Chris promised me.

Turning on the television to watch the History Channel, I heard the three of them fumbling about in the kitchen. Groaning, I got up off of the couch and made my way into the kitchen. "Okay, out, all of you - there's not enough room for the four of us in here."

Sighing in relief, the three made their way out to the living room, plunking themselves down on the couch and loveseat, and turning the television channel to a football game.

Unpacking the grocery bags, I assessed the supplies on hand. Lifting the turkey out of the bag and into the sink, I swore softly.

"What was that?" Chris called out from the living room.

"A 23 pounder? You bought a 23-pound turkey? Who else is joining us - the entire WWF crew?"

I heard laughter, and the sound of hands slapping knees. "Well, we were hungry," called out Jeff.

"Y'all are pigs," I retorted back from the kitchen, only to hear the three of them snort at me in return.

Slitting open the plastic casing on the turkey, I removed the giblets and the neck, setting them into a pot and covering them with water and seasoning on the stove. After bringing them to a boil, I turned the mixture down so that it would simmer for the next 45 minutes.

"Hey guys, I need a volunteer," I called out to them.

"I thought you said that there wasn't room for us," retorted Chris.

"There's not room for all of you, but there's room enough for one Jerky Boy to join me. After all Jerky, you want turkey don't you?"

Putting Chris to work chopping up fresh mushrooms, celery and onions, I asked him how he was planning on preparing the meal if they had stayed at home.

"Well actually I was counting on you joining us and…"

"Cooking dinner for you?"

"Well, I've never cooked a turkey before, and Matt and Jeff don't cook except to open up cans and microwave things," he said, smiling at me somewhat sheepishly.

"You're quite the sly one," I observed somewhat dryly.

After he had finished chopping the vegetables, we walked back out into the living room together. Sitting on the couch between Matt and Jeff, I put an arm around each one of their necks and hugged them both to me, kissing each brother noisily on top of their heads. We proceeded to catch up with one another, and soon it was time to make the stuffing and put the bird into the oven.

After sautéing the vegetables in butter and adding the mixture along with broth from the giblet mix so that the bread cubes were barely saturated, I cup up a few apples and canned waterchesnuts to add to the mixture.

Calling out to the living room that I needed help once more, I heard groans answering my request due apparently to the exciting play that was just being made in the game. Jeff was nice enough to volunteer to help out however, and wandered into the kitchen to assist me. I put him to work, having him hold the turkey up on its end so that I could stuff the neck cavity. After pinning the skin flap of the neck closed, he laid the turkey onto the rack, holding it in place while I stuffed the body cavity.

While we were working he shared with me that he always looked forward to the holidays, enjoying the opportunity to spend time with his family at home. I smiled up at him, telling him that I never knew that he was a softie. Grinning back in response, he shrugged his shoulders lightly and asked if I wanted him to set the turkey in the oven yet. Telling him no, that we weren't quite done, I washed my hands and then opened the refrigerator to set some butter into a bowl, microwaving it for a few seconds so that it would soften. Telling him to wash his hands once more, we both proceeded to dip our hands in the pliant butter and spread it over the bird, making sure that we reached in between the wings and the other crevices to spread the butter evenly.

After taking turns washing the butter off of our hands, I covered the turkey tightly with foil and had Jeff set it into the oven. Setting the timer for an hour to remind myself to baste it, I followed Jeff back into the living room.

The next few hours passed by happily, and we launched ourselves full force into several games of Monopoly, enjoying ourselves thoroughly and stopping periodically to catch Chris attempting to cheat.

When the turkey was almost done much later in the day, I put Matt and Jeff to work in the kitchen peeling potatoes and preparing a green salad. Lifting the foil off of the turkey, I let it brown for the last hour that it was in the oven. At last it was completed, cooling on the counter, and I turned my attention away from it to prepare the mashed potatoes.

Finally sitting down to enjoy our meal together, we had a wonderful dinner, laughing and exchanging various tall tales from our collective childhoods. Telling Chris that I hoped he was looking forward to eating turkey for the next week, I laughed and pointed at all the leftover meat. Groaning, his stomach bulging, he waddled his way over to sprawl like a beached whale onto my loveseat.

Matt and Jeff were nice enough to help me clean up the kitchen, Jeff washing the dishes while Matt dried, handing them to me in turn to put away, while I packed up the leftovers for Chris to take home with them. Sharing their excitement at seeing their family during the Thanksgiving holiday, I told them both that I had missed them very much.

After the dishes had been washed and put away, we all made our way back into the living room, crowding on the couch together, laughing at Chris who was gasping somewhat in distress, panting about having eaten too much.

A few hours later we were ready for pumpkin pie, which Chris gobbled down greedily, momentarily forgetting his gastrointestinal distress of just a short while before. Looking into my refrigerator for some whip cream to add onto the pie, I noticed a container of eggnog sitting on the top shelf of my refrigerator. Asking the bunch in the living room who wanted it, I was told no one. Giving everyone a scoop of whip cream, I settled back onto the couch, looking over to see Chris scootch his way off the loveseat to sit on the floor with his back supported by the couch, a hopeful look in his eye. Sighing, I went over and sat behind him, leaning him back against me and began to massage his neck and shoulders. Groaning, he laid his head onto his chest, complaining to me that he never received massages anymore. Reminding him that he received them nightly after each performance, he laughed at being caught in his fib.

Selecting a movie to put into the VCR, we further relaxed for the remainder of the evening. Chris got up after awhile to have his place taken by Matt, and then by Jeff. I told them it was a good thing I didn't charge, or they'd all owe me a princely sum indeed.

After the movie had finished, Chris said that he was going home, and thanked me for fixing dinner. Packing up the leftovers so that he could take them with him, I set the eggnog into a bag only to be told to hang onto it, and looked around to see Matt and Jeff smiling back at me. Telling me that they wanted some of my eggnog French toast tomorrow morning for breakfast, I laughed at them, telling them that I admired their subtlety. Walking over to the door to see them out, Matt hung back with me, telling me that he wanted to talk to me for awhile. Saying goodnight to Chris and Jeff, I shut the door and we made our way back into the living room.

Matt wasted no time, getting to the heart of the matter immediately and asked me what was wrong. Smiling at him, I told him nothing, that everything was fine as usual. Frowning at me slightly, he told me sternly not to lie to him, and asked me the question once more.

Sighing, I caught him up on the events that had occurred since he and Jeff had visited me last. Telling him about my time spent with Scott at his cabin, and then the recent visit from him, he listened quietly, lifting his eyes from mine occasionally to look out the window and into the night.

Feeling comfortable opening up to him, I confided in him about my feelings for Scott, and the kiss that we had shared and my puzzlement at his change in attitude. Still quiet, Matt let me talk until I was finished. Telling me that he didn't understand Scott's attitude either and understood now why I was upset, he reminded me to take care of myself, and to not let this event interfere with the course of my life more than necessary. When I told him that it was so much easier said than done, he replied that he completely understood.

Changing the subject, tired of thinking about Scott, I asked him how he was doing. He said that he enjoyed performing with Jeff, and felt so lucky to be paid for doing something that he loved so much. I asked him if he was seeing anyone, and he shook his head no. I told him once again how much his friendship meant to me, and that he was a very special man, who had a lot to share with a lucky someone in his future. Smiling somewhat wistfully, he told me that he hoped so, adding that he wished it would be sooner rather than later.

Yawning, I told him that I was going to bed, and asked him if he wanted me to drive him back to Chris' place. Nodding no, he asked if he could sleep over, and I shrugged, telling him that he could if he wanted to, that there was always room in the spare bedroom.

The next morning there was a knock at the door, with a sleepy Chris and Jeff looking back at me, a grocery bag in hand filled with a carton of eggs, some bacon, and a loaf of Texas toast. Laughing a good morning to them, I let them in, and made some coffee for us all to have. Jeff wandered back to the guest bedroom to wake Matt up, setting his clothing and shaving bag into his room. Hearing their voices and realizing that Matt wanted to shower, I called out to him that there were some clean towels that he could use in the bottom drawer of the dresser in the guestroom.

Walking back into the dining room to join Chris and I while Matt was showering, Jeff asked me when breakfast would be ready. Telling him that I would start it now, I ruffled his hair lightly, teasing him that I wished he'd pick a hair color that he liked and stick with it.

Hearing a knock at the door, I looked at Chris and Jeff with a puzzled expression, wondering who it could be. Opening the door, I saw my friend Cassie standing on my doorstep. Smiling at her I let her in. Walking into the dining room with her in tow I introduced her to Chris and Jeff, who smiled in greeting and mumbled hello over their cups of coffee. Telling her to have a seat, I asked her what she was up to.

"I was in the area, and wanted to know if you had some free time later today so that we could study together," she told me.

"Sure thing. Oh, I don't mean to be rude. Cassie and I have an art history class together," I explained to Chris and Jeff.

"Oh God, please tell me that we're not going to be discussing art history or any other type of history this early in the morning," Chris whined plaintively.

"Don't be rude Jerky," I gently admonished him. "If you took some of the time you spent focusing on useless rock trivial and channeled it into a semi-educational area, you'd…"

Laughing, Chris took a sip of his coffee and rolled his eyes in reply.

"Cassie, would you like to join us for breakfast?"

"Sure, if it's not any bother. If I'm interrupting then…"

Shushing her and telling her that she wasn't interrupting in any way, I walked into the kitchen and poured her a cup of coffee. Cracking some eggs into a large bowl and adding some eggnog to the mixture after I had whipped them thoroughly, I turned to my spice rack for the cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla. Heating up the frying pan, I began to fry up the French toast, stopping to lay the bacon out into another frying pan and cooking that as well.

Cassie joined me in the kitchen, asking if she could help. Thanking her, I asked her to cut up some fruit for a salad, showing her where all the fruit was kept in the crisper in the refrigerator.

Wandering into the dining room fresh from his shower, Matt called out, "Hey - it smells good in here!"

Turning around I smiled at him, and he stopped in surprise when he saw our visitor. Looking around at the sound of his voice, Cassie stopped while cutting up the bananas and blushed when she saw him. Seeing that he was wandering around as usual in his typical at home attire of jeans and not much else I laughed softly, seeing Cassie's eyes widen in appreciation as she took in his physique. It looked like the admiration was fairly mutual as Matt took in her petite figure and beautiful long red hair with obvious appreciation. Introducing them to one another, I looked over Cassie's head at Chris, and saw the look of glee that passed over his features. Silently pitying Matt somewhat for the ribbing that he was sure to endure before the day was over, I met Jeff's gaze with a smile, seeing his pleasure at witnessing his brother speechless for a change.

Breakfast finally finished, we all sat at the table together, enjoying our meal and laughing at all the funny stories that Matt and Jeff were telling, obviously competing for attention and attempting to outdo one another. Behaving in a gallant fashion, Matt offered Cassie the last piece of French toast with a large smile and she flushed lightly, focusing her attention suddenly on cutting up her toast into very small pieces. Matt began to tease her about the tiny bites that she was taking and I had to laugh, never before being privileged to witness Matt's flirting technique in action.

Sitting around for another hour visiting with one another, Cassie suddenly stood up, saying that she had to leave to go run an errand and would meet me back here early that evening for our studying session. Telling the guys that she had enjoyed meeting them, they all smiled at her in return, and I noticed a special twinkle in Matt's eyes.

Walking her over to the door to see her out, Matt joined us, her coat in his hands. Holding it out to help her put it on, she thanked him, smiling up at him while blushing prettily once more. Closing the door after her, I laughed and reached up to pinch Matt on his cheek.

"What was that for?" he grinned down at me, rubbing his cheek lightly.

"You're such a flirt!" I laughed at him. "I take it you like my friend, eh?"

"Well, she seems like a nice person, and she's beautiful as well. It's nice that I've finally met one of your younger friends….oof," he exclaimed, as I playfully punched him on his arm. "What did I say?" he asked, all innocence.

"Are you calling me an old lady?" I asked him.

"I never said that you were old, only that you're older," he replied, chuckling.

The threesome left my place about half an hour later, saying that they had to get to the airport to fly out to Cincinnati for their next performance. Saying our good-byes once more, I was sorry to see them go, and wished them all a happy Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving came and went, and I tried keeping myself busier than ever. Hearing from Chris that he would be back in town the week before Christmas, I told him that I looked forward to spending some time with him, deciding that it was time for me to be social for a change and get on with my life. For the next 3 weeks I thought of Scott only periodically, waking up on more than one occasion however with his name on my lips and sweat beading my brow, caught up in the throes of yet more subliminal erotica.

My friend Cassie kept me company, and we met up regularly to have study sessions and just shoot the breeze. She was a nice person, a bit timid and shy, and our friendship deepened over the next few weeks. She asked me several times about Matt, and I grinned, telling her that he must have made quite an impression on her indeed. Laughing, she blushed and told me that he seemed like a nice guy, and I told her with complete sincerity that he was the best. Asking me when he would be back in town next, I replied that I wasn't sure, that I thought that he and his brother Jeff would be going home to spend some time with their family over the Christmas holidays. If she wanted me to, I would let her know if I heard from him. I informed her that he was a professional wrestler and she was surprised to hear this, and then proceeded to pick my brain for any other information pertaining to him.

I tried to get into the holiday spirit, but was missing my mother terribly at this time of year. Facing my first Christmas without her, I tried to keep myself from falling into a blue funk. I devoted my energy to studying for my finals. When they were over and school was now officially out until the spring semester started in another 4 weeks I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that I could finally relax and cut loose a bit. And cut loose I did.

When Chris finally arrived back into town, off of the road until after Christmas, we spent time together as promised, going to watch a few movies and in general living life with juvenile-like hedonism, and I enjoyed every decadent moment of it. Feeling foot loose and fancy free for a change, I even told Chris that I'd go out to a nightclub with him that weekend, trying not to let my last experience spoil any potential fun. Even though I usually didn't like nightclubs, I felt a huge spring coiled up in my center, begging for release. I decided to try and vent my pent up frustration through dancing and socializing for a change.

Saturday night arrived, and I was ready to go, deciding to really dress up for once. Unearthing my black leather mini skirt from its forgotten location at the back of my closet, I decided to live dangerously for a change, and put on a sheer black silk blouse with a black lace push up bra beneath it, adding a pair of comfortable heels that I could dance in. I drew the line at wearing pantyhose however, having always hated the wretched things. With my hair miraculously cooperating with me for a change, I styled it in waves letting it fall over my shoulders, and spent some time making up my face, approving of my reflection after several moments spent critiquing my appearance.

Hearing a knock at my door, I opened it up and let Chris into my apartment, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in my appearance.

"Hey - are you going to work the corner in that outfit?" he teased, eyeing me appreciatively.

"Do you think it's too much?" I replied, wondering if I should go in and change my outfit.

"Some guys would say it wasn't enough," he laughed. "I'm just kidding with you, lighten up why don't'cha. You look beautiful and you know it. Are you ready?"

"Sure am Freddie," I replied with a grin, and we left for the nightclub.

Walking inside, we got a table at the back of the club, making ourselves comfortable. Asking me if I wanted anything to drink, I told Chris yes and then proceeded to order a margarita with a shot of Quervo on the side. Raising his eyebrows slightly in surprise, he was nevertheless back at our table shortly, drinks in hand. Noticing that he was drinking a club soda, I asked him if he was the designated driver for the evening.

"Yep, that's me. I want you to do something for me tonight okay Gab?"

"Sure, what's that?" I replied, licking salt from my hand, draining my shot glass with a small shudder and then biting into the slice of lime with a small grimace.

"Have some fun okay? Can you do that for me?"

"Yes sir," I said smiling at him, happy to comply.

Drinking my margarita I looked out onto the dance floor somewhat longingly, and Chris laughed when he noticed my expression. Sighing, he got up, motioning for me to follow him. Warming up with a slow dance, we twirled around on the dance floor, in a slightly ungraceful fashion.

"God, I know now what to get you for Christmas," he muttered into my ear.

"What's that?"

"Dancing lessons - you're about as graceful as a wildebeest…ow!" He exclaimed, as I elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "What was that for?"

"Don't be rude Jerky," I replied, laughing at him. "Okay, so do you think it's that obvious that I never go out dancing?"

"Slightly," he replied, pleading with me to try not to impale his foot again with the spiked heel of my shoe.

After the song had ended a few minutes later, we were back at the table, and I had a fresh margarita and another shot glass in hand. Downing the shot and working on my margarita, Chris and I made small talk until I noticed that his attention was diverting away from me to a beautiful blonde sitting at the table next to us with her friends. Laughing at him, I told him to go and ask her to dance, and he replied that he didn't want to be rude, leaving me all alone at the table. Rolling my eyes at him, I told him to go for it, that I was a big girl and would be just fine sitting here by myself for awhile.

Watching Chris saunter his way over to the table to make his move I laughed, seeing the smile of pleasure that crossed the woman's face as he asked her to dance. Walking her out onto the dance floor with a thumbs up in my direction, I raised my glass in salute to him, thinking how cute he was.

Finishing my drink, I made my way over to the bar, ordering yet another margarita to keep me company at the table. Feeling myself beginning to relax, I sat in my chair, sipping my drink and watching all the dancers out on the dance floor. Feeling a tap at my elbow, I looked beside me and then let my eyes travel upward to see a handsome brunette asking me if I cared to join him for a dance. After a second of hesitation I decided why not, I might as well enjoy myself and get in some much needed dancing practice while I was here.

Feeling him grab ahold of my elbow and lead me out onto the dance floor, I turned around to face him, and let the dancing commence. Slowly relaxing my muscles, I moved my body to the rhythm of the music, feeling the drum beat pulsing through my body as we danced together. A burning sensation building slightly in the center of my being, I remembered belatedly that alcohol had always acted as an aphrodisiac to my system. Relaxing further, I began to release my inhibitions, letting him slide his hand around my waist as his knee slid in between mine and he began to grind lightly against me. Looking over his shoulder to see Chris dancing with his beauty on the other side of the dance floor, Chris opened his eyes to see me watching him, a look of surprise darting across his features, followed by a smile.

The song ending, my partner wrapped his arms around my waist when the next song began, a slow sensual number. Holding me tightly against his body, the two of us relaxing against one another, we swayed back and forth to the rhythm of the music. I closed my eyes in pleasure, feeling the heat of his breath against the side of my neck, a primal thirst beginning to grow rapidly in my body that begged to be quenched.

Trying very hard not to think about how long it had been since I'd last had sex, my body shivered involuntarily in response to the scent of my partners pheromones, and as a fog began to descend over my mind, I realized how hungry my body was for physical love. Plain and simple, I needed a man. No strings attached, no promises, and no complications.

Gazing over my partner's shoulder, I suddenly tensed up when I saw a figure clothed in black sitting over at a table across the room, watching me. It was Scott.

"What the hell is he doing here?" I muttered, scowling slightly in Scott's direction.

"What was that?" My dance partner murmured into my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin making me squirm slightly, my body suddenly heavy with pent up desire.

"Nothing," I whispered back to him. Saying that I needed to visit the ladies room I stepped away from him, making my way over to my table. Seeing that Chris and his new lady friend were sitting with one another and apparently engrossed in deep conversation, he looked up to smile at me, asking me if I was enjoying myself. Telling him that I was, I picked up my purse, heading off towards the bathroom.

Coming out of the stall, I paused for a moment after washing my hands to fluff my hair and freshen up my lipstick. Opening the door to the bathroom to walk out into the hallway I ran head on into Scott, who had followed me and was standing there waiting for me to exit the bathroom.

Smiling at him tightly, I told him hello.

"Hello to yourself as well," he said, his eyes glittering dangerously as they wandered over my frame in a leisurely fashion. "You look like you're having fun tonight."

"Thanks, I am. It's nice to get out for a change and enjoy myself. When did you get into town?"

"I've been here for a few days," he shrugged, looking away from me. "I'm staying with Chris."

"Why that little…" I muttered, craning my neck in Chris' direction. "He didn't tell me that you were here."

"That's because I asked him not to," Scott replied, looking at me with a hard expression in his eyes. "Come outside with me for a moment."

"Look, I've got someone waiting for me and I think it would be rude to…"

"Keep him waiting? Come on - this will only take a minute."

Sighing and deciding to get whatever it was over with, I followed Scott out the back door of the club, closing the door behind us and leaned against the wall facing him while crossing my arms across my chest, waiting for him to speak. At least we had some privacy here and some quiet in which to talk to one another.

Turning around to face me suddenly, he pulled me tightly into the circle of his arms, backing me up against the wall. I gasped in surprise, and he took advantage of the moment and proceeded to lock his mouth over mine, his lips ravaging me fiercely.

Pushing him away from me, I asked him what the hell he thought he was doing.

"It's very simple. I've decided to give you what you want," he breathed, holding my arms down at my sides while he latched his full lips beneath my jaw, nipping at my skin lightly. "After all, since you appear to be giving it away to strangers in there, I thought the least that I could do as a friend would be to assist you in…"

Wrenching away from his grasp, I slapped him hard across the face.

"How dare you! I'm tired of your bullshit! You've been playing hot and cold with me for well over a month now, and I'm sick of your games. Do you understand me? Just leave me the hell alone."

Slamming my body against his in the middle of my tirade, Scott entwined his left hand firmly in my hair and gripped my ass with his other hand, holding me in place while he kissed me savagely, ignoring my protests.

Feeling the heat of the sun beginning to course through my veins, I ceased fighting and lifted my arms around his back, pressing myself closer to his delicious warmth. The smell of leather and man surrounded me and I moaned as I felt him walk us back up against the wall, his hands moving down to cup my breasts roughly through my blouse, while running his tongue along the length of my neck to lap at the skin in the hollow of my throat.

Reaching down and quickly grasping both of my thighs he lifted me, pressing my back against the wall while supporting the weight of my body with his. Wrapping my legs around his waist instinctively, I arched my back against him as I felt him slide his warm hands up my legs, his thumbs diving into the heat of my groin. Moaning his name, I pressed myself up against him frantically, my body now fully on fire. Skimming his right hand beneath the edge of my panties, he pushed a finger into my wet heat, and I gasped and bucked my hips forward in response as a sudden surge of pleasure shot like a lightening bolt through my body.

"Is this what you want?" he whispered hotly against my ear.

"Yes…" I breathed in response. "Oh yes…God you feel so good…"

"Then this was your goal tonight? To be fucked by anyone who fit the bill?"

Pushing at him with all of my strength, I pulled my skirt back down over my legs and glared at him, not believing that he could be so cruel.

"Fuck you," I said to him through clenched teeth, turning around to walk back inside the nightclub.

"You will, tonight," he promised, his eyes taking on a predatory look.

Stalking my way back over to my table, I interrupted Chris, telling him that I was leaving.

"Why are you leaving so soon?" he asked, slightly puzzled by my apparent anger.

"Because your friend is an asshole and I don't need to subject myself to his demeaning remarks," I retorted, jerking my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the hallway. "By the way, thanks for telling me that Scott was in town, FRIEND." With that final remark, I turned around, seeing Scott making his way over to our table.

Chris turned to his dancing partner and told her that he needed to take care of something, and she smiled in a slightly puzzled fashion before walking back over to join her friends at the next table.

Scott walked up to me and wrapped his hand firmly around my upper arm, trying to prevent me from leaving. Seeing that his interference was now required, Chris stepped in between us, telling Scott in a quiet voice to let me go. Turning to me and telling me that he'd drive me home right away, Chris walked over to the next table and whispered something into the woman's ear.

In a moment he was back over at my side, guiding me out of the club with his hand on my elbow as I seethed in anger.

Scott followed us out of the club and Chris turned to him, telling him that he'd be back shortly and to wait for him. Swearing loudly, Scott turned around to walk back into the club.

Driving me home, Chris apologized for what had happened, telling me that he didn't know that Scott would be coming to the club tonight. I listened to his explanation in stony silence, too far-gone in my riled emotions to talk sensibly. Getting out of Chris' car when we reached my apartment, I told him that I wasn't mad at him, and apologized for taking my anger out on him. He told me that he'd call me the next morning and we'd talk then.

Walking into my apartment I threw my purse onto the floor, swearing loudly as I made my way into the kitchen to pour myself a small glass of whiskey. Trying to settle my turbulent emotions, I sat in front of the television for awhile, Scott's harsh words still ringing in my ears, my body still on fire from his touch.

I got ready for bed, telling myself to just call it a night. Hearing a knock at my door a little while later, I sat up in bed, surprised and wondering if it was a figment of my alcohol soaked imagination. The knocking grew more insistent, and I walked over to answer the door, a bit unsteady on my feet. Opening the door, I saw Scott standing in front of me, and I attempted to close the door in his face. Pushing his hand inside to force the door open, he walked into the apartment, closing the door behind him and grabbing me into his arms without saying a word.

Thrusting my back against the wall of my hallway, he grabbed my face and pulled it up to meet his in one swift motion as he slashed his mouth hungrily across mine.

Feeling like my body was out of control and riding a roller coaster of lust, I pulled my lips from his, only to feel his mouth move across my cheek to nip at my earlobe, his warm breath ragged in my ear.

"Scott, what are we doing? I think we should sit down…"

"You talk to much. Can't you let your body talk for a change?" he muttered against my ear.

"Damn you," I breathed. "What do you want from me?"

"The same thing that you want from me," he growled into my ear.

All the blood in my body suddenly rushing to my groin, I pulled his mouth from my earlobe to fasten it once more upon mine. Pushing away from me momentarily to remove his coat and throw it impatiently over his shoulder, he lifted the bottom of his shirt over his head and quickly cast the garment aside, pressing his bare heaving chest against the thin material of my short silk nightgown.

Running my nails up the warmth of his chest, I pressed my lips against the side of his neck, biting and sucking on his skin, reveling in the taste of salt and smokiness that rolled over my tastebuds.

All the pent up desire that we'd both suppressed for weeks suddenly igniting, Scott pushed himself away from me and put his hands to the neck of my nightgown, yanking downwards with a savage motion to rip the garment from my body. Unbuttoning his pants and stepping out of them quickly, he lifted me up against the wall and impatiently wrapped my legs around his waist, his thick cock pushing insistently against the thin barrier of my panties.

Feeling his hands tightly gripping hold of my buttocks as his lips latched hungrily onto my hardened nipple, I sucked in my breath at the erotic shock of pleasure that was suddenly coursing through my system, made more intense when he pulled at my nipple with his teeth, growling savagely as he let the hard metal of his tongue stud rub roughly against my tender flesh. Feeling the sweet sensation of pleasure and pain begin to collide through my system head on, he began to thrust his hips up against me, driving my body higher up against the wall with his forcefulness. Cursing when he realized that I was too far gone in an erotic haze to have the sense to unlock my legs from around his waist so that he could remove my panties, he reached around to the side and ripped them off in one brutal motion, and I winced slightly as I felt the momentary bit of elastic against my skin.

Impatiently pushing the large head of his cock against my slippery entrance, he thrust home in one savage motion, burying himself to the hilt in my tightness and I screamed his name, my body wincing slightly from the shock of his entry. Pulling his mouth from mine he closed his eyes, sweat beginning to bead along his brow as he bucked his hips against me, moving his hands to grip my hips tightly as he lifted me down to meet each one of his powerful thrusts.

Cursing suddenly, he pulled me away from the wall, my legs still locked tightly around his waist, and quickly walked us both over to my dining room table, pausing to shove everything off of the surface in one impatient motion. Laying me on top of the table he pulled out of me long enough to lift my legs over his shoulders before thrusting home with full force once more, the force of his movement sliding my body across the table.

Gasping, unable to catch my breath, my reality was suddenly sucked into a vortex of blinding light and an intense burning between my legs, a burning that I thought will kill me if it continued and kill me for certain if it didn't. Begging him to ride me harder, I felt him pull back from me and slam into my body again as hard as he could, the head of his cock hitting my cervix and making me wince slightly in pain, but I couldn't bear for this sweet sensation to stop or to end. Pummeling my body relentlessly, he continued to ride me until I begged him that I couldn't take it anymore, and still he ignored my pleas, his eyes shut tightly in concentration, his breathing ragged and droplets of sweat beginning to drip from his body down onto mine.

Feeling my body beginning to splinter I gasped, writhing uncontrollably on the table, my hips arching up to meet the savageness of his thrusts. No longer in control of my body and willingly turning all control over to him, I raked my fingernails down his back, hearing him hiss in response. Reaching down with his right hand, he rubbed my clitoris while hearing my voice rise in pleasure until I finally screamed loudly, my muscles tensing up so hard that my back bowed off of the table. Hearing his yell of completion moments later, I felt the hot rush of his semen enter my body, his cock twitching uncontrollably within me as he threw his head back, his throat swelling with the primal cry of pleasure that flew from his lips like a prayer to the sky.

Collapsing onto me, he buried his face into my neck, panting harshly into my ear.

"Jesus H. Fucking Christ," he moaned, trying to catch his breath.

"You called?" I murmured, lifting my feet to skim my toes along the length of his back.

He slipped out of me and stood up, walking into the kitchen to get a drink of water. I followed him, gasping softly when I saw the rows of bleeding scratch marks that marked his back.

"What is it?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Your back - I scratched the hell out of it - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"That's okay, they're ownership marks," he said, gulping down the glass of water in greedy swallows. "You'll have a few of your own before this night is over, that I can promise you."

***Thoughts from Gabrielle, Sunday morning, 1:06 a.m.***

A whisper is heard and then a shout, as two bodies riding the great ocean that is called passion violently collide together, the hulls of their ships slamming into one another. Limbs intertwine with limbs, forming a new body of land, a new continent yet to be named. All concept of time is now locked into suspended animation, and a new sphere of reality blazes like a comet through my universe. I am an astronaut, an adventurer, a discoverer and a seafarer; my mission is to delve into the flesh that is you, to conquer your peaks and explore your valleys, to discover your unknown crevices and to cross the river that is made up of your tears. You are the alpha and I am the omega, and this I call life.

Suddenly a stranger to myself, my body has just given birth to a new aspect of my being. Thoughts, wishes and fantasies have suddenly come to life in one moment of crystal clarity. I am living in the now. My primal urges have been released; a doorway leading to a new reality that is better left closed. It's so much easier to play safe, think safe, and be safe. Losing control is a frightening jump for our psyche. No longer denying my body what it wants, craves or needs, I am freedom imbued, and thus a new hue of my soul has been born anew.

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

Leaning against the counter in my kitchen, I watch Scott as he drains the water from his glass in huge gulps, his lust not merely contained to the act of sex. He eats life - biting into it and reveling in the sticky juice that runs down his face like a piece of luscious fruit, rind and all.

Reaching over and shutting the light off in the kitchen and dining room, I gaze at the silver streak of moonlight that dances across his flesh, adding new images to his tattoos as it licks its way across his skin lovingly, like a midnight lover.

Still gasping for breath, he sets the glass down into the sink before turning around to face me. Eyes shadowed by lids that are heavy with desire he opens his mouth slightly, a drop of water clinging precariously to the fullness of his bottom lip. Standing there facing one another, we each let our eyes drift over the other's body, the hunger in our soul fulfilled by the beauty that is revealed to each of us. Like adversaries on a battlefield sizing one another up, we suddenly tense up at the same moment, the primitive song in our blood pounding through our collective senses.

Reaching forward to lick the drop of water that is taunting me so deliciously, I trail the tip of my tongue up the stubble of his chin to rest it on the pillow of his bottom lip, sucking his flesh into my mouth slowly as the water drop falls at last and becomes mine, an offering of shared wealth.

Desire suddenly unleashed once more, my body is suddenly airborne, my breath taken away from my lungs in one swift moment as my marble god suddenly comes to life, tossing me over his shoulder as he marches with long determined strides towards my bedroom. I squirm in protest over his shoulder, my hair hanging down his back to caress his firm buttocks with lustful fingers and I suddenly feel the palm of his hand slapping my left ass cheek sharply in reprimand, the stinging sensation making me gasp.

Tossing me onto my bed in one easy motion, he stands before me with his hands on his hips, surveying his spoils of war. Suddenly a conqueror, he tells me in a terse voice to stay where I am, and something in his vocal inflection tells me that he means what he says. Opening the drawers in my dresser, he rifles impatiently through my clothing before finally finding an object that will suit his need.

My curiosity piqued, he turns back towards me and my eyes widen slightly. Holding a long scarf in his hands, he leans forward swiftly and without warning grabs my wrists to bind them together. Pushing my arms up over my head, he ties the other end of the scarf to my oak bedpost. Feeling somewhat apprehensive I test my bonds and confirm my suspicions that I am tightly bound, a sudden slave to his mercy.

Walking into my bathroom he gathers the candles that decorate my bathtub and brings them into the bedroom, setting them onto the nightstand. Locating some matches he lights them all, a soft crackling emitting into the air as each flicker of light is added one by one to the final result that now laps at my flesh.

Walking over to my side, he looks down at me, and I in turn look down at his hardness to moan aloud. Kneeling onto the bed he straddles my waist, the soft steel of his large cock running up the flat plane of my stomach to rest in between my breasts. Running his rough palms over the soft flesh of both of my inner arms, he pauses at the constraint that is holding me to ensure that all is secure.

Placing his hands on either side of my body to support his weight, he leans forward, the tip of his tongue snaking out of his mouth in a phallic dance to slowly lick a path up the length of my throat, from its hollow to the soft underside of my chin. Pushing his hips into me in a leisurely fashion, I feel his cock slide between my breasts.

Bending down to kiss me, he forces my lips open, the stud in his tongue raking across mine as he circles my tongue with increasing pressure. Pulling his lips suddenly from mine he sits upright, the muscles in his strong thighs flexing as he transfers his weight onto his knees. Running his large hands over the softness of my chest, he reaches up to cup each one of my breasts in turn, squeezing a bit roughly as I moan aloud.

Taking my left nipple into his mouth he suckles me like a hungry babe, his tongue impatiently lapping at its tip. Beginning to lash me a bit more intensely with that same lovely tongue he bites down unexpectedly, and as my body jolts in sudden shock he instantly withdraws his teeth and sucks gently, apology apparent.

Reaching over to the nightstand he grabs a candle, bringing it over and then proceeds to dribble a thin layer of wax between my breasts and down the center of my stomach. Hissing suddenly, my body arches as I feel the heat of the melted wax making contact with my skin and in an instant that sensuous mouth of his is there to sooth me, blowing coolness onto my flesh to counteract the heat.

Bringing his left thigh up and over my body he sits kneeling beside me, his left hand parting my thighs insistently. Probing his large fingers into my tender slick flesh, he inserts two of them into my tightness, sliding in with exquisite slowness as I arch my hips upwards, moaning aloud in response. Repositioning himself so that he is now lying between my legs, his face nuzzled into the silk of my inner thighs, he parts my labia with both of his thumbs and leans forward, teasing me unmercifully while very lightly running the tip of his tongue from the entrance of my vagina up to my clitoris. Attempting to buck my hips upward in an attempt to catch more of his delicious tongue, my efforts are thwarted when he roughly grasps my hips in both of his hands and holds me still, reminding me without words who is in control.

My body slowly lighting on fire, I feel him impatiently grasp my clitoris into his mouth, sucking the hardened nub inside as he bites down suddenly, riding out the sudden lurch that my body gives in reaction. Inserting his finger back into my wetness he thrusts suddenly and deeply, his finger curling upwards while at the same moment biting down and lashing my clitoris unmercifully with his tongue and o my god please don't stop don't you ever dare to stop I can't breath or think and I'm….

Feeling the vibration of his growl shoot through my body I break loose from his tight grasp with a cry, wrapping my legs around his head to press myself closer to the source of life itself. His finger plunging rapidly into me, he then replaces it with his tongue, and I once again feel the slick metal of his tongue stud stroking my sensitive inner flesh.

Determined not to let go, my lover runs his face up my pulsing slickness, the stubble on his chin raking my delicate flesh as his teeth grab my clitoris once more, finger thrusting into my softness, not letting go, stroking, invading, thrusting, pillaging, until my world shatters in a shock of lightening and I scream aloud as the force of my orgasm rents my soul asunder, all semblance of reason vanished from my being. Riding out the storm, he waits until my body finally ceases to shudder before letting go, a husky chuckle of satisfaction and a look of smug pride descending over his features.

I am still attempting to catch my breath when he reaches his strong hands beneath my body and flips me over, rendering me on my knees, my weight now supported by my elbows. Running his fingers over my buttocks he pinches them, cupping his hands to squeeze the flesh and then sharply slaps each in turn, leaving an imprint of this moment in time. Leaning forward, he kisses my tender skin in apology, his tongue leisurely tracing the outline of each handprint in turn.

Feeling the tip of his cock teasing the slick entrance to my vagina I moan aloud, attempting to press myself back against him. Holding my hips tightly once more he leans forward, maddeningly keeping his hardness just out of reach, taunting me. I feel the softness of his lips countered by the rough stubble of his beard as he runs his face along my back, his mouth sucking and nipping greedily at my flesh in turn.

Slowly he enters me, taking his own sweet time and ignoring my wordless pleas. Not even halfway inside of me he leans forward, running his fingers through my hair and caressing my back with his palms. Pushing my hair aside he reveals my neck, and thrusting forward with a sudden, sharp snap of his pelvis he impales me deliciously. Holding my hips firmly he jackhammers his cock into my tight flesh, and I feel myself stretched almost painfully, filled to the brink. My breath comes in short sharp rasps and my eyes are soon crossing in ecstasy. When his blunt fingers reach down to rub my clitoris insistently I give a high pitched keen of pleasure as all concept of reality deserts my senses, my body aflame. Leaning forward he bites the back of my neck, holding me firmly in place while his hips continue thrusting like pistons into my body.

Wailing, I feel my muscles contracting as the sudden onslaught of orgasm rushes towards me like a freight train. Screaming his name aloud I push back against him, hearing him grunting savagely until at last he presses forward with a final low growl of completion.

Collapsing against me, I feel the sweat from his body drip onto mine, my flesh greedily lapping up his moisture. Reaching forward he unties my hands, pulling me into the circle of his arms to lie down for a brief moment of respite.

Before the night is through we'll christen my office chair, bathroom sink, couch and shower stall in a similar manner.

Working our way through the rooms of my home, we are creating a cocoon of our own pleasure, a place where all time has stopped and true reality at last begun.

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

"The End of My Pirate Days" by Mary Chapin Carpenter

"The night is soft and silent, new moon at my door

There's nothing near as quiet as the light I'm looking for

Last time that it appeared, he was lying next to me

Last time I felt this near to whispered ecstasy

And those who need adventure

They can sail the seven seas

And those who search for treasure

They must live on grander dreams

We rose and fell just like the tides

He filled my heart and soul

And I buried all my dreams for someone else to find

In my pirate days

This world is kinder to the kind that won't look back

They are the chosen few, among us now, unbowed somehow

One day he turned to me and before he took one breath

I knew I would only see his shadow in what light was left

And those who need adventure

They can sail the seven seas

And those who search for treasure

They must live on grander dreams

If I've seen his face since then,

It's only been in dreams my friend

Since I came to the end of my pirate days

If I've called his name since then

It's only been in dreams my friend

And so I came to the end of my pirate days…"

*From the album "Stones in the Road"

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

Sunday morning, 5:17 a.m.

I awaken with a headache, not yet able to discern if it's due to the alcohol I've imbibed the previous evening or yet another offering left for me from the migraine fairy.

Walking into my kitchen I swallow my medication with a large glass of water, feeling slight waves of nausea rippling through my stomach as I gulp the water down greedily, so thirsty that I feel like I've just recently returned from the Sahara.

Setting the glass down onto the kitchen counter, I walk over to the window, leaning my forehead against the glass and gasp softly as I feel my nipples connect with the icy cold metal of the window frame.

Looking out into the early dawn, deep blue darkness surrounds my vision and the world is still lifeless yet, comforting in its anonymity.

Walking back into the bedroom, I lay down onto the bed and turn my body to face Scott. His face still masked by darkness, I hear the deepness of his breathing and lay my hand gently onto his warm chest, feeling his heart beating beneath my palm.

Refuge found at last, the tears slowly course their way down my cheeks to drip onto my pillowcase. After awhile sleep finally claims me once more, bathing my pain in the balm of sweet oblivion.

"Songs of the Wave" by Kahlil Gibran

"The shore and I are lovers, drawn together by desire and pulled apart by the wind. I come from beyond the blue dusk to mix the silver of my foam with the gold of his sand. I cool the heat of his heart with my mouth. At dawn I recite the law of passion into the ears of my lover, and he gathers me to his breast. In the evening I chant the prayer of longing, and he draws me near."

Sunday morning, 9:38 a.m.

Pain. A volcanic torrent of misery throbs through my head as I turn to the source of my torment, the phone that is ringing on the nightstand. Slapping one hand onto my forehead to prevent it from exploding under the pressure and the other hand lifting up the receiver, I greet my sadist.

"WHAT?!"

"Um, good morning to you too Gabrielle! How's the head?"

"Make this quick, Chris, for the love of God."

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You haven't heard from Scott by any chance, have you?"

"Yes I have. If you're looking for him, he's over here."

Pregnant pause. "I see - is everything okay? Do I need to come over there and mediate?"

"No, everything's fine. I've gotta go Chris. I'll talk to you later okay?"

"Okay - go back to sleep."

Hanging up the phone, my body slowly rises from the bed and I wander once more into the kitchen in search of water. Quenching my thirst for the moment, I put on a pot of coffee and make my way into the bathroom, wincing slightly from the burning sensation between my legs. Turning on the shower, I turn the soreness in my body over to the throbbing massage of the hot water that's now beating over my skin. Soaping my body in a leisurely fashion, I tilt my head forward, letting the water softly pummel the back of my neck. Washing and then rinsing my hair, I reach for my washcloth and tentatively stroke the wet cotton between my legs, feeling the sweet pain of fulfillment. My body satiated for the time being, I revel in the newfound sensation of my pleasurable soreness and stiffness.

Drying off after my shower, I towel dry my hair and walk into the bedroom, the cool air raising goosebumps over my skin. Easing myself under the covers of the bed, I turn onto my side and gaze at Scott, who is still held in the peaceful throes of slumber. Hearing him breathe slowly and deeply, I lean forward and run my eyes over his facial features, taking into account how peaceful he looks while lost in the realm of dreams.

Feeling the heat that is emitting from his skin, I cuddle closer to him, pushing him gently onto his back. Running my fingernails softly down his chest, I leisurely follow the trail blazed by my fingers with my lips, pausing for a moment at his bellybutton.

Continuing my journey south, my senses are overwhelmed by the delicious musky scent that is emitting from his sex. Stroking him tentatively, I find that the tender skin of his cock is slightly sticky from our shared residue. Touching him lightly with the tip of my tongue, a delicious smoky saltiness dances across my tastebuds. Leaning forward, I proceed to bring my sleeping god to life.

I nuzzle my face to that which is the very root of man, the staff of life itself. Hearing his raspy sigh above me, I nestle into the wonder that is him. Reaching out to grip his hardness firmly, I lift his flaccid length up as I trail my tongue leisurely down the silk of his flesh to flicker my tongue against the puckered skin of his scrotum. Drawing his pouch between my soft lips, I circle his fragrant flesh with my tongue leisurely, his scent at last filling my senses deliciously. He's as beguiling to me as a Chinese treasure box, revealing layer upon layer of wonders and secrets.

Running my hands up his muscular thighs, gripping his flesh tightly, I nestle my nose into that sweet juncture where thigh meets wondrous hip. Feeling the softness of his hair caress my cheek, I trail my tongue back over to his sex.

Grasping his cock firmly in my hand, I lower my mouth to his head and gently run the satin of his skin around my lips, kissing him with reverent prayer. Sliding his flesh against the warm wetness of my palate, I feel his hips arch slowly upward towards me and a soft moan emits from his lips. Drawing him further in, I run my tongue in circles around the circumference of his building thickness and feel his hands begin to bury themselves in my tresses.

Pulling his sweet flesh out of my mouth once more, I relish in my task at hand. While stroking his hard base with my hand, I counter the strokes with my lips, sucking him into the warm wet vacuum of my mouth, my tongue rolling over him constantly in waves like the ocean which is the source of life.

His hips beginning to buck against me, he cries out and writhes on the crisp white cotton sheets in pleasure, all sense of time and space having left his being. With a final thrust against me and a cry that reverberates across the room, I feel the viscous essence of him erupting into a hot stream within my mouth, my tongue swallowing his salty offering eagerly.

Riding out the tempest of his storm, I let him slowly slide back out of my mouth, the cool air hitting his sensitized flesh. Leaning over him, I gaze into his brown eyes that are fluttering still from sleep, feeling myself falling into his dark depths.

Reaching down, I kiss his full lips softly with mine, his musk imprinted upon my mouth.

"Morning, Scott."

"What She Could Not Tell Him" by Denise Levertov

"I wanted

To know all the bones of your spine, all

The pores of your skin,

Tendrils of body hair,

To let

All of my skin, my hands,

Ankles, shoulders, breasts,

Even my shadow,

Be forever imprinted

With whatever of you

Is forever unknown to me

To cradle your sleep."

Late that evening, Scott tells me that he wants to go out and see a movie. We've hibernated for almost 24 hours now, living only for our body's pleasure and the sweet music of flesh upon flesh that we've composed together.

Stepping out of the shower, I walk into the bedroom to see that he has laid out an outfit for me to wear. Raising my eyebrows at him as I see the black leather miniskirt I wore the night before and a thin white tee shirt that he has chosen for me, I begin to dress. Reaching into my underwear drawer I am thwarted. He tells me that I'm not to wear any underwear or bra tonight. Laughing, I tell him that I'll do so only if he abides by the same rules. He shrugs, responding that he never wears underwear anyway.

We arrive at the movie theater in time to view the last show of the evening. The title of the movie doesn't matter to me, and has no bearing on my existing reality in any way. He pulls us into the back row of the theater, and we sit in chairs closest to the wall. The theater is deserted save for a few patrons who are sitting up near the front.

The movie begins and I'm not paying any attention. Instead I'm riveted to the sensuous spectacle of watching Scott eating a long cord of red licorice, slowly drawing inches of the candy into his mouth before biting off the ends neatly and then chewing voraciously. My eyes can't help but be mesmerized by the outline of his full lips, the straight line of his nose and the firm line of his jaw that is chewing with such zest.

Midway through the movie Scott leans over to me, whispering softly into my ear. Telling me to take my jacket off I do so, and he nuzzles the side of my neck while murmuring to me not to worry, that he'll keep me warm. Taking my hand, he directs me out of my seat to sit upon his lap. My back now to his chest, he reaches down with his hands and drapes my legs to lie on the outside of his. Running his hands up my shirt slowly he cups my breasts, squeezing them lightly and pinching my nipples. Feeling his lips begin to lightly kiss the side of my neck, I tilt my head to the side in order to fully capitalize on the delicious shivers that he's sending through my body.

Tracing his hands back down my torso he runs them out to my knees before retreating slowly, running his fingertips lightly against the soft skin of my inner thighs. Pushing my skirt up over my hips, he delves his hands in between the juncture of my legs. His forefinger slides into my wetness while his thumb circles lazily over my clitoris and I moan in response, twisting my head to the side to catch his mouth descending onto mine. Drinking deeply from my lips, he begins to move his finger with maddening slowness in and out of my slick corridor. Beginning to squirm on his lap, he laughs and whispers huskily to me, telling me to be quiet.

Raising his hand up to my face, he slides that same thumb that has thrilled me so deliciously into my mouth, and I grasp it firmly between my lips to draw it further into my mouth. Sucking the digit, I revel in the slightly salty taste that suddenly fills my mouth. I am now hunger personified.

With his forefinger slightly sticky from my juices he lifts up the hair from my neck to lightly dab my moisture behind each of my ears, whispering to me that he wants me to wear my own perfume that I've created for him and him alone.

Letting his hands run themselves back down over my breasts, he lifts up my shirt and kneads my breasts, the warmth of his palms contrasting deliciously with the cool air in the theater. Running his hands back down to my sex, he inserts two of his fingers into my tightness, feeling me respond to his magical touch by grinding myself firmly into his lap. Reaching down with his other hand to grasp my clitoris, he softly strokes the small nub while leaning forward to whisper a question into my ear.

"Gabrielle, sweet Gabrielle, I can end your torment for you if you ask me nicely."

"Ask you nicely for what?" I breathe back at him, panting slightly.

"Do you want me?" He sighs into my ear as he nips and licks at my earlobe.

Reaching my hand out to grasp the back of his head, I curl my fingers up into his hair and pull at it demandingly.

"Now now, play nicely with me," he says tauntingly into my ear.

"God damn you, yes I want you, of course I want you!" I hiss back at him in response.

Laughing wickedly he replies, "Now then, temper temper - behave yourself."

Telling me to raise my hips up off of him, he fumbles about until he finally pulls me back down and I can feel his thick hardness pushing insistently at the outline of my slick heat.

"Please," I breathe, reduced to begging.

"Please what?" he responds, his warm breath sending shivers down my neck.

"Damn you!"

"No, I don't think that's what you want me to do. Talk to me and tell me what you want…"

"I want your cock inside of me now!" I hiss back at him in response.

"Whatever the lady wants," he replies, letting go of my hips and I can feel myself sliding down onto him to be at last deliciously impaled by his hardness. Grasping the arms of the chair I begin to move myself up and down slowly, rolling my hips back and forth until I feel his hands once again grasping my hips and lifting me back up into the air. I slide down hard again onto him, a groan emitting from my lips.

With a low growl, he continues to hold onto my hips and lifts my body off of his, and together we work ourselves up to a frantic rhythm. Bouncing up and down onto his lap, I am forced to bite my lips hard to keep from screaming aloud. When his hand slides down to massage my clitoris while the other reaches up to pinch my nipple I bite my lip savagely, tasting the saltiness of blood filling my mouth.

Feeling my body beginning to let go, I twist my upper body in his arms and catch his lips with mine, moaning my orgasm into his mouth. Sliding my tongue into his mouth to meet his, he drinks deeply of my kiss, tasting the salt of my blood.

Bending me forward, he pumps his hips upward into me, and as he comes he leans forward to bite my shoulder, kneading my breasts roughly with his hands while I feel the pulse of his semen entering my body.

Leaning back against him, at last satiated, my body slowly begins to cool down and calm itself before rising up to reclaim my seat once more.

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

Have you ever allowed yourself to truly live for the moment? Perhaps indulged in a craving that you knew deep down in your heart might very well be self destructive to your mind, body and soul but were unable nonetheless to stop?

Like a runaway freight train you plunge into your experience head on, heedless of what everyone around you and what your own common sense is telling you. Pleading with your mind to allow you some freedom for a change, you follow your heart and dive blindly into the unknown.

What makes us break free from our self imposed chains?

All I know is that right now, at this very second in time, I'm not thinking nor caring about the future, or what possibilities might be lying in wait around the corner. My inner self has finally broken free, and I'm drunk on the experiences and teachings being bestowed upon me by Scott at this point in time.

I no longer think about love, passion and sex - I've BECOME love, passion and sex. My purpose in life has been simplified down to feeling his lips dancing their sultry tango across my flesh, tasting the musk of his skin with my tongue, embedding his scent into my very being, and riding his cock like a wave on the ocean of life itself.

I can no longer simply gaze at his hands and fingers without feeling a shudder wrack through my system, picturing and feeling those delicious instruments playing their sweet music upon the planes of my flesh. A soft moan escapes from me as I take in the poetry that is his mouth. His pheromones have drugged me, and if there's been a sensation sweeter in my life, I'm long past remembering or caring.

He told me this evening as we drifted off to sleep that he's leaving town tomorrow afternoon. Pulling the warmth of his body in to wrap itself around mine, I close my eyes and revel in the feel and smell of his body surrounding me.

We sleep.

"Before I loved you, Love, nothing was my own:

I wavered through the streets, among objects:

Nothing mattered or had a name:

The world was made of air, which waited.

I knew rooms full of ashes,

Tunnels where the moon lived,

Rough warehouses that growled, 'Get lost,'

Questions that insisted in the sand.

Everything was empty, dead, mute,

Fallen, abandoned, and decayed:

Inconceivably alien, it all

Belonged to someone else - to no one:

Till your beauty and your poverty **Love sonnet written by Pablo Neruda

Our lives can be seen as a large piece of fabric, composed of thousands of individual threads that are all unique to one another in size, texture and color. In this way, at some point in the future when my time on earth is over, I can look back upon the cloth laid out before me that was my life, and allow myself time for reflection as I softly finger the individual threads of people that came into my life at different points in time, and the lessons that each brought to me.

People come to each of us at different times in our lives for different reasons, but with a common purpose shared by all; life's teachings that help each of us to map out our own path on the journey that is life.

The thread that Scott brought to my composition was that of letting go. Opening myself up to new experiences and possibilities, learning to live in the now instead of constantly focusing solely upon the future. The lesson that he taught me was to not be afraid of getting dirty from handling the mess that is often life. Instead of relying purely upon theoretical knowledge, don't be afraid to dive in and experience the same knowledge firsthand. Bite into the fruit that is existence itself and savor its taste to the fullest; close your eyes and don't deny yourself the pleasure of feeling its sticky juice running down your chin. Half of the fun in life is making the occasional mess.

He forever changed a part of me, a part that I was to put to rest for a long time when he left the next afternoon to an unknown destination.

We both shared a strong connection, a communication link of thoughts and feelings that at times we didn't need to express verbally to one another. Secure in the knowledge of who we each were as people, we accepted each other for that which was apparent.

For this reason, we both knew that there was no future together for the two of us. Although we both shared so much, we were obviously on two very different paths in life. Scott's life was obviously meant to be a solitary one, and I respected the uniqueness that was him too much to change that which fate itself could not.

I dropped him off at the airport and kissed him goodbye, feeling the weight of my tears sliding down my cheeks as I smiled at him with all the love that was in my soul. Yes, I did love him, but that would still never make him mine.

Feeling his lips close over mine one last time, I kissed him with infinite tenderness and a deep sense of loss. Pulling back a few inches, he brought both of his thumbs up to cup my cheeks lovingly, wiping my tears away.

"I can still taste you," he murmured quietly to me.

Folding him into my arms one last time, I hugged him close, whispering to him that if he ever needed me for anything, I'd always be there for him.

Smiling at me, he then turned away and was gone.

Driving back to my empty apartment, I found a note that he'd left for me on my dresser.

"I love you Gabrielle and I'll carry you with me -

Scott"

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

EPILOGUE

"'Til You Cry," by Eddy Raven

"Somebody's out there, feeling down tonight

Somebody's hurting, and we all know why

Sometimes all the love is just not fair

People sometimes don't know how to care

And we've all been there

When the rain is the tears of a long forgotten love

And the wind sounds like the song of a lonesome dove

There ain't no shame, to feel the pain

When you're all alone, and you're all alone

So the tears won't dry 'til you cry

Somebody's out there in the sad café

Lost in a memory that they can't escape

Someone's wondering where it all went wrong

Someone's feeling like they don't belong - that's wrong

You gotta be strong

When the rain is the tears of a long forgotten love

And the wind sounds like the song of a lonesome dove

There ain't no shame, to feel the pain

When you're all alone, and you're all alone

So the tears won't dry 'til you cry

And you're all alone

'Til you cry

You're all alone

So you just cry

Go on and cry

Just lay down and cry….."

Scott had been gone from my life for a few months now, and I was wallowing in a blue funk that I just couldn't seem to snap out of. My soul ached to know whether or not I would ever find that special someone to share my life with. My time spent with Scott had left me profoundly shaken. I couldn't imagine ever feeling a connection with anyone again that I had felt with him.

Chris had attempted to contact me over the holidays, inviting me to spend some time with his family, but I hadn't returned any of his calls. Hibernating inside my apartment, while on Christmas break from school, my life developed into a simple routine that was nonetheless agonizing to live out every day. Rarely leaving my cocoon of misery, I shunned all of my friends and stayed home, reliving my time spent with Scott. I thought that I must be losing my mind, to allow someone that I had known for such a short period of time to affect me so. What was my problem?

Hearing the phone ring, I quickly checked the caller id box and saw that it was Chris calling once more. Letting the answering machine pick up the call, his concerned voice soon flooded through the living room.

"Gabrielle? Are you there? If you are, please pick up the phone. I'm worried about you. Gab? Are you home? Why won't you return my calls?"

He abruptly hung up the phone, and I turned my attention back to the television. Not paying any attention to the images that were flickering in front of me, I merely zoned out in front of it, letting my wind wander off into a blessedly peaceful fog of forgetfulness.

A short while later there was a sharp knocking at my door. Making my way over to it with a sigh, I looked through the peephole and saw Chris pacing back and forth in front of my doorstep momentarily before knocking loudly once more.

"Gabrielle - it's me, Chris. Open the door."

Sighing, realizing that I couldn't hide from him forever, I unlocked the door and opened it up to see him standing in front of me scowling, his hands on his hips.

"It's about time!" Chris grumbled at me.

"Hi Chris - I'm sorry, but I'm kind of busy right now with something and it's not a good time to.…"

Pushing his way past me into my apartment, he plopped himself down onto the couch and looked up at me, his chin jutting out in anger.

"Go on - continue - I'd like to hear this. You're busy doing what exactly? Hiding from the world? Feeling sorry for yourself? Moping?"

"Listen Chris - I don't need this right now okay? What do you want?"

"I'm here to check up on a good friend who needs to move on with her life. Sit down and talk to me."

"There's really not much to talk about," I told him over my shoulder as I headed into the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink? How are Matt and Jeff? How was your Christmas? What did you do for New Years -"

"Let's cut the crap Gabrielle! We both know that I'm not here to exchange social niceties with you - I'm here to find out what's wrong!"

Walking over to stand by my front window with my back to him, I shrugged my shoulders. "Nothings wrong, Chris - I've just been busy lately and…"

"How's Scott?"

"I have no idea."

"That's what I thought. When did you hear from him last? What happened between you two?"

Crossing my arms defensively across my chest while turning around to face him, I replied, "Nothing happened. He's my friend just the same as he's yours."

Rising up from the couch to walk over and stand in front of me, Chris grasped me gently by the shoulders. "Come on Gab, it's me - it's Chris you're talking to, okay? I can tell that you're hurting right now and you need to talk to someone about what's going on with you."

Turning away from him, I rose a trembling hand to my forehead. "Chris, Scott spent some time with me a few months back, that's all. You should remember, because you called us one morning and…"

"And it sounded like I might have interrupted something," he said softly to me.

Suddenly closing my eyes in pain as a vivid image of Scott flashed in my mind, several tears quickly rolled down my cheeks and I brushed them away with the backs of my hands.

"It's okay Gab," Chris whispered to me, gently gripping my shoulders once more. "Let it out - I'm here for you. Don't shut me out, please babe. Come here."

Turning around to face him, his image became blurred in front of me as I felt a rush of tears flood my eyes. "I miss him so much Chris and I know that nothing will come of this…" I told him, my voice cracking as I felt his arms wrap around me. Stiffening at first in his embrace, I gradually relaxed against him and let out all my pent up emotions, sobbing like a child. Chris rocked me gently, soothing me wordlessly while giving me time to grieve. Clutching his shirtfront, I soon soaked his shirt through with my tears and eventually quieted down, letting out the occasional hiccup.

"I'm so tired of living alone," I whispered to him. "I just want what everyone else has - is that too much to ask for? Why doesn't it ever work out for me?"

"I don't know, and I'm sorry that I don't have an answer for you," Chris murmured to me, pulling back slightly and kissing me tenderly on the forehead. Wiping the last of my tears away from my cheeks, he walked over to the couch and returned with a few tissues. "Blow," he instructed, and I did as he told me to.

"Go and take a nice hot shower and I'll make you something to eat," he told me. "When's the last time you ate a decent meal? I'm sorry, but you look terrible," he continued, shaking his head at me before heading into the kitchen.

Walking into the bathroom I took a nice long hot shower, wrapping myself up in my favorite terry cloth bathrobe when I was finished. Wandering back out into the living room, I glanced over and saw that he was washing dishes in the kitchen.

"Here you go - come here and eat," he said, sitting me down at the table and plopping a sandwich and a bowl of soup in front of me. "It's not much - when's the last time you went to the store? Never mind - I'll take you tomorrow."

Quietly eating my dinner, I watched as he continued to bustle about the apartment, a small smile crossing my face despite my mood as I saw him picking up around the place. "I never knew you to be so domesticated Jerky," I said, smiling at him. Finishing my meal, I washed the remainder of the dishes and then walked back into the living room.

"Come with me," Chris told me, beckoning me towards the bathroom. Seating me on the counter, he took my hair dryer out of the drawer and began to dry my hair. Closing my eyes in pleasure, I savored the feeling of being cared for. After my hair was dry he combed it out gently while updating me on the recent happenings in his life.

"When's the last decent sleep you had?" he asked me. Shrugging my shoulders, I told him quietly that I didn’t know. Tilting my head up he frowned down at me as he looked at the dark circles beneath my eyes. "Well that stops tonight," he told me firmly. "I want you to go to sleep right now."

Walking me over to my bed, he tucked me in under the covers and plopped down next to me, turning on the television to flip through the channels. Lowering the volume, he pulled me over to lay my head down upon his chest.

Feeling drowsy from the hot shower that I had just taken and the soup warming my stomach, my eyelids slowly drifted downwards and I relaxed, feeling Chris gently playing with my hair.

"Sleep now Gab," he murmured to me softly.

Yawning, I snuggled closer to his warmth and felt him slip his arm around my waist. Closing my eyes, I slept.

The End

SEQUEL TO THIS STORY IS "MAKING LOVE"