WhiteOut - A Christmas Story- part ONE

WHITEOUT

part one

(chapters One to Seven) 

Author's Note: This story takes place in Ireland, December 2006. I am taking liberties with the timeline and events...as we know Michael left shortly before Lisa arrived in Ireland. Let's visit a parallel universe...Enjoy! Thanks as always for reading and for letting me know what you think! 

Part two (from chapter eight on)- to be found at:
http://emb4mj.blogspot.com/2013/01/whiteout-part-two-updated-1113.html

Somewhere in Ireland. December 24, 2006

1

Dammit!

The fucking car hydroplaned for the tenth time. In two minutes. Well, maybe hydroplaning was the wrong term to use, given I was slipping around like a drunk turtle someone had thrown onto the ice. Or snow. Or combination of both.

Well, Lisa, snow is frozen water…

Fuck off inner voice sounding like the sanctimonious son of a bitch who really was responsible for my being out in this mess.

“Fuck!” Breathing hard, I actually managed to stop spinning. And I stayed on what used to be the road.  Take that!

Okay, Lisa.  Slow…put the car in low gear…ease into it… There you go. Some fishtailing, but I was off again.

What I wouldn’t give for a cigarette. But I had run out hours ago.

The headlights cut a fuzzy, too short path into the white static. The sound of the wipers the metronome to my erratic pulse.

Okay…cool. Slow down heart beat… I’m moving again. It’s all good.

And if I didn’t look down I might not see the snow turtles passing me. What was with me and turtles today? Well, all that panicky breathing steamed up the windows anyway, no matter how much I wiped. So, my pride could stay intact. As long as I stayed alive.

“Lisa Marie…Please stop cursing and concentrate on driving. You will be the death of me! And poor Michael. He’s pale as a sheet. He just came back in- looks like it’s snowing too hard for him to drive out to meet you.”

Oh shit! I almost had forgotten I was clutching my phone. I was the death of her?  Did my sweet mother forget it was me who was out trudging through a blizzard while she was sitting with a hot toddy at a comfy fire?

Stop being a hateful bitch, Lisa. Not her fault you’re trapped at the Irish North Pole.  My luck, Santa was just about to land on the car, too.

The thought brought to mind that it was Christmas Eve and that I had no fucking business being out here, risking my life while my family was sweating bullets. And on my first Christmas as a wife again. Gosh, Mom said he was about to rush out to get me. Why did all my actions always include collateral damages?

Poor Lucky- no, he needed to stay in. Riley and Ben would know something was up for sure if he rushed after me.

Guilt blurred my vision and I swatted the stupid tear away.

I’m so sorry for doing it again! I’ll give up, I swear! For real, this time. All I want is to make it back to my babies so I can hug them for Christmas.

I’d be extra grateful and even hug mother. And Lockwood- Lucky.  He had just recently earned his new nick name, bestowed on him by our friend calling him a Yankee Leprechaun.  Which had been funny as all getout.  - Dammit! Hopefully, he hadn’t figured it all out and would not exile me to my own private igloo. I really didn’t know why the fuck he put up with me. Shit, I don’t know how I put up with myself at times!

“Maybe I could concentrate on driving if you weren’t fucking yelling at me. And tell Lucky to stay put. I’ll be there in no time flat.” There, maybe she would buy that I’m all tough and shit- and not panicked at all.

“Well, excuse me, for worrying that my daughter is out in a snow storm all by herself. I still don’t know…wha…and why you thought…..” Static took over my mother’s lovely chiding.  Maybe this storm was a heaven sent after all.

The flakes were huge and wet now, and the wipers did not seem to be able to keep up. Great- it was getting dark- further increasing the stifling feeling of panic and claustrophobia.  Just me by my lonesome self. In my own unintended snow mobile.  I had chosen a little compact, refused a truck.  I really didn't think I'd need four wheel drive...or snow chains.  But surely, these things were made for driving in this weather.  At least I hoped so.  Cause it had been a while since I had to navigate a sled.  Like never.  Speaking of… How long had it been since I saw another car? Or anything other than white kamikaze flakes hurling themselves at me?

Was I the only idiot out in this? Really? This was so screwed up! I wanted to scream!

But who the fuck was I gonna screech at? My own stupid fault for bashing my head against the same wall.  The blood dripping into my eyes blinding me as always, making me mistake the relief from my nerves going numb with a lasting pain remedy.

“Mother, I’m losing you…”

No, really, I was losing myself. Had lost myself. Again. And just when it had started to look like the prodigal daughter had finally joined sanity-ville. But leave it to me: not like I ever thought being close to normal was a good neighborhood to be in. No, my sandcastles had to be built on the stable material running through an hour glass. And mine had just been turned, I guess.  So, what I had mistaken for stability had been revealed as a timed descent into more lunacy Lisa style.

“Lisa…..Michael…..and….forecast….won’t….snowed in…..” Mercifully, all further crackling and noise was cut short by deadly silence. 

“Mother….Mom….Mommy…”  My sob brought to mind that I had just reverted to the scared little girl that usually successfully hid out inside my deranged mind.

I threw the useless phone onto the passenger seat.

Get it together, Lisa! Shit! If I had to pick a person to be stranded with, I sure as shit wouldn’t select me.

Was I still moving?  And why the fuck was it so difficult to see again? 

Okay- maybe if I stopped and cleaned the windshield off once more time, it would go a bit better.  That damn defroster was definitely not working on this little loaner. 

I pulled over to what I guessed might be the edge of the road, grabbed my last tissue, and defogged that damn windshield.  While I was at it, I realized snow had compacted below the wipers, and if I had any hope of making it back to civilization safely, I had to get out and remove some of it. 

Man, I sure was glad I taken the little broom and ice scraper with me. How silly the dude’s suggestion at the rental place had seemed when he suggested it.

“You better take those, Miss. I know it’s just a baby flakes right now, but the weather is known to turn. And all the wee ones have been praying for snow, y’a can be sure.”

So, I had taken the silly things- more as a favor to him. Bless him!

And damn, if he hadn’t been right!

I pulled my jacket close and carefully opened the door.  They icy air made me hold my breath.  The wind driven flakes stung my cheeks, slapping me awake in some odd, exhilarating way.  Shit- look at that!

Damn scary. And damn beautiful at the same time. Blackout.  In pure white.  The wind drew patterns into the road, combatting any stubborn spots of uncovered road trying to disrupt the frozen blanket.

“It just ain’t Christmas if there’s no snow.”

“How would you know, California Raisin?”

“I’m a citizen of the world.”

“Who hates to be cold.”

“Which is why I watch the snow on TV, silly!”

Funny, how the memory lurched into me with such force, I could almost taste the popcorn he had thrown at me. Christmas Eve. On the couch with him, watching It’s A Wonderful Life.  In our own mystical snow globe. Before it slipped from our hands and broke, revealing the magical wonderland was nothing but water, styrofoam, and gaudily painted dreams.

A wind gust almost knocked me on my ass.  Well, maybe I’d be lucky and hit my head hard enough to finally beat some sense into me.

Okay, get your ass in motion and clean off the snow before you gotta dig your car out from a mountain of the stuff.

Thankfully, logical me was still alive and well somewhere there inside the pool of lunacy populated by the sharks of brain dead ideas.  I really don’t know how that chick stayed afloat.

The stupid snow under the wipers had hardened and was compacted.  My fingers started to be paralyzed by the cold as I chiseled away on the motherfuckers.

“Dammit! Break already! Break!”

Hitting it hard, it occurred to me that I better ease up or I’d break the glass.

Lisa, it’s almost impossible to break the car glass. The force you would need would be equivalent to…

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!  Get the hell out of my head, you stupid, idiotic, retarded…. AHHHH! See what you made me do? See what happened?  What you did? Why can’t you just leave me be?  Leave…. ME…. ALONE….”

The last three words of my useless tirade were delivered to the rhythmic thrusts of the ice scraper. And voila! Finally I was able to remove the snow shield!

Success!

Who said anger was all bad?

Exhausted I sank against the car, realizing I was getting covered in snow myself. Okay…good. Free.  Maybe this was a sign.  I could move on. 

Slightly embarrassed, I turned around, making sure no Yeti’s had observed my embarrassing outburst.  If they were around, they were pretty good at hiding in plain sight. Or whatever was left of plain sight.

Dusk was turning to dark with rapid speed. Fuck! When had it gotten that late?

You know…when you decided to chase after him just one more time.

For old times’ sake.

Slapping the snow off my idiotic self, I scrambled back into the car.  Slamming the door shut, I was immediately swallowed by sudden silence. Man, those European cars sure were insulated well!

I picked up the phone.  Please, please, let me just make one little call.  I just want them to know I’m okay. 

Nope.  Not even static this time.  I looked down and noticed the battery was dead. Fuck!

Great. Guess my little prayer was useless. Guess the universe did not endorse the health of cell phones in storms.  And leaving without my charger possibly had not been my brightest plan today. But also not my dumbest.

That cake was taken by the brilliant idea to beat him to his the plane.  Which, in turn was only second to the previous strategy to delay his departure in the first place. But no, of course, he had seen through that one.

Michael was, as always, one step ahead of me.

“I’m so fucked up.  But I promise…PROMISE, that if I make it back okay, I will not ever, ever do it again.”

Do what, exactly?  What had I done that was so horrible? Punishable to be exiled in snow hell?  All I had wanted to do was clear the air.  That’s it. So we could both move on. Once and for all.

And being married was not a good enough plot to move on?

No, of course, I had moved on…but….fuck…. Maybe I needed to stop having conversations with myself and get my butt in motion to get back to my husband who deserved a hell of a lot better than having his about to be ice- cycled wife chase after a man who wasn’t interested in resolving anything.

Because, really, deep down, you know, it has all been resolved for him. Which is why he did everything but launch into space to get his ass out of Ireland before you could accidentally run into him.

Accidentally.  Well…about that…

How stupid it all had seemed now.  So utterly ridiculous!  The messages- the millions of calls to friends who might be able to help.  The justifications to both myself and Lucky. My level of denial.  Lucky's level of taciturn disapproval while granting me the freedom to make idiotic choices. Making me feel like a dick.

No, if I happen to see him, all I want to do is say hi. Be friendly. That’s all.

Accidental, my ass.  

And as I knew very well, most avalanches I was buried under were triggered by my own screams.

Screams delivered with dead calm. 

The ones telling him in the voice used with children and asylum inmates that he needed to go live...without me. That he needed to move on. That I didn’t love him. That I was indifferent.

Indifferent enough to call him from Japan.  And our pre-wedding conversations always slid into the mud at record speed. God knows we had practice at that sport. Who but us can say that?

“You think this one will last?”

“Go to hell, Michael!”

“It’s quite charming how you feel the need to call me before each of your weddings.  Is that a tradition like tossing the bouquet?”

“At least I called you before, not during. Like someone I know.  Anyway. I don’t know why the fuck I bother.”

“You know why? Because you’re full of shit. But you gotta figure it out by yourself this time.”

“Which is great- cause I need you about as much as sunny day needs a cloud.”

“You mean so you don’t get sunburned?”

“Have a nice life. I just wanted to let you know what’s going down so you don’t hear it second hand.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Lisa Marie. Thank you.”

“Your sarcasms is misplaced. But whatever.”

“No, really. I’m happy for you. Hopefully you can be happy for yourself and actually live in the marriage you chose for once.”

Why, oh, why could I not remember where I placed my keys on any given day, but each word, each feeling, each tear were edged into my DNA?

Focus! Key….there you go. Turn the key, Lisa. Get out…outrun your memories. At 15 kmh…whatever that meant.

Okay…I blew on my fingers to at least get them warm enough to turn the ignition key.  One turn…nothing.

Oh, no. Not that now. Come on!  Panic brought me back to reality really fast.

Biting my lip, barely feeling my teeth sinking into the frozen surface, I took a deep breath and tried again.

This time, I was rewarded with a little cranking sound.

Okay…getting somewhere.

“God, I know I am an infrequent flyer, but please, if you could help me out a bit here. Not for me…but Daddy had a good line to you- and I really don’t want my kids to worry…Please…”

The cranking turned to a little churn and finally, the engine seemed to be motivated to start. YES!

Thank you!

I mouthed the words and watched my breath turn to little spirals in the air. Well, with the motor running, the heater should kick in any time now.

With the most careful of motions, I pulled off, and managed to track along.  The wipers kept up pretty good this time, and the inside was once again warm enough to give me hope my blood might not freeze just yet.  By some miracle, the snow seemed to easy up and I no longer felt the wind shaking the car.  The wipers sang a happier tune now, as they easily cut through the softly dancing flakes.  There! This was not so bad! I was doing just fine! And the blizzard might just break up to allow for Santa to deliver me back to my family after all.

I brushed my hair back and noticed how wet I had gotten. Oh well. The heater would take care of that in no time, and since I was finally making it up above 50 kmh, my chances of sitting by a fire were suddenly pretty excellent. 

Feeling it was safe to do so, I turned the radio on and was actually able to find a station. Christmas Carols, and boy- I was in the spirit suddenly. 

“Dashing through the snow…in a one horse open sleigh…Over the hills we go…laughing all the way…”

 This day sure had taught me a great lesson.  I needed to ease up on the past and move along into the future.  Maybe things between Michael and myself had gotten about as good as they could get. I needed to leave well enough alone.  My life was good as it was.  I was finally in a stable relationship.  I was…content.  I’d be forty soon.  Content was great.  Easy sailing traded for hurricane runs on the pirate ship. As thrilling as the highs had been, the lows had caused me to almost choke on my vomit.

The gross thought made me laugh. At least I could still be a nut.

So, yeah. I was set. And settled.

Damn- I might also be slightly lost.  When was the last time I had seen a sign for that turn I knew had to be coming up? 

The map was somewhere next to me- and I glanced over.

The angelic voice from the radio almost caused me to jump out of my skin. Dammit! Was there no getting away from the motherfucker?

“Someday all our dreams will come to be

Someday in a world where men are free

Maybe not in time for you and me

But someday at Christmastime

Someday at Christmastime”

“Maybe not in time for you and me…”  Yeah, no joke…

In some paralyzed state, I realized that all I had to do to shut him up was to turn the stupid radio off.  Not meaning to, I hit the damn radio knob so hard, it flew across the car, bounced off the seat and onto the floor Fuckit! That would be a nice charge for returning the car in less than pristine condition.

Michael’s fault, again!

Reaching down, I tried to angle for the little thing, when a movement from somewhere in my peripheral vision grabbed my attention.  The deer looked as surprised as I was and seemed to hesitate for a second, before deciding to race the car.  The icy road provided an unfriendly environment for both the scared animal and the tires locked by my frantic attempt to engage the brakes. 

Obviously much better adapted to these conditions than I was, Bambi scampered away unharmed, while I was taken on a crazy, spinning ride in the car that suddenly had transformed into a carousel.  Trying to recall if I should ease up on the breaks and steer in the direction of the turn or the other way, time took a break as everything turned to slow motion.

With a loud thump, my world stopped spinning. Before I had a chance to fully realize my head had made contact with the steering wheel, my world constricted and darkened, and my last thought was that now I probably would not make it back to the kids, or Michael, in time.

2

“So the kids are okay?”

“Of course they are okay, Michael. I’m glad they got out of there on time. Sounds like the weather is no joke. Are you sure you should be driving?”

“It’s just snow, Mother. I’m fine. And since it seems it actually eased up a bit, I should make it back to the house in no time.”

Looking down at the clock, the speedometer, and then outside at the surrounding darkness, he knew his chances were iffy at best, but he had  chosen to leave the airfield after the helicopter had not been able to take off due to the storm.  The pilot had offered to try again in a couple of hours, but Michael had felt horrible subjecting the man to waiting around on Christmas eve, possibly risking his life, only to cater to his comfort. The driver had also left and he’d be damned if he called him back. No, he in this new life, he had become pretty used to being self-sufficient.

“Well, I guess it all worked out, then. The kids are having a grand time here with your brother and enjoy catching up with their cousins. I really wish you wouldn’t isolate them from the family like that, son.”

Michael rolled his eyes. It was called careful parenting and removing children from known dangers. Like his family.  Mother, of course, being the sole exception. But since his siblings loved to use her as a weapon to penetrate his armor, necessity dictated that kept his distance. And it seemed that everything had conspired to prolong his absence.  Originally, he had planned to spend Christmas here in Ireland and then drop by Las Vegas, possibly looking into renting a house there for a while.

Then he heard the news.

“Lisa Marie Presley and her family have landed on the Green Isle, obviously enjoying a trip to Ireland where her ex-husband also has found exile.  Will Elvis’ little girl include Jacko in her Christmas party?”

Fighting a semi-catatonic state, hypnotized by images of Lisa and the Jolly Pale Giant she was married to garbed in ridiculous green pants and a top hat, he finally was able to switch channels.  Paris looked up.

“Elvis Presley has a little girl?”

Shit! And here he thought his daughter had been busy with her coloring book. Instead, her blue, bright eyes bore into him. He knew that look: Paris had honed in on a target.

“He had a daughter, yes.”

His breathing hiked.  His vision drowned in images of the sweet little blond girl.  Those eyes.  The same eyes he encountered so many years later. Laughing, tempting, calling him…

“What do you know of Elvis Presley?” Prince now also looked up from his Gameboy.

“Remember? We watched that movie –the one in Hawaii, and then the other one, in Las Vegas. Hey, Daddy- we are going to Las Vegas soon, right?”

“Right- how about right now we get out and go for a walk, guys.”

“Can we go riding instead?”

Anything to get them off the topic of Lisa.  He was still trying to process the news that she was here. In this country. What were the chances? What did she want? 

Maybe it was a coincidence.

Yes, ‘cause Ireland was a prime destination for Christmas vacations. For newly weds. Well, seven months into a marriage didn’t really qualify for the honeymoon suite anymore. Seven months…was it possible?  Was Lisa really happily married?  And why the sudden nausea?  No, she was here, so she wanted something.

Well, whatever she wanted here, she was certainly done wanting him. Was there a particular logical explanation why they thought hurt like hell? 

Surely she was done chasing him around.  She said she had moved on finally. But who knew with Lisa.  Maybe she came to prove she could have him again. Then drop him when convenient.  Well, good luck with that. 

“Sure…let’s get the horses ready. I’ll take Blanket.”

“Oh, Daddy- there was also this cowboy movie with Elvis Presley in it. I bet he took his daughter riding. So, do you know his little girl?”

Did he?  Oh, hell yeah…intimately.  No…not those thoughts again.  All those memories had been safely stashed away.  Only to break free and torture him at night.

“She’s not a little girl. She’s an adult.  Okay, let’s go, guys.”

“Grandma said you met Elvis. Did you Daddy?”

When in the world had his mother discussed that with the children? And what was with the sudden Elvis obsession?

Thankfully, he had been able to distract the kids pretty soon, but his own mind was a different story altogether.  The dreams started again. Nightmares really.  Perfect mirror images of his memories.  The good, the bad, the ugly. But nothing as harmful and deadly as the perfection of the flawless bliss of holding her, kissing her…hearing her whisper his name.  Only to wake up to cold sweat and messy sheets.  Alone.  A gaping hole where his heart had once been.

And so, he called on his old enemy. Insomnia was preferable to visions of the lie he once had lived.

After all, what else could it be if it was so easy for her to turn off her feelings and declare herself indifferent?

Yes, sure, of course, he had seen through her defenses pretty soon. Still, he was tired of being forgiving. Tired of pretending he gave a damn about her motives.  She was no different from all the other rats scurrying off the sinking ship.  And while most of his wounds started to scar over, there were permanent reminders leaving him forever changed. Sadly, the ones still breaking open and oozing festering poison into his bloodstream were all related to her.

“Michael, I found out you are also here, and you’re not that far away. I was wondering if it would be possible to talk. I …I would like to…you know…catch up…”

What the fuck did she want to catch up on? Hadn’t she thrown at him that they would never be able to be friends? Now she suddenly changed her mind? Oh hell no! He was not about to help her dump whatever new revelations she had collected on his new found serenity.  He was so done being the dumping ground for her atomic waste.  Have her gift the male version of Diane Keaton with her wisdom.  It wasn’t even so much that he was angry anymore. He was numb.  Calm.  Content.

When some convoluted business deal kept him here longer than expected and he sent the kids ahead to Las Vegas, he had not initially suspected anything off. A charitable organization with branches here had been interested in enlisting his help to combat youth crime and enlistment of young people into terrorist activity here in Ireland.  A worthy cause, and he was curious to see how he could contribute. Then, one of his connections had let it slip that the charitable organization he was working with had a very interesting person on their board.  And that person turned to be out none other than his scheming little ex.  It was difficult to not get paranoid and think that Lisa had tried to stall him for some reason. Sure, maybe he was wrong, but he was not ready to take any chances. The mere thought of running into her, of seeing her face, of smelling her perfume, drove him to the brink of a panic attack. 

No, she had moved on- and she needed to keep on doing that.  Preferably, in a direction away from him. Far, far away.  There was a time when he needed her.  He had reached out, and she had cut off his frantically grasping hand with the blade of her words. For once he had done what she always accused him of being incapable of: he'd laid it all at her feet.  His fear, his desperation, his plea. The void inside had scared him to death.  All his dream, all his love for others, his ability to trust and feel had been exposed and slaughtered for the pleasure of the screaming, bloodthirsty audience of the circus. Theoretically, he had emerged victorious.  Had slain the lions. Thumbs up- you have been granted life.

Difficult to be grateful when the very ability to experience gratitude had been euthanized. The only thing hanging on: fear. Fear of dying. Fear of living. Fear of being dead on the inside. Fear of having to live a human life feeling totally devoid of human emotion.

Except, he knew he loved his children. And he loved Lisa. Despite her idiotic media circus portraying him as her greatest regret, despite her angry songs, her tirades, her "I don't give a shit attitude." He knew she did. He knew she hovered. Stayed informed. At first he thought it was cute, then it became meaningless when the focus shifted to simply making it out of bed to get dressed and listen to yet another endless day of attacks. The mask became fused to his soul. But still...he had always known she cared.

And he had believed with the last glimmer of hope she would understand. Hadn't it always been Lisa caving in, coming running back? And he'd relented time after time. Probably knowing just how badly he had fucked up with the whole Debbie thing. Lisa, always open to another start.  When he gave her an opening, she had always taken it. Until that last time. He had flown into the darkness, expecting salvation and paradise at the other side of the fog. What he had found was a huge rock he'd crashed into head first.  So, he did what he knew he had to do. And Lisa obviously followed her dreams. Which included some odd Kabuki marriage to that clown who was her guitarist.

Typical Lisa to never be happy with her choices.  She might be able to be friends with her exes, but he believed in clear boundaries.  If she had not been able to be there with him, she was now on the out.  For good. Where she should have been all along. Putting up with her shit for way too long had been a huge mistake.  Better to cut off your limb in one clear strike, then to watch it being shredded to pieces in some bear trap.

“Mother…I think I’m about to run out of battery and my reception is really bad. Thanks for watching after the kids. I hope to fly out to Dublin and catch a flight from there tomorrow.  I will let you know. Please make sure Paris doesn’t overdo the sweets. And they can stay up a bit longer tonight. Did the tree and everything get delivered?”

“Yes, Michael. You know how I feel about this. But I will do my best.”

Mother’s oh so subtle little digs still got to him. But he knew he could trust her and she’d make sure the kids had a great Christmas.  Thanks, Lisa, for making me be trapped here without my children.

Concentrating on making it through the heavy snow, he realized the wind finally seemed to ease up and the dance of the snowflakes took on a gentle, almost calming pace. The headlights illuminated the tiny crystals, and for the first time tonight, he felt the peace and joy of Christmas Eve penetrate through the anxieties of the day.

Michael noticed he was about to lose the classical station he had been listening to, and he pushed the scan button.  Smiling, he settled back when he found a station playing Christmas songs. The tunes of Jingle Bells reminded him of recording the Christmas album against mother’s stern protests, while wishing he could join in the fun of the season with the other kids.   It had been a strange thrill to break the rules and sing the songs- but it also had brought feelings of betrayal and guilt. 

As if to make a point, the next song was his own voice, singing Stevie’s Someday At Christmas. 

Gosh…those lyrics really always got to him- especially now.  How silly and innocent his quest for peace and happiness to the world seemed now. When all humankind seemed intent on was hurting each other and finding ways to fuck their brothers over.  If they encountered someone who longed for joy and beauty in the world they did their best to drag him down, bind his soul, and blind him with the hatred reflected at him through sparkling mirrors.  How do you keep hope of freedom alive, when even the most innocent of spirits could be corrupted and bought for the right amount of coins? God gave mankid his son- for what?  The sacrifice seemed pretty meaningless.  Love was nothing more than a word in stupid novels.  Peace was an illusion. 

And yet, when he was with his children, or all children, looking into their eyes, he felt that spark, could feel warm and loved.  That’s all that mattered now.  That’s all he needed.  Which was why not being with them tonight hurt like hell. And all because Lisa once again wanted to entertain herself with games.  Well, he better be damn happy he had seen through her ploys, as he didn’t feel very charitable toward her right now.  Actually seeing her would not have helped matters. Not at all. Thought it might have facilitated strangling her. Yeah, so much for peace to all mankind.

Something at the side of the road suddenly penetrated his dark thoughts.  Something was really out of place.  He slowed down. What was that? Did someone leave a car by the side of the road? Judging from the amount of snow on it, it could not have been there too long.  Maybe the owner had gotten stranded and had been picked up by another car. 

Should he stop and check it out? 

Well, yeah, someone could be inside and maybe needed help.

And then what?  He had a little bit of juice left in the battery, but who could he call? Did they have 911 here?  Surely there was an emergency number, but he was damned if he knew it.   And really, how was the car his problem?  Not like he could just stroll up to it and be like, hey, yeah, I know you probably didn’t expect Michael Jackson to show up, but can I give you a ride?  He’d probably end up being sued for something or the other.

His glance fell down onto his gas gage. Darn.  He hadn’t noticed how low he was.

Driving very slow now, he inched by the car.  He didn’t think there was anyone inside, but it was damn hard to make out the interior. It was probably just an abandoned car.

Drive on, dude! You’re in no position to help anyone, and it’s just an empty car. 

Having driven past, a thought suddenly occurred to him. Were those windows fogged over? And if they were, didn’t that mean someone had to be inside?

Man, it’s dark. It’s cold. You are tired. How in the world do you think you saw anything inside that car?

But could he really go on and not check it out. Just to make sure.  Just to be certain he didn’t abandon anyone to certain death.

Shit!

He backed up and pulled off the road, stopping, where the cone of his headlights illuminated the little compact. Why would anyone drive a tiny car like that in the middle of a storm anyway? Had to be some idiot! And everyone made fun of his driving all the time.

Reaching for the door handle, he stopped and decided to look for a flashlight. Those could be used as weapons. Or at least that’s what he had seen in movies.

For once, luck was on his side and he found a flashlight and batteries in the glove compartment.  Alright!

Michael pulled on his parka and made sure to wear his fedora. Maybe he’d be lucky and the car would either be empty as expected whoever he happened to save would not recognize him. Too bad it was too dark for shades.

Yeah, because a fedora and shades would not scream his identity to anyone.

Trying hard not to bust his ass, he made it down the small slope to the car.  He now noticed that it seemed the car had run off the road and hit a small tree.  He touched the hood which was still warm

Dammit!

“Hello…anyone in there?”  He approached and shone the flashlight into the side window.  Sure enough- he thought he saw someone moving. Jesus Christ! Someone was in there! And he had almost driven by.

Feeling panicked now, Michael reached for the handle and pulled hard.  The door seemed stuck at first, but finally, pulling hard for the third time, he managed to pry it open.

“Thank God- I couldn’t get it open. I hit my head and…”

That voice…was he hallucinating? No, it had to be some Irish chick who ran her car off the road… Some Irish chick sounding like…

He picked up the flashlight he had dropped during the struggle with the door and shone it at the woman.

Fucking hell!

There was a good reason the Irish chick with Lisa’s voice had no Irish accent.

Because, the eyes blinking up at him from a very pale face matched the voice.

He had rescued none other than the person he had tried to get away from during the last couple of days.

Lisa.

Lisa, with blood trickling from her forehead.

3

“Fuck- can you get that light out of my face, dude?”

My initial thrill at having actually been discovered by another human being turned to small annoyance when my hero now attempted to blind me.

“What? Oh, sorry…Shit, you’re bleeding…What the fuck? Are you okay? What the hell happened? What…How did you get here. My God…”

Man, I must have hit my head harder than I thought.  Or maybe I was still passed out. Because the voice coming through from behind the lance of light belonged to none other than my charming ex-husband. Number two.  Which was impossible. But what the hell would he do here? He had flown the coup.  Or so I had been informed. Plus, Michael doesn’t drive himself…and Michael doesn’t curse.  Well, okay, the last one was not true all the time…but shit.  We were neither fucking nor fighting, so cursing was unlikely.

“I ran off the road after I tried to not hit a deer.  Never know on Christmas.  Man- please lower that light, my head…”

“Shit- let me look at that….can you scoot over?” The apparition ignored my request.

As my eyes adjusted, I knew I was dreaming. Or dying. This had to be a pre-death hallucination.

“Man- if you got a phone you might wanna call an ambulance…cause I keep thinking you are my ex. So I know something’s seriously wrong. ”

“Yeah. Me being here is indeed wrong. And your head’s been impaired long before now. But let me see what damage you done this time.  Scoot. If you can. Please.”

Michael? No.  It was absolutely impossible.  He could not be here. But who else could make pushy demands while staying perfectly polite?

The man with Michael’s hat, Michael’s voice, and Michael’s shape tried to climb into the car, and I actually managed to follow his instruction and moved into the other seat.  The effort caused me to see everything with an odd echo and my stomach flipped.

I sank back and closed my eyes against the thundering of cresting waves in my head.  This could simply not be! What were the chances? No, I was just imagining things. Any minute now I’d wake up. This could not be him… In the middle of Fucking Nowhere, Ireland. Or Fucking O’Nowhere.

Cool fingers touched my forehead with a most familiar touch. The one I felt in my dream.  My eyes flew open and I grabbed his wrist.

Fuck! It was still Michael! Sitting here with me- in a stranded car. In Ireland. On Christmas Eve.  What the fuck had I been smoking?

“Lisa, please let me look at your stupid head.  You’re bleeding.” Great- the sanctimonious voice was now outside my head.

“And you’re gonna do what? Heal me?”

“Pain in the ass!  How does your head feel? The cut doesn’t look too bad. I guess.  And the bleeding seems to have stopped. Were you passed out?”

What the fuck was going on here?  Florence Nightingale turned Moonwalker looked annoyingly concerned. Well, he didn’t have to worry about me. I was peachy. Freezing and dizzy, but otherwise…perfect.

“I’m fine. I think I was out for like a second. Don’t these cars have airbags?”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He held up two gorgeous long fingers, and a thumb.  No way I was falling for that one again.

“Two and a thumb. My smart husband taught me that.”

“Which one? - I think you’ll live. Given you’re already a huge b… bad patient.”

“Michael…what in the world are you doing here?”  The enormity of the miracle hit me and almost made me cry. Oh Jeeze- I must be in some sort of shock.  I started shivering.

“Me? I was minding my own business trying to make it back to my friend’s house, when I see your ridiculous little car decorating this tree.  I almost missed it, it’s so frigging tiny. Why are you out in this storm anyway? Are you nuts?”

Well, I couldn’t very well fess up and tell him I was trying to chase his ass down.  Had tried to make it to the airfield to …well…whatever I had planned on doing. Talk..that’s right. I wanted to talk to Michael. The very Michael who was now sitting next to me, still messing with my head. This time, literally.

“I was… trying to get back to my family.”

He looked at me with those piercing eyes and shook his head. Gosh he looked…so damn good.

Focus Lisa.

“You got a first aid kit in here? I mean, is there room for one?”

“Stop dissing my car. It was doing just fine till Bambi ambushed me. I should have hit the motherfucker.”

“I see your personality is no worse for the wear. First aid kit?”

God.  I had forgotten how I adored that raised eye-brow.

Funny, cause you used to say it drove you crazy…That he was mocking you…

Which was true.  Yeah, Lisa Marie, stay focused. He’s doing the same patronizing bullshit he always has pulled. Just because he just happened to show up by some bizarre miracle…

No, it was not a miracle. It was a random strike of… What? Revenge of the universe for trying to trap the golden boy? Or was this a test to figure out how happy and content I really was? Well, right now, I was neither happy nor content. I was starting to shiver from being fucking cold. And my head hurt.

“I have no damn clue if there is a first aid kit, Michael. I did not plan on being run off the road.”

“I bet you didn’t turn the wheel the right way. You never did get that down when we raced four wheelers.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I don’t have your experience racing down mountain roads and spinning my car like a manic on said lonely mountain roads.”

“Yeah, well, if you had, you wouldn’t need my help now.”

“And I would deprive you of the opportunity to feel superior. See it as my Christmas present to you.”

“You deprived me of more than that…” Mumbling, he leaned over to get to the glove compartment. Damn! Did he have to be so close?  And why did he still smell the way I remember so well. And why did I care?  It must be my head injury.  My internal thermostat must be dinged as suddenly I was very hot.

“Did you say something?”

“No…not at all. Great- no first aid kit. I’m sure I have one in the car. As I always travel prepared Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s the law.”

Of course it was. And of course he had a fucking first aid kit. He probably had a surgery kit as well… Mister Perfection always was great at pointing out me inadequacies. Rolling my eyes aggravated my headache and I sank back once more, closing my eyes, taking deep breaths while he scampered off, assuring me he’d be right back.

My eyes flew open and I turned, watching him disappear into the light beam. Knowing him, he’d drive off and leave me to my misery. Well, no, being hurt might just keep him close. It was the only thing that worked before.  He had no problem coming running back once I almost died. After he ripped my heart out…replaced me…

Gosh, unreal how ugly my thoughts could turn within ten minutes of being in his presence.  It’s what we did to each other. Trapped in those churning dynamics. No wonder we never could break free and make things work. The ties keeping us shackled to perpetual patterns drove that high-flying plane into the ground nose first every single time. At least this encounter started with a crash? What the fuck could go wrong?

“There. I found one. Now let me look at your head, then we gotta get you out of here. You’re shivering and I don’t want you to go into shock.”

“Okay- what did you do? Get your medical degree watching ER?  Or did you learn all this from being Mister Debbie?”

“You better watch out, Lisa. Santa won’t get you nothing but coals, the way you’re carrying on.”

“He brought me you, didn’t he?”

Michael stopped and gazed at me as if he was startled by my words.  Oh God, how did I ever forget how powerful his eyes could be.  We stared at each other and something inside me stirred. Must be nausea from all the trauma.  For sure.  And my heart was beating against my chest like a bird for the same reason.

Michael blinked first, and I was finally able to unhook from those deadly dark pools. Damn!

He leaned it, cleaning my cut with a cotton ball that burned the shit out of me. Probably his revenge for rendering him speechless.

“Fuck!”

“Well, that might stop you from shivering.”

That little sardonic smile.   Crap…How could I possibly be shivering?  My insides were on fire again. 

“Oh, keep dreaming.”  Breathing was impossible. My mouth turned dry.

“Right now I’m trapped in some ridiculous nightmare with some spoiled little woman who can’t simply shut up and be grateful I found her and saved her from freezing to death.”

Not knowing what to reply to that, I decided to save my breath.  Michael was too incredibly close  close now, putting the bandaid on my forehead with expertise. Maybe I banged up my chest as well.  Yeah, that would explain the tight chest.

“There. Good as new.”  Inspecting his work, he suddenly leaned forward and kissed my head.

Our eyes locked – both of us obviously very surprised. The small touch of his lips burned worse than the antiseptic.  My heart pounded in my chest.

He blushed. “Ah…I’m sorry…habit…you know…the kids…when they get hurt…”

My face was on fire as well. 

Act cool, Lisa. It’s nothing. He just kissed your boo-boo all better. He’s a Dad…it’s nothing else.

“It’s fine…really.”  My mouth was dry.

He nodded and looked down for a second. Oh shit…he was biting his lip. Unfair war fare. And that time, for once, I was sure he had no clue what he was doing to me.

“Anyway… you might have a concussion. Come on. Let’s get to my car. You think you can walk?”

“Walk where?”  He was all matter of act again and it helped me to break out of the spell.

“To my car. We gotta get out. When I went to get the first aid kit, the snow picked up again.”

“Why would I walk with you to your car?”

“So I can abduct you and have my evil way with you.”  The eyebrow again.

I stared at him. Was he for real?

Suddenly, he burst out laughing.

“Damn, Lisa! Shit! Your car seems useless. But hey- fine…” He raised his hands. “If you think you can drive. Try it.”

I had tried. Just before he appeared. The damn engine wouldn’t start. Fuck, he might be right. He might be my only ticket out.

“Your silence speaks volumes. Did you just realize I’m right? That I’m your only chance?”

My turn to bite my lip. Gosh…how often had I thought he was my only chance at love. At happiness?  At life?

“Lisa? Do I need to carry you?”

“No, you’d drop me. I can walk.”

“I carried you plenty of times…but fine….how ‘bout we see if you can stand, first?”

No, I didn’t want to think about him carrying me. Picking me up. My legs closing around him…his body pressing me into a wall…His hands… Damn! What the hell was wrong with me?

He held his hand out to me and I stared at it. God, I used to adore those hands… How often had I grasped them, intertwined my fingers with his, feeling so safe. How often had I felt them on my skin…caressing my cheeks, playing with my hair. Stroking me gently, firing me up, touching me until I begged for more.  I could feel them on my body, feel them inside me…the old fever obviously was back. And it had nothing to do with the accident.

No, shit! This was the past. Nothing but memories.  My system was still out of whack from first hitting my head and then watching him appear like some ghost of Christmas past.

Tentatively, I reached out.  My cold, dead fingers touched his warm hand.  Shit. Electric current.  The blaze was set. All systems came online. The UFO was sensing its Mother Planet. Welcome home. 

Friends, remember?  You are married. He is the past.

Yeah, okay. As long as that was my little mantra I’d be okay.  Sorta.

Getting up proved easier than getting over feeling so secure again, suddenly.  I took a deep breath and straightened up.

“There. Seems your legs work. Any pain anywhere?”

I leaned against the car and checked myself out real quick. Everything seemed to be in working order. 

Shaking my head, I looked up at him. 

“Cool.” That smile.  Oh shit.  Something was broken. That vessel, containing all the emotions I hadn’t known existed anymore, had taken a serious beating. I’d better find some glue- as there was no way those vampires were allowed to see the light of day.  They only existed in the obscurity of my denial, feeding on my rationalizations.

A shudder ran through me, and Michael’s smile faded, his forehead crunched up with sudden worry.

“Lise…you’re freezing. We need to get you a blanket. Do you have one?”

“I …I don’t think so…”

“Girl! What were you drapsing round a strorm for, without anything with you? You still ain’t told me.”

“I got lost, that’s all.”

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s go. I’m pretty sure I have a blanket in there. Also, I got my bag. I was gonna fly out, but the storm stopped me. Anyway- come on.  Let’s get you warm.”

He turned and pulled me along. Taking a step, I sank into the snow bank and stumbled. Still quick as always, Michael turned and caught me before I went snow diving.

Stunned, I landed against him. His arm held me securely and I felt him radiating through me despite his parka.

Why the hell was my heart beating like this?  Breathing had become almost impossible. 

It’s nothing. Nothing at all. He just held me too tightly. That’s it.

Yeah, pure discomfort.

I steadied myself by grasping his upper arms. Too close…we were way too close. I smelled his ever present chewing gum.  Watched in fascination as his breath escaped in white, fragrant puffs.

“You okay?” Gosh, the deep baritone of his voice stirred all the right chords. Or all the wrong chords. His eyes held an expression I could not afford to decipher.

“Yeah…fine…”

As long as I ignore the fire ants racing along the buzzing highway of my nerves.

“Michael, I’m fine. You can let go.” I barely recognized my own voice, as I hoped with some totally misplaced hope he’d hold me tighter.

In this moment, I didn’t really care that the snow came down harder again and that I had a husband waiting for me somewhere in another universe. I was here. Held by Michael. Staring into the eyes keeping me awake so many nights.

Friends, Lisa. Remember?

“Always pushing me away…and then running off the road, hurting yourself.”  His whisper was difficult to make out as the wind picked up again.

“What?”

“Let’s go. It’s getting worse again.”

With that, he picked me up and marched over to the car. The wind was the only reason my protest was cut short by snuggling against him.

4

“Look, I can’t give you details, but I’m fine. And I am using someone else’s phone and it’s about to die.  Plus, seems that technology on coverage is a bit lagging here.”   

The pause at "someone else" was noteworthy.

Michael tried hard not to look over at Lisa, who attempted for the third time to get word to her family that she was alive.  Minus details of his heroic rescue, her idiotic car, or being in the vicinity of Presley enemy number one.  Wouldn't want to give Mommy Dearest a heart attack for Christmas.  Or have dude's sparse hair get even sparser.  Well, mission accomplished, despite the less than reliable cell service out here.  Gosh, she was so spoiled- expecting perfect connections out here in the untouched country, during a storm.  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her looking at him as if she was actually going to give him hell for having an almost empty battery. The gall! It beat her dead one any day.

“Yes, I will call you as soon as I get to a town, village, manger... something.  … I will try…. Yes. I’m sorry. Tell, Mom to chill. What?  It’s breaking up again. Say that again? Lucky? …”

Lucky? Who the heck was that? Surely that wasn’t what she called her husband? That was more of a dog’s name. Or a hamster. Goldfish, maybe.  He needed to suggest that to the kids.

Poor Lisa. She had it tough, though.  Calling her hubby by his own given name might be odd. 

Michael tried hard to not smirk. The irony of the whole same name thing always had both amused and annoyed him. At times it had been almost torturous to imagine Lisa saying his name when the other guy held her.  Did it sound the same?  Did her voice break?  Did her cries sound breathless and hoarse?

Shit, Mike. You better get it together. It’s none of your business what she sounds like when she’s giving it to her legally wed husband.

Hopefully, the car was too dark to give away his blushing.

“Okay, I gotta go. Not much happening with that connection. Yes…” He caught the glance she shot him from below those heavy lids. “You, too.”

Oh, lovely. Whispers of love.  Perfect. At least she had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed.

You better get it together. She is married. Why would she not say she loves him? If she does...

Because Lisa had been married to that other loser as well. And sworn up and down she never loved him. Make that losers, plural.

“Not like I love you, Michael. Nothing like I love you. I’ve never loved anyone like that. I never will.  Nothing can kill me like that.”

Swallowing hard, he pushed the voice aside. Tried to erase the memory.  Forced himself to wipe away the image of lowered eyes, tears decorating her eyelashes.

Her sighing in a very demonstrative way brought him back to her now. Yeah, what a hardship to be here in the car with him. Using his blanket and his phone.

“How much battery is left?” He motioned toward the phone, trying not to sound cranky.

“Not much. Sorry.” She did that thing with her eyes where she looked up in this stupid vulnerable way he always had fallen for.  Damn...after all those years...

He cleared his throat.

“No, it’s fine. I’m glad you got to let the kids know you’re alive. They must have worried so much.”

“Yeah…”

"How are they? I miss them."

"They're great. Getting all grown up on me.  Freaks me out."

There- the first honest smile. Breathtaking when it lit up her eyes despite the darkness.

"Good...that they're good, I mean. Yeah..strange when kids grow up. Blanket is doing school work now and Prince..." Should he be talking about his kids?  Maybe that was too much info and she didn't ask, after all.  Damn- he hated not knowing what was allowed anymore. "Well, anyway...they are all getting bigger, too. Oh- Paris has been watching old movie's of your Dad."

Lisa looked up, surprised. "Oh, really...wow."

Silence only interrupted by the sounds of I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas.  And wiper sounds.

Lisa had looked down and suddenly looked up again. "She doesn't know about...I mean...She doesn't remember me, does she?"

"No, she thinks you're a little girl. I told her you are quite old."

"Gee, thanks for setting her straight. But...that's good, I guess. That she doesn't know."

The initial lopsided grin turned slightly sad. Interesting.

Why was that good? Was she that ashamed of having been associated with him at some point? He almost laughed at the word “associated.” When they had been so much more than that. Well, according to him. Seemed that Lisa had a different interpretation.  So, no, he had heard her loud and clear. The sound waves had penetrated the sand down to his submerged head. Hard to be deaf and blind in the face of Lisa’s sonic boom.  He had seen all her lovely comments, after all.  When he thought he had been loving and caring, she had described him as  "dangerous and scary" – lovely.

More awkward silence. This time set to Little Drummer Boy. He loved that song and could not help but sing along.

He felt her eyes on him in her little cover way. When he tried to catch her, she quickly looked away out the other window.  Funny, how she didn’t want to look at him.  After the song, the silence got to him, so he finally asked why she had been on the road in the first place.  It made zero sense. If she was so in love with Lucky how had she been out in this weather and ended up attached to a tree? And if the man loved her all that much, why the hell had he let her leave? In that ridiculous car, nonetheless. It was besides the point that Lisa probably still never did as she was told.

Of course, she didn’t give him a clear answer.  And here she used to call him evasive and secretive? All she finally said was that she had gotten lost on her way back from a meeting. When he had mentioned it was funny she had a meeting on Christmas Eve in a country that had just about hung out the “closed down” sign altogether, she became busy rearranging the blanket he had wrapped her in.

“You know how it is. Business before pleasure.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t know it was such pleasure to run your car off the road.”

“Really? Cause you’ve done it a time or ten.”

"That was only done for your entertainment. I loved how you flipped out."

She flipped him the bird. 

He burst out laughing.

“You know, I really missed you, Lisa.  I’m glad I was around to save your life today.”

Maybe a little sarcasm would get her angry enough to let on what she really had been doing out there.

“You didn’t save my life. You just…”

He looked over at her and raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck it. Okay. So, maybe I was in a ditch with a fucked up car…”

“In the snow…” He added helpfully, feeling an apology forming.

“Yes, in the snow, Michael.”

“In the freezing cold, in the middle of nowhere, on a deserted road on Christmas Eve.”

“You know, you shouldn’t have bothered. Maybe a guy with a white beard would have picked me up at some point. - But before you go on. Thank you. You’re a saint. I’ll have a statue built in your honor at the hallowed spot.”

This was Lisa's version of admitting he was right and it sure warmed his heart. He loved to see her little irritated pout.  So friggin'...

No, not sexy. He was totally not thinking that.

Deep breath.

Change of topic to a cold shower item.

“So…I’m sure Lucky was happy you got to phone home. From someone’s car. ” He tried hard not to smirk.

Lisa rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, he was thrilled. He gets so worried when we are apart. We usually are together all the time. Never spend time apart.” The image her haughty voice conveyed made him want to barf.

“Must make going to the bathroom interesting.”

He felt her irritation without having to look at her. Which was fun. Always had been.

“Some people believe in hanging around with the people they love.”

“Well, I will try my best to have you delivered into his arms in no time. Isn’t this your first Christmas together? I mean after you magical Japanese wedding? By the way...you looked like you ate bad sushi...”

Shit! He wanted to bite his tongue. No need to let on he was fully informed about her timeline or her pictures in the media. She really didn’t’ need to know he was following her every move via the tabloids.

“We’ve had plenty of other Christmases, thank you very much. And we’ll have plenty more. Eternity is quite a while you know.”

So was damnation. He bit his tongue.

Glancing over made things easier.  He could tell from Lisa's tone she was irritated. Almost a shame he couldn’t fully appreciate those eyes throwing blue lightning bolts his way.  He did notice her pulling the blanket closer.

“Yeah, thanks to me you shall have all the wonderful Christmases in the world.”  He smiled over at her and was rewarded by that pout. Man…how long had it been since he had seen it in such quick succession. Directed only at him?  How many years… And they fell right back into the familiar patterns. Something tightened in his pants. Oh, shit. Yep, that was also part of that old routine. Fighting and… No, no, no. She’s married now.  Again.

Whatever. Talk about familiar territory.

“Jesus Christ! You are so right. You are amazing, Michael.” She clapped and grimaced some fake-ass smile.

He smirked again and turned the radio up. For the next ten minutes or so, almost deafening sounds of Christmas songs filled the car as he concentrated on the increasing snow and horrible driving conditions.  Looking over, she noticed Lisa biting her nails.  He knew she was dying to keep from commenting on both his driving and the volume of the radio.  Someone had been working on her self-control!

“Hey Lise- can you call that number again? The one with the hotel I gave you. Maybe we will make it there and I want to make sure we get a room. From there, we can get to my house- or your man can pick you up later.”

The thought of seeing the guys face when figuring out who the someone was she spent alone time with was almost worth the trouble. Now, now.

Be nice, Michael. It's Christmas, after all...

Worried he watched the gas gage. Suddenly, he doubted they’d get anywhere close to the hotel he had in mind. They had not been able to get through earlier due to bad connection. Maybe they’d have better luck now. Cell phone service in this part of the country was obviously still shaky.  Normally, he loved how things were behind the times a bit here. It was so charming. Unless you were in a stupid storm, with your sullen ex-wife. 

Still gorgeous, sexy, ex-wife…

Shoot…what was wrong with him? He didn’t even have a chance to look at her yet all that much. He had been so freaked out to find her in that car.  With a nasty little cut on her head. What were the chances? Why did some force keep throwing them back together like that? When really, he had tried everything possible to haul ass and run the other way.

“Hey…I got through…” Her voice excitedly announced.

Okay, things were looking up. For a moment, anyway. Listening to her conversation his heart sank again real fast.  It was obvious the hotel was full. And he didn’t know of any others in the area. His eyes found the dipping needle again. No, there was no way they’d get anywhere fast if he didn’t find gas soon.

Lisa hung up. “Now what? Can you drive me to the place I’m at? It can’t be all that far…”

“Lisa. You told me you were lost and had no idea how to get back. How the heck am I supposed to know how to get you back? Especially, since you forgot the map in your car.”

“Yes, it’s all my fault.”

Come to think of it, as a matter of fact, it was.  If it hadn’t been for her, he’d been out of this country yesterday. As planned. He almost said something to that effect, too. Till it occurred to him, he could not be certain. Yet, anyway. And he didn’t feel like making an ass of himself, accusing her of trying to get to him.

“Well, it ain’t mine.” No, this was all her machinations again. Always trying to work some angle. Funny, how she had accused him of that over and over.

“It is! Michael- did you get my messages? I tried to talk to you.”

Shit. Leave it to Lisa to take the bull by the horns. 

“I don’t think I did.” 

Michael focused on the road, making sure he didn’t have to accidentally look at her.  He hated lying. Why did he always feel the need to with her around?

“You don’t think? You wouldn’t know if you got messages from me?”

“I…I’ve been busy with…stuff…and…ah…you know…I had to get the kids ready to go back to Vegas…so…there were many things I didn’t get to catch up on.”

Real, smooth, man! She’d never figure out you’re making excuses now.

"Yeah, whatever..." She looked like she was about to say something, then looked ahead again.

“Hey, Are that lights up there?” Lisa pointing up ahead distracted him from feeling like a total ass for a second.

‘Mike, look! I think there’s a little town or something. Oh, shit, we did it! We found                                                          civilization again.”

They passed a small sign.  He blinked at the name. No, this had to be a joke.

Lisa turned to him, laughing. “Did you fucking see this? How funny is that?”

Gosh, her eyes…Her mouth. 

Deep breaths! Mike, dude! Chill! This is a dire situation! And you are about to enter the little town of Bethlehem. How odd was this night gonna get?

“Ironic more than funny.”  He just couldn't help himself and smirked at her eye roll.

"Hey- I think there’s a gas station up ahead. Funny ‘cause I don’t see many houses or anything yet.”

Good. If he could fill up and maybe make a call or two, he’d find a way to get back to Paddy’s house where he had been staying. And to get Lisa a way to get reattached to her Siamese twin with the amazing wardrobe. He’d hate to keep her from her loving man.

The thought stung in a place no band aids could reach.

Once, there had been a time when no one else existed for her when he was around. Certainly not any superfluous husbands. Maybe he had misjudged her.  Once he had asked her to be friends. Well, he had been full of shit- had wanted to have her in his life by any means. But maybe, maybe she was at that point now for real. Wanting him as a friend.

Well, fuck that shit!

What, don't like when the shoe is on the other foot? When the decision isn't yours? When you notice her obsessive focus on you has been pried lose by life?

On the other hand, she wanting to be a friend was a step up from indifference.  Shoot...not even the crap you stepped on your dog left behind leaves folks indifferent. Was he really less than that? Well, maybe not anymore.

The pondering reflections were cut short as they approached the gas station which looked strangely dark.

“Doesn’t look exactly open…fucking shit. You think it’s closed, Mike?” Lisa looked over at him with her eyes requesting a reassurance he feared he could not provide.

Something gave him a strange little twinge. Second time she had called him that. His friends and family called him Mike. And Lisa had on and off. Not in year’s though.

He swallowed, trying hard to divert his thoughts.

“Ah, no. Hope not. I I mean, maybe they’re just saving energy. You know, they are not as irresponsible here as we are in the States.”

Trying to believe his own bullshit, he pulled up next to the door.

“Can you read the sign on the door, Lisa?” 

“Don’t have your reading glasses, gramps?” She teased.

Yeah, he’d show her gramps. Right after he’d made her scream the other name she always had for him.  More inappropriate stirring in a region that should not even be remotely involved in snow disaster emergencies. Shoot, where had those thoughts come from? Women!

“Fuck… ‘Closed for Christmas- See you in church on Christmas Day.’ Great.”

“Dammit!” He bit his lip and Lisa turned toward him, her eyes big.

“You cursing leads me to believe we are just about on empty. How bad is it?”

“Well…”  Should he tell her? No need to cause a panic. On the other hand, she’d probably catch on pretty soon when he’d ask her to push.

“Mike…”

“Fine…we are about out. The light just came on.”

“Shit…oh look.” She pointed toward the dark door again.

“What?”  No amount of squinting helped to see what she was pointing at.

“There’s another poster or something. Announcing some breakfast at the local Travelodge. It’s outdated, but hey- that must mean…”

“Like a hotel thingy?”

Lisa turned back to him. “No, Michael. I’m sure it’s a butcher store called Travelodge.”

His turn to roll his eyes. “Sarcasm never suited you, my dear.”

“Well, I must have always seemed badly suited then. As I’ve always been sarcastic. And I’m not your dear. Dear.”

He was tempted to tell her to fuck off. But while things felt pretty damn familiar, they were not back to that level.

“Does it say where?” Ignoring her was usually a safe way to go.

“No, but how big can this place be? Not like I even see any houses. But maybe it’s some major hub for whiskey smugglers. There’s a gas station and a hotel.  And you know what? Hotels don’t close.  Holidays are big business. So I think we’re golden.”

One question begging to be asked was big business for whom? The rabbits and deer? As she had pointed out, there weren't any houses.

Lisa raised the phone and started dialing.

"Lise..no...the battery!"

Pulling away, she shrugged him off. "Shush! There's a number on that poster. I'll find out where they are.... Yes, hello...is this the ah..Travelodge in Bethlehem?"

Great. Now she was wasting the last bit of battery power for nothing. He listened to her confirming there was one room remaining. Big deal. He was so not about to stay in this place. If he had a choice. The thing was, maybe there wouldn't be a choice. Not unless there was a second gas station run by someone not celebrating Christmas.  Maybe Bethlehem was a center if Judaism, Islamic faith, or even Jehova's Witnesses.

Or hobbits. About as likely as the aforementioned, Mike.

Well, dreaming never wrong.

His dreams were cut short by Lisa's curse.

"What?"

"The phone line went dead." Lisa dialed again. Oh oh..he knew that determined look on her face. She was on a mission now.

"It's ringing...”

That little triumphant smile was almost making up for her being smug.

"Hello. ..yes, I was just talking to you. Could you reserve that room? Yes, Lisa Smith...yes, on our way. What? Hello....hello... Shit!!!"

This time she threw the phone onto the backseat. Temper!

"What now? Throwing it won't improve the connection, you know!"

"Well, maybe the static from sliding along that backseat can restore the battery. The damn thing is dead, Mike. Shit, shit, shit!"

Great. Little Miss Chatterbox had killed his battery and now they were about to run out of gas. Note to self: leave damsels in distress looking like ex wives stuck in snow igloos from now on.

Like you could ever leave her.  Anywhere. Ever.

He sighed. Shoot, it was true.

"But guess what?" Her eyes got a cheeky glimmer.

"What? Santa will be right by to pick us up? Since we are on empty and..."

"I know where the hotel is. And if you're real good I'll share the info."

"Yes! That's...that's the best news I got in ages. I...I wanna kiss you right now! Yes!"

Not bad enough the outburst totally took him by surprise, but no, he knew it was true. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and place a wet one on those tempting lips.

"Oh yeah?"

What was that smile about? That glance up from below her lashes? Oh no, she better not throw out a challenge. She should know better.  Don't light the match next to the powder keg storage. Not after the long, disastrous drought.

It was difficult to decide whether to stare into her eyes or the soft lips. That buzzing started from his belly and somehow ended up in his crotch, making his pants run out of space. Dang! Girl friend still affected him like in the old days. And here he thought he had lost all interest in sex.

Well, she hasn't been around...

Oh shoot. She was not the only game in town...or this planet... Plenty of women were interested in getting into his plants.  Too bad is own interest had been less than keen. Well, kinda nice to know he was not dead in that way.

"I meant... You know..it's...ah...just a saying. But yeah, you did good girl." Gosh, was he blushing again? This was so stupid.

"Oh, God! A compliment? Are we close to dying? Don't scare me!"

Her eyes smiled at him. He could swear he saw little sparks in them. The moonlight reflected in a secretive, perfect ponds. 

"Not if your ability to give direction has improved. Lead on Princess, lead us to our castle."

"Oh good. Guess we'll live after all." Lisa laughed and buckled her seatbelt back up.

It was difficult to not be pulled in. Giggling himself, shaking his head, he pulled off into the night again. Not even the increasing snow and wind could stop the thought that things were finally looking up.

5

“Well, did you get it?”

He was sitting slumped down in his seat with his damn fedora pulled just about down over his ears. Did he not realize it was totally dark and there wasn’t a soul out here in the persistent dumping of snow?

I really didn’t know what to tell him. Did I get the room? Well…I had gone into the place after we found it. Michael had been all paranoid about me being recognized, so he made me pull on his parka, put the collar up, and brushed my hair over my face so I almost looked like Cousin It from Addams Family. I would have been annoyed but I was slightly distracted by having his hands on me again. Bad enough to feel his fingers in my hair, but every now and then he touched my face and every time that happened I felt as if I had been zapped by some magic wand that started a reaction down my net of nerves from my face to my belly- and from there further south. What the fuck was wrong with me?  I thought I had gone cold turkey and got over that addiction?  Guess I wasn’t just a casual junkie. I seriously could not afford to be near to my drug.  Which was dangerous- given I had not even considered him my poison anymore.

Well, funny, how I could delude myself with continents and time between us. Now- there was nothing. Nothing but his touch and his eyes…his scent.  My extremely strong urge to want to be pulled into his arm. For a hug… A kiss… God- how did he still look this heavenly?  It’s been years that I had seen him in person. He looked more chiseled now. The lines in his face telling the story of everything he must have been through. That look of innocence had been ripped from him- there was a haunting, hunted quality to his features, especially his eyes.  I tried really hard to not allow my own eyes to roam all over him. But damn- during all his bitching and teasing- his familiar baiting me…how could I help but became entangled in the glances, the smiles..the way he bit his lips.  The way he brushed a strand of his hair out of his face.  Everything seemed eerily familiar.  And horrifically foreign at the same time.

I had suggested he could just go in himself, if he didn’t think I was inconspicuous enough, and he informed me that I knew very well that was not possible. Sadly, I knew he was right. Even though we were what seemed to be at the edge of the universe, he still would be recognized.  Which meant, without a shadow of a doubt, that, despite the blizzard, hoards of fans would appear out of nowhere and deafen us with their screams.  I didn’t know how they’d get here- but I knew parachuting in was not totally impossible.

So, in I went, guided by the Travelodge sign. Or ‘Tavedge’ if one only read the illuminated bulbs on the sign. I really was glad the sign was there though, as to me, the whole building looked about as inviting as some ugly third world office building.  Opening the glass door, I was assaulted by some smell somewhere between chlorine and musty ancient dust. Damn! How old was this place?

Some stuffed animal with dead eyes and bald spots greeted me from what I assumed to be the front desk. Oh shit. Well….maybe all their funds went into making sure the rooms were cozy and comfortable. After all, the comfort of guests was surely a major concern. And Ireland was such a friendly place. So…yeah…who cared what the front desk looked like? Or smelled like.

Was that a beaver?  Did they have beavers here?  Mister Know-It-All would surely have the answer. I’d introduce him later.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

The beaver seemed to glare at me.

“You don’t count, buster. Where’s your master?”

I glanced around but was utterly unsuccessful in locating someone remotely human. Gosh, would I really have to ring that rusty brass bell?  I hated doing that. But I started to fear for the health of my lungs inhaling whatever it was.  And that Beaver thing didn’t smell all that great, either. Shit- I hoped it was the work of a taxidermist at least. I’d hate to think that was the house pet that had simply frozen to death before it could scamper off.

I pulled the parka tighter.

“Hello?” This time I did ring the bell.

Fuck!

I sure hope no angel’s wings were connected to that brassy sound. Ouch!

“I’m here, I’m here. Where’s the emergency? Oh, hello little lady. What can I do for you…”

The master of the house, keeper of the zoo, arrived with his sweet Irish accent. And cologne that was reminiscent of Jameson.

And that had been the highlight of the conversation. Joey, as he introduced himself with a wink, had been a combination of flirty and drunk. I envied the latter. But he assured me he remembered me from the call earlier and that no one else had come by to claim the room.

Yeah, no shit! Who else would be stupid enough to be out? Or come here? On purpose?

“Oh- you are the American lady! I knew right away you be America, y’a know. And may I say you got one sexy voice. So…where is that husband of yours?”

A moment of panic. Had he recognized me? How did he know Michael was my… Oh, right… I had told him that me and my husband were looking for a room.

I was not too pleased he had decorated the ‘husband’ part with an emphasis almost as dirty as the lobby and gifted me with yet another wink. Maybe he had some kind of tic disorder. Or he thought I had chosen this illustrious establishment as the ideal setting for a Christmas hookup. How desperate did I look?  And did that happen often? Did people come here just to fuck? I glanced around.  Yeah…why else would they drop by?

“No need to blush, lassy. Many of our visitors are here for a romantic getaway. I reckon we just bring it out in folks.”

Yeah, I bet! Clutching to another human being in horror was probably as natural as trying not to breathe here. All in all, it was probably better for my mental health to not even wonder who the other illustrious hotel guests were.

“And guess what? Right after we talked our phone service went down? How lucky is that?  A miracle, right?”

“It’s a miracle your lines went down?” This place looked like it was a miracle they were connected to anything invented this or the past century.

“No- that we got to reserve this wonderful room for ye. You know, it IS Christmas, and you and your husband were pretty lucky to find us.”

“Can I look at the room first, please?”

“Well- sure. But I’m telling y’a, these are prime quarters, they are.”

They had to be. Not like we had any options tonight. No gas, a storm, and no phones.  Oh holy shit!

And so I had decided to forgo inspection of the room.  What did it matter? We were stuck. And how bad could it be?  So what, if this was not Hilton standard? It might be funny to see Michael freak out a bit.  Unless he decided they were charming and reminded him of the clusterfuck he called a bedroom. But no- he normally only appreciated messes of his own making.

“Lisa? Did we get a room?”

“Ah, yeah, they have rooms. Or a room, as he put it. The bridal suite.”

“Oh, lovely. See?  This will be great. Did you ask if they had any other rooms? I mean…really we…we like need two, right?”

Funny, how he could not look at me. And funny how I seriously wondered if that meant he wanted us to have one or two rooms. Damn- when had reading him become so difficult?

When had it ever been easy?

“They don’t have two, Michael. You will just have to make do with one room. Sorry. I think he said it had a sofa. So…”

So, his virtue should be protected.

Delusional little idiot.

Oh, shut up!

“Well, if it bothers you, we can call your husband and maybe he can come and get you. Now that we know where we are and maybe the people in there can give us directions.”

I tried to figure out if he was trying to get rid of me or be reassuring. His even face gave me nothing.

“Oh, the phones are dead. So- that plan, while really great, won’t do.”

“Oh…okay. Well, guess we are kinda stuck then.”

He fidgeted around with his hat, avoiding my eyes.  I mean, shit. I surely was not that bad a room buddy to have.

Yeah, Lise. Cause when you think of you and Michael in a room the word buddies comes to mind right away.  Often preceded by the word ‘fuck’…

Gosh, and why did the mere word cause some kind of chain reaction in your body? Lisa, you are married! You better get out of memory land and…into a room. With Michael… Well, maybe it was a really big room. With two huge beds far, far away from each other.

“Sorry to upset you.”

“You’re not…” He mumbled, then straightened, looking around with a purpose. 

“Okay…are they coming to get our luggage?”

Was he serious?  Was he waiting for the reception line to form as well? If there was some grand staff, would they not be busy replacing burnt out bulbs?

“I doubt it, Michael. This is not the Taj Mahal. I mean, wait till you smell that funk in there. It’s so fucking gross. Like someone washed a dusty floor with old mop water. And then there is some rabid critter sitting on the front desk…I think it’s dead…But shit…yeah… I really, really hope the rooms are okay. But I’m getting odd vibes here…And probably a staff infection.”

Michael laughed and hopped out of the car. “You are so frigging spoiled! Freaks you out to see how the little people are living, princess? Well, guess what? I’ve been learning to live in a more humble way. You know, like regular folks.  I know how to carry my luggage- I even know how to cook and how to take care of myself and the kids.  Vacuum, laundry…you name it. Martha Stewart can learn a thing or two from me, girl. So- let me show you how it’s done. Stay close and learn from the master.”

And so, the master grabbed his bag and just about skipped through the snow toward the gates of our certain doom.

No, be positive, Lisa. How bad can it be? 

Five minutes later, I knew I should not have tempted fate.

Against all odds, and initially fearing we had the wrong key, we had managed to pry open the door at the end of the dark, pungent hall. We had to take the stairs as Joey had warned us that electricity was spotty and the elevator was going “in and out.” I had been stuck in an elevator with Michael before. The thoughts pushed the chills from my body and heated me up in all the wrong ways.  Oh no- it was way safer to take the stairs.

My eyes labored to adjust to the darkness greeting us after we just about busted the door down. What little I could make out in the dark looked scary.  But hey, the darkness could be deceiving. Michael reached in and angled for the light switch. A faint little bulb strained and came on.

Shit! The darkness had been kind.

I could hear us both taking in a breath.

Holy fuck! What was that? Did people really choose to lodge here? How did the local prison look in comparison?

And the smell… I coughed.  That gasp of horror might have poisoned my lungs! 

Michael looked over at me.  “Okay. You got me. Very funny. You win. You set all this up, right?”

“What?”

Had the shock short circuited his brain?

“Admit it Lisa. You set all this up. It’s all some elaborate joke. I gotta give you props. I surely didn’t expect you to go this far.”

Was he serious?

“Michael, you really think I set all this up? The accident? This place? You running out of gas? Both our phones dying. Their phones being down. This ….dump?”

His smile faded.  Reality settled in.

“Fu…dge.”

“No, fuck! You can’t whitewash this. Nothing close to washing occurred here in centuries.”

I could tell from his snorting sound, he for once agreed with me.

Reaching for my hand, Michael took a tentative step inside. When the door slammed shut behind us, I felt as if the dungeon had been locked. Maybe we’d meet the beaver’s parents. Unless he really was a rat. I shuddered.

My hand tightened around his and he returned the squeeze.

Michael flipped another switch and we saw more of the room.  I almost told him to turn the light out again. Oh shit. Well…this was…ah…unexpected. We found a couch, some funky looking table that looked like two legs were different sizes than the rest, a stained desk with a lamp and what looked like a small kettle, some teabaggies- and, a  very small looking bed. 

I let go of his hand and stepped closer. Which was a huge mistake. What I had hoped to be some interesting variations in the pattern of the spread, or some mysterious shadows, were, in fact, spots of unknown origin. My stomach flipped. 

“Maybe it’s better than it looks...”

“Or smells….”

Michael pulled a small bottle from his pocket and started spraying cologne.

The move made me laugh. “Seriously?”

“Hey…trying to be positive…at least it’s ah…shelter.”

“I think a manger full of cow shit might have been cleaner.”

“Maybe it’s just…worn…”

“No, Mister Sunshine. This is a dump…”

Michael seemed to think about that.

“Do you think…people stay here…like voluntarily?  I mean…real people? And they pay to stay here?”

His face made me laugh. He was so cute.  It reminded me when he told me about having filmed the video- short film- for Bad and he had seriously been shocked to learn actual people lived in the neighborhood.

“People probably just come here to fuck and run…might explain the stains on the comforter. Remind me not to sit there without protection…”

“Lisa!” He giggled. “You are so gross!”

“Hey- it’s pee, poop, blood, or cum… which one would you prefer? See, they give you options here.” I could not help but laugh as well.  My only other option was to burst into tears. And my head started to hurt again, reminding me that crying was not a good idea. After everything that happened today, if I started now, I might never end.

“Well…” I could see he was trying hard to collect himself. “The couch looks…okay…”

Stopping laughing for a second, I looked over at thing with the shabby, balding material- also decorated by interesting patterns.  There was no adequate way to describe the color. It was beige, green, yellow…all in one.  Baby poop came to mind.

“Yep…” My voice was not stable at all. “It looks…”

We both looked at each other, then cracked up again. This whole night had been so bizarre. I almost started to believe I’d wake up any second.  In bed with Lucky.

Missing Michael…

No, no, no…this was so wrong. What was I doing?

Why was I risking my hard won serenity? And had you told me all this before I would have denied any risk with a straight face:

Oh well, surely I wasn’t risking much. Driving out to talk to Michael. Getting stuck. Being rescued by him…being stuck with him.

Reality hit me like a ton of bricks. Oh, shit, I was actually stuck with Michael. In a nasty little room. Together. Alone for the first time in years.

The feelings he had unearthed…Was I really ready for this?  How deluded had I been to expect gravity to persist in his presence?  I could feel my whole being starting to break free from all earthbound, anchoring concerns, and start the dizzying free floating existence once more.

Stunned by the sudden realization, my laughter was extinguished and I felt weak.  I sat down on the couch.  Which retaliated by squeaking as if I’d landed on a cat.  Maybe it was Mallory’s mother. 

Michael dropped down next to me. “Oh, God! What is this thing made of? It’s hard and pokey and too soft at the same time.”

My body only heard ‘hard and pokey…and soft’… Damn!

Michael threw his fedora across the room and it looked as if it was going to slide across the surface. Well, until the dance was stopped by something sticky on the table. His face was priceless. A perfect concoction made from morbid fascination and disgust.

“Do they ever clean here?” He tried to move the hat by bumping it with his foot. It stayed glued.  He looked over at me, eyebrows raised.

“I guess they’d have to apply pressure to clean…and this table doesn’t look like it can take it.”

“What do you think it’s made of?” His foot now tapped the table. It sounded like bad particle board. Or good cardboard.

Michael unbuttoned the sweater thing he wore.  I had to admit. The heater was working overtime. Loudly, but overtime.

“How’s your head?” He turned toward me and my breath hitched. This was the first time I had gotten a clear, unobstructed view of the face I had seen so many nights in my dreams. And nightmares.  His hair was messy, his eyes clear, but a bit tired, and there was stubble on his face. I had never seen anyone look more amazing.

I swallowed hard.

The room temperature really was getting to me and I felt dizzy.

“Fine…” my voice sounded as if I had a cold.

“You might have a concussion, you know.  I think you need to stay awake tonight.”

“I don’t think sleep will overwhelm me in here. Something might bounce on me…”  I looked over making sure I’d ignore his amused glance. “I mean Mallory’s twin or older brother…”

No, Lisa…get those dawning ideas on how you could stay busy out of your head. You are married. And getting banged ten ways from Sunday would not help a concussion.

And knowing Michael…

Shit! I really had to stop this. Maybe he was right. Maybe I did have a concussion. Or whatever serious brain injury led to those kinds of thoughts. I had cut out those memories! Had disconnected the pathways! Nothing but a barren wasteland had remained of my love for him. How did it grow into a jungle in just a couple of hours?

Michael wasn’t helping. He was way too fucking close.

Leaning in even further, he reached out and gently brushed my hair to the side, inspecting the Band-Aid.

I shivered and tried to back away.

“Ouch!” I banged my head on the back of the couch. So much for soft.

“Lisa! Let me have a look! You are such a baby!”

No, I was running on survival mode. And he was killing me.

“I’m sure I’m fine.”

“Yeah, well, I think we should clean out the wound and re-bandage. I really wish we’d have antibiotics here. Hey- I think I have some Neosporin in my luggage.”

“Well, and a surgical kit would be great, too. Gloves.  A hazmat suit…Or cleaning wipes at least.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Sure, make fun of me. But you’d wish we could clean this out properly.”

“Shit-I wish we could have this place cleaned out properly.” Or burn it down. That would be an improvement.

“Well, I wish I’d been on a plane to the States. But that didn’t happen, either.”

That twinge of guilt a gain. Man, at some point I would no longer be able to avoid the truth: I had delayed him. And had basically caused my own accident. Still- what I had not been responsible for was him finding me.  Or the storm. So- maybe there were enough random events around, he would not notice my part. Because, heaven help if he asked me to explain.  There was nothing I could say in my defense.  I had cut out his heart with a spoon- and had asked him to move on. Then I had done the same.  And yet, something was missing.  Somehow it seemed the glue holding together the shards of my life was made from his blood and his tears. 

What do you need Lisa? Redemption? A re-do?

 ‘So, Michael. Guess what? I am not indifferent. Surprise! I…I have no clue what I feel for you and I don’t want to think about it. As I am committed to someone I have no intention of leaving.  Someone who is healthy for me. Someone I can love and live to tell the story.  Merry Christmas and Good Will to Mankind. Bygones?’

Maybe I needed to hear him say it was alright. That my words had been for the best. That he hadn’t been all that hurt. That he understood.

Comprehended the injury I inflicted.

I still heard his heart breaking when I had told him I was indifferent. Yes, it had been my effort to save my life. But survivor’s guilt was a bitch.

“I bet you miss the kids, Michael. I’m so sorry…”

For everything. For abandoning you when I wasn’t strong enough. For not being able to tell you what my heart was screaming out at you. For not being the person I wished with all my heart I could be. The person healing you. Holding you. Loving you enough to fall on the sword.

I barely noticed my fingers had wrapped themselves around the slender wrist of his hand still checking out my little injury. How did he seem so worried about the small cut when a little more than a year ago I had tossed aside his shredded, gaping heart?

“I miss lots of things…”

Our eyes connected and I felt getting sucked into his soul. Before suddenly, the shutters were pulled. Ever so gently, he gently removed my hand from his and got up.  For a second he stood there, turned away from me. His shoulders low and defeated.  What seemed like a ragged breath went through him and he straightened.

If only I knew what battle he fought.  Was he combatting similar thoughts, or did he simply wish to be somewhere, anywhere but here with me?

“I think you need to get out of those clothes. They still feel damp. What did you do? Roll in the snow?”

I could tell he had reached for the safety exit. He always had been the smarter one of the team.

“No- but I kept having to get out to fight with my windshield wiper- and get snow dumped on me. I don’t think it ever totally dried.”

Suddenly, I felt cold.  When seconds before I had been steaming hot. My sun had orbited from its place. 

Michael picked up the suitcase and threw it on the bed. It landed with a loud thump and bounced once like a ball being dribbled on a hard surface.

“That didn’t sound encouraging…I think we’ll be drawing straws who gets to sleep on the floor and who has to sleep on the bed of nails.” His face was dead serious.

“I ain’t sleeping on that floor! I think you’d catch something for real. Hey- we haven’t checked out the bathtub…maybe that’s an option.”

“Well, I was just about to say we gotta get you out of those clothes…” He looked up and I stared at him.  He blushed. “I mean, to take a shower- or better yet a bath. To get you warm.  And then…”

“Then I get to put my cold, wet clothes back on? Or will we hold them over a candle.”

“Did you see a candle?” He looked hopeful.

“No- that would provide atmosphere. Or an incentive to burn the whole thing down.”

“The latter. But for real. That’s right. You don’t have luggage.  Guess you didn’t think you needed it when you went out for your little business meeting. On Christmas.”

“No, why would I assume some stupid ass deer was gonna attack me? And it’s Christmas Eve.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me. So…I guess…I mean…it you want to- you can wear some of my stuff.”

My turn to blush. Oh God! So many memories.  Not much either of us could say and not evoke memories. How many times had I pulled on his shirts…his pjs…his boxers…? How many times had I reached over and just pulled one of those damn red shirts on after making love. Running to the kitchen to get some snacks so we could go for another round…or two.  How many evening had I wrapped myself in his sweater or a light jacket, inhaling him, missing him, staying up curled on the sofa till he finally came back to me?

“Yeah…okay…well, maybe if I lay my stuff out it’ll dry.  I don’t wanna …you know…impose.”

“Whatever…be stubborn.”

“Look, I feel bad enough…I don’t wanna be in your debt.”

“Feel bad for what, Lise? I mean, with all the shit I’m giving you, not like you knew you’d trap me in some bad hotel after you wrecked your car. Shit- you couldn’t even know I was still in Ireland, right?”

Time to take that shower. I could tell he was fishing. I knew him. And I wasn’t buying that innocent face for one second.  That man gave sneaky a new meaning.

“No, Michael. Believe it or not, I didn’t know shit about your schedule. I had hoped to run into you to…you know…talk. Catch up.  But I had no clue where you’d be when. Or when you'd leave...”

I better be careful not to do that thing where I talked too much and he’d see right through me. He cocked his head and stared at me again. Goosebumps.  Yes, I was cold. The shower needed inspecting.

I moved toward the door I assumed led into the bathroom.  My hand touched the door handle.

“Catch up, Lisa? Like old friends or something? A bit odd…given…what you said last time we spoke. That sorta ruled out anything….like friendship.”

I squared my shoulders and pushed ahead, ignoring him.  Taking a deep breath, I flipped the light switch. How bad could the bath be? Right now I needed a refuge from him to rearrange my thoughts.

“Oh fuck!”

“What?” He was by my side in no time.

“Guess we won’t be sleeping in the tub…”

We stared at a very...ah...minimalistic bathroom. No, let’s be real. It was just plain nasty.  Broken tiles, a chipped mirror, a small sink, a stained toilet without a lid, and a standup shower with some plastic that might play the role of a shower curtain.

“I bet it’s cleaner than the bedspread..” Michael looked around and touched the towel hanger, which fought back by falling from the wall.

We both jumped back.

“Oh crap! I bet they will charge us for that.”

“We just tell them it tried to clobber us and we’ll sue them. That’ll make them reconsider.”

Michael went over to the sink. “Hey- Lise. Look- is that a pube in there?”

I glanced over and shuddered. “Or a spider leg. Fuck- I go with pubes. You know I hate spiders.”

When he looked over at me his expression was priceless.

“How would a pube get into the sink?”

I looked at him and had to smile. There was my Michael.  The brilliant mind that could be so utterly naive and innocent at times.  After everything, he was not going to join the squalor around him. Well, that and he probably didn't have too many experiences in places like this. Neither did I.  But my mind ran dirty.

“I don’t know…someone washed up after sex?”

His eyes widened in horror. “For real?”

“No, never mind. I think they just wiped themselves off in the bed spread- no need to wash up.”

“Lisa!” He giggled now, the sound of his laughter doing all kinds of strange things to me. “Go take that shower. I’ll stand guard.”

“You do that. Thanks.”

Oh, Michael. Don’t you know the only danger to me is right here? Well…and the cooties growing in wild cultures all over this room.  And Mallory and her family.  Maybe it was a good thing he stood guard after all.

He closed the door behind him, and I turned on the water, praying it would turn nice and hot. I wasn’t in the mood for any more bad surprises. Like cold showers. As much as I might need them as visions of me in Mike's duds and him in a Christmas birthday suite were dancing in my head. Man, I had issues.

I took off my sweater and started to unbutton my jeans. Funny, how he hadn’t even suggested he’d join me…or wasn’t peeking… Signs of the changing times. I hated change.

Lisa! What is your problem! Seems the eternal child had grown up while you act like a fucking horny little teenager with a hot ass.

No, it didn’t bother me at all that he didn’t’ seem the least bit tempted. I was just about to drop my pants when I heard him knocking.

“Lise…”

Grabbing my sweater and holding it up, I opened the door and looked out.

“What? You gotta pee?”

Or did you decide you suddenly wanted to protect me from the evil of this bathroom...with your mighty sword.

Stop it!!!

“Naw, I can hold it. Just wanted to let you know: I’ll try not to peek.  Promise.”  His face looked innocent as an angel’s. And then that grin broke through.

Shaking my head and fighting hard to look annoyed, I slammed the door shut, then sank against it, smiling. My insides turned to goo.  Mike was playing. 

And he remembered… The times he had promised to behave…only to appear in the shower next to me. Helping me wash…massaging my shoulders, shampooing my hair. Fucking me into another universe.

Shit. Getting wet usually involved water. Unless it involved Michael.

To my surprise, the shower actually felt like heaven. Funny, too- the soap smelled like Eau De French Whore, but I didn’t even mind as the hot dribble from the shower was the highlight of my day. I even managed to wash my hair. Which might have been a bad decision, given the towels consisted of small little scraps of fabric that I wouldn’t even use as napkins.  Or burping rags.

We had exactly four- and I kind of managed to dry off with three, leaving one for Michael. Hope he didn’t mind- but his hair was shorter than mine- so I won that needs assessment. And he was still a skinny ass.  My next difficulty arose from wrapping a towel around myself to make it back into the bedroom and being decent. Maybe I could knot them together and end up with something the size of a washcloth.  I should have taken him up on his offer and borrowed some pjs.  I could not close the stupid thing all the way around my body.  But if I held it just right I could shuffle in till I found something else to hide under.  If only they had…

I giggled.

What? Did I think there would be robe hanging behind the door? At this rate, we needed to be glad no former desperate guests were hanging from ropes. Not that any rope in this place would hold a person…

“Okay- keep the no peeking going. Those towels are...kinda small.” I stuck my head out the door before getting out. Michael had been sitting on the bed and jumped up as if stung by a bee.

For a second he just stared at me, before he lowered his head and turned. Was he blushing again?  Did I affect him? Or was he simply embarrassed?

This man who had touched me in every conceivable way made me feel as if we were two teens out on our first date.  It was kinda odd. And also kinda cute.

Michael cleared his throat, pretending he was busy with his bag.

“Okay…my turn.  Help yourself to cover up with whatever you need. I might have an old burka in there.”

“Very funny.” I reached for the blanket I had worn earlier and wrapped it around me.

Michael disappeared and I started to rifle through his suitcase. Let’s see…

“Lisa?” He stuck his head out.

“What?” My turn to blush. He had only a t-shirt on…and it looked as if his jeans had been unbuttoned.

“No peeking, remember?”

That damn smile again?  And it came, as always with a firebomb going off inside.

“I’ll try my best.” I hoped my voice was dry and sarcastic enough.

“You do that. You’re married after all…”

What was with him being all playful suddenly? God- that man was so damn confusing. And gorgeous.

Finding some pjs, I put them on. Nice…the silk caressed my body. Who but him owned silk Mickey Mouse pj pants.

"Lisa..."

Funny how it sounded as if he was right there in the room with me. Paper walls.

"What?"

Reaching for a t-shirt, I could not help but hold it up and smell it.

Gosh…

"There are some cereal bars and nuts and other snacks somewhere. Just dig through my stuff. But leave the flask alone."

"Holding out on me?"

"Don't you dare get drunk without me!"

Smiling, I inhaled again. Not feeling stupid at all, standing here, smiling like a silly oaf, sniffing his shirt.

Memories raced through me with a force it almost knocked me on my ass. No wonder they said the sense of smell held the key to so many of our feelings and recollections.

Pulling it over my head, I tried to find the escape hatch and re-enter the present. Which was damn hard. Wearing his clothes again. Being seduced by his scent.  And the man wasn’t even in the room.

I might want to start looking for that flask. Fuck the nuts and snacks! I needed to knock myself out to escape this weird experience back to a relationship that never had a chance. And a love that refused to die.

My eye fell on the bed.  The only bed. He had joked around about who would sleep where, but what was his plan? Would he sleep on the sofa?  With his bad back?  On the other hand, the bed wasn’t all that, either. I still remember how the bag had sounded hitting the mattress. And how the heck would we cope with the bedding issue?

Moving the suitcase over, I tested the mattress by pressing down into it with my hands. Holy shit! That thing was hard! Maybe it was some cover that had to be removed. Like a box cover or something…

I heard a little sound and looked over… Mallory?

No, no beaver to be seen.  Maybe it was her ghost.  In shackles.

Carefully, I moved the comforter. Holding it between my thumb and index finger, lifting it ever so gently. Okay…the sheets looked…okay.  They felt…crips… No, stiff. What was the thread count? Two? Ropes?

The little sound startled me again and this time I felt more than saw a movement out of my peripheral vision.

Oh shit!

Before I had a minute to think, my own shriek startled the shit out of me. Jumping up on the bed, I scampered back toward the headboard, still screaming.

6

 Her scream scared the holy daylights out of him, and without thinking he bounded from the shower.  In some reflex he grabbed the little gauze thingy masquerading as towel. Or an oversized washcloth. And that was a generous assessment. 

Michael almost busted his ass on the wet floor and slid to the door, ripping it open, holding the towel/gauze in front of him. Well, at least her yell had taken care of his ‘little’ problem in that regard.  Since all his self-talk in the shower, reminding him that Lisa was not his woman anymore, that he didn't love her anymore, and that she didn't care for him, was basically useless as far as his hard-on had been concerned.

Sure, it had been his fault, but he had not been able to resist teasing her just a tad bit.  Her shocked expression had been priceless.  But yeah, his body didn’t seem to realize he was kidding.  Cause that was all he was doing, right?   Oh man…how useless was his delusion if he couldn’t even sell it to himself? There were all these odd feelings tangling him up, rendering him helpless: anger, resentment, disillusionment...but there was also an odd tenderness, a playfulness...and certainly a strong sexual pull.  And here he thought he had transcended that stuff. But no...all it had taken was little Lisa, all helpless and sweet in a car, her head a bit more damaged than usual...her eyes, her mouth...that pout.  And that body...

Shit, when she came out of the bathroom with what seemed like a wet paper towel wrapped around her, her hair dripping, he almost had fainted.  Difficult to have a logical thought left when all your blood travels south. Sure he had seen her in way more advanced states of undress, but not in years.  And here she was. Gorgeous. Stunning. Tempting…  More than ever. She had filled out a bit more and was all woman.  He had certainly admired her ass in her jeans before, but he had tried his best to be a gentleman and ignore that nice bootie. Shoot- how do you ignore the woman whose body haunted you day and night when she was right there, in the flesh, wet, and almost naked?  It was not fair.  He was only human, after all.

And here he was- his dormant engine once again restarted by the only one who had to one true key to releasing that beast.  Lisa had always been his medicine- and his poison. Once upon a time she was all he ever needed.

But no..he had to remind himself: she was not what he needed. Arsenic was not his cure any longer. Loving her had rendered him way too vulnerable.  The rhino skin had turned to paper. He had exposed his weakness and she had shown him no mercy.  

Which did not mean he wanted her attacked and scared. By... What exactly?

"What the hell? Where’s the bear?"  His eyes scanned the room- which was still as shitty as before.  Where the heck was the fire? Or the intruder?

Personally, he'd prefer a bear to an intruder.  Much easier to deal with a bear, then with someone who might scream "Oh NOOO- It's Michael Jackson!!!!"- in either shrill delight, or utter disgust. Both were horrible options.

"A rat! There is a fucking rat in here."

He froze in place.  Now out of fear- but from utter disbelief.  Talk about overreaction!

Really?  All this fuss over some little poor critter probably trying to find something to eat and a warm spot to hide in. For a split second he was relieved. Then annoyance set in at record speed.  He almost broke his neck!  Not to speak of not being exactly dressed to the nines at the moment.

"Oh shit, Lisa. You ‘bout gave me a heart attack there. And I almost slipped on the floor. If I'd cut myself I'd have died from gangrene instantaneously."

"Which would have sucked as you would miss me being gnawed to death by a troop of rats! But knowing you, all you’d do would be to start serenading them with ‘Ben’."

Oh no, she didn’t go there! This woman was too much.

Knowing they were probably safe, he took a minute to absorb the scene presented to him.  Lisa was sitting on the bed, in his pjs and his shirt.  Her legs were all the way pulled up, her arms tightened around her knees.  The blue eyes were panic stricken and huge.  Her hair was still a wild mess…

No doubt, Miss Presley was pretty freaked out. And very, very cute. Damn…

"Rats? Now it’s plural? I thought said you saw one. Don’t don’t reproduce that fast, Lise. Plus, don't worry. Rats are very clean animals. They won't hang around in this place for long. What you saw was probably one running away from this dump in panic, warning the other rats that freezing to death might be the better option."

"Better for me, too.  As long as they can’t spread death and pestilence."

She glanced around the room cautiously.  This was too funny. She was really scared! Of some cute little mouse. 

"I think you are much closer to death and pestillence on that bed than from being in the room with a mouse." 

"It was not a mouse. It was a fucking rat."

Lisa glared at him defiantly. But she shifted around in clear discomfort. She probably remembered the mystery stains.

"How big was it?"

Lisa, for the first time really looked at him.  Sudden color returned to her face.  

Yeah, lady. Your hysterics got me out of the shower. Naked.  Or just about that. 

Her eyes revealed she obviously had arrived at the same conclusion. The expression and hue of her the deep pools changed.  He’d seen that look before.  Too many times.  And he had missed it with an intensity he would never, ever admit!   Not that he had known about it. Having been expelled from paradise his way to cope had been to erase the memory of splendor from his mind.  A solid wall had been build.  How come it suddenly was like the translucent skin separating cells.  Cells of a life sustaining organism he had forgotten he was part of. 

Lisa and Michael stared at each other before she became sidetracked by the waterdrops trickling down his body...down his belly to his waist... then her burning gaze flew back up to his eyes.  

Okay...the problem was back.  Kinda difficult to hide.  And kinda big. 

Lisa had turned beat red.  His own face felt on fire as well. 

"How big is… what?"  

Her voice was dark and hoarse. So much for her fear of rodents.  Erection trumps rat. Interesting...

Shit...

It grew some more. He cleared his throat as it felt as if it was going to close.  Suddenly he had a sneaky suspicion they were not talking about mice anymore. Well, he could do this. He could stay the course.  The lone captain in the hurricane. 

"The critter...how big? I mean...if it’s not big enough to be a threat, it's probably a mouse..."

Oh, it was big enough to be a threat alright. It might render Mr Lucky suddenly very unlucky. 

"It seems to be big....enough…" 

Funny how Lisa never agreed when he wanted her to, but now her admission came at a most inopportune time.  Or opportune…depending on how he looked at the situation.

Mike! Stop! She’s married!

Which of course had stopped him exactly how many times before? Oh yeah,  never, that’s right. 

To raise stakes a little bit more, Lisa’s  little tongue licked her lips in some reflex movement.  He felt the slick touch on him. 

Fucking hell, girl! Why did her voice stroke him down there like that? Why did her hot gaze reach out and touch him?  She should know... Why was she playing with fire like that? What was wrong with women?  Always tempting, always teasing.  

Not his fault all his resistances were simply melting away. Wax can’t be expected to stay solid when held up to the blow torch.  Seeing here there like that, in his clothes, her hair wild and her eyes on fire...

 No, I could not afford to go down that road.  He was misinterpreting the situation based on past experience.  A past when Lisa had desired him.  Now…now she was indifferent. She was simply scared. And she probably had a brain injury or something. Otherwise, she wouldn't throw that match into the gasoline leak.

Would she?

"Look, I don't see anything." Not like he was gonna bend down and check out under things...with his ass out as if he was about to have a medical procedure.  Actually, one of those gowns would be preferable right now.

"And if there is a mouse, it's probably more scared of you then you are of it." Kinda like him. 

Lisa looked down, her hair falling around her face.  She raised a hand and started to bite her nails.

"Stop that!" Pure reflex. He hated when she did that! Had he been closer, he'd have grabbed her hand. Well....much safer to be not there to touch her. 

"Fuck off!" Okay- the tone was back to fighting now. Much better than that ‘fuck me’ hue from seconds earlier.

He raised an eyebrow at her.  She shook her head, trying to hide a little grin, then looked down. 

"Okay, if you say so...Mayb it’s gone. Maybe I imagined it. Sorry...’bout interrupting you." 

Lisa! Can you manage to keep your eyes above my waistline? Jesus, woman!

"Can I get back to my shower now?  I think you did a good job scaring the rat away."

He needed to be frightened away as well. Before the honey got him stuck and he’d rip himself in half.

"Where are you going?" Scampering off the bed, she walked toward him, then stopped. He grabbed the towel tighter. Not that it hid much.  

One would think he'd step back and run for safety.  

Guess the honey had seeped out.  The siren call had been received and his systems took him off course.

So, instead of seeking the frozen shower he needed, he was frozen in place.

"I plan on finishing my shower. Why?"

Dude! You better get yourself and that stiffy back into the shower and turn it to cold. Have you gone nuts? What are you doing? This is little Miss Indifferent coming at you... Haul ass.

But that was the point. Lisa, in no way looked as if she was indifferent. She looked...high...

"Don't leave me..."

Oh baby, girl…don’t you know better?  I tried…so many times. How could I ever manage?

Another step closer.  This girl did not know what was good for her. Well, fine. If she wanted to play it that way.

"Wanna join me?"  His voice was now also deeper- as he obviously had descended into madness.  To prove just how fearless he was, he stepped toward her.

The azure of her eyes turned almost black.

"Michael...stop playing."

Yeah. How come the tone in those deep, mysterious depths did not remotely match her voice. Drowning in her eyes, he didn't know how he'd react.  And so, he reached out and touched her hair with the hand not clutching the towel. 

"I ain't playing..."

No he was serious.  On serious autopilot.   And so he did what seemed almost logical.  

Gripping her by his shirt, he pulled her into him and before he had any chance to read the warning signs screaming for him to run, his lips collided with her sweet mouth. 

Electricity.  Water... Impending death. 

She gasped and he broke away after the slightest contact.  

Their eyes clashed.  Blue storm colliding with dark tornadic funnels. 

All thoughts were short circuited and it became impossible to tell who made the next move.. Pure emotion..pure fire...total absence of insulation.  A reactor breach without a cooling system.    He had no idea where she ended and he began.  

Boundaries were blurry, and all he knew was that he was kissing her as if his life depended on the taste of her lips, her tongue, her breath. And she returned everything he gave...

Her little groan brought him back, dropped him to the ground.

Shit!

What was he doing?

She must have felt his hesitation and opened her eyes.  As his vision focused, the room was filled with their breathing.  Heartbeats like thunder.  Slowly they backed away from each other.

He should apologize. Only, he wasn't sorry.  

"I...Mike...I...shit...sorry...I guess it's..."

Lisa apologized? For him kissing her? That was funny.

"Ah...yeah...I know...I'm gon' finish that shower..."

Make that extra cold.

He turned and took a step away from her.

The invisible connection stretched to the point of pain.  Too soon.  Strings were reattaching with record speed. Suddenly, he reached for her hand before she could get away and he pulled her back into him, claiming her,  kissing her one more time.  

Exhilarated and horrified, Michael finally broke away and raced into the bathroom. 

Thankfully, the hot water had run out by the time he threw his head back and attempted to freeze out what had just happened.

Fifteen minutes later, when he was borderline hypothermic, shriveled up like a prune, and things were sort of under control, Michael felt like beating his head against the already cracked mirror. How in the world was she getting to him like this?  Surely this was some sort of hostage like syndrome, where he found he had a very deep seated alliance to someone who had kept him away from how life should have been. With just him, his music, the books...  As much as he had always longed for that once in a life-time love, that partnership, that person who was the other half of his soul, he now wondered if he had been the butt of some cosmic joke.  

Certainly, the concept was sweet and wonderful.  As long as that other half ran the same play and did not pull in the opposite direction.  Ideally, the whole great love story could have come to a dramatic and cataclysmic ending when he had called Lisa at his lowest point.  She’s catch his decent into hell and they’d ride into the sunset on their gleaming trail. Instead, everything was sucked into some black hole.  Now, it seemed as if someone had hit the rewind button and he saw it all developing backwards: Calming obscurity...then a spot of light, nothing but the prick of a pin at first.  Finally, flames, light, colors- chaos vomited out from perfect the perfect void. 

And he seriously had no idea how to handle any of the debris coming at him at lightyear speed. 

Okay..well. Maybe he could just act as if nothing happened. Surely, she wouldn’t object too much. Lisa was married after all. She probably did not want to talk about returning that kiss. She had hit her head. Possibly, he could convince her she had been hallucinating.  Yeah, that was a great idea, actually.  A bit mean, but hey. Self preservation was the key.  Also a new concept he had acquired in the past years. 

Maybe, if he was lucky, she had fallen asleep by now. Shit, no. She shouldn’t sleep.  He still was not  convinced she did not suffer a concussion. Sudden worry guided his hand as he  ripped the door open and burst back into the room.

Lisa, kneeling on the floor, her ass up in the air, straightened out. Good, she was awake.  Why was she on the floor?  And damn, that bootie had looked nice. He shook his head to dislodge the crazy. 

“Looking for something?”

“Yeah, the mouse. I figured maybe I can chase it out of the room. Figured he might be under the bed. But there is no ‘under the bed’, turns out. The bed is nailed to the floor, Michael! It’s basically a big box.” She blew her hair out of her face.

“Well, I guess we can pull straws about who gets to sleep on the box and who gets the bench- sorry, sofa. Given you already ruled out the floor.”

Lisa looked over at the identified piece of furniture. Or whatever it was.

“No, bench is right.- I can take it- it’s okay. I guess. I mean…I do feel a bit bad about…” She stopped mid-sentence and seemed to search for words.

Did she feel bad about the kiss?  Did she regret it? Was it true? Was it really over? Oh, wait- that would be good news, right?

Right?

No, you still feel…something. And aren’t you tired of thinking it’s all one-sided. Well, since her tongue was in your mouth maybe, just maybe you are not the only leper in that colony…

No, stop it.  The past was just that. They had both moved on.  

“For?”

“You know…the car, and you helping me and all.”

Oh, that.  See? She doesn’t feel bad about the kiss at all.  

And what was with the sudden rush of glee?

Lisa rose and stood before him.  Here she was.  In his clothes.  Man, this had always been a weak-spot. One of many. She had so loved to lounge around in his stuff- and it always gave him some odd, masochistic feelings.  Nothing more sexy than his woman in his clothes. Only…she wasn’t his woman anymore.

If only the lower region of his anatomy would also recall that small fact. 

He looked around the room and could tell she had rifled through his bags. 

“Well- nothing we can do about that now. And I’m glad you’re okay.”

Lisa followed his gaze to his stuff spilling from his bag.

“Oh, I was looking for the food you talked about. And the booze.”

“I don’t think you should drink- it might put you to sleep and you need to stay awake in case you got a concussion.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m cold and hungry and tired and stressed. It’s Christmas Eve and I can’t be with my family.  I don’t think a drink would hurt.”

“Well, good luck. I do have some nuts and stuff. But I don’t have any alcohol. I was kidding.”

Her forehead furrowed. Well, excuse him for not having the housebar she was used to.

“Why would you travel without something to drink?”

“Cause I planned to be on a plane where I would be served stuff, that’s why.”

He was tempted to add “duh”- but then his adult brain kicked in.  He was getting boring, indeed.

Lisa played with her hair. “Oh yeah…”

Yeah, this little lady was not totally on the up-and-up. Every time he mentioned he should be gone shades of guilt tinted that creamy skin.  Did she really think he didn’t already suspect she had something to do with his hold-up? But hey, for now, he’d keep his cards hidden. Certain cards anyway.  The ones he had not given away when he had gone all Tarzan on her- including a loincloth- and a raging vine…

They stood around awkwardly for a minute.  He thought he could hear dust bunnies chase each other in the silence. This was going to be a long night. Obvioulsy, neither one would voluntarily address what happened. And yet, the kisses had occurred. They ran in an endless loop in his head.  But there seemed to be some tacit agreement to just ignore that little firestorm.

“Hey, I know!”

Lisa’s comment woke him from his trance, and he walked over to his bags and looked for the cereal bars and bags of almonds. He tossed one of each over to hear and she caught them. Oh, good- her reflexes were working.

“Here… You know what? How to make a phone from plastic cups and dental floss, and gasoline from the sweat and tears of prisoners of this hole?”

“Close. I know how to make this night a bit better.  Or make us care less about being stranded without having a way out.  I think I’ll go downstairs for a minute.”

“To do what? To invite the front desk rodent to a party? Or beg for a better room. Maybe the guy is just messing with us and this is all part of a reality show.”

“No, ask for a mouse trap.”

“Don’t you dare!” 

Lisa laughed and pointed her fingers at him like a gun. “Gotcha! Chill! I’m gonna find us something to help us relax.”

“A secret tunnel that leads to the invisible luxury hotel next door? That’s the only thing that would induce relaxation.  Or a gas can full of enough fuel to get us the hell out of here.” 

One of her mother’s brooms would also be helpful to fly the coop. He should have searched her car better. 

“Nope. Better. This is Ireland.  Land of leprechauns and whiskey.”

Surely she didn’t mean she’d go hunting for booze.  No- he indeed didn’t need anything to lower his defenses. The fight against his urges was difficult enough in a non-inebriated state.

“I don’t need no whiskey.”

“Well, I do…I be right back.”

Before he could stop her, she had turned and was out of the room. And before he could appreciate the little break from constant temptation, he heard some loud banging followed by another scream.  Only this one didn’t sound like it came from Lisa. What the hell was going on in Dracula’s castle now?

UPDATE 12/29/12 STARTS HERE

7

Well, finally something had gone kind right. I clutched the bottle of whiskey and the cans of Guiness, juggling not to drop either one. I would need all the help I needed. Damn- I still could not get over what had happened. I could deal with the running off the road, with being stuck in a storm, hell, I could even deal with this crazy ass place. What I was not prepared to withstand was the onslaught of emotions resulting from the past thirty minutes.

Being freaked out by the little rodent. Michael appearing just about naked. His hair a wet, sexy mess. His skin glistening like the finest porcelain glazed by water drops. The little loincloth hiding exactly nothing. And his huge hard on…

My body still tingled from the mere memory.Which triggered all kinds of other memories.  How many times had he come out of the shower looking like that.  At times with a fire in his eyes and a dirty ass grin on his face, watching me get ready.  Other times he was totally innocent, which almost heightened my interest.  But at absolutely no time was I not stunned by the mere sight of him.  What I always was a bit surprised about was that we ever left the magic fucking loop of shower, bedroom, shower... Well, we were late to appointments quite a lot- but damn if we weren’t always nice and showered. 

So, yeah... There he had been. Wet, dripping, his body still as amazing as I remembered. His hard on still as pronounced - guess some part of him was happy to have found little ole me in the ditch.  Merry Christmas, Junior! And his eyes.  Always his eyes.  

While all of the above ingredients were pretty mindblowing, the powder keg didn’t explode sky-high until he did what I would have betted against with sure-fire odds. He kissed me. Michael had simply grabbed me, and kissed me. As if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. As if he had every right in the universe to do so. What the fuck was that about?

Well, and of course I had pushed him away in a fit of righteous indignation, slapped his face, and reminded him I was a married woman and that we had been over centuries ago.

Oh wait. That wasn’t exactly how things had gone down. That was the version in the parallel universe where things went as they should. The version in my world of continuous fuck-ups clung to him, inhaled him, and accepted the arrogant, pushy conquest of his tongue. Shit, shit, shit.  The starving woman had been pushed into the storage closet. And she went to town... You don’t go without nourishment for years and then politely nibble on the goodies.  You gorge... Till you die.

And I didn’t get away without reminders. My lips still felt swollen.  My breasts and pussy tingled. I could still taste him. My body had awoken like a wilted flower after the gift of rain.  Turgid, wet, pouting, and primed. And I wanted more.  So much more…

What would have happened had he not stopped? Would I regret it?  Was that even possible? How could I even be held responsible? My mind had not been working.  It had been incinerated by the heat. You don’t stand next to an erupting reactor and debate your exit strategy. You either run- or you get obliterated. I was less than a smoking pile of ashes.  Melted form held together by his mold.

So, I hauled ass. Joey and Mallory were great alternatives to me being fitted for a straight jacket.

Predictably, the only living- or in this case, dead, soul I found was Mallory. I was tempted to ring the little bell again, but then talked myself out of it as I didn’t want to play twenty questions with Joey.  He might wonder why I looked as if I’d been high- and yet was looking for alcohol.  The lesser of the two evils.  Only, where to find the numbing elixir? Last I checked, the liquor store was right next to the little designer boutique.  Down the hall from the restaurant. Not. Well, there was not even a little shop to buy toothpaste in.  They’d probably have to keep it clean and then guest would simply congregate in there and huddle together in defense against the invasion of bacteria taking place in the rest of the establishment. I wandered around and then saw the ‘no vacancy’ sign had been turned on. I guess they were really either fully booked or this was Joey’s way to enjoy his Christmas Eve. 

I noticed a sign at the door- stating management would be “right back.” My guess was that meant the next day.  If ever. Rats and sinking ships came to mind. Or an alien invasion. 

Lisa! You have watched entirely too many movies.  

Exactly! And it seemed I was the dumb white chick wandering off by herself, exploring. The one I always yelled at right before she got eaten by zombies. 

So, did I turn back to the safety of that sex pot I wanted to take a dip in so badly?  Of course not! Deciding to explore a little, I found a small room behind the front desk area. It contained napkins, some more teabags, an open box of petrified cookies from the last century, and – ta da- the bottle of Jameson and some cans of Guiness. Warm, of course. But shoot- maybe we could get some snow from outside, pack it into the sink, and have a cooler.  Oh yeah, baby! I did not have to deal with the reality of my sexy ass ex-husband fresh from the shower much longer. At least not sober.

I really didn’t care if he thought I should drink or sleep or what! I could deal with a concussion. What I could not deal with was my urge to rip that dern towel off him and take care of that candy cane. That long, thick...

Lisa!

Fuck! This would be a very long night. 

Of course I had forgotten to take the key, so I tapped on the door with my foot. 

“Who is it?”

“Santa Claus. Who do you think? Open the door- my hands are full.”

“What’s the secret passcode?”

“You better open this damn door or I’ll fuck you up for real!”

“Close enough. Hold on.”

Damn! What was he doing? I heard some scuffling around, followed by a loud banging sound, more noise, and Michael cursing under his breath.

When the door finally opened, he was hopping around while holding his leg. 

“See what you made me do?” He glanced up at me in that accusatory way of his.

What was his problem now?

“I made you amputate your leg by knocking on the door? I’m one powerful bitch.”

Looking around to put my loot down, I found the victim of Michael’s clumsiness.  The little  couch table was no longer on his four mismatched legs. He had lost one leg and had collapsed.  Somehow it suddenly appeared to look appropriate in the room.  

“All this fuss about running into this little thing? Shit, Michael- all you get from that are papercuts. Lucky for you I found some alcohol. And we ain’t gonna waste it by washing out any wounds so don’t even go there.”

“You are one cold woman, Lisa Marie Presley.” He stilled and took a break from his life-threatening injury. “That is still your name, right?  Or are you Lisa Lockwood?”  He didn’t hide his little chuckle very well.

Predictably, my level of amusement did not match his.  Michael could be such a prick! As if he didn’t know full well, I’d never change my name again.  Because I’d never love like that again, after all. 

“Better be careful.  Your wit might provoke me to clobber you to death with your lost limb.  It’s Presley.  As you know full well. Now put that leg back under the table. I’m sure it was just propped up before anyway. I don’t wanna risk the integrity of this fine booze by putting it on the floor or the bed.”

“Can I look at my leg first?”

I shot him the look my kids were experts at interpreting. The one that sent them scrambling. Guess he knew it as well, as he shook his head then went to the task of repairing the table. While mumbling something a pushy broad. Knowing he couldn’t possibly mean me, I decided the little shelf thing that contained the teabags and what looked like an electric kettle was a safe enough place the honored guests Jameson and Guiness. 

“There- fixed- happy?”

“Should we dare to use the two cups in the bathroom to drink from? Or these plastic cups over by the tea are also an option. We can pretend it’s some fancy tea party.”

“Are you mad?” He looked downright scared. 

I opened the bottle and held it up in a toasting way. “ No, Mad Hatter- that’s all you. But good choice. The bottle it is! Cheers!”

“Lisa- I told you it might not be a good idea to drink…” 

I took a nice long swig, then looked at him triumphantly. Gosh, the liquid going down my throat and leaving a trail of fire down into my belly tasted so wonderful.  Obviously, he was just jealous.  With good reason. The room immediately looked better. This could possibly be the best hotel in the world by the end of the night!

Taking my bottle with me. I sat down on the couch.  Couple of more sips and my ass might not even hurt on the hard surface anymore.

“Stop bitching and have a sip. I remember a time you used to be fun, old man.”

The eyebrow shot up.

Oh yeah, Mikey still liked a challenge. 

What was that about diffusing the situation?

He sat down next to me and motioned for the bottle. Oh well, not like I had to exactly twist his arm, there. While he took a sip, his head thrown back, my eyes occupied themselves looking at his sexy neck.  Hm, hm, hm…

Oh yeah, Lisa. This Whiskey thing was a bright idea. Cause it was not difficult enough to not think about Michael in all kinds of sexual ways. 

But I’d be alright. I just needed to chill. Feeling on edge all night left me feeling like a loaded spring. If this tension would leave, I’d be alright. I’d be able to recall that I have a husband who loves me. And whom I love.  

Too bad that kind of love could not hold a candle to what I had felt for Michael. Thinking of a birthday candle next to a blazing forest fire could illustrate my point. One provided a happy glow. The other scorching madness, death, and destruction. Without the latter, the former seemed to provide a nice, comforting glow- but it was not even an afterthought when flames licked at my very soul.

Michael put the bottle down and hiccuped. 

“Whoa, there!” I took the bottle from him again.  

He wiped his mouth and looked over at me with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

“Didn’t you just say you didn’t want any?  You take damn big sips.”

“I do everything in a big way.  And I didn’t say I didn’t want any…”

Was it my imagination or were his eyes illuminated by some dangerous fire? And was he still talking about the Jameson?  And why did my nipples harden in a very visible way?  Must be getting cold in here. Time for another drink. 

When I put the bottle down, I finally felt as if the fire in my veins had at least as much to do with the liquor I inhaled as the man sitting next to me.

“You might wanna take it easy there, Shorty.”

“I think after everything I’ve been through today, I deserve some escape. And I ain’t short.  I’m perfect.”

Taken aback, his head turned toward me, and I saw he also heard the ghost of the long since passed conversation in his head.

Lisa...I love how your little body is so perfectly matched to mine...I love to hold you, touch, you...move with you. You’re perfect.  We’re perfect...

Michael took the bottle but strangely just sat there with it, suddenly seemingly lost in thought.

For a second he looked as if he was about to say something, then he seemed to shake it off. 

“Hey- after you left there were some odd noises.”

Grateful for him wiping away the image of the young girl snuggling against the handsome happy young man, I looked up at him.

“Odd noises? Like the place creaking or something?”

“Ah, no.  Like someone screaming.”

I stared at him. Was he for real?  Michael loved practical jokes and ghost stories, so I could not be certain what the heck he was up to now. 

“Sure you didn’t just hear yourself? You were probably screaming when you finally let out all that panic you been hiding from me about having to encounter how that charming humanity you always babble on about lives?”

I took the bottle and another sip.  Oh yeah.  It was kicking in now.  I was ready to take on screams in the night.

“No, Lisa. A moan...and a scream...and then some...like thumping noises.”

A lightbulb came on in my head.

“Thumping?”

“Yeah, like banging.” 

Oh, Michael! He was too cute in his innocence. I bet he heard banging, alright.

“Banging like what?” I might as well have a little fun at his expense.

Sighing, he got up and looked around the room, obviously looking for props to recreate whatever went bump in the night.  Or was banged.  

Turning, he got back on the sofa on his knees, facing the wall.  He grabbed the back and rattled the whole couch, hitting the particle board against the back.  Thumping ensued.  Oh yeah- and I bet it sounded just like that, too.  It was becoming difficult not to grin.  It was also difficult to not look at his ass as the recreation of the thumping also brought some other recreation to my mind. With Michael on his knees...on a couch, holding on to the back.  The only difference was I was the recipient of his humping motions in my mind’s eye.  

Better take another sip.

Michael looked over and blew his hair out of his now flushed face. Was he catching on yet?  If he was, he didn’t let on. “There- just like that. And I don’t wanna go on showing you or I’d break a hole into the wall for sure.  I feel like we are in some Japanese place here.”

“No, it’s fine. I got it. And those screams... Did they sound anything like this: Yes, yes, YES! Oh, baby... give it to me... give it to me good. Oh yes, I’m getting there, oh yeah...so good....oh baby....ahhhhhh!!!! “

Getting into it, tossing my head from side to side I gave my best When Harry Met Sally recreation. Or, in honor of our history, a pretty good recreation of me cuming all around his dick. 

Michael’s eyes widened and he blushed furiously.

“You think... No.... Surely...Oh....wow...”

Okay, that was it- I could not hold back the laughter any more.  It bubbled free.  At first just a small trickling, I soon was caught up in a hysterical torrent racing toward a waterfall. Trapped, doubling over, I was hiding my face in my hands.

“Shit..” I was able to get out between cracking up, “What else the fuck is there to do?”

Michael had continued to stare at me, then finally sat back down on the couch properly.  I glanced over, still laughing.  His semi shocked, semi disgusted expression made me tumble over again.

“Oh, Gosh...And here I thought someone was getting killed...”  The humor in his eyes now relaxed his face, and he started to giggle as well. “Guess I was right...”

“Oh shit, Mike.  I’m thinking how funny it would have been had you burst in over there! Surprise! Yes, this place is as pig-stye, but we give you Michael Jackson to serenade your fuck fest.”

“Lisa!” He was seriously laughing now as well.  How long had it been since I heard that sound.  So sweet, infectious...  I looked over and suddenly I saw the man I had fallen in love with all those years ago.  Without any pretenses, any schemes, any barriers... 

Averting my gaze, I knew it was time to get back on my watch.  The night was still young. And there was great danger sitting right next to me.

Michael finally calmed down as well.  He reached for the bottle and took a nice long swig.  At this rate we’d be knocked out in no time.  Perfect! 

“You know...” Suddenly serious again, his head lowered and his hair fell around his face.  I knew that trick. He was either about to tell a great lie and knew he’d be read, or he was about to say something so true he wanted to somehow escape being present for the impact.  

“I’m real glad you were okay. I mean, that you weren’t hurt when you ran off the road.”

“Yeah, it would have been quite traumatic to find a dead ex in the snow I guess.  Bad press, too.” I reached for the bottle again.

If he was gonna talk and not drink, he might as well hand the anesthesia back to me. Just in case he meant what he said. That he was glad I was okay. Because, wouldn’t that imply some sort of feelings? 

Don’t do it, Lisa. Don’t read anything into it. He also is glad the damn deer is okay.  And he might even love it - like he loves all creatures great and small.

All but me.

Which was not totally true. He had loved me. Or at least loved me as much as he could love another person.  Or so I thought.  

And just like that you’re back in delusion land, Lisa. What will it take for you to get the truth?

Only, depending where we were in this mess of a relationship, my versions of the truth were like day and night.  In one, he did love me, had granted me so endlessly more concessions than any other person not biologically related to him. In the other parallel universe, he used me for his own reasons. For publicity, as a baby-breeder, a blow-up doll...a wailing wall.

Ever so slowly he raised his head. His eyes knocked me back. God- when he lifted his protective shield and gave a glimpse of his soul, it was enough to steal your essence.  A gift- and a punch to the gut.

“Don’t do that.  Don’t pretend you don’t know...how...what you...what you mean..what you meant to me.”

His voice was shaky.  

My turn to hide.  Was I afraid of what I would find? Or what I would miss?

“Michael....I’m just..”

“Kidding. I know. You always joke when you don’t wanna hear stuff.  Only, then you accuse me of not saying the things...you...want....you need...”

“Please don’t say what I need to hear. Cause I don’t need you to do me any more favors.  Not anymore.  You done enough.”

You made me love you. And I can never recover from that.   

“All I’m saying is that I’m glad you weren’t hurt. And that fate or whatever had me come to find you.  That’s all. Can’t you just take things at face value? Don’t you know me enough to realize when I’m sincere?” There was that hurt timbre in his voice. Oh, he was good!

“I thought I did once.  But then I discovered there were so many versions of you that I could never know who’d show up.  It was a bit like being married to Sybill, I guess.”

“Well, whoever showed up today, pulled your ass out of a pile of snow. Unharmed.”  His tone turned cold.  Good.  I had protection against that. 

With that, he took a huge sip.  Okay. Touche.  What could I possibly reply?  So, I shut up. 

After what I’m sure he deemed to be an appropriate theatrical pause, held the bottle out to me. I shook my head.  This was not working.  Where was the numb state I craved?  I felt like the survivor of a horrific crash. My wounds too deep, the blood loss too draining, too many bones crushed.  No amount of morphine was going to soothe any of that.  Only death could.  Suddenly, I felt like crying. This was all so very wrong.  It was Christmas Eve, and I was supposed to be with my family.  My children who needed and loved me.  My husband who never had done anything to hurt me. The one person on this Earth who had always, always had my back.  I don’t know what he ever did to deserve messed up me.  He must have been Hitler in a former life. 

I also never understood exactly what Lockwood saw in me. No money in the world was worth what he got in return. I was a mess.  For years I had been almost emotionally cold.  Now, finally I had thought I could share myself and devote my heart to a relationship with a future.  Joke was on me!  My heart was not mine to give.  Or at least not that one, deep, dark, hidden spot.  The one that hid some secret hope that refused to die.  False hope- the perpetual poisoned apple in my Garden of Eden.

Hope for another chance.  Hope for salvation.  For redemption.

Which had me jump off the moon without a spacesuit and be sucked right back into the molten heat of Michael’s atmosphere. 

This was all my fault.  Once again, I had kickstarted chaos.  I had almost wrecked my life- which would have immense repercussions for my children. I would have to explain things to Lucky- and hope he’d understand once more.  I separated Michael from his three reasons for living, and landed us both in some bizarre time capsule on a spiral course between the past, the future, and the present.  And now, I was trying to get drunk to avoid having to face that insane pull I felt toward this man.  The very man I lied to and crushed his soul.  The man whose teeth I had kicked in when he was at the lowest point of his life.  

The man who just told me he was glad I was not hurt.  The man who had kissed me as if I was all that had been on his mind. The man whose eyes both incinerated and restored me.

“Mike...I’m sorry...” My throat had closed up and burned with the essence of my shame and regret.  Something not even the best whiskey in Ireland could cauterize. 

My turn to hide.

“Hey, Lise...what’s wrong? Are you crying...Lisa Marie....”

His voice was the explosion that broke the damn.  Tears broke free, and some trapped, ancient sob ripped to the surface. 

Michael reached out, and attempted to tip my face up.

“Lise..don’t do that. I’m sorry. I was too hard on you. This must be tough. I know it’s Christmas and you miss your kids. And that husband of yours. And the last thing you probably want to do is sit here...with me...”

Oh God! He could he be so right and so wrong at the same time.  It was a blessing my crying spell kept me from talking.

From telling him that he was all I have ever wanted. All I still wanted.  Which was just as well. As the very thought stunned me.

“Lisa- please, please don’t cry...” Turning towards me I silently screamed for him to hold me.  Even as I knew he should stay far, far away.

“I...I don’t....it’s just...you...we....this”  I had no idea what I was saying, and my helpless gesturing probably didn’t grant illumination, either. 

Michael pulled me close.  His eyes said so much- all in an ancient language I thought I had forgotten, but my heart still seemed to read perfectly. His hands felt hot. Ice melted.  Steam obscured my vision. 

Suddenly, his hands cradled my face.  Too close. Not close enough.  

When the kiss came, it felt as nothing more than a gesture of comfort.  The way you kiss a child’s cheek.  Only then his lips traced the riverbanks of my tears.  And found my quivering lips.  The lightest touch. Wings of a butterfly. Setting off riptides and earthquakes.  Scattering pixie dust lifting me into the clouds.

Small, tentative explorations.  Wound balm turned to oil poured into the fire. My face still between his hands.  My eyes had closed- and now opened.  As did his.  He backed off and time stilled as we stared at each other.  With wonder, hesitation, passion...

A secret force of nature kept us at bay for a moment frozen in time. Until someone obviously entertained by holding the strings of the two puppets, cut the solid beam holding us apart.  Michael’s hand wandered to the back of my nape, and he pulled me into him in a sudden motion.  Our lips clashed, and the pressure almost knocked my teeth lose.  To avoid that, my mouth opened- accepting his sigh and his kiss.  His tongue entered and was welcomed.  A door had been opened and the backdraft raced through every cell of my body.  His sobs and sighs were familiar and tantalizing- my own sounds were almost startling to my ears.

“Michael...” his name a prayer whispered in interchange with mine on his lips.

I noticed one of my hands was fisted in his shirt, pulling him close, the other was tangled in his hair.  I had never thought I’d feel this way again. Feel his lips, his hair, be consumed by him like this.  I wanted to laugh.  I needed to cry.  Michael broke from my lips, as I sucked in gulps of air. 

“Lisa, oh, God...Lise...” 

Oh, yeah, I knew how he felt.  The reflection of my eyes in his told me we experienced the similar confusion and thrill- were trapped on the identical ride. With safety holds cut lose.

He kissed a scorching trail down my neck, his teeth and tongue painting me with the hieroglyphs of his passion. My vision blurred again- suddenly I was oblivious to this place. To everything but his touch, his kisses, his voice, his taste.  My personal retreat to a caste in the clouds only he knew the way to.

It was too much and not nearly enough.  His hands had travelled under my shirt, the palms gliding up the shivering skin of my back. Every muscle welcomed his touch and softened.  I felt the goosebumps and almost imagined my skin glowing under his caresses. Running his hands up to my shoulders lifted my shirt slightly and Michael backed away, panting.  His hands descended slowly and then came around the side of my rib cage.  Staring at his face, I held my breath. Resting his palms on my sides, his eyes bearing into mine, he rotated them toward my aching breasts.  Ever so gently he came to cradle them, as his thumbs reached up and found my nipples.  I sucked in a quick breath of air, thinking I would die from the light touch.  Pleasure amplified and his touch on me increased. As his hands moved, so did my shirt- fabric and air providing extra stimulation. 

Leaning into him further, I grabbed his head and kissed him wildly.  His moans feeding my starvation as his tongue caressed me in a way duplicated by his fingers on my nipples.  Michael lifted me over to him, and I came to sit astride his legs, my shirt suddenly being flung from my body.  Too side tracked by feeling the hard ridge of his cock beneath me, I neither noticed nor cared about the loss.  Briefly I wondered if he’d still think me beautiful, then I realized that, in his arms, I never needed to carry that worry.

Needing air, but not wanting to surrender his taste, I kissed a trail down his perfect face to his neck.  His eyes were closed and his head fell back.  The skilled hands still very much active, kneading my tits with the pressure he knew I craved, while rolling and pinching the constricted tips.

I moaned into his ear, before feasting on his earlobe, then kissing down his neck. Michael lifted his hips and ground them into me.  My pussy had been moist for a while today, but now every movement made me increasingly aware of my  soaked panties.  

“Lisa...baby...oh shit...you feel so right...” My tongue devoured him before I once again kissed down his neck.  Feeling way too many needless textiles between us, my shaking hands lifted his shirt, and I quickly pulled it off him.  His eyes flew open and before I could, as planned, kiss my way down his torso and to his tight, hard nipples, he sat up straight, his hot mouth pulling one of my straining puckered tips into his mouth.

I screamed out and held his mouth to me, welcoming the heat and the sucking.  He backed away, inspecting the wet tip, before lapping at it some more. Looking up with a devilish grin, he then returned to sucking on the bundle of nerves, before doing what my mind screamed out at him to do.  He bit down gently.  

My head fell back and my whimpers filled the room. My clit pulsed with need between my legs.  

“Oh, yeah, baby, you still like that, do y’a?”  

Switching to the other breast, one hand sweetly caressed the relinquished side, while the other, previously resting on my waist, travelled south and into my- well, his, really- pjs. Lifting me slightly, I felt his palm under my ass, holding and massaging it as if it belonged there. Another gush of fluid answered his bold advance.  

I felt his cock jump beneath my swollen pussy.  

“Michael...oh shit...you’re so hard....you feel...”

Huge..hard... I could almost feel him inside me already.  My body playing back a reel of memories that I knew would not hold a candle to the real thing. 

“Shhht....” He returned to kissing and nipping, and my eyes closed, even as I bent forward, kissing and biting his neck and down to his collar bone.  My own hands traveled the once well explored planes of his torso, his chest, his muscled back.  As always he was lean- his dancer’s body still well toned.  I felt him reacting to my caresses, saw his muscles  quiver, his nipples tightening more, chased goosebumps across his flesh with my tongue. Not enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.  I was dancing in the middle of the volcano, but I needed to feel the lava run through me.

I lifted up ever so slightly which gave him improved access to my ass.  God, his fingers were on me, only inches away from my dripping center.  I could feel my muscles constricting, wanting, no needing to be touched.  My arousal was almost painful at this point.  The total void of rational thoughts should have been frightening, but I was soaring too high above any concern for what existed outside this small island in time. I was nothing but a reflection of his kisses, his caresses, the painful need to obliterate everything that was me and once again transform into everything that was Michael. 

His mouth had briefly returned to mine.  Stealing my breath. Resuscitating that greedy beast only he was able to bring to life. My hands came between us and I found his rock hard erection through his pajama pants.  Michael froze and broke the kiss.  

God- I had dreamed of holding him so many times.  Had held him uncounted times. I knew this man intimately.  Every touch, taste, and feeling etched into my DNA forever. And still. The reality of him took my breath away.  His eyes were glazed over and his translucent skin was flushed.  I had done a nice number on that heavenly mouth which was now nice and swollen.  I noticed marks on him where my lips and teeth had worshiped.  

He strained against me, his eyes closing.  I saw him swallowing hard as my hand held him firmly.

“Lisa....” His tongue darted out to lick his lip.  His hand came to slide south into my pants as well, caressing my hips, then going back to cradling my ass. My eyes closed in a lazy way. 

Touch me. Come on... You know where I need you.  

I felt him tracing the edge of my underwear.  

“No thong?”

My eyes opened to find him smiling at me in that sexy way shooting small sparks though from my belly to my core.

I smiled and moved my hand, causing him to blink.  Hypnotized by pleasure, I watched my small hands glide up his abs to his chest. My thumbs strummed his delicious caramel colored nipples and my mouth watered.  Leaning forward, my tongue tasted first one, then the other treat.  His skin tightened and I enjoyed the moan.  

“Lise.....Lisa....you....oh...” 

I lapped like a cat before returning the favor from earlier and biting him gently.

“Ouch!” 

I smiled against his hot skin, undeterred.  In response, his fingers now pushed the silken barrier he had encountered to the side.

“Shit...girl...you’re soaked...” A finger traced from my backside to the front, and he found the gushing evidence of my intense arousal.  His touch was light- only one finger tracing the swollen flesh, staying to the outside.

“Hmmm....Michael....” I sucked on his nipple harder, while my hands ran down the side of his body, feeling him shiver. 

“Still soft and smooth.  Just like I remember....just like I dream about...”

Something twisted- something stirred- something beyond the lust I was cocooned in.  He dreamed about me?  

THe long, skilled fingers distracted me from further thoughts.  As mine encountered the barrier of the elastic on his pjs, his now spread me, opened up my flower.

Once again, we stared at each other.  I could see every emotion, every flicker of arousal in his dark pools.  I also saw wonder, and some uncertainty.  His action were sure and steadfast.  Both index fingers now traced the slick, swelling pedals of my sex. In retaliation, my trembling fingers breached the barrier of his pants and found the elastic of what i could tell from the fabric were boxers.  

Both our breathing hitched.  His pupils seemed to dilate and pull me deeper.  The touch of his fingers now traced back and forth, the contact facilitated by my dripping honey.  It glided across the now enlarged nub of my clit and I just about hit the ceiling.

“Shit! Oh God...”  There was no way I would last- I’d come in no time short if we kept this up. And I prayed to God we’d keep this up.  

My hand encountered his thick curls and then immediately found the hot steel sheathed in the softest velvet.  So familiar. So new.  Muscle memory kicked in and my hand seemed almost glad to be able to close around his girth.  Oh yeah- I had not imagined that recollection that my hand barely fit around.  

A sob escaped him, and he mouthed my name once more.  At the same time, his fingers found my opening, teased the rim, holding me spread open, before he ever so gently inserted a finger and my muscles clenched tightly.

“Michael...Mike...oh yeah...”

“Shit, Lisa...you feel so.... Hot, tight...baby...I gotcha. I know what you need.”

Oh shit, did he ever! While we acted like two horny teens, we had been at this for years and we knew exactly what the other craved. 

Michael moved his finger inside my tunnel and I whimpered even as I gyrated against his hand. His free hand shifted and found my clit before a second finger entered, causing me to gasp at the contact.  

At the same time, I moved his silken skin up and down his shaft.  He was so huge...so hard....so amazing.  His fingers robbed my breath and I started to have trouble focusing.  It had been too long.  Too many years of dreaming forbidden, impossible dreams.  Too many nights of being tortured by waking up either alone, or - much worse- with the wrong person next to me. 

This was too much. And simply not enough...

“Lisa...I want you...I want you something bad....girl...”

I was so close. So close to tumbling into the light.

He moved against my touch.  Straining into my hand. I felt the tip of his penis was now exposed, pre-cum escaping.  My mouth watered.  I wanted to see him, taste him.  THat’s how it was with us- one contact was never enough.  

“Lisa....what are we doing...Shit...this feels so right...Baby...”

Well, I think what we were doing was some heavy ass petting.  And hopefully this was foreplay.  We’d come this far, surely there was no point to back off now.  

I was lost, and I didn’t give a flying fuck about anything or anyone but Michael. When the main actors were on stage, all other supporting cast was inconsequential. With all the shit we had been through, we had earned this moment.  I was reckless around him- always had been.  He was mine, and I was his.  That’s all that mattered. The ultimate truth. 

Proving my point, I  claimed his lips again, and his tongue fucked my mouth with the same rhythm his fingers pumped my clenching, weeping pussy. I was so close....  I felt like a laughing child, chasing the rainbow.  The wildfire rages and drove me toward some barrier. I knew I’d be trapped.  And I knew I didn’t give a flying fuck. 

“Make love to me...Michael...please...fuck me....”

I pushed his pants down his hips and was about to do the same to mine, when something in his eyes startled me.  His hands stilled and he withdrew his fingers.

“Lisa...shit...no...wait....this...we can’t do this...”

And just like that, a needle had penetrated the shiny surface of my balloon, and in a death spiral, I crashed back down to earth. 

(to be continued)

©2012 Erika B Michaels. All Rights Reserved. This story is a work of fiction. Any names, places, and other identifying features are used in a fictional manner, for entertainment purposes only, and are in no way representative of actual events. This work may not be reproduced, copied, transmitted, or stored without expressed written permission by Erika B Michaels. All photos and images, mentioned songs or song titles are copyright their creators. ABSOLUTELY no disrespect is intended to any persons portrayed in this work.